Dream SMP Oneshots

Why I Walk Down This Broken Brick Road (Pt.1) 😍 -Alyssa & Ponk

Part One: Alyssa. 
Do you Like The Colour Pink?

AN: Okay for a summary of this story; When Ponk gets scared, he goes to his safe place. Or, what's left of it. This safe place is as old as he is, and clearly just as broken and misshapen as him and everyone else who used to go there. He ran there today, and what used to be a place he considered home, is now a place where he remembers what isn't his home. He wanted to feel safe, but instead, he got to go on a trip down memory lane, to the good times. the safe times. Because this isn't his safe place, but rather somewhere where he can imagine it still is. But first, let's learn how these memories came to be, and the people he met.

Stay hydrated and have a wonderful day my lovely people!!

Ponk's POV

You know, one thing Ponk loved about his new home was the way the sun shone on the grass. Oddly specific, he knows, but he couldn't help it. It lit the grass up to a beautiful, warm green that was bright enough to catch your eye, but not enough to hurt your eyes when you exited your house. In the morning's the grass had a light dew to it, the perfect amount that woke you up when you walked along a field. Which is what he is currently doing, actually. It was about seven thirty in the morning, and he decided it would be a nice day to go to his little secret hideout. Sounds devious, right? He wishes it was- it was just a somewhat run down, tall, colourful building that Ponk had filled to the brim with novels that he liked to re-read, pillows made out of sheep wool, blankets, some paintings along the walls, and a lemonade stand. It was where Ponk ran off to when he didn't feel like being alone. And well, he still was alone there, he supposed. He didn't feel alone though, he felt like the characters from all his books were alive around him, comforting him when he cried, hushing him when he was too loud, reprimanding him for wrong doings. He sometimes pretended to talk to these characters, as if they were real. It was the only thing that made him feel safe. When Ponk ran away from his last village, he was always afraid he would regret it. He sure tries not to, but it isn't easy in the slightest when you left all your friends and family, just to have none here. He had nobody, because in fact he was alone. He just liked to think he wasn't.

He means, nobody likes to be alone. It's probably one of his biggest fears, actually. Not one that had a rhyme or reason, but just because being alone terrified him. The idea of messing up, and having absolutely nobody who would even consider helping? That nobody out there would actually care if you were to die? It scared him half to death. So in some sense, he was living his nightmare. The grass felt nice, though. He was in short's anyway, black cargo shorts with a baggy orange sweater tucked in nicely. He wore white sneakers with short socks in order to feel the grass against his ankles. With every step he felt his white curls bounce a little, he cracked a smile at the feeling. His mask shifted slightly with the action. Ponk admitted he felt a lot more comfortable here compared to his village. He felt less stressed that he would be caught and hurt, he felt more free. He wouldn't say he felt safe though, the only place he felt safe was the lemon knook (as he called it). Speaking of which, he was able to see it peaking through the many woven branches of the forest. It was almost like it was playing a game of hide and seek, Ponk being the seeker, and the building being a less-than experienced hider. Or maybe the building just wanted Ponk to find them. He liked that idea almost as much. Ponk hummed happily as he sped up his pace, singing a tune he couldn't quite place. When he walked into the forest and between the trees, he felt the cool branches scratch along his sides and arms, The wet leaves would catch on his skin and drag along as he walked past. The feeling only made him feel more safe, he felt like he was being swallowed into the lush oak forest. He eventually stopped to observe the tall figure in front of him.

It was much taller than it was wide, and had pale blue shingle siding all along it. It had a few windows, all tall and skinny, with white muntins around them. The roof was one single white point with a thin chimney that never released smoke. All around the house had vines and dirt, Ponk never bothering to really clean it up. He smiled and went up the staircase to the front door, raising his hand to turn the doorknob-