Have you ever been in a place where you think to yourself "I'd rather be any where but here."? I have. In fact I'm there right now, currently visiting the place I loathe the most.
My mind.
Nothing there really makes sense, but I can easily navigate around. It is my own mind after all. Sometimes when I'm here I just float around, looking at past memories, past regrets, near death experiences and other pieces of recorded history of my life.
But today.....I sat at a skinny coffee table on my weekly shrink session with my conscious.
Floating several feet above the checkered board land scape I sat delicately on my velvet cushion, taking gradual sips of my tasteless tea. Several pieces of fine porcelain china floated about aimlessly around the table, awaiting for something to pluck them out of the air and use them. My conscious sat across from me, scribbling down notes as he examined me like an ameba under a microscope. I hated that.
Sometimes hours go by like this. Me just sitting here, and him watching me like he has nothing better to do.
Unfortunately today my conscious was wearing his pin stripped purple suit shirt and jacket with a plum colored tie. Purple, the only color he wore when he meant business. He also wears it because its a particular look I find attractive. His hair was combed back, and his grey fur neatly pressed. He looked at me with his seductive purple eyes, the eyes I go crazy for.
Of course my conscious is supposed to take a form that I would like because it makes it more likely that I would listen to what he has to say. Which is his job, to nag me about what is right, and what is wrong.
"Victoria." He addresses me in such a deep and alluring voice that I have no choice but to be drawn to his gaze and listen.
"Yes bob?" I like to call him bob. It's much better then calling him "my conscious" all the time.
"How was your day?" He asks, giving me a warm smile.
"Oh well....you know. Same old, same old." I noticed that my mug was empty and a pink elephant on a unicycle floating a few feet away was balancing the teapot on its trunk. I wasn't about to go over there and get it and not even question how my mind conjured up such a thing.
"Nothing new at all? No new friends? Nothing at work?" Why does he pelt me with these questions? He knows damn good and well what I do everyday. He's in my head! I'm tired of explaining to him what he already knew.
Bob let out a chuckle and put his clip board down, for once, and put his hooves together on the table. I noticed the silver heart cuff links he was wearing.
"Are you mad at me?"
That caught me a little off guard, but it was a question I was willing to answer.
"No...." I say, turning my head to avoid his hypnotizing gaze. "Just annoyed."
"You're annoyed of me?" He replies , letting out a gasp and giving a mock expression of hurt feeling.
"Yes bob...annoyed. I see you almost every week, and this conversation always ends with you telling me what I should have done, but didn't. It gets a little repetitive after twenty years, don't you think?" This little get together of ours has been going on for a while now. Sometimes we chat, and the scenery changes, but it all boils down to one conclusion.
He leans in closer to me. "Do you know why you come here so often?" He asks with a half lidded smile.
I shudder at his stare. Holy Celestia he was hot, but I must keep cool, he's only a figment of my imagination.
"Because you won't leave me alone. I know it's not because I make bad decisions."
"Why do you think I don't leave you alone?"
"I don't flipping know! You're the one with the answers! Not me!" I despise questions I don't know the answers to. If I didn't have the answers twenty years ago, I certainly won't have them now.
Bob just let out a low chuckle and shrugs "I don't know." He says, his voice deepening to a low growl "Why are you here?"
I only gave him a look of contained rage. If this jacknape didn't know the answers then why is he asking me!?
"You have to remember Victoria that my knowledge is limited to the extent if your own as well as your mental stability. But what I do know is that when you find out why you're here, I'll be shaking you by the shoulders ,screaming into your face the truth as much as you deny it."
The coffee table between us rockets into the air, and in a matter of seconds, bob closes the space between us by gently laying his hooves on my shoulders. Of course I didn't like this, I don't like being touched, especially by stallions, but his eyes. Pools of endless violet void much like my own, I was frozen in place as he looked into my soul.
"What do you desire the most?" He whispers into my ear. I knew exactly what I wanted at that moment.
"I desire that you take your hooves off of me and shut up." I say flatly.
Upon command, an invisible force pushes bob away from me, his delicate lips closed by the shiny teeth of a zipper.
"Remember this bob. This is my mind, and I'm in control. So you better keep yourself in check."
A guttural growl escapes through bob's sealed lips. He takes the end of the zipper with his hoof and opens his mouth. His pearly white teeth replaced by the now sharpening metal teeth of an enter locking zipper.
"That's just it Vicky my girl...." His voice no longer alluring, but menacing. It sounded like two pieces of sheet metal rubbing against each other. " you're not in control. And soon you will lose this place....forever."
Bob's body began to transform. A silver tongue slithered out of his mouth as his suit ripped from his sudden change in size. His body stretched and expanded, growing scales and a rattle on the end of a tail. I was frozen in place, gazing up at the horror of bob's transformation.
A snake, enormous in size, has become what was left of bob. The cushion I sat on began to plummet into my crumbling dreamscape. My world turned dark as everything was washed in a layer of black. The only thing visible was the gargantuan snake as it quickly coiled around me. It squeezed the air out of my lungs. I could hear and feel my ribs cracking under the might of the beast. I coughed up blood on its shiny scales as it constricted tighter,surly crushing my organs. I felt sick and woozy. Is this what it feels like to be being killed?
A burning inferno of flames erupted all around me. The snake's gaze made contact with my own. This pale, lifeless, violet eyes. The eyes of a killer when it catches its prey.
The beast opened it's drooling maw, showing me its fangs, dripping with venom. I coughed again, this time my blood was flowing down my chin as I lost feeling in my hind hooves.
It reared its head back, ready to strike. What ever strength I had left I used to brace my self by squeezing my eyes shut for my swift yet painful death.
" I like what you've done with you're mane. It must have taken you hours to comb it like that."
Is that bob? Do I dare open my eyes? I do , but as we all know, the snake plays tricks and instead of seeing bob, I see the last millisecond of my life as the fangs rip my throat out.
I feel like I'm screaming louder then I've ever screamed before. But what do you expect from waking up from a nightmare like that? I was in cold sweat, breathing hard from all the screaming I just did seconds ago. My neck felt like it was on fire, but as I messaged it with my hooves, there was nothing there, no bite marks.
Calming down a bit now. I'm sure glad that's over, I never really liked bob anyway.
A small whimpering comes from the side of my bed. My faithful dog Sasha sat there trying to see what's the matter. I gave her a pat on the head to assure her everything is fine and that I'm sorry she has to put up with my nightly screaming.
I don't think any pony would want some crazy insomniac alarm clock like me, which is why Sasha is the only one that came to my aid. My body felt so hot, and sticky from the sweat, and ached all over, begging me to go back to sleep, but I refuse.
If had a choice I would never sleep because it seems more like a chore then a luxury. Having to decipher my own mind on a night to night basis....dear goddesses what is wrong with me. I look at the clock on my bed to see its three thirty in the morning. I had a total of three consecutive hours of sleep, a new record.
I probably should get ready for work. At least there I can sleep in a nice little chair, reliving another ponies twisted nightmare.
