Imaginary Friend

Chapters

(Chapter 1) Day 1: "One Short of a Dozen"
(Chapter 2) Day 4: "The Cake is a Lie"
(Chapter 3) Day 5: "Roses are Special"
(Chapter 4) Day 6: "A Bit Jumpy."
(Chapter 5) Day 7: "I.P.U."
(Chapter 6) Day 8: "Connections"
(Chapter 7) Day 11: "Goodbyes"
(Chapter 8) Day 13: "Headaches"
(Chapter 9) Day 14: "Ponies are Heavy"
(Chapter 10) Day 15: "Mission Impossible"
(Chapter 11) Day 16: "Zebra Piles"

(Chapter 1) Day 1: "One Short of a Dozen"

They say writing a journal is a good practice, so here I am.

If you’re reading this, chances are that I’m either dead or I’ve finally snapped. Regardless, as you read the entries of this book, you’ll most likely come to the conclusion that I’m crazy. Know this: I’m far from it. Like the usual drones of society, I too had a job, a home, and people I deemed “friends”. If you had met me in person, you would have considered me what people call normal.

But the definition of normality ranges from person to person. Some people find ingesting worms to be normal, while others find it to be disgusting and vile. The point I’m trying to get at is I’m not normal, and neither are you. The things I see, however... even I know they’re not right.

You see, I can see these sort of ghosts, if you will. No, I’m not going Sixth Sense on you, but it something oddly similar. What I see are ponies. Not your usual miniature horse kind of ponies, but small, marshmallowy cartoon ponies. It sounds messed up and just plain stupid, but I can’t deny what I’ve been witnessing all these years.

The thing about these ponies is that they live among us: playing, laughing, working. You’d think they’re almost human. I watch them every day, walking by without so much as batting an eye my way. They don’t seem to acknowledge me, no matter what I do. It’s safe to assume that they are like their human counterparts: they have no way of seeing or hearing us.

That is, until I met her.

It was just like any other day. I woke up at four in the morning, took a shower, ate some breakfast, and headed down the street to work. Sure enough, the early morning ponies were up and about, roaming the block, performing their daily routines. It was something I was used to and, to be blunt, didn’t care about now. As I opened the store’s front door, I flipped the switch and let the light fill the room. The motes of dust floated in the dim lighting, leaving an empty feeling to the place. With a heavy sigh, I threw on my apron and rubber gloves before starting my work day.

I was the porter of a small, family owned bakery. Every day was the same: clean the shit off the bathroom walls and make sure the store’s dining and display rooms were clean enough to eat off the floors, not that it stopped the usual pigs that rolled by there. After about fifteen minutes or so of dusting and polishing the counters, I walked out front and began sweeping the storefront. Fall was starting to make way for winter and the trees were clearly showing it. The streets were littered with blotches of red, yellow, orange, and brown. It looked pretty and all, but it didn’t stop me from cursing under my breath from the extra work it provided.

For the past few days, I did nothing but sweep leaves from the sidewalk. If you ask me, it’s a useless endeavour: they’re just going to get blown right back by the wind. Alas, my manager thought differently.

“If it rains, those leaves get slippery as all hell. The last thing I need is for someone to twist an ankle on them and have a major lawsuit on my ass!” he would always tell me. To be honest, I think he was just nervous about his financial problems, what with his store not doing so well and his wife coming closer and closer to having her baby.

I really couldn’t complain. Had it not been for that man, I’d still be out on the streets, eating out of garbage cans and fighting with other hobos for a place to sleep. A few years back, I used to scavenge through his trash cans for leftover pastries and goods until he finally caught me. Instead of shooing me off or beating me like a wild animal, he gave me a proposition. He was to give me a job and a place to stay, and I in turn would stop eating out of his trash. Of course, I took the offer, which led me to today.

Anyway, as I swept away the leaves and continue cursing under my breath, I watched as the ponies performed their usual tasks. It’s strange to watch, really: When one of them would lift something, I wasn’t able to see the object, but their facial expressions and body language clearly showed it. It’s kind of like watching a mime, even if mimes really freak me out. As my eyes gazed around the street, I began to drift off, imagining what their world looked like and how easy they had it.

One in particular stood out, however.

Every day, when I opened the store, there was a pink mare that like to roam the area, sniffing at the ground. She was a... unique character, so say the least. Her fluffy, cotton candy-like mane really ravaged my mind: It was messy, but well kept at the same time. The mare was always cheery, much like her equine friends, but that wasn’t what made her stand out. I could swear that every so often, the mare would meet my gaze, almost as if she sees me...

“Hey Vincent.” I nearly jumped out of my skin at the mention of my name. My manager was notorious for popping up when someone was slacking off. I swear it’s some kind of spidey sense or something...

“Morning, Mr. Offa,” I grunted, failing to sound even the slightest bit awake. “How’s everything going?” The short, chubby man removed his hat with a grimace plastered across his face. I felt my heart sink. Whenever Mr. Offa did that, there was something amiss and I was about to get the short end of the stick.

“Eddy called me last night. He quit to move on with his culinary career.” And into the pit of my stomach went my heart. Eddy was the baker at the store. The only baker. Even though Mr. Offa owned the place, he didn’t know the first thing about baking. He knew everything when it came to statistics, like money managing and sales, but the actual baking job itself flew straight over his head.

“It doesn’t help that my wife broke her water last night, either.” He let out another disgruntled sigh before shaking his head. “I’d hate to do this to you, but I need you to take care of the store today.” Shaking my head in bewilderment, I tried my hardest to convince him otherwise.

"Mr. Offa, why not just close the store for the day?" I pleaded. Porting was the only thing I knew how to do. There was no way in hell I could bake. Placing his hat back on his head, he gave me a disheartened sigh.

“I can’t afford to close the store, even for a day. Look,” he assured, placing his hand on my shoulder. “I trust you. The instructions on how to make the morning bread are written on a piece of paper over the counter in the kitchen. God knows it’s the only thing we sell nowadays.”

Before I could even retort, he climbed into his car and drove away. There I stood for what felt like an eternity, staring at the empty spot in the street where his car had been before, trying to piece everything together. Looking at my watch, I checked the time. It was already four-thirty, which gave me an hour and a half before the morning rush came in. I couldn’t just let him down, but I didn’t know the first thing about baking!

“I can help you out!”

Turning around, my eyes met with the pink pony again. Her blue irises shined in the sunlight, looking determined and ready to help a friend in need. I checked all around me: usually the ponies interacted with one another and I got caught between it. It drove me mad at times, thinking that they were actually talking to me. But there wasn’t another pony around for her to talk to, which only meant...

“Are you talking to me?” I asked her, pointing at myself. The pink mare’s eyes widened as the words escaped my lips. Her smile grew larger, making me a tad nervous as well.

“Oh! You see me! Oh my gosh!” She began to jump around me, bouncing like a jumping bean. “You’re the first one to ever respond! I’m so happy!” My heart began to race like wild. I wasn’t going to lie, I was just as excited. After all, the years of seeing these ponies and not being to interact with them was pretty demeaning. But there were more pressing matters at hand.

“Listen, I know this is going to sound rude and abrupt, but you said you could help me out, right?” The equine stopped dead in mid-air, something that to this day I can’t figure out. With a slow descent, her smile grew as she came down to the ground.

“Yep! I know all about baked goods, especially bread. White, rye, wheat, pumpernickel... Hehe! That’s such a funny name! Pumpernickel! Say it with me! Pumpernickel! Pumpernickel!” She started her bouncing again, leaving me hanging there in complete dismay. Figures the one pony I end up being able to communicate has the attention span of a goldfish. After a few more bounces, she stopped again and turned to me with a look of concern.

“How mean of me! I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Pinkie Pie! What’s yours?”

Pinkie Pie? I thought to myself. What a strange name. No matter. I need her help, regardless of how crazy it seems.

“My name is Vincent Panem,” I replied, extending my hand out for a shake. Pinkie looked at it for a moment, trying to comprehend what I was doing. With a steady leg, she raised her hoof up and attempted to shake my hand, “attempt” being the keyword. As soon as her hoof touched my hand, it went right through it.

“It was worth a try...”I muttered under my breath.

Standing back up, I proceeded to enter the bakery with Pinkie not too far behind. It was strange: I’ve seen many ponies walk through walls but watching her do it in front of me sent an eerie chill down my spine. Entering the back room, I checked the spot Mr. Offa said the paper would lie and, sure enough, it was there.

The instructions were rather simple. I was to make ten loaves of white bread and attached was the recipe which was clearly printed from the first site he googled. Looking over the paper, I began grabbing the ingredients from the fridge and pantry.

“Why are your forelegs like that, Vinny?” she asked me as I carried the bag of flour to the prep station. Looking down, I made sure to double check that the bag was in my grasp.

“You can’t see the bag of flour in my hand?” Pinkie shook her head, eyeing me weirdly. More and more questions began to ferment inside my head as I readied to pour the flour into the giant mixer along with the other ingredient necessary to make the dough.

“What kind of flour are you putting in?” Pinkie questioned before I could pour the bag. Looking at the cover, I read it aloud.

“Pastry flour.” Pinkie’s eyes widened to the size of saucer plates.

“Nononono! You never put pastry flour for bread!” she shrieked, trying to swat my hands away from the bag, even though it was proven before that she would not succeed at such a feat. “We need to use all-purpose flour. The bread is supposed to be chewy, not flaky. Besides, we have to mix all the dry ingredients before we put in the flour!”

Wrenching the bag away from the machine, I ventured back into the pantry and looked around. Sure enough, the flour packages looked the same but held different labels. This entire operation would have been ruined if it hadn’t been for that mare.

I don’t want to bore you with the details on how to make bread, (that, and I’m too lazy to write it out) but I have to say, Pinkie Pie certainly knew how to bake, even if she’s a horse. Also, a note to those who read this: don’t call them horses. If Pinkie could actually make contact with me, I would have had my ass h̶a̶n̶d̶e̶d̶ hoofed to me. Apparently it’s a racial slur of some sorts, like calli—I’m not finishing that. I’m not racist.

Once the timer rang, I pulled the bread from the oven and proceeded to cut them into slices before bagging them. The bell on the front door rang as I finished packaging the last loaf, so I grabbed it and headed to the sale’s floor. An elderly man of no less than seventy walked in, showing clear signs of struggle as he held his cane for support.

“Good morning, Mr. Jennings,” I naturally greeted. He wore a weary smile as he grabbed the counter to hold himself up. The old man came in every day, bought a loaf of bread, and wobbled back to his apartment four buildings down the street. He was a good man; he always gave me a tip for “keeping the place spotless”. I honestly think he just wanted to get rid of his money because he had nothing else to do with it, being so old.

“Morning Vinny!” he croaked, bearing a toothless grin. “Where’s Eddy? Is he sick today?” I rubbed my shoulder awkwardly, trying to figure out how to tell this man his favorite baker was gone for good.

“Who’s he?” piped a squeaky voice behind me. I had completely forgot about Pinkie Pie.

“Eddy... is no longer with us,” I said, wearing an uneasy expression as I ignored Pinkie. Mr. Jenning’s eyes widened, completely taken off guard.

“I’m so sorry to hear that! I was certain that I would end up going before he did.” It took a moment to realize what he said, and when I did, I couldn’t help but slap myself for it.

“It’s okay, Vinny! He’s in a better place now!” Pinkie cooed, trying to soothe my pain with a stroke of her hoof across my leg. So badly did I want to swat her away; she wasn’t making the situation any better for me.

“No no, Mr. Jennings, Eddy quit.” He began to chuckle at the misunderstanding before slapping the counter.

“Boy, you had me going there for a moment,” he laughed, trying to regain his composure. “Well, I guess I’ll be off then. I know Offa can’t bake to save his life, so I won’t eat anything he makes.” As he grabbed his cane again, I reached into the bag of bread and pulled out a slice. I couldn’t let one of biggest customers just leave and never come back!

“Actually, I made the bread today.” I saw Pinkie Pie throw me a glare out of the corner of my eye before I could finish my statement. “With some help, of course.” The old man grabbed the slice and bit into it, with what small amount of teeth he had left. For what felt like forever, he stood there, chewing away at it, his indifferent expression changing to a relieved one.

“Wow,” was all he said. I didn’t know what to feel; he was either mocking me because he thought it was going to be horrible, or he was genuinely amazed that it didn’t taste like crap. All I did know was that he handed me a five dollar bill and grabbed the bag before thanking me and making his way for the door.

“Have a good day!” Pinkie squealed, making me jump for the umpteenth time today.

Shaking my head, I made my way back to kitchen, but not before hearing, “I will!” as the door closed. Wrenching my neck back towards the door, I stood there for a moment, watching the old walk down the street and away from the store. So badly did I want to run out after him and ask the question that was irked me.

“Did he just hear me?” Pinkie asked, looking at me with excitement. Before I could even think of an answer, she bolted out of the building and towards the old man as I stood there in awe. For the rest of the day, I performed my usual duties while waiting for either of the two to come back: cleaning, selling, and generally sitting on my ass.

But neither of them showed. As I mark off this day in my journal, I leave one note to remind myself if I ever forget.

I am not alone.

Author's Note

I know I said I'm hiatus, but I had to finish this one up before going on it.

(Chapter 2) Day 4: "The Cake is a Lie"

It's been three days since my last entry and there's a good reason why: nothing interesting happened. Three days, and the most important thing that happened was that I stubbed my toe on the prep table making a loaf of bread.

But that's beside the point.

Today, as I walked like the mindless zombie I am to work, I ran into Pinkie again. She sat in the middle of the road outside the bakery, waiting like an obedient dog for his master. I'd say I was a bit concerned, what with the rain pouring overhead and cold chill in the wind, but I wasn't sure if the same was happening in her world. If it was, I'm pretty sure that poofy mane of hers would have been drenched. As soon as she caught sight of me, she galloped over and attempted to pounce on me with no success. One case of head trauma and a bit of consoling later, I somehow got her to calm down. Or at least, what I think her version of calm was.

Pinkie wasn't like all the other ponies; she was... unusual, to say the least. While other ponies acted what I could only assume was normal, Pinkie was always bursting with energy and couldn't sit for more than thirty seconds. It proved rather difficult when I kept trying to get any bit of information from her.

"What did you find out about Mr. Jennings?" Pinkie's smile widened at the mention of the old man's name.

"Oh! You mean Kibble! He's so funny!"

"Kibble? Like dog food?" I repeated, completely bewildered by the name. "Whatever. So can he hear and see you as well?" Pinkie put a hoof to her chin, deep in thought before cracking another huge smile.

"I have no idea!" Smacking my hand against my forehead, I proceeded to rub my temples to vent out my frustration. This mare was becoming a workout on her own.

"What do you mean, 'I have no idea'?"

Pinkie shrugged, "I kept asking him questions, but he wouldn't answer any of them."

"Then where were you for three days?" It was none of my business to ask, but it was rather difficult to find a ghost amongst ghosts you could talk to. Being alone in a sea of ponies to find one that I could actually communicate with was rather refreshing, so it was only natural I'd be concerned about her.

"Well, I had to go to work at Sugarcube Corner and there was Twilight's party for organizing the library. She wasn't exactly happy about the mess... I had to help Applejack with moving a ton of apples, Celestia wanted to have another tea party, and the giant hydra was running rampant in the swamp again, so I was a bit busy," she said in a quick spurt. Shaking my head, I tried to piece together whatever she said, but it was impossible. Not only did she speak fast, but half the crap she just said made no sense. What the hell was a hydra doing there?

"So you didn't find anything out about Mr. Jennings?"

"Kibble," she growled, giving me a small glare before turning back to her cheery self.

"So you didn't find anything out about Kibble?" Pinkie nodded her head.

"I did find out today is Kibble's birthday! He’s turning eighty!" Before I could even ask the question, she was already answering it. "His son called him on the macaroni shaped thing." I could only assume she meant a phone. "He said he wouldn't be able to see him for his birthday. He sounded really busy, but Kibble was okay with it. Then someone else called and offered him something called 'Viagra'." She giggled to herself for a moment before continuing. "He slammed the macaroni down and screamed, 'Fucking telemarketers!' It must have been somepony pranking him."

I felt a tug at my heart hearing her swear. Something about an innocent pony saying "fuck" just didn't feel right. "Pinkie, that's a bad word. Don't ever say that." Her ears tilted back like a dog who just got caught soaking the carpet.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know telemarketers was a bad word." At this rate, my forehead was going to fracture from slapping it so much. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I readied myself to scold her, but something—or someone—cut me off.

"Morning, Vincent." Turning around, I looked up at none other than Mr. Offa. "Who're you talking to?" Standing up, I looked around the street in panic.

"Uh, no one! I just saw... a cat! Yeah!" Mr. Offa furrowed his brow, but immediately shrugged it off.

"Whatever. How have you been the last three days? Did we sell anything?" he asked, a bit of worry evident in his voice.

"Actually, we sold more than usual." Mr. Offa did a take back before his mouth dropped in surprise. "Two days ago, I had to make six extra loaves of bread to keep up with the customers, and yesterday I sold twenty-two." A smile etched on his face as he laid one of his huge mitts on my shoulder.

"I knew I could count on you, buddy!" With a heavy pat on the back, he nearly smacked me down to the ground. "Not only did you keep me in business, but you actually attracted more customers!" I looked out the corner of my eyes at Pinkie, feeling pretty bad about not giving her the credit she deserved.

The only thing she did was smile at me, bearing her pearly white teeth before whispering, "I only helped. You did all the work," as if Mr. Offa would hear her. Turning back to the chubby man, I nodded in agreement, though I still felt bad. Mr. Offa guided me towards the front door, muttering to himself about how I would save his business bring it into an age of prosperity and about his new baby, Dill. I'd write more about it, but I wasn't really listening at the time. I had only one thing on my mind that moment.

Kibble Jennings.

As six o'clock rolled by, I pulled the twenty-five loaves from the oven and began slicing them as I drowned out Pinkie's voice (which, mind you, is not an easy task). As I finished the last loaf, the front door's bell echoed, cutting Pinkie off. Her ears perked as the sound of wood tapping against tile rang throughout the store. The only thing I saw was a pink blur as she sprinted off into the next room. Bagging one of the loaves, I entered the sale's floor to witness her bouncing around Mr. Jennings.

"Kibble! I missed you!" she exclaimed, not taking a second to relax. Placing the loaf on the counter, I extended my hand out for shake.

"Good morning, Mr. Jennings." Pinkie stopped mid-stride and gave me a look that screamed, Say it! "And happy birthday." The old man extended his hand once he made it to the counter and shook mine with a suspicious look plastered across his face.

"Morning, Vinny. How'd you know my birthday was today?" Sweat beaded on my forehead as I looked to Pinkie for help. She merely shrugged and continued bouncing around the room. Wiping the sweat with my forearm, I chuckled and shrugged as well.

"You told me a while back, remember?" The old man's face scowled as he eyed me skeptically.

"I may be an old man, Vincent, but my memory is still as good as it was sixty years back. I never once told you about my birthday." It felt like I had swallowed a rock; the sweat was beginning to run down my face as I picked at my brain for an excuse. If this man really couldn't see Pinkie, and he found out I could, I'd definitely be put into a psych ward or something.

"That's right! Mr. Offa told me. Sorry, I must have mixed it up," I lied, letting out a nervous chuckle. Kibble raised an eyebrow, still staring me down as if he was digging into my very soul. I rubbed the back of my head and pushed the loaf forward. "Here's your loaf, fresh from the oven."

His expression changed completely as he reached into the bag, grabbing a slice of bread from the bag and sinking his teeth into it. With a crooked smile, he purred like a cat as he chewed on the baked good.

"Eddy may have had the experience, but he certainly couldn't make bread like you can, boy." I felt my cheeks heat up from embarrassment as he chuckled at my uneasy expression. "See, he knew how to make bread. But he was like a robot, making bread for the sake of making bread. You... you make it with care. I can taste the time and love you put into it."

"He learned it from me!" Pinkie blurts, jumping between the two of us. It was the truth; she taught me that not only should I take the time and care to make the bread, but I should also put my sweat into. Figuratively, of course.

"Well, with that, I have to get going now," he said, grabbing his bag and cane. As the old man made his way towards the door, my thoughts were screaming at me.

Ask him! This may be your only chance! I reached my hand out as Pinkie curiously watched.

"Wait, Mr. Jennings!" The old stopped almost instantly, his hand on the door handle. "Would you mind if I passed by later? You know, to give you your birthday gift?" For a moment, he stood there, not saying a word. I was afraid he had stopped breathing or finally croaked where he stood.

"Sure," he whispered before leaving the store. I stayed at the counter for a moment, trying to piece together what had just happened. Then I realized something.

I had to get him a gift now.

Turning to Pinkie, I pointed towards the kitchen, "Mind helping me make a cake?" With a single nod, she followed me into the room as she listed off the things I needed to make the dessert. She stopped for a moment as I dug through the small cabinet under my prep station.

"I thought the flour was in that tree last time," she said, point towards the pantry. From that alone, it was safe to say that she couldn't see my world either. Pulling the box out, I stupidly showed it to her like she would see it. Pinkie stared at my hand in confusion before I read it out loud.

"Cake mix." Her eyes dilated as she bit her lower lip, almost like she got sucker punched in the gut.

"No!" she screamed, making me jump. "Vinny, haven't I taught you anything? That's not the proper way! Kibble will know the difference." She ran up to swat the container from my hand, only to hit nothing but air. Something was wrong though. I felt something when she swung at me: soft, luscious fur. Pinkie stopped her antics and looked at her hoof. It was apparent she felt me too. Running my hand over her foreleg, I felt it again as she winced from my hand.

"That's weird," she mumbled, looking at her foreleg. I had to agree with her. I couldn't feel her entirely, but I could make out her fur. I'm pretty sure she could feel my skin, too.

“Whatcha up to, Vinny?” said a voice behind me. I swear, my manager is a part time ninja. As I turned to the heavy set man, he looked down into my hand and smiled. “Making a cake, huh? Yeah, you’re gonna need practice if you want to be the baker around here.” Two things in one day I didn’t expect to happen now.

“W-wait, you’re making me the baker now?” I stuttered. I wasn’t ready for such a responsibility. With a heavy laugh, Mr. Offa patted me on the back with his huge mitts.

“Of course! You seem to have a natural talent for this!” As much as I wanted to fight against it, I couldn’t. He had helped me in my time of need, so it was time for me to repay the favor. Putting a fake smile on, I nodded and looked at the cake mix in my hand.

“Yep, it’s almost as if another voice in my head walk me through it,” I said with an uneasy tone as I glanced over at Pinkie. She giggled at my uncomfortable expression as I placed the box back inside the cabinet as my manager chuckled at my joke.

“Well, be careful back here. If you need to use ingredients, be sure to conserve them. We’ll need them with the small amount of money we have in this place,” he grumbled before sulking out of the room. I felt bad for him; the man had a lot on his plate, figuratively speaking. I don’t want him reading this and thinking I’m talking about his weight.

Anyway, after quite a bit of flour, Pinkie’s giggles, a snowman made of dough, and two hours of my time, I finished baking the cake and readied the frosting. Grabbing a spatula, I dipped into the frosting and began spreading it on the cake. Pinkie looked at me for a moment, her smile slowly fading away as I worked on my first masterpiece.

“What’s the matter?” I asked her, noticing her sudden change in emotion. “Am I doing something wrong?” Pinkie shook her head, bringing herself back into focus.

“Oh, no! You’re doing fine. I was just thinking about Kibble. He’s just so lonely, all by himself in that apartment.” I remember her eyes looking over the cake, making her smile again. “But once he gets this cake, he’ll be so happy!”

Nodding my head, I found myself etching a smile. It felt good to do something nice for a someone I hardly knew. After about fifteen minutes of decorating and trying to figure out how to properly use an icing bag, I finished my project. Placing it in the box, I looked up at the clock. It was already time for me to close up the shop. Poking my head into the manager’s office, I found Mr. Offa fast asleep at his desk. It was understandable: the poor guy has been worrying about his wife and store nonstop for the past three days. Giving him a nudge, he woke up and look at me wearily.

“What time is it?” he mumbled, checking his watch.

“Closing time,” I grunted, pointing at the door. “You should get home, Mr. Offa. You need sleep.” With a tired nod, he got up and put on his jacket before following me to the front door.

“Hey, Vincent.” I turned to the man with a confused look. “Thanks for helping me out. I’m sorry to drop this all on you so suddenly, but know that I really appreciate your help and dedication.”

“It’s nothing. If anything, I should be thanking you for back then—” He raised his hand to interrupt me. With a tired smile, he shook his head. I knew how he was. He didn’t like bringing up the past, especially when it involved me. Shutting my lips, I opened the door and let him out as I carried the box with me. Mr. Offa headed to his car and started it up, but not before rolling down his window and asking me a question.

“You want a ride home? I could imagine how tired you are after today.” Shaking my head, I pointed over at the building down the street.

“No, thank you. I have to go visit Mr. Jennings and celebrate his birthday.” With a shrug, Mr. Offa rolled up his window and drove away. Looking down at my feet, I met eyes with a grinning Pinkie who looked as if she was about to burst from excitement.

“Oh! We should get some streamers. And balloons. And games. A—”

“Pinkie, Mr. Jennings is an old man. He doesn’t have time for things like that.” Pinkie gave me a shocked look as I made my way for the building. Looking over the mailboxes, I found the apartment number he lived under.

“Jennings, Kibble.” Sure enough, Pinkie was correct on his name. “Apartment six.” As I expected, the apartment was on the ground level. Any landlord that gave a man like Mr. Jennings an apartment on a higher level deserved to be beaten with a tactical badger. After knocking on the hardwood door, I could hear the sound of a wood meeting tile. Pinkie ran off through the door and immediately began yammering on about the surprise I had for him. Slowly, the door swung open, revealing the old man.

“Oh, hello Vinny. What brings you here?”

“Your present, sir,” I said, lifting the cake up for him to view. He adjusted his glasses and smiled before dipping his finger into the frosting and licking it.

“Chocolate. My favorite,” he chuckled before moving aside to let me in. “Please, come in.”

The house smelled... well, like an old person’s home. I don’t know what it is they do to create that smell, but it was rather strange that it didn’t change from home to home. It was a rather nice place; plenty of nice furnishings, pictures of what I could only assume as friends and family, and one thing that stuck out the most: a single rose, framed right over a table.

“Please, sit down,” Mr. Jennings said, breaking my train of thought. Placing the cake down on the coffee table, I glanced around the apartment.

“I’ll go grab some plates and forks.” I ventured into the kitchen and found it rather quickly: the kitchen was rather small. Returning with two plates, two forks, and a knife. Pinkie threw me a glare as I sat down in the seat across from the old man.

“You forgot mine, Vinny!” Giving her a deadpan stare, I handed her mine which her hoof went through. With a cheesy smile, she closed her lips before taking a seat next to Mr. Jennings. I could feel the tension as Kibble grabbed the knife and cut himself a piece of cake. Raising his fork, he places the morsel into his mouth and slowly chews.

“Made from scratch. A little too much sugar, but still good.” Breathing a sigh of relief, I grabbed the knife and started cutting my piece. “I assume the extra sugar was thanks to our friend here?” I nearly dropped the knife. Pinkie gave him the same look as my tongue stumbled over my own words.

“You... her... see?” He merely nodded and took another bite of his cake.

“I see them too.” I didn’t know what to say or do, for that matter. Placing the plate down, I tried to figure it out. This man in front of me has been experiencing the same thing for God knows how long and has somehow kept it quiet this entire time. So many questions began to race in my head.

How long has he seen them for?

Was Pinkie the only one he’s ever interacted with?

Were we the only two who could see these ponies?

Before I could even ask a single question, Mr. Jennings placed his plate down on the table and groaned.

“Ah, been a while since I had something this good. Well, thank you for the cake, but I must be getting to bed soon. Please, come by anytime and visit.” He stood up from his chair and made his way toward the front door to show me out as I sat there baffled.

“Please don’t keep me waiting. I’m an old man, I need my rest,” he insisted, waving his hand towards the door. Standing up from the chair, I walked to door, trying to think of a way to keep him from kicking me out. As I entered the hallway, I turned around, raising my finger to interject him, but was quickly cut off.

“I’ll explain everything in due time. It’ll be too much to take at once if I tell you everything at once.”

And with that, he closed the door and locked it, leaving my brain to buzz like an angry beehive.

Author's Note

Meh 2: Meh Harder.

(Chapter 3) Day 5: "Roses are Special"

I couldn’t sleep last night after writing my journal entry. No matter what I did, I kept thinking about what Mr. Jennings said. It was a relief to know that I wasn’t the only one who had this ‘problem’, but all it really did was raise more questions. I looked at my alarm clock to find it was already eleven at night, which would normally be concerning since I have work in the morning, but thankfully tomorrow was my day off.

Sitting up in my bed, I grabbed my cell phone and looked through my contacts. I didn’t have many people in there since I tended to keep to myself. The only people I had on my phone were coworkers and my best friend Fernando. As I looked through the phone, my fingers seemed to move on their own and open Eddie’s contact. I stared at the phone for a couple of minutes before starting a text message.

Hey, you mind meeting up with me? I need to talk.

After sending the message, I laid my head down, not expecting any sort of reply and hoping to drift into a wonderful slumber. Several moments later, my phone vibrated, its screen light illuminating the room. With a heavy arm, I reached over and grabbed the device to see his name displayed on the screen.

Yea meet me @ the usual place.

I cringed for a moment. Most phones nowadays came with full keyboards, so typing out a message like this was just plain retarded. Excuse my pet peeve; just felt I should put that out there. Anyway, I got up and threw on some casual clothing—a t-shirt and some jeans—and headed out towards ‘the usual place’. It was some shitty bar down the street by the name of Pour House. During the weekends, the place was filled with college kids looking to get drunk, but during weekdays, the place was deserted except for the usual alcoholics, one of them being Eddie.

As I sulked through streets, I watched as a few ponies walked around. Some tired, some drunk, just like their human counterparts who were dragging their feet along the sidewalk. Once I reached the bar, I opened the door and retched from the smell. A cloud of smoke from the cigarettes and cigars rushed into my nostrils and mouth, causing me to almost vomit where I stood. Taking in one last breath of fresh air, I entered the building and looked around.

Older men, around the age of fifty or sixty, sat at the bar, taking sips of beer from their mugs and complaining about how my generation was nothing like theirs. A man in his early forties sat in the corner, slowly picking at his rugged beard. He beckoned me over, a smile creeping onto his face. As I took a seat, he signalled the bartender with a wave of the hand.

“Vinny! How’ve you been? Mr. Offa treating you alright?” Shuffling in my seat, I gave him a deathly glare.

“Well, since you bailed on us, I’ve been the one doing all the work around the place.” Eddie placed a hand on my shoulder with a shit-eating grin stretched across his face.

“I didn’t bail on you guys. I told you everyday, didn’t I? T—”

“—his place isn’t for me, I gotta get out of here. Yeah, I remember,” I groaned. “I just didn’t think you would do it.”

Before I could get any further into it, a familiar face popped up over my shoulder.

“Is he crying again?” Placing my hand over his face, I shoved him back into the table behind me and withheld my chuckle. The scruffy looking guy picked himself up and wiped the dust from his clothing before taking a seat next to me.

“What are you doing here, Fernando?” I said, scooting over to give him more room. Fernando is a… special character. Not Pinkie special, but special nonetheless. If there was anyone who you could rely on in a pickle, it was this disheveled man.

“Eddie told me you needed to talk about something.” His cheery expression quickly dissipated only to be replaced by a glare. “It’d be nice if you came to best friend with your problems instead of this schmuck.”

Eddie grins at Fernando as the bartender places three mugs on the table, filled to the brim with beer. He didn’t hesitate to grab the cup and chug his beer. Fernando glanced at me with a crooked smirk and followed in suit. I’m not a big fan of beer, but it always tastes better with good company. I grabbed my mug and proceeded to down the bitter liquid, trying my best to match their speed. Slamming the cup down on the table, I gasped for air. The two guys rolled their eyes at my pathetic display.

“So, what’s up, Vinny? Talk to me,” Eddie whispered, not wanting the other people in bar to hear me. The last thing we needed was the gossiping old men spreading rumors around town. Taking a deep breath, I leaned forward, placing my arms on the table.

“Mr. Offa made me the baker.” Eddie’s eyes widened in surprise.

“He’s closing the place down. isn’t he? Fuck, I knew the place was going to go in the shitter once I left, but—” Raising my hand up, I interrupted him.

“On the contrary. We’re actually pulling in more business than before.”

I swear, if it were possible, Eddie’s eyes would have popped out of his head.

“Way to go!” Fernando’s smile couldn’t be any wider as he slammed his hand against my back in celebration. “Hey, barkeep! Open a tab and get us some tequila!”

Eddie leaned in towards me, a look of pure malice plastered across his face.

“Whatcha trying to say, Vinny?” he asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“He’s saying you’re a shit baker,” Fernando joked, playfully pushing him back. Eddie chuckled as he patted on my shoulder with a grin.

“I’m just fucking with you, man. That’s good to hear. I never expected you to be a baker.”

“Neither did I,” I muttered under my breath. The credit really belonged to Pinkie, but they couldn’t find out about that. To be honest, I think they’d be more concerned about why I was seeing and hearing technicolor equines over how one taught me to bake bread and cakes. “The thing I wanted to talk to you about is Kibble.”

Eddie happy mood evaporated as the sound of the name.

“You mean the old man? That bastard hasn’t croaked yet?” I tilted my head, taken aback by the statement. This was the first time I ever heard Eddie having any resentment toward Mr. Jennings. As the bartender placed the bottle of tequila and three shot glasses down on the table, I regained my composure.

“No. I never knew you had a beef with the guy.” Eddie grabbed the bottle of mexican poison and began pour it into the shot glasses before passing them out.

“Don’t get me wrong: I don’t hate the guy, but if he were to die tomorrow, I wouldn’t miss him.” Well, there went that plan of finding anything out about Kibble.

With a flick of the wrist, he downed the bitter liquid and grunted, trying to keep it down. As we clinked our glasses in a toast, I stared at the drink. I’m not a big drinker, so that stuff would hit my head pretty hard and fast. But tomorrow was a day off, so I didn’t really care. Lifting my head up, I downed the bitter liquid and resisted the urge to puke.

Now, as I said before, I’m not a big drinker, but I’m pretty sure any person that downs six shots of tequila, three mugs of beer, and a glass of whiskey on the rocks would be pretty fucked up. I don’t remember much about the rest of the night, but I do remember one thing. As I was stumbling out of the bar, trying to find any fixated object to hold me up, I noticed something.

One of the few ponies that were still lurking around the streets caught my eye. I couldn’t make out her coat color or anything, but I did notice her eyes. Those tangelo tinted eyes locked onto me and, for a moment, I felt as if time stopped. We stood there for a couple of minutes before Fernando broke my line of sight, screaming something about his mother’s back pimple. I’ll be honest: I’m glad I don’t remember that.

When I woke up in the morning, I performed my usual morning routine and headed outside to head down to the pharmacy. I have to say, the sun is one of the hungover man’s worst enemy, but nothing will beat the infamous Pinkie Pie. Her voice made nails scratching chalkboards seem like paradise.

“Morning Vinny!” I covered my ears and shook my head.

“Pinkie, please. Keep your voice down. I have a massive headache.”

“Okay!” she exclaimed, her volume level still staying the same. “By the way, Kibble wants to see you as soon as possible.”

My heart sank a bit upon hearing that. The fact that Pinkie was being used as a middleman—middlemare, whatever you want to call it—seemed a bit jarring. But I shrugged it off and made my way to the old man’s apartment anyway. Standing at the door, I gave it a few sharp knocks and waited. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. The sound of his wooden cane hitting the floor made me jump a bit; I had expected the worst with his old age.

“Vinny, please, come in.” The smell that I called “old people home” washed over my nose as I entered the apartment and took a seat. Kibble took some time to return to his seat, what with his difficulty in the walking department. Pinkie Pie bounced on around him on his venture, spitting out words of encouragement along the way.

“Come on Kibble! You’re almost there!” The old man put on a scowl that could scare off any man. Even I debated on dashing out of there.

“Pinkie, I can see how far I am from the freakin’ couch. I don’t need your view on it!” I tried my hardest to suppress a chuckle, but it was rather hard. Mr. Jennings finally reached his destination, but not before taking another five minutes to sit down on the seat. I offered help, but all it did was aggravate him further.

“I can take care of myself! I’ve been doing it for sixty-two years and I can do it for another day!” he barked, swatting my hand away. Backing up, I took a seat and waited for him to finally plop his ass on the seat. He looked at the table and groaned.

“I forgot the tea. I’ll be right bac—”

“I’ll get it,” I interrupted, quickly jumping to my feet. I didn’t feel like sitting there for another hour just to get a cold cup of tea. Grabbing a kettle, I boiled the water and preparing a tray with the essentials. With the tray in hand, I walked back to the living room and placed it on the coffee table before noticing that the old man was out cold. I hesitated for a moment, debating on whether I should wake the man up or not. Pinkie, being a devious, little prankster, grabbed a trumpet from out of nowhere, taking in a long draw of air.

“Pinkie,” I growled through my teeth, “Don’t do that! He might have a heart attack!” Her muzzle stopped short of the mouthpiece before letting all the air out of her lungs. The old man’s eyes shot open as he looked at the current scene before him.

“Ah, the tea’s here,” he whispered, grabbing the kettle and pouring himself a cup. I can’t say I wasn’t a tad worried when he reached for the piping hot kettle, but he proved himself to be capable of pouring himself a cup without killing himself.

“So.. you wanted to see me, Mr. Jennings?” Kibble raised the teacup to his lips and took a sip before giving me a disgruntled look.

“You’re the one who wanted to ask me questions, were you not?” he snapped after drinking a bit of tea. Grabbing my cup, I nervously chuckled and nodded my head. There was something about this old man that made him loveable, but frightening at the same time.

“Well, to be honest, I don’t know where to start.” I rubbed my hand against my chin, deep in thought. “How long have you been able to see them?”

“Thirty years. Thirty long, hard years. I thought it was the old age finally kicking in, but I wasn’t the only one either.” He turned to Pinkie and pointed at her. “And she isn’t the first one to notice me, either.” He pointed up at the large frame with a rose in it. “She was a special one, she was. One of the greatest mares I ever met.”

It felt as if I was possessed as I got up and walked over to the frame. I looked at the flower inside, trying to see what was so great about it. For moment, I sat there trying to get what it meant, but found myself asking anyway.

“What’s so significant about this rose?” The old man chuckled before taking another sip of tea.

“She gave me that rose.” I found myself staring at the plant in awe. This old man had some sort of connection with their world and he clearly knew something I didn’t.

“How?”

“Friendship. Sounded like horse shit to me—no offense to you,” he added, turning to Pinkie, “but the more you bond with these creatures, the more real they become.” That explained why I could almost feel Pinkie yesterday.

“Who was the mare that you ended up befriending to receive this?” Kibble stopped pouring his second cup of tea and stared at me with a look that made a puppy seem evil. He looked down at his drink and sighed.

“Her name was Celestia.”

Author's Note

Did a challenge that required me to pound my head into a keyboard. This was the result.

(Chapter 4) Day 6: "A Bit Jumpy."

There are two things I learned that night. One was that Pinkie is easy to excite. Now, I know that I’ve had that experience before, but not like this. If Pinkie had been an entity of this world, poor Kibble’s room would be trashed. At the mention of this ‘Celestia’, her eyes widened and I’m pretty sure her lungs popped from how much air she took in from that gasp.

Which brings me to the second thing I learned: Kibble does not like noise. Especially high pitched, excited squeals from a certain pink pony. The instant Pinkie went into her frenzy, Kibble’s mood went from slightly grumpy to downright infuriated. I was rushed out of the house as Pinkie continued to wreak havoc in the old man’s apartment. Honestly, I still don’t see why I was the one who needed to be thrown out, but it was probably best to do what the geezer wanted if I wanted to learn more about this… problem.

Everything was normal from that point on: I went to the pharmacy to get something for my hangover and sat at home watching episodes of Breaking Bad that have been on my DVR for the past month. When night time came around, I laid in my bed, looking up at the same ceiling that I saw every night, thinking the same things that I always thought, and finally passed out.

When I woke up in the morning, my headache was gone, the dryness in my mouth was no longer there, and I felt like I did every other morning where I didn’t drink my liver into a coma. The walk to the bakery was like usual: early morning people and ponies were out and about, performing their morning routines, looking completely exhausted. I couldn’t blame them; no one wants to be up early in the morning.

“Morning Vinny!” piped a certain pink abomination as I entered the bakery. She had her signature smile stretched across her face, stretching from ear to ear. Pinkie could be annoying sometimes, but one look at that smile will get one to creep onto your face before you know it.

“Morning,” I grunted, taking off my coat and hat. Pinkie hopped over to me, extending her forelegs for a hug.

“Pinkie, that won’t work. I can’t physically touch you,” I reminded her. Instead of using common sense and agreeing with me, she shot me a dirty glare and pouted, crossing her forelegs like a spoiled child.

“It’s the thought that counts,” she growled, turning her head away in frustration. I couldn’t help but laugh at her expense. Kneeling down to her level, I spread out my arms and wrapped them around her. Her eager smile returned as she followed in suit. My arms went straight through her, sending an eerie chill down my spine. It felt so strange, like ‘jumping into a pool filled with cotton balls’ strange. Pinkie’s smile didn’t fade, but I could tell she was a bit upset that she couldn’t feel the hug. The smile didn’t mean squat when her eyes screamed of desire.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled as the front door’s bell rang, signalling a customer.

“Sorry, we’re not open ye—” I stopped my statement as I met eye to eye with Mr. Offa. He stared at me with a furrowed brow, trying to grasp the scene before him.

“Vinny, what’re you doing?” I looked over to Pinkie, then back to Mr. Offa.

“There was something on the floor,” I said with a nervous laugh. “I was just picking it up.”

“Where is it now?” I’m pretty sure my heart stopped right there. Swallowing hard, I dug into my pockets, looking for anything that could be classified as evidence to show the man. Of course, the only thing in my pocket was my cell phone and wallet and the one time I wanted there to be some lint, there wasn’t. Cursing under my breath, I shrugged and looked down at the floor.

“You got me, Mr. Offa.” The chubby man moved forward and placed one of his heavy hands on my shoulder. His face showed genuine concern as he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Vinny, I know you have a lot on your plate. If something’s wrong don’t be afraid to tell me. I can help you.” Looking up at him, I felt that I needed to tell him everything. About Kibble, about my problem, about Pinkie; if I got it all of my chest, maybe he would understand and I might have a chance of not being sent off to the looney bin. Swallowing hard, I took a deep breath and mentally prepared myself.

“I threw the trash over there.” His head did a take back as I pointed to a small gap between the counter and the wall. He looked back at me, completely bewildered.

“Beg your pardon?”

“I haven’t had the will to clean up lately, being a baker and all, so I’ve been kinda slacking on my porter duties. I just didn’t want to disappoint you.” Mr. Offa shook his head again as if he was trying to reconfigure his brain. Taking his hand off my shoulder, he let out a distraught sigh and rolled his eyes.

“There’s no need to get all high-strung about it Vincent. I don’t want you overworking yourself. How about I put an ad in the paper to get some help around here?” I felt a little bad for lying, but I just couldn’t tell him about it; it would sound crazy. It is crazy.

“Well, I’d say yes, but are we really in the position to hire more people? I mean, money is tight—” Mr. Offa raised his hand and put on a sinister grin. Tension filled the air as his smile began to scare me. Last time he gave me a smile like this, we had the local mafia knocking at his store window with a brick.

“Since I appointed you as the new baker, our numbers have gone up dramatically. We have enough for the rent, even! So as long as you keep baking like you do, we’ll be fine with an extra pair of hands.” Even though I was more than happy to help Mr. Offa out, I didn’t really like his plan. What if something happened to me and I wasn’t able to work for him any more? His business would sink like a rock if he depended on me alone.

But boss man gets what boss man wants. I just nodded my head, grabbed a dustpan and hand broom, and cleaned as much dust as possible from the gap as possible to make my white lie seem like the truth. Mr. Offa didn’t even bother to see if it was there or not; he just went off into his office to do God knows what for the next eight hours.

As I entered the kitchen, the smell of flour and baked goods consumed my nose. My skin tingled as I readied myself to start the bread for the day.

“Ready to start the day, Vinny?” Pinkie asked, her pearly whites shining from under her huge smile. I nodded and threw on my apron.

Dumping a bag of flour into the mixer, I prepared all the ingredients according to how Pinkie taught me. Her method did not disappoint: not only did it produce an edible loaf of bread, but it actually tasted good, too. While I waited for the mixer to do its work, I turned to Pinkie, who sat next to me, humming a cheery tune.

“Hey, Pinks. Mind if I ask you a few questions? I’ve been curious about your world and how it works.” Pinkie cut her song short before cracking a devilish grin.

“Sure, but you have to answer any questions I have about humans.”

“Deal.”

Grabbing a filter and some coffee grounds, I began making a cup of coffee for myself.

“So, what’s with that tattoo on your butt?” I asked. Pinkie turns her head to look at her flank before giggling.

“That’s not a tattoo, silly! That’s my cutie mark!” I gave her a confused stare that she quickly picked up on. “Our cutie mark appears on our flank when we discover our super duper special talent.” I watched as the coffee pot started filling up with the bitter black liquid before moving onto the next question.

“Who’s this Celestia that you got all excited about yesterday?” Pinkie gave me disgusted look, like I met her grandmother behind a 7 Eleven for a favor.

“It’s Princess Celestia. She’s only the ruler of all of Equestria! And she promised to come down to Ponyville in three days to visit you and Kibble.” I couldn’t help myself from chuckling.

“Ponyville? Is that seriously the nam—” My laughter was stopped short as my brain finally processed what she said. The ruler? Coming to visit? “Pinkie, when were you planning to tell me this?! Why didn’t you bother asking me first?” I asked, a little concerned about this sudden event. The mare put a hoof to her chin and looked up to the sky, deep in thought before breaking out a smile.

“I don’t know.” I facepalmed so hard that I was pretty sure I gave myself a brain aneurysm. This pony was going to be the death of me.

“Next time you decide something important like that, can you—I don’t know—maybe consult me next time?” Pinkie nodded her head wildly.

“Okie dokie!” I let out a distraught sigh before opening the fridge to grab some cream for my coffee. As I poured the caffeine-infused drink into my cup, I asked one more question.

“I know nothing about you, Pinkie. What’s your story?” Pinkie’s smile faded as the question escaped my lips. I couldn’t help but feel like I touched a bad nerve, so I raised my hand and shook my head. “Forget it. We’ll talk about it another time.”

Pinkie nodded her head and her signature grin found its way back onto her face. Grabbing the coffee pot and a mug, I poured my breakfast and added the necessary ingredients to make it just right.

“I guess that’ll do for now. You got any questions?” I asked before taking a sip.

“Oh! Yeah, I have one. What does ‘fifteen for a tuggy’ mean?” Coffee erupted from my mouth like an angry volcano. Her question completely threw me off.

“Where did you hear that from?” I stammered, trying not to laugh. The mare pointed towards the street with her hoof.

“Some human girl last night was asking a human boy who was sitting in midair that last night.” I assume by ‘sitting in midair’, she meant someone in their car. “She didn’t wear the normal clothes that most girls do. Her’s were too small on her.” I looked around the room, unable to make eye contact with Pinkie. How was I supposed to explain to her what a prostitute was?

“She was, uh… She wanted a partner for… tug-of-war. For fifteen minutes. That’s it!” I gave her the most forced smile I could muster. Her eyelids lowered and her brow furrowed. It was like she was searching deep into my eyes to ensure I wasn’t lying. I could feel the sweat developing across my forehead and slowly fall down my face. Her glare dug deeper into my soul, almost as if she had some sort of superpower.

“Okay! That makes sense!” Her elated expression appeared instantly as I let out a relieved sigh and wiped the sweat from forehead. “I’ll ask Dashie if she wants a ‘fifteen for a tuggy’ later.” To this day, I hope that this “Dashie” character is as naive as her pink counterpart, because if she’s not, that’ll be one awkward conversation.

I took a few paper towels and cleaned up my little spit take before returning to the mixer. The dough was ready for baking and just in time: there was only an hour left before the morning rush came in. Turning to Pinkie, I pointed at my wrist to signal the time.

“The morning rush is coming in soon.” As I peeked into the oven to check if the bread was its golden brown, one more question crept into my head.

“Hey Pinkie?” The mare looked up from the ground and tilted her head like a engrossed puppy. “Don’t you have work or something to do throughout the day?” Pinkie nodded her head and smiled.

“Yep!” Silence filled the room as I stood there staring at the mare, waiting for her to continue. She didn’t.

“Shouldn’t you go to it?” Pinkie nodded, but didn’t move from her spot. Again, I waited for something to happen, only to be disappointed. With a shrug, I turned back to the oven and peeked again. The bread was ready, so I turned back to grab my necessary tools. Something was different, though. Pinkie was missing.

“Pinkie?” I asked out loud, trying to find the pony. I looked around the kitchen trying to find her with no success.

“Pinkie?”

“Who’s Pinkie?” My heart skipped as I turned to the doorway to find Mr. Offa standing in it. I didn’t know what to do; my hands were shaking, my body refused to move, and my brain just went dead. Mr. Offa raised an eyebrow and made his way towards me. He raised his hand and pressed it against my forehead.

“Vincent, are you alright? You haven’t been your usual self since the day I made you the baker.” My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I couldn’t say—or think of, for that matter—a word to get me out of this predicament.

It was almost like the gods had chose me as their toy that day. The front door’s bell rang, knocking some sense back into me.

“I-I’m fine, Mr. Offa. R-Really, I am. I have to take c-c-care of that customer,” I stuttered, sliding around the hefty man. With two left feet, I stumbled into the storefront and took my position behind the counter. A guy in his early twenties stood there, looking bored out of his mind.

“How can I help you?” I asked, putting on a smile. The guy looked up at me with his glossy, green eyes and pointed at the front window. A sign reading, “HELP WANTED” sat across it. I hadn’t noticed it when I came in that morning, so Mr. Offa must have put it up when I making the bread.

“Mr. Offa!” I screamed, making the guy jump.

“Hey Vinny! I got something to show you!” said a familiar voice, making me jump. Pinkie stood beside me with her mouth slightly open, almost as if something was in her mouth. The guys eyes shot to Pinkie’s position then back to me. It was almost as if...

“Are you here for the porter position?” We both jumped as Mr. Offa came in from behind me and extended his hand to the young man. The guy nodded, not uttering a word and shook his hand. Mr. Offa smiled and guided him to the office. “I have some time, so let’s have a quick interview, yes?” The two made their way into the office, slamming the door behind them.

Turning back to Pinkie, I looked down at the ground where she ‘placed’ something.

“Isn’t it cool?!” she exclaimed. I stood there for a moment, trying to see what she was talking about before remember something.

I couldn’t.

“I don’t know, I can’t see it,” I replied with a monotonous tone. I had more pressing matters on my mind.

Like that guy’s reaction to Pinkie.

Author's Note

This time, the challenge was to type with my feet while blindfolded.

(Chapter 5) Day 7: "I.P.U."

I’ve noticed that a lot happened ever since I met Pinkie. More than usual, at that. On top of Mr. Offa thinking I finally lost it and finding out Kibble has the same “problem” as me, this new guy came back the next day with Mr. Offa’s arm around his shoulder.

“Vinny, I’d like you to meet Marios.” I extended my arm out for a handshake, which he hesitated to grab. After the awkward greeting, Mr. Offa handed him a broom and pointed outside. “How about we start you off with something simple, hm? All you have to do is sweep the leaves off the sidewalk.”

With what I could only interpret as a nod, Marios made his way outside and started doing as he was told. Mr. Offa turned to me with a massive smile stretched across his face. His heavy mitt landed on my shoulder, nearly knocking me down.

“This is great!” he boomed, his voice echoing throughout the store. “Now that we have an extra pair of hands, you’ll be able to focus on baking and customers.” He leaned in close, mere inches from my face. “You can relax now. There’s no need to worry about cleaning up any more, okay?”

Giving him a reluctant nod, he patted my back, knocking the air out of my lungs. I was one for playing rough, but Mr. Offa clearly didn’t know his own strength. He made his way to his office, making sure to close his door loud enough to make me acknowledge it. I let out an exasperated sigh before heading into the kitchen and starting the usual routine. I couldn’t help but look around the room, hoping that Pinkie would show up at any moment. If anything, I could use her company right about now.

As I walked about the kitchen, grabbing supplies and tools, I kept glancing out of the kitchen doorway to check on Marios. His dull expression was almost depressing to look at. How the hell did this guy convince Mr. Offa to give him a job?

“Hiya, Vinny!” squeaked an all-too-familiar voice. I looked around the room, trying to find the pink equine with no success.

“Where are you Pinkie?” I asked, frantically searching, checking inside each cabinet for any sign of her. No matter what I looked through, I couldn’t find her.

“Over here!” she giggled as I follow the sound of her voice. Closer and closer, her laughter grew louder. I was already out of the kitchen at this point and in the hallway headed towards Mr. Offa’s office.

“Pinkie,” I growled, making sure to keep my voice down, “get over here. I’m gonna get in trouble if I go that way.” Pinkie pounced through the wall, aiming straight at me. Naturally, I ducked; instinct made me do it, I swear. With a loud “thump”, I banged my head against the wall and fell on my ass.

“Are you alright?” I heard as I rubbed my head. Behind me, Marios stood at the end of the hallway, broom in hand and eyebrow raised. I stood back up and nervously chuckled.

“I’m fin—”

“Ooh! The quiet guy is back!” Pinkie blurted, cutting me off. I shot her a glare before looking back at Marios, who was inspecting the spot where Pinkie stood. His eyes kept shifting between Pinkie and myself, making me more and more nervous with each glance. Pinkie imitated his action, looking between me and Marios, her smile wide and devious.

“A-All done with the leaves?” I stuttered, trying to break the silence. He continued to stare me down, not uttering a word. All he did was nod slowly before turning back to the storefront, his eyes not breaking from mine until his head had completely turned. Marios disappeared from view as I bolted towards the bathroom. Pinkie followed not far behind, her elated expression now gone.

“Vincent? Is everything alright?” I don’t know why I ran into the bathroom, or why my hands were shaking, but something didn’t feel right. Something about this guy made me nervous, more than anyone I ever met before. It was like he could read my mind, but wouldn’t tell me he could. Turning on the sink, I splashed some cold water onto my face and took a deep breath.

“Vincent…?” I brought myself back to Earth and looked down at Pinkie. Concern was plastered across her face. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” I muttered, drying my face with my apron. “I’m just overthinking the situation, is all.” Pinkie pursed her lips.

“Are you sure?” I nodded. Pinkie wouldn’t understand. She couldn’t. If people were to find out about my little issue, I’d be strapped into a straitjacket, cooped up in a small room covered from corner to corner in soft padding. I could only imagine that the worst she would get is a strange stare from another pony. From the way she describes her world, strange things are always happening.

Exiting the bathroom, I made my way to kitchen and continued making bread, occasionally keeping an eye out for Marios. The entire time I had Pinkie rambling on about something, pounding my eardrums. I wasn’t listening, to be honest: I was more concerned about the guy who could possibly see her. So concerned, I didn’t even notice the bag in my hand was pastry flour before I poured it in.

“Damn it,” I muttered, digging into the mixer with my hands. Scooping the flour out into the empty bag, I cursed relentlessly under my breath. Pinkie continued her onslaught of stories and personal philosophies as the vein in my forehead began to twitch. If I wanted to be quiet, I couldn’t talk to her, especially with Marios roaming around, but so badly did I want to tell her to shut up. No living creature should have had this much interest in the pronunciation of the word “éclair”.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Pinkie exclaimed, just as I finished digging out the flour. “Princess Celestia wants me to take her to visit you and Kibble tomorrow at around sunset.”

“Tomorrow? You told me Celestia was coming by in three days. What’s with the sudden change in plans?”

“Celestia?” I felt an eerie chill run down my spine as the name was parroted back at me. Slowly, I turned my head and locked eyes with Marios, who stood in the doorway. His eyes were wider than your grandmother’s panties and the creepy smile on his face didn’t help calm me down either. “Then it is true. You are the chosen one!”

At this point, I was tempted to just stick my head in the mixer and flip the switch. It was all over. My job, my life: they were all going to be dropped for a straitjacket and a cushioned room. Marios advanced and kneeled down beside me before doing something I didn’t expect.

He bowed down to me.

I stood there, mouth gaping as this man laid his head on the ground, praising me like god. Pinkie turned to me, clearly just as confused as I was. She pointed her hoof at him, asking me what he was doing. I shrugged and shook my head: her guess was a good as mine!

“Vincent Panem!” I began sweating bullets at the mention of my full name. I don’t remember giving it to him. “We have been watching from afar, questioning whether the prophecy was true. And it is! This is a glorious day!” I didn’t know what the hell was going on. All I had was a single question beating my brain into a pulp.

“What?” Marios lifted himself up, leaning in with his lips puckered, aimed for my cheek. I slapped him as soon as I realized what he was trying to do. “At least take me out to dinner first!”

Marios collected himself and cleared his throat before standing back up.

“My apologies. I got excited. Allow me to explain. I am a follower of the Invisible Pink Unicorn.”

“Invisible Pink Unicorn?” I repeated. “Isn’t that like the Flying Spaghetti Monster?”

“Please don’t compare us to those peasants,” he snapped with a scowl. “We are a serious group who have foretold that one day a man would be meeting with the unicorn Celestia who would open the gateway to the promised land of Equestria where we will live in peace for all eternity!”

To have Pinkie give someone the look she gave him, it would be safe to assume that he were crazy. Pinkie turned to me, her eyebrows raised and mouth wide open.

“Celestia isn’t pink, though,” she mumbled, obviously confused. I turned back to Marios, awaiting his response. He stood there, smiling dumbly. I looked between him and the mare before realizing the obvious.

He couldn’t see or hear her.

To confirm my suspicion, I asked, “Did you hear her?” He looked at me in bewilderment before his eyes darted around the room.

“T-The Invisible Pink Unicorn is among us?” he stammered, frantically searching for the non-existent being. He got the invisible and pink part correct, at least.

“No... but one of her fellow ponies are,” I replied. “Now let me ask you a question. What did you mean you’ve been ‘watching me from afar’?” Marios nervously scratched the back of his head, refusing to make eye contact with me.

“That’s not important right now. What matters is that you contact the princess so you can fulfill the prophecy.” Avoiding my question was something that gets on my nerves. This guy was weird, even by my standards. Obviously he knew more than he was telling me.

“If you want me to ‘fulfill the prophecy’, I suggest you tell me what I want to know. How long have you guys been spying on me?” Marios’s eyes shot to the ground as he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Since the incident with your parents. One of the followers was the psychiatrist who talked with you when you first started seeing your visions.” It felt as if my stomach had tied itself into a knot. Pinkie gave me an apprehensive look as sweat began to trickle down my face.

“Vincent? What’s he talking about?” I clenched my fists so hard, I could feel my short fingernails dig into the skin of my palms.

“When I was younger, my parents were killed in a car accident. I walked away with only a few cuts and bruises. I had no other family, so I was left with having to live in an orphanage. It was then I started to see the ponies.” Horrible memories began to fill my head as I relived my past. “When I went for help, they had me talk to a man by the name of Doctor Tiago. He told me my problem wasn’t normal and that I shouldn’t tell anyone about or else they would lock me up forever.”

Pinkie’s ears tilted back as a frown formed on her face. Marios still refused to look from the floor, let alone glance at me. Only now did it make sense to me. I was being used as a tool for some cult my entire life. They preyed on my fear so that I would one day be their puppet. It took every ounce of willpower not to rear my arm back and punch this guy in the face.

“Not only did that doctor break the Hippocratic Oath, but he followed me for my entire life.” Grabbing the bag of flour, I turned around and headed back to the pantry. “I have work to do. Leave me alone.”

For the rest of the morning, no one came to bother me. Not Marios, not even Pinkie. It was probably obvious that I didn’t want anyone talking to me. I felt like a drone, just walking around doing my job. I didn’t feel the enjoyment that I normally felt each day coming into work. Bread was no longer a work of art; it was just bread. It was apparent to the customers that something was wrong as well. When Kibble came by, he took a bite out of a bread loaf and groaned.

“Vinny, what’s wrong?” Mr. Offa asked me around midday. He caught me sulking in the kitchen, zoned out as I stared at the mixer. I didn’t even bother acknowledging him; I wasn’t in the mood. Before long, Mr. Offa shrugged it off and left the kitchen. I sat at the prep station, staring at the abomination of a cake I had just baked. It was lopsided and the frosting wasn’t even close to being evenly spread. Grabbing the dessert, I slammed it in the garbage can, throwing it with all my strength. The cake exploded into bits and pieces, sending frosting everywhere.

I wiped the chucks from my face and strode towards the back door, grabbing my jacket on the way. The cold air whipped across my face as I entered the narrow alleyway, making me shiver. I looked around at the corner where a few trash cans laid, remembering the day Mr. Offa found me. That was possibly the best—and worst—thing to ever happen to me. Tears began to swell in my eyes, remembering the day that man offered me a new life, away from hobo lifestyle.

“Vinny…”

I turned around to see Pinkie standing behind me, her expression uneasy. I could feel my legs begin to wobble and before I knew it, I was on the knees crying my eyes out like a baby. My voice echoed throughout the quiet alley, scaring off any stray animals and people. I couldn’t hold it in any more. Years of stress and anxiety came out all at once. Instinctively, Pinkie stretched out her forelegs to hug me. There was something wrong though.

I could feel it.

Author's Note

My nipples look like Milkduds!

(Chapter 6) Day 8: "Connections"

Never before have I had something like this happen to me. The feeling of fear, excitement, confusion, and bliss hit me all at once felt like an interstate pileup. Pinkie’s face pretty much summed up that she was going through the same thing. For a moment, she hung around my neck, holding a loose grip with her forelegs. Neither of us knew what was going on.

“Pinkie,” I whispered, “can you fe—”

“Yeah,” she interjected, tightening her grip. I raised my arms and slowly wrapped them around the mare, trembling immensely. Pinkie jumped as my hand made contact against her back instead of going through. Her soft fur felt like velvet against my palms as I pulled her closer, tightening my grasp around her. For what felt like an eternity, I sat there, holding her in my arms, before finally letting go.

“Thank you, Pinkie. I really needed that.”

I looked at one of my hands in bewilderment, tracing my fingers over them with the other. It was strange; Pinkie looked soft, but I never would have guessed that she felt this nice. She looked over my hands and placed her hoof in my palm. I could only assume she was seeing if what had just happened was real.

“You’re welcome, Vinny. A hug will bring even the saddest of ponies up from a bad day.” A meek smile crept onto her face as her eyes began to water. “If you ever need another hug, you just let me know.”

I couldn’t help but smile as I nodded.

“Vinny, are you alright?” I turned around to meet with Mr. Offa, his face showing clear signs of concern. His glance at my eyes was a dead giveaway that he could tell I was crying. He lifted one of his huge mitts and placed it on my shoulder. “What’s the matter?”

Letting out a lingering sigh, I shrugged before looking down at the ground. If I broke the news to him, Marios would get involved and he might give me away. Instead, I said the one thing he never expected to hear.

“Mr. Offa, I need some time off work.”

Mr. Offa seemed reluctant to let me go, but after he walked into the kitchen and saw the layers of cake and frosting around the walls of the trash can, he gave in and agreed some time off would be a good idea.

The walk home was a nice change. Normally when I walked home, it was turning night out, so I didn’t get to see the usual hustle and bustle of the streets. I knew what it was like when the humans were out: lots of yelling, loud car horn, the occasional gunshot. But what interested me were the ponies. They were so carefree unlike their human counterparts. I watched one mare as she negotiated the price of her apples for three minutes and then talk about her family for twenty.

As the sun began to come down, I made my way home, cutting through the usual alleys and parking lots. Without a second thought, I left my computer on to boot as I started a cup of tea.

My night was unsettling. No matter what position I assumed, I found myself uncomfortable and unable to sleep. Grabbing my phone, I looked through my contacts and debated on texting Eddie for another night of stress relieving alcohol consumption. My palms grew sweaty as my finger hovered over his name. In the end, I decided against it. Instead, I found myself at the computer, googling my symptoms.

A few disorders popped up: psychotic disorder and schizoaffective disorder were the two that stuck out the most. Before long, I ended up searching direct symptoms.

“seeing talking ponies”

There were some rather… strange results. One man claimed that he could see a “tulpa” of a pony that was constantly trying to rape him. It wasn’t long before I closed that tab after seeing the responses telling him to manifest Jackie Chan to kill off the pony.

I don’t remember how I fell asleep, but I remember where I woke up: in my bathtub covered from neck to toe in toilet paper. This problem had been going on for years now. I’d blank out and wake up in some obscure place every once in a while.

Throwing the toilet paper off myself, I rose from the bathtub and grabbed my head. I didn’t even drink and I had a throbbing headache beating me down. As I dragged my feet across the apartment, I checked the clock sitting on my nightstand. A cold sweat developed as I grabbed the clock, making sure it wasn’t wrong. It was already five o’clock in the afternoon. Swinging the curtains aside, I checked outside to see if the sun was setting. Sure enough, it was.

Digging through my drawers, I grabbed a pair of socks and pants before venturing into my closet for a dress shirt. It was very rare for me to dress nicely, so the only thing I could find was an old blue polo with pink stripes down the middle.

Why in God’s name do I own this shirt? I thought to myself as I slipped it on. The thing was a size too big for me and smelled like a cheap cologne aisle. No matter. It’s better than showing up naked.

As I left my apartment, I felt something heavy climb up my back. Had it not been for the set of familiar giggles behind me, I probably would have flung Pinkie across the street or beaten her senseless. She poked her head over my shoulder, her usual crooked grin displaying proudly. A smirk worked its way onto my face before I could stop it. I swear to this day that Pinkie’s smiles were contagious, no matter how bad of a mood you were in.

“Were you waiting long?” I asked as I started towards Kibble’s apartment. Pinkie shook her head, her bushy mane swatting my face.

“Nope! I just finished my shift at Sugarcube Corner. Princess Celestia passed by earlier and asked me for directions to Kibble’s house, so she’s probably there already.”

My stomach started to flip as I came closer to the building. Pinkie must have some extra sense, because before I knew it, she was patting my back with one of her hooves.

“Don’t worry, Vinny! The princess is really nice. She’ll be more than happy to meet you.” It made me feel a little better knowing that she cared. I opened the door to the apartment building and entered, feeling a huge difference in the air. It grew heavier as I got closer to Kibble’s apartment.

“It’s open,” came Kibble’s voice as I lifted my hand up to knock on the door. I slowly opened the door and peeked inside, noticing the stallion garbed in armor. He turned to me, a spear in his forelegs and eyes watching me as I walked in. It took a moment to realize it, but he wasn’t looking at me, he was looking at Pinkie.

Closing the door behind me, I looked around the room and two things caught my attention. One was Kibble: he was smiling an authentic smile, something I’ve never seen in my time knowing the old man. The second was the rather large mare sitting across from him. She had a very vibrant white coat and a mane like no other. It was like looking into the aurora lights, waving in the non-existent wind. Another thing that I noticed about her was the fact that she had both a horn and pair of wings.

“You must be Vincent,” she said with a calm demeanor in her voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She extended her hoof out for a shake as Pinkie jumped from my shoulder, bowing to the mare. With a shaky hand, I reached out for her hoof, only to grasp the air. The atmosphere grew awkward as stood there, not knowing what to do. I ended up bowing like Pinkie before taking a seat on the couch behind me.

It was rather strange: Celestia was lounging on the loveseat ahead of me, lifting a cup of tea with her magic. Before I could ask how she was able to see the object, let alone touch them, something jabbed my shoulder. Kibble sat to the left of me, stabbing my arm with the end of his cane.

“Stop staring. It’s impolite.” Celestia giggled as the old man’s eyes locked onto mine.

“You haven’t changed at all, Kibble. Now, Vincent, I can only assume that you have many questions to ask. I’m telling you now that I don’t know everything, but I will answer everything I can.”

I didn’t even know where to start. Pinkie sat on the floor to my side, looking up at me with a face that said, “Go ahead”.” Placing my hand on the pink mare’s head, I ruffled her mane a bit and then turned to Celestia.

“I wasn’t able to touch Pinkie up until yesterday. How is that even possible?” Celestia lifted her cup again, taking a long draw of tea.

“Let me answer your question with a question. Would you consider Pinkie your friend?” I gave Pinkie a confused look, wondering where this question was taking me.

“Well… yeah. She’s there for me and vice versa.” A smile stretched across the princess’s lips as she dipped her muzzle into tea cup again. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“There’s a visible bond between you two. Many people and ponies before us believed that friendship was the link between our two worlds. Though we’re different, whether it be by species or language, that doesn’t stop us from establishing this bond.” My mind was boggled by this corny answer. What was this? Some sort of cheesy children cartoon?

“Alright, so you’re saying because I’m good friends with Pinkie, I’m able to ‘connect’ with her?” Celestia nodded. “Okay, then explain this: Why am I able to see ponies at all? Why can’t other humans see them? And why can’t all ponies see us?”

Celestia gave me discomforting look before turning to Kibble. He gave her a nod, almost as if allowing permission to answer the questions.

“Nopony knows,” she said with a shrug. “Only a few are able to do so and still they don’t know why they are able to. There are theories that our worlds are linked and the ones who are able to see the others have the ability to traverse them. We believe you might be one of them.”

I could feel my heart drop like a cinderblock. Was Celestia in on this Invisible Pink Unicorn bullshit?

“Why me? Why not Kibble? He’s able to see the ponies and talk to them.” Kibble jabbed me with his cane again, pressing substantially harder this time. The scowl across his face could melt ice.

“Because even if I could, I’m too old! I can barely walk. You want to send a crippled old man into a new world where there are no elevators or anything?” I would assume any old man would like to spend the rest of his years in a clean, friendly environment, but then again, Kibble wasn’t exactly “any old man”.

“Listen, I know it’s crazy enough that I see talking ponies—no offense—but having me cross into another world? Some guy from a crackpot religion called the Invisible Pink Unicorn just told me the same thing yesterday and, to be honest, I don’t believe a word from either party.” Kibble’s scowl grew fiercer at the mention of the I.P.U.

“That damn kid,” he growled. “I told him to stay out of this.” I sat there for a moment, thinking it were just a mere coincidence, but I had to ask to be sure.

“Are you talking about Marios?” Kibble rolled his eyes.

“Yes. He’s my grandson.”

Small world…

Kibble continued to ramble on about how his grandson was a failure and his every flaw; the usual loving grandfather spout of nonsense. Celestia poured herself another cup of tea before jumping back on track.

“He seems to think that I’m sort of deity,” Celestia comments, shortly followed by a chuckle. “It’s cute.”

Cute in a sick, twisted way if you ask me.

“This is going to sound strange,” I started, “but what does everything look like around you? I can’t see anything from your world except for ponies, so I can only assume you’re experiencing the same thing.” Celestia put a hoof to her chin and looked around the room.

“Well, I am able to see parts of the of this room. I can obviously see this loveseat I’m on, the chairs, the wall, and that beautiful rose that Kibble has kept after all these years.” I withheld my laughter as I watched Kibble turn a beet red. “However, I can still see the other humans around in this area. There’s one above us right now, sitting down in the air. I can only assume he’s in a chair of some sorts.”

Stupidly, I looked up, thinking I would see the guy, only to quickly realize that I can’t see through walls. Kibble looked around the room as well, and pointed at the far corner of the room.

“I’m able to see parts of their world as well. That damn tree has been in my room for years now and every day it’s still an eyesore,” Kibble replied.

“So you’re saying the closer Pinkie and I get, the more we’ll be able to see each other’s world?” I asked, looking down at the pink mare.

“Exactly.” Celestia placed the cup on the coffee table as she stood up from her seat. Her height made Pinkie look like a midget in comparison. “I apologize for the sudden departure, but I must get going. If you have any other questions, I will have to ask you give them to Pinkie. Pinkie,” she said, turning to the small equine, “if he has any questions, write them in a letter and send them to me.”

“Okie dokie!” Pinkie squeaked, giving her a cheerful nod. Celestia moved over to Kibble, nuzzling him on the neck.

“You take care, Kibble. We should see each other more often, like old times.” Kibble smiled before patting Celestia on the back of the neck. It looked like a half-assed hug to me, but I’ll give the old man the benefit of the doubt. The princess pulled away from him and spread her magnificent wings before flying off with the guard not too far behind. Pinkie and I watched as she disappeared into the orange sky from the window in Kibble’s apartment.

“Alright, Vinny. I need my sleep,” grumbled the geezer. “Come by any time before eight o'clock.” I looked down at my watch and, sure enough, it was already eight-fifteen. I got up from my chair, thanked Kibble, and set course for my home. Pinkie followed alongside me, the usual bounce in her step.

“So?” she asked, giving me a sly grin. I looked at her in confusion, as I crossed the street, making sure to watch out for any cars.

“So what?”

“What did you think about the princess?”

“She was alright, I guess,” I replied with a shrug. Pinkie jumped on my back and gave me a pout. I rolled my eyes and let out a defeated sigh. “Okay, she was really nice.”

Pinkie grinned as I walked up to my apartment building, proudly proclaiming, “I told you so!” I stopped in front of the building and looked up at my front windows.

“I’d ask you to come in Pinkie, but I live on the third floor.” My heart ached as a frown formed on her face. She nodded in understanding before climbing over my shoulder and wrapping her hooves around my neck.

“Bye Vinny. I’ll miss you.”

“Pinkie, it’s only until tomorrow,” I said with a chuckle as I returned the hug.

“I know, but that’s reeeeally far away.” Shaking my head, I put her down, gave her a pat on the head, and made my way inside. As I entered my apartment, I could hear my phone going off. I jogged to my bedroom and caught it on the last ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey Vincent. It’s Mr. Offa.” I could feel a jolt in my stomach from the desperate need in his voice.

“What’s up? Is something wrong?” I asked, expecting only the worst.

“Nothing too major. Listen, I know I gave you time off, but can you do me a favor and pass by the bakery tomorrow to give Marios a few tips on making the bread? He’s been making… bricks.” I stopped for a moment and debated on whether I should go in or not. It was supposed to be my time off.

“Yeah, I’ll be there at opening.” I hung up the phone and threw it onto the nightstand before lying down on my bed and passing out.

Author's Note

I just bought FFXIV... I'm sorry about my updates in advance.

(Chapter 7) Day 11: "Goodbyes"

To whomever is reading this journal entry:

Whether you are one of my friends, co-workers, or just some random person who found this journal, I want you to know something very important.

There’s a chance I might die tomorrow.

As I lay here on this hospital bed, I leave you with one last entry in the event that I am no longer amongst the living. I know this is sudden, but trust me on this: it’s even more sudden for me. There’s no way to feel what emotions I am going through right now unless you experience them yourself, so I don’t expect you to understand. Instead, keep this book and spread my story. Maybe, just maybe, you might find someone who has the same problem as me and they can use this book as a reminder. A reminder that lets them know that they aren’t alone.

Four days ago, I woke up to something I wasn’t used to: Pinkie Pie. I sat up in my bed, wiping my eyes to ensure it wasn’t my morning grogginess playing tricks on my brain. Sure enough, Pinkie stood before me, wearing a grin that stretched from ear to ear. There was something else I noticed that caused a bit of shock: the balloons that were allowing Pinkie to float.

“Good morning, Vinny!” she piped, baring her pearly whites.

“Good morning?” I murmured. I’d say I was concerned about why I was able to see the balloons on her back, but what Pinkie said afterwards bothered me further.

“You have such a neat room here!” Pinkie exclaimed, looking around the area. Kicking her legs in a swimming motion, she spun around and eyed everything within the vicinity. It seemed that Celestia was right; the closer we grew, the more we would experience each other’s worlds. Pinkie began spinning and spinning, her face growing a slight green.

“Oh… I don’t feel so good,” she groaned, holding her belly with her forelegs. I reached out and grabbed her by the withers, stopping her in place. There was no chance that I was about to experience whether her puke would go through the floor or not.

“Thanks,” Pinkie muttered, taking a deep breath afterwards. I stood up from my bed and inspected the balloons around Pinkie’s torso. To this day, I don’t know how she tied the knot, but I’m not really one for asking Pinkie how she does a lot of things. Pinkie wrapped her hooves around my neck, holding on to me for support.

“Mind untying these balloons for me?” she asked, giving me a cheesy smirk. I rolled my eyes and reached out to grab the knot, only to have my hand slip through it.

“Uh, that might be a problem,” I said, trying to grab the string again. Pinkie’s eyes widened as soon as she realized the situation. She frantically looked around the room, trying to find anything to assist her in the removal of the accursed trap she tied herself into. Latching her forelegs together, she held her grip around my neck.

“Vinny, I need to get down,” she nagged, gripping tighter. Looking around, I noticed something that wasn’t in my room before.

A giant tree.

Walking over to it, I grabbed Pinkie’s legs and wrapped them around a branch. Nothing came to mind as I looked at the balloons looming over her, practically mocking me. Crossing my arms, I looked around, trying to think of anything to maybe pop the balloons. Then, out of nowhere, a rainbow-colored blur flew right by my face, only to stop by Pinkie. A cyan pegasus with a rainbow mane chuckled as her eyes met with Pinkie.

“Rainbow Dash!” Pinkie exclaimed, her eyes shining with hope. “Thank Celestia you’re here!” The mare continued to laugh as Pinkie held on for dear life.

“What are you doing up here, Pinkie?” Rainbow asked, gnawing on the strings hanging off Pinkie’s back.

“I was giving my friend Vinny a wake up call!” Pinkie squeaked, pointing at me. Rainbow looked around, trying to find this ‘Vinny’ that Pinkie was talking about. She raised an eyebrow, but eventually shrugged it off. I can only assume that the mare thought of this as Pinkie’s usual behavior. As Rainbow continued to cut the balloons off Pinkie’s back, I took the time to get dressed and ready for the day ahead of me.

“Last one,” Rainbow grumbled, snapping the final balloon off. Walking over to Pinkie, I turned around and kneeled down, giving her the chance to jump on my back. I gave her a wink causing a devious smile to creep onto Pinkie’s face.

“Thanks, Dashie!” she exclaimed, jumping off the branch and onto my back. No words could describe that mare’s face as she watched her friend float in midair and slowly descend to the ground. Pinkie and I laughed our asses off when her jaw dropped. Rainbow stayed there for moment before shaking her head and flying off.

The walk to the bakery was like walking through a new world. Trees covered the parts that weren’t already taken by buildings. A sturdy path aligned the road leading to the bakery, small homes covering the empty lots that we passed by. I stared in awe at how clean and pristine the world of Equestria looked compared to the more rugged city I was in. As I continued down the street, I noticed the weird stares I was getting by the passing ponies. It was then I noticed that they were staring at Pinkie, who was still on my shoulders.

“Pinkie, don’t you think you should get down? You’re going to attract attention if you’re suspended in the air.” Pinkie’s eyes widen as if this was news to her. Dropping down from my shoulders, she gave me a cheap smile and walked alongside me. As I approached the bakery, I could see Marios outside, reading a book.

“Yo,” I grunted, giving him a blunt wave. He nodded before opening the door and making his way into the shop. Following not too far behind, I watched as Pinkie eyed every nook and cranny in the room, her neck craning in ways I thought unimaginable.

“Oh! It’s a macaroni thing!” she boomed, pointing at the wall phone. “Do telem—”

Pinkie covered her mouth with a hoof, cutting herself off from saying the ‘bad word’. Rolling my eyes, I walked into the kitchen as Pinkie continued to gaze at the gizmos in the storefront. I was kind of glad that she couldn’t touch anything; God knows what kind of destruction she could have caused in there without me watching over her.

“So, Mr. Offa told me you were having trouble making bread,” I mentioned as Marios put on his apron and hair net. With a slow nod, he entered the pantry and returned with a bag of flour in his arms. As he put it down on the counter to open it, I stopped him.

“That’s the wrong type of flour.” He eyed the side of colorful label, turning back to me.

“Type?” Pointing at the word ‘pastry’, I nodded.

“This is pastry flour, not all-purpose flour. If you put this kind into the mix, it’ll make the bread flaky and nasty.” I looked around to for the other essential dry ingredient. “Where’s the yeast?”

“W-What’s that?” Marios asked with a worried tone.

Why did Mr. Offa put this guy in charge of baking?

After a thorough explanation on how to make bread and four facepalms later, Marios and I had a good amount of dough made, ready to be baked into some decent bread. Kneading the last bit of dough, I pointed up at the tray on the shelve above us. There were thick, metal sheets that could hold up to twelve loaves at a time.

“Start putting the dough in the baking sheets,” I said, focusing on my kneading. “Make sur—”

“Twitch-a-twitch! Twitch-a-twitch!” Pinkie screamed from behind me. I turned around to see her tail vibrating like mad.

“Wh—” was the last thing I could get out before an immense pain surged over the top of my head.

Waking up in a hospital bed was one surprise. Being surrounded by people was another. As I opened my eyes and peered around the room, catching glances from friends and co-workers. Mr. Offa rose from his chair, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Thank the lord!” he proclaimed, lifting his hands into the air. Kibble, Eddie, Fernando, and Marios stood up, quickly surrounding my bed.

“What happened?” I groaned, feeling the bandages on top of my head. Marios guiltily refused to look me in the eye.

“You got knocked the fuck out, dude,” Fernando blurted, glaring at Marios. “This guy dropped six big-ass metal trays on your noggin.” Marios was already low on my list, but this little ‘incident’ put him on his own list.

“Oh, good. You’re finally awake,” said a voice from the doorway. Everyone in the room turned to see the doctor poking his head in, wearing a grimace. “I have to speak to the patient and run some tests, if you all don’t mind.”

It was apparent something was up, what with everyone being hesitant to leave, so I will admit I started to sweat a bit. With heavy feet, everyone slowly left the room and allowed the doctor to close the door behind them. He dragged a chair to my bedside before letting out an anxious sigh.

“My name is Doctor Red Herring. How are you feeling, Vincent?”

“I got a massive headache and feel like I got sucker punched, but other than that, I’m doing alright,” I joked, trying to relieve the tension between us. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.

“Yes, well, that usually comes with a concussion that has you out for a day.” My jaw dropped.

“I was knocked out for a full day?” He nodded, his frown still pursing his lips. Lightly patting the top of my head, I tried to remember anything that happened. It couldn’t be possible that I was out for a whole day…

“Vincent, I have something important to tell you.” I could feel my testicles shrivel up by the tone of his voice. “Since you have Mr. Offa’s as your contact for informed consent, we put you in a CT Scan to ensure that you didn’t have any kind internal bleeding or serious damage from the blow. Luckily, you didn’t have either.”

“Then what’s the problem?” I asked, dreading the answer soon to come. The doctor leaned forward, his face showing deep concern.

“Have you ever experienced any unusual symptoms? Maybe constant headaches, blurred or double vision, memory loss? Hallucinations even?” I slowly nodded, looking down at my hands.

“Well, we ran a few extra tests and found a tumor on the temporal lobe of your brain.” He opened the manilla folder in his hands and pulled out a few scans, pointing at a strange mark on the bottom of what I assumed was my brain. “I know this is sudden, but we’re lucky we found it at the stage it’s in. If we perform surgery immediately, we should be able to perform a craniotomy and remove it completely.”

Could it be that the ponies were…?

My heart rate could put any fifteen year old’s masturbation pace to shame at this point. Sweat began to pour from my brow, my hands shaking like mad.

“I-I never would have guessed.” I wiped the sweat from my face with my hospital gown. The doctor rubbed his chin, eyeing the ceiling while deep in thought.

“The problem isn’t just the tumor, though,” he commented, crossing his legs. “It’s the location. It’s dangerously close to your brainstem. I’m not going to sugarcoat it, but—”

“—there’s a chance I might die,” I finished. The doctor nodded.

“Well, in any case, with your permission, we can start the operation tomorrow.”

“What about the cost? I don’t have the money for something like that.” The doctor shook his head and pointed out the door.

“It’s all taken care of. Mr. Offa and Mr. Jennings are already taking care of the costs. If you want to go with the procedure, I just need you to sign this,” he stated, pulling out a thick packet of papers and a pen. “It just covers the standard legal issues.”

I ended up signing the papers without so much as looking at them. Dr. Herring left the room, allowing everyone back inside. Mr. Offa and Kibble both looked at me with pained expressions.

“You guys knew?” I asked, still looking down at my hands.

“Yes,” Mr. Offa grunted. “It kinda made sense that it’d be something like that, what with you always talking to yourself all the time.”

“Why did you both agree to pay for the operation?” I looked up to see Mr. Offa rubbing his arm and Kibble throwing Marios a glare.

“Well, you can’t afford such a surgery. And the initial incident was on the workplace,” said Mr. Offa.

“And if it weren’t for my idiot grandson,” snarled Kibble, “none us would be here.”

“I understand you guys feel responsible for my head getting bashed in, even though it’s neither of your fault.” I glanced at Marios, who was looking at the floor in shame. “But this tumor isn’t your fault.”

“Then how are you going to pay for it?” Eddie interjected. I stopped for a moment and thought about it. There was no way I’d be able to afford such a thing, even with my insurance.

“Vinny, man, don’t look a gift horse in the nose,” Fernando commented, cracking a retarded grin. Everyone in the room turned to him, giving him a stare that screamed, “You can’t be that stupid.”

“It’s ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’, ya idiot!” Kibble growled, smacking him in the back of the head. Everyone in the room broke out into a simultaneous laughing fit. Once everyone calmed down, Mr. Offa placed his heavy mitt on my shoulder and cracked a smile.

“Vinny, don’t worry. Everything is going to be alright,” he assured. I nodded my head in agreement before turning to Marios.

“Marios, you’re an asshole, but I have to thank you as well.” I wish I could have taken a picture of his face and framed it; it was priceless. “If you hadn’t pummeled me with heavy objects, I wouldn’t have found out about this tumor until it was too late. But I need a favor from you. I have a journal in my room, it’s located in the drawer of my nightstand. Bring it to me, but don’t you dare open it.” I turned to Kibble who was still wearing a scowl. “Can you go with him and make sure he doesn’t?”

“Sure thing,” Kibble agreed as I handed him the key to my apartment. He leaned into my ear, dropping his voice down to a whisper. “You have one more visitor after we leave.”

After I said my final goodbyes and kicked everyone out, I stared at the door, waiting for my last visitor. Pinkie crept into the room, but something was off: her hair was straight and a smile was nowhere to be found on her face.

“Vinny?” she breathed, slowly making her way to my bedside. She leaned her forelegs across my lap and gave me puppydog-like eyes. “Are you okay? I was so scared. You didn’t move, no matter how much I shook you. I thought you… you...”

Tears rolled down her face as she bit her lip, trying her hardest to hold it in. I ran my hand through her hair to calm her down. It didn’t feel the same; her usual puffy mane was almost dead. My lip began to quiver as I looked into her eyes. How was I going to break it to her without crushing her spirit?

“Pinkie,” I uttered, my voice cracking. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but… I’m sick. There’s this little bump on my brain that messes with it. The doctors are going to try and remove it, but there’s a chance that I could die from it.”

“Well, at least your brain didn’t scramble from the from the hit,” she joked, cracking a half-smile. I knew she was trying to make me feel better with petty jokes, but even she knew that a joke wouldn’t help right now.

“Yeah,” I said, giving her a pity chuckle, running my hand through her mane again, “at least my hair didn’t turn to spaghetti like you.” She returned it with a more pathetic laugh.

I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her so bad that the tumor might be the reason I saw her and all these ponies. It was a long shot since Kibble could see them too, but for all I knew, Kibble could have a tumor as well. My eyes began to water up as I wrapped my arms around her neck, embracing her for what might be our one final hug.

“Pinkie. No matter what happens, I want you to know that you are and always will be my best friend.” Pinkie wrapped her hooves around my torso, her grip tightening by the second. Imaginary or not, Pinkie was possibly the best thing to ever happen to me.

And I will never forget her.

Author's Note

I can't into feels. I'm sorry.

(Chapter 8) Day 13: "Headaches"

I’m not what you would call a religious person, but it seems that God granted me another day amongst the living. With that said, I have to say that I’ve endured some serious pain in my times—steel-toe boots to the gonads, broken limbs, the occasional heartbreak—but nothing like this. When I woke up in my hospital bed the next morning, I had a headache so immense that I kind of wished that I had not made it through the surgery. It didn’t help that the doctor was yammering on about how the procedure went.

“We performed a craniotomy and removed a section of your skull to gain access to the brain. The procedure was nothing like I’ve experienced before. When we reached the tum—”

My mind was elsewhere at this point. The only thing I cared about was whether or not my ‘problem’ was fixed. Dr. Herring continued on about the procedure, spitting out jargon that I neither understood nor cared about. As he went into detail about the actual removal of the tumor, I could feel my stomach performing backflips. I’ve read some detailed thriller books and seen my share of horror movies, but nothing compares to hearing about someone cutting out flesh from your own brain.

“Dr. Herring, I’m glad that the operation was a success, but I just have a couple of questions if you don’t mind,” I said, cutting him off mid-sentence. He stopped for a moment, a sign of annoyance evident across his face, before waving his hand as a signal to ask my questions.

“Go right ahead,” he grunted.

“Is the tumor fully removed?” I asked, running my hand across the back of my head. I could feel the bandages covering the affected area and bare skin, making me wince once again at the thought of someone being inside my head.

“Yes,” he answered with a nod. He pulled out a set of scans from the manilla folder under his arm, showing me the area that once had a tumor. Comparing them to the previous scans, I could set the white blotch was missing from the more recent scan. “As I was saying before, we were able to successfully remove the tumor from your temporal lobe without affecting the brainstem.”

“Will there be any side effects? Will I still have the problems I was experiencing before?” I asked, a bit worried. The doctor put his hand to his chin, deep in thought.

“You might occasionally have blurred vision, but that should clear up as the healing process comes to an end.” I didn’t notice any blurriness in my vision, but I guessed I should take his word on it. “As for the previous side-effects, you might get an occasional headache or two, but most of your problems should be non-existent.”

I couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief and sadness at the same time. My ‘problem’ was possibly cured, but at a cost. Pinkie was probably one of the greatest things to happen to me and to have her just disappear at the blink of an eye…

“Well, in short, the operation was successful and you shouldn’t have any problems. We’re going to keep you here for a few days to run some tests. In the event that you do run into a problem, I suggest you call for me immediately,” Dr. Herring said, standing up from his seat. He tucked his folder under his arm before extending his hand out for a shake. Putting on a forced smile, I grabbed the man’s hand before he was on his way.

“Oh, you have a visitor waiting,” he mentioned before exiting the doorway. “Would you like to see him or do you want to him to come back later?”

“No, it’s fine. He can come in,” I said, sitting up in my bed. The doctor nodded before allowing Mr. Offa into the room, his face beaming. Pulling up a chair, Mr. Offa took a seat beside me.

“Everything go well?” he asked, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

“Yeah.” He let out a sigh of relief, patting his trunk-like legs.

“Thank goodness.” The room grew silent, still even as we both sat there, waiting for the other to say something. Mr. Offa was the one to break the silence. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Vinny.”

As I looked up from my own hands to Mr. Offa, I could see that whatever this question was was important. Looking back to at my hands, I nodded my head.

“And that is?”

“What was it that you saw? The hallucinations, that is.” I turned back to him, staring at his now serious face.

“How did you know I had hallucinations?” I asked.

“Well, you were always talking to yourself, for one. Your eyes never stayed in one place, like you were watching something whenever you talked to me, and you ‘noticed’ things that weren’t really there,” he said, quoting “notice” with his sausage-like fingers. For a moment, I thought about it. He didn’t think I was crazy, he just thought I was sick. And, to be honest, I didn’t like lying to him any more.

“I saw something that can’t really be explained. What I saw were… ponies.” Mr. Offa furrowed his brow at my response. I continued. “It sounds completely insane. I could see and hear these cartoon creatures, but they couldn’t see or hear me. It was like living in a separate world inside our own.” Mr. Offa leaned back in his chair, looking up to the ceiling in dismay.

“That’s… something,” he muttered, scratching his chin. “What kept you from telling me about it, though? I would have found you some help earlier instead of having to wait until the last minute.”

“Because talking to imaginary ponies would get me into a looney bin,” I bluntly said, giving him a deadpan stare. He nodded his head in agreement and shrugged it off, patting me on the shoulder with his huge mitts.

“All that matters is that you’re okay now. Once you’re feeling up to par, you can come back to work. God knows we need you more than ever.” With a heavy sigh, he looked around the room as he stood up. “Well, I’m going to head back to the bakery and try to get things rolling for tomorrow. Get well soon,” he said as he walked out the room.

After Mr. Offa left, the hospital room grew rather quiet. I looked around only to realize something that I should have noticed before: there was nothing to do. There was television in the room, but after beating against the power button for five minutes, I realized it didn’t work. The only thing that was remotely entertaining in the room was a random ball I found in the drawer of the nightstand beside me. I found myself playing wall ball by myself like a socially awkward grade school student until a nurse came by and told me to knock it off.

Grabbing my journal, I began doodling around the margins of each page. It took me a while to realize it, but before I knew it, I was drawing cake on the back page, accompanied by a human and pony stick figure. My heart grew heavy as I remembered the first time Pinkie and I baked a cake together. Closing the notebook, I looked up at the ceiling in disarray. You never really appreciate something until it’s gone. And to think, all this time I was calling my hallucinations a “problem”...

“Hey, Vinny. You mind if I come in?” I could feel the blood rush to my head out of sheer anger by the familiarity in that voice. Looking towards the doorway, my eyes met with none other than Marios. He wore an obviously fake smile as his head barely poked into the room. Nodding my head, I let him in where he took a seat on the chair next to my bed. “How you holding up?”

“Fine,” I grunted, not really wanting to talk to him. He turned his head away like a frightened child, waiting for his quiet father to scold him. Silence rang in the room as we sat there, waiting for the other to respond.

“That’s… good, I guess.” The room grew quiet yet again.

“Yeah.”

“Listen, I’m sorry for what I did, Vinny. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I didn’t mean for it to happ—” He stopped as I waved my hand, trying to silence him.

“Don’t worry about it. Had you not fucked up, I probably wouldn’t have found the tumor in time and would have died a horrible, slow death.” Though it was true, that didn’t make up for the fact that I hated his guts. Call me prejudiced, but a lot of this crap that happened in my lifetime wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for that IPU group of his.

Marios shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, still not making eye contact with me. Something was on his mind and it was apparent he didn’t want to say whatever it was.

“So, Vinny. Can you still, uh, you know… see and hear them?” I looked around the room once more as if something would change at any moment. It was still the same: no ponies, no trees; nothing.

“No.” Marios’s face changed from worry to downright disappointed in a flash. A weary smile crept onto his face, but it seemed genuine compared to his previous one.

With a single nod, he stood from his seat and murmured a meek, “Okay, goodbye,” before leaving the room. I couldn’t help but feel like I might have destroyed the guy’s hopes, dreams, and possible beliefs, but something inside me told me it was for the better.

Around midday, I found myself walking aimlessly around the hospital, peeking into rooms out of curiosity. I just couldn’t be cooped up in that room for too long or else I’d go clinically insane. There’s always something about hospitals that send an eerie chill down my spine. Something about them—aside from the occasional scream for help—just irked me.

As I walked down the hallways, I found myself peeking outside out of windows, looking around for anything pony related. This hospital was on the outskirts of my city, so I had no idea where in Ponyville I was, if it did indeed exist. Scanning the land outside, I saw no signs of pony life. It was a strange feeling. I was relieved that I could no longer see them, but something inside me made me miss them.

Pressing my hand against the glass, I felt the cold seeping through and onto my fingertips. I wanted out of this place so badly, just to be entirely sure that I couldn’t see my best friend any more. Sure, I told her my goodbyes, but that didn’t make this heartache any better. I found myself staring out the window, watching the sun slowly lower over the city buildings.

“Mr. Panem?” I shook my head, breaking from my daze. One of the nurses stood beside me, holding a clipboard in her hands. “You have a visitor waiting in your room. Also, I need to run a few tests once they leave.”

Walking back to my room, I continued to look at all the other patients as I passed their rooms. Some didn’t even look like they belonged here, but the same could have been said for me if I had walked in here four days ago. The nurse would constantly check her clipboard, taking occasional glances at me out of the corner of her eye.

“What kind of tests do you need to perform?” I asked, trying to break the awkward silence between us. She looked over her clipboard once more, putting a pen to her lips.

“Standard checkup. Blood pressure, lung functionality, hernia check; the usual stuff.” I couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Not even a first date and you’re already looking to get my pants down? How lewd.” She shot me a glare so hot, I swear I could feel the heat. It was either that, or the fact that all the blood raced to my face in embarrassment after realizing what I just said. She put her nose in the air, a pout across her face.

“They don’t even do perform the test in that manner any more,” she barked, her cheeks bearing a light shade of red. I shook my head, withholding a chuckle. The nurse increase her pace, before taking a sharp turn into my room. As I enter the room, I met face to face with Fernando.

“Yo, dude, how’re you doing?” he asked, extending his fist out for a bump. I returned the gesture and sat on the edge of my bed.

“I’m alright. Living another day.” He gave me a nod, a cheesy smile plastered across his face. Something was up; Fernando only gave me that smile when he was up to no good. He leaned in close, opening his jacket just enough so that the nurse couldn’t see. Inside his jacket was an unopened bottle of whiskey, barely concealed by a brown paperbag. I found myself resisting the urge to smack his upside the head, but I didn’t want to get the idiot in trouble.

“No,” I whispered, giving him a deathly glare.

Fernando rolled his eyes, muttering what sounded like, “Square,” before zipping his jacket back up. “Alright, man, just came by to see how you were doing. I gotta get going. I’ll catch you later.” I nodded my head, knowing his true intentions. He just wanted to get drunk with me as a ‘celebration’. The man was willing to get drunk over anything: bar mitzvahs, winning a scratch-off lottery ticket; hell, I think he’d get drink just to celebrate not dying in his sleep.

The nurse performed her usual procedures and, to be honest, I was a little disappointed she didn’t touch my balls and make me cough. It had been forever since I had any action and I was starting to get desperate. As the sun went down and the moon came up, I tucked myself into my bed and looked into my journal once more, staring at the doodle of Pinkie and me. My eyelids began to droop as exhaustion finally caught with me.

“I wonder what Pinkie would be up to right about now?” I asked myself, closing my eyes.

“I could find out for you if you’d like.” My eyes shot open as I met with those tangelo-colored eyes from so many nights before met mine once more. A minty green pony approached me before extending her hoof out for a shake. “Lyra Heartstrings, at your service!”

Author's Note

Okay, break's over.

Also, EqD denied my submission. Kind of glad they did.

(Chapter 9) Day 14: "Ponies are Heavy"

How does that expression go? Out of the frying pan, into the fire? Well, in my case, it seems more like out of fire and into the compost pile. Just when you think you’re out of the woods, you find yourself going in circles. Lyra’s ‘visit’ was a bit of a surprise to me, but I half expected it. It’d be too convenient for life to hand me a break.

As I stared into those all-familiar eyes, I threw my head back onto my pillow and took a deep breath, hoping this was just a dream or just a side-effect from my surgery. I even had the balls to peek and make sure the pony wasn’t there anymore, which scared the hell out of me since she wasn’t. Sitting up in my bed, I scanned the room before the mare bounced up from the end of my bed.

“I’m still here!” she blurted, a devilish grin plastered across her face as I withheld the urge to scream. “Didn’t think we’d leave that easily, now did you?” Looking down at my fingers, I tried the old trick to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I had a long day, so maybe this was just a bad nightmare. Unfortunately, I had five on each hand.

“Looks like I’m not out of the game just yet,” I muttered under my breath. There was no way she was close to me, so she was probably only able to see and hear me. Turning to Lyra, I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and extended my hand out for a shake. This was a long shot; I wasn’t even sure if it was going to work. Lyra reached out with her hoof only to have my hand go through. Sure enough, my assumption was correct.

“So close…” To this day, I still don’t know what she meant by that, nor do I care. At the moment, there was only one thing concerning me.

“What do you mean you can help me? Do you know Pinkie personally?” Lyra’s grin only grew wider.

“I know everything about everypony. It’s one of the advantages that comes with blending in with the background. For example…” Her voice dropped down to a whisper as she leaned in towards me. “...I know all about that night you had with Fernando. You know, the one where you went bottoms up with that bottle of vodka in his backyard?”

I could feel the blood rush to my face. Fernando and I were the only ones there and it was something that I would never want to happen again. Long story short, an entire bottle of Grey Goose leads to skinny dipping, broken lawn chairs, and a pretty gay “bro” moment with a long time buddy.

“Okay, so basically you’re an eavesdropper.” Lyra rolled her eyes at the title.

“I prefer ‘information gatherer’, but you can call it whatever you like.”

“And what can you do for me? Won’t Pinkie just come by eventually to see me?” A sinister smirk curled onto her lip as my question came to a finish. Shaking her head, she chuckled to herself.

“Ah, you’d think that, but you’re wrong. In case you don’t know, we’re not exactly in Ponyville any more. We’re actually pretty deep into Everfree Forest, which isn’t exactly safe for ponies.” Pinkie mentioned the Everfree Forest a few times before. Something about it having a mind of its own or something like that.

“Then why are you here?”

Just when I thought Lyra’s smile couldn’t extend further, she proved me wrong. “I have one of these,” she commented, pointing to her horn. “I can use magic to keep myself safe. Pinkie, on the other hoof, risks putting herself in danger by entering this forest. So, to prevent any possible perils, I can relay any messages and escort her.”

“What’s the catch?” I couldn’t help but feel uneasy by her proposition. It seemed to benefit my side way too much. “You must want something in return. I highly doubt you’d put yourself in harm’s way without a price.”

“Well, I’ve been watching you humans for a while now and have had so many questions that have gone unanswered. Being that you’re the only one who can see and hear me, I figure we can exchange information for information, ya know?” The trade sounded reasonable, but it still seemed rather off. Something about Lyra made me feel suspicious, but I didn’t want Pinkie to get hurt on the account of seeing me.

“Alright, you got a deal.”

“Good.” In an instant, her horn began to glow, lighting the dark room. A flash of bright amber filled the room until… nothing happened. I looked around the room for some sort of change, but not a thing was out of place. Lyra stood in the middle of the room, sitting on her rear and holding her hooves up in the air.

“What are you doing?” She looked around the room, then back to me with an expression that said she questioned my sanity.

“Setting up camp. I just casted a repellant spell to keep out any predators. It should last me until tomorrow morning. Can’t you see my campfire?” I looked around the room once more, expecting something to change. Of course, there was nothing but the hospital room I’ve been in.

“No. Can’t you see the hospital bed or room?” Lyra shook her head before shrugging and continuing to rub her hooves together. It was kind of creepy, but I’ve seen the ponies do weirder things. She turned back to me after watching her for a few minutes and grunted.

“You can go to sleep. I’m just here for observation.” That didn’t really help me, but it wasn’t like much was going to happen, so I laid my head back and stared at the ceiling panels until exhaustion finally caught up to me.

I hate alarm clocks as much as the next person, but they’re better than having something heavy hit your chest to wake you up. As the air was forcefully expelled from my lungs, my eyes jolted open to get nothing but an eyeful of pink. My breathing was completely cut off by the time I figured out what was going on.

“Pinkie… can’t… breathe…” The grip around my torso was released as Pinkie realized what she was doing. Tears leaked from her eyes as she pulled away, her face bearing a smile so wide I thought it would fall off.

“Vinny! Oh, Vinny! I was so sad, so very sad! When you told me about your bump, I ran home and locked myself in my room. I was crying for days! But when Lyra came by and told me you were fine…” She wrapped her forelegs around my torso again before I could catch my breath. “I was so happy! I just had to see you!”

Wrapping my arms around her, I held her in an even tighter hug, taking in the moment. As much as I complained about my “problem”, there was nothing that could even come close to the joy I was experiencing right now. To see Pinkie again, to feel her in my arms; it was euphoric. Once Pinkie felt she had enough—which, mind you, is a very long period of time—she let me go. I looked around the room and saw a huge difference.

Trees with thick black bark filled the room, giving off an ominous air as they loomed over us. A small campsite, tent and fire included, sat in what used to be the corner of the room. Lyra sat at the fire, just watching us with a creepy smile.

“Such a nice reunion,” she muttered before heading into her tent and returning with a notebook and quill. “Once you two are finished getting acquainted, I’ll be waiting on your end of the bargain, Vincent.” Pinkie turned to me with a furrowed brow, clearly confused by her motion. I waved it off and cracked a grin.

“It’s nothing,” I mumbled. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you, Pinkie.” Pinkie’s usual enthusiasm spread throughout her body like a wildfire as she watched a smile creep onto my face. She began to bounce around the bed, giggling like mad.

“What is all this commotion I hear? Is there something wrong, Pinkie my dear?” Pinkie’s hops came to sudden stop as a figure emerged from behind a tree. It was a strange pony wearing a cloak and saddle bags on its sides. Well, not exactly a pony, but actually a zebra. Her eyes didn’t sit still as she approached the two mares.

“Oh, hi, Zecora! I’m, um, well, uh…” Pinkie looked between me and Lyra, not knowing what to say. Sweat began to run from her forehead as she tried to keep a straight face and come up with an excuse.

“We’re camping,” Lyra interjected. Zecora turned to her, surprised to see the minty mare.

“Right! Lyra and I are just out on a camping trip!” Pinkie wrapped her foreleg around Lyra, cracking an “innocent” smirk. The zebra’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as she scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. She held her head up in the air and turned to meet my gaze, almost as if she could see me. I sat there, not knowing what to do.

“Very well, but be wary if that is the case. Something about this part of the forest is out of place.” Zecora reached into her saddlebag and dug out some strange powder. As she headed off into the forest, she made sure to release a thick cloud of the stuff around her.

“She’s… unique,” I said, looking over at Pinkie. Lyra rolled her eyes and threw Pinkie’s foreleg off of her shoulder. Pinkie, being the tenacious mare she is, stood back up and shrugged it off before walking over to my bedside. Her eyes grew wide as I stood up and stretched, trying to kill off the remaining grogginess in my joints.

“I just realized! I didn’t even throw a party to celebrate your surgery’s success!” Remember how I told you there are weirder things I’ve seen Pinkie do than what I stated? Well, this was one of them. From out of nowhere—and I mean nowhere—Pinkie pulled out a cannon and blasted streamers, balloons, and confetti everywhere. Both Lyra and I stared in awe at the spectacle, more concerned about the appearance of the random cannon than the actual event unfolding.

Pinkie began to dance around the room, not noticing that neither Lyra nor I were joining in. It took her a moment to realize it and roll her eyes.

“Fine. Maybe another time.” Plopping her rear on floor, she put on a narked pout as a nurse entered the room.

“Mr. Panem? We have a few tests that we need to run. Would you mind following me?” The nurse from yesterday stuck her head out from inside a tree, making me jump a little. Lyra’s ears perked up at the sight of the nurse like an attentive dog. As I followed the nurse out of the room, Lyra grabbed Pinkie and dragged her along, following not too far behind. I couldn’t help at the Looney Toons-esque behavior the two shared as the nurse guided me into a large room.

“Before we can put you under the MRI, I have to inject a liquid called gadolinium into your arm. Can you please put out your arm?” Man, fuck needles. I don’t care how old you are: needles are terrifying. As the nurse proceed to prep the needle, Lyra kept bugging Pinkie.

“What is she holding?”

“A needle.”

“Like a threading needle?”

“No, a syringe, silly.”

“How am I supposed to know? I can’t see it!”

“Why would anypony inject someone with a thread needle?”

“They aren’t ponies, stupid!”

“You’re stupid!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Would you please stop?” I bellowed. The nurse turned to me with concerned look across her face. Shaking my hands, I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I’m… just afraid of needles.” The nurse scoffed as I held out my arm. In one swift motion, she stuck the needle in and pushed the liquid through. I didn’t feel the prick, but I sure as hell felt the liquid. It was possibly the weirdest feeling you could ever experience.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” she mocked as she pulled the needle out. As she removed her hand, I noticed a Carebear bandage placed over the hole. I looked up and gave the nurse a deadpan stare, clearly not amused. The nurse stuck her tongue out at me before giving me a pair of earplugs and pointing at the MRI scanner.

“I just need you to empty your pockets of anything metallic and lie down on the bed.” After clearing my pockets and lying down on the bed, the nurse pushed me inside the machine and left the room. I noticed a significant amount of weight being applied on my legs and then my stomach as I laid inside the machine.

“Hiya!” Looking down, I stared right into a pair of blue eyes.

“Pinkie! What are you doing in here? Get out!” I growled under my breath. Pinkie tilted her head like a confused dog, wondering why I was upset.

“But Lyra asked me to see what you’re doin—” Her voice was quickly drowned out by the loud whining coming from the scanners inside the machine. Pinkie’s eyes shot open, unable to comprehend what was going on. She began to neigh as she jumped off me and bolted out of the room past a confused Lyra. Pinkie’s mad-dash, on the other hand, made me buckle in pain as her hoof did jab me in the stomach. With an exasperated sigh, Lyra stood up and galloped off to catch the spooked mare.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Panem? Are you in pain?” the MRI tech said as the machine came to halt.

“Yeah, just got a belly ache is all,” I lied, holding my stomach in pain. Fighting the pain back, I laid out straight and returned to my previous position. We resumed the test and finished after what felt like hours before returning back to my room.

The day went on as expected. I was given a pretty shitty meal as Lyra returned with my faithful pink counterpart. Lyra began asking me questions about humans that were rather… strange.

“How much would you say the average human foal weighs upon birth?”

“Are human males able to sheath their genitals?”

“What are the signs of a female human’s estrus cycle?”

Trying not to make the situation any more awkward, I answered the questions as bluntly and accurately as possible. Before I knew it, the sun was already coming down and Pinkie was yawning out of boredom.

“I have to get home, Vinny.” She stretched her forelegs out for a hug as I kneeled down and hugged her. I stayed there for a moment, not letting go. I didn’t want to: if something were to happen to either of us… I didn’t want to think about it. Lyra stood beside us, tapping her hooves impatiently.

“Alright, Vincent, that’s enough now. I need to get Pinkie back before it’s get too dark.” Slowly releasing my grip, I let the mare go and waved goodbye as she made her way towards home with Lyra.

The rest of the night was quiet as I laid in the bed. That was until the zebra returned. As I laid still in my bed, she slowly appeared through the wall near my bed. Her eyes shined slightly in dark, giving off a creepy glow, looking around aimlessly around the room. With tiny steps, she cautiously moved forward, almost as if she could sense me.

“Creature of the shadows, let the ponies be. Break them of this curse and set them free.”

Using her hoof, she scooped up some of the powder from earlier and spread it across my general area. She started muttering strange incantations as she backed away from and disappeared.

I sat there for a moment, trying to comprehend what had just happened, but eventually shrugged it off. It wasn’t long before my eyelids grew heavy and I fell asleep. Tomorrow was just another day.

At least, I hoped.

Author's Note

I made it in time. Fuck, I'm exhausted.

(Chapter 10) Day 15: "Mission Impossible"

Vinny…

The dream was weird. Walking through darkness, I couldn’t tell what was going on…

Vinny…

There was a light far into the darkness. As I drew closer, I could see some new world. It was clean. Luscious green grass, trees brimming with plump fruit, a sky so clear that it made me wonder if clouds even existed…

“Vinny!”

My eyes shot open as the dream came to a screeching halt. Pinkie sat beside my bed, a worried look on her face. As I sat up and looked around, everything seemed normal for the most part. I looked at my cell phone on the nightstand next to my bed. It was nine in the morning.

“Pinkie, it’s too early. I need my rest,” I grumbled, burying my face in the pillow. Pinkie anxiously poked at my side, trying to get my attention.

“Vinny, something’s wrong. Did Zecora pass by here last night?”

“Yeah. She threw some dust at my direction and disappeared into the wall,” I grunted, pointing at the wall by my bed. “Why?”

When I turned my head, I could see Pinkie bouncing uneasily in her spot. “Zecora’s missing. Twilight went to her house to meet her for tea and the place was empty.” Sitting up in my bed, I rubbed my face to rid of the sleepiness it contained.

“She’s probably just out doing errands. I think you’re overreacting.” Pinkie shook her head, running through the wall as she beckoned me over. Standing up, I made my way out into the hallways and noticed immediately what she was talking about. On the floor were strange symbols dug into the dirt. They circled around what looked like hoof prints in the middle. Even if I got up close, I couldn’t tell which world they were in.

“Pinkie, go down the hall a bit. I need to see something.” With a nod, Pinkie galloped down the hallway, her world slowly disappearing the farther down she went. As I expected, the hoof prints stayed, but the markings disappeared along with the forest. Four prints laid stained on the tile, sending a chill down my spine. The hallway was luckily empty, so I wiped it off with my gown before signalling Pinkie to come back.

“Zecora might be around here,” I muttered. The sound of a broom falling caught our attention. A little too convenient, if you ask me. I looked over at the door across the hall, debating on whether I should look inside or not. Pinkie gave me a little shove, trying to get me to open the door. As I reached out for the knob, Pinkie hid behind my legs, only leaving enough space to peek. I turned the knob and looked inside, my heart ready to explode.

There was no way. It couldn’t be possible…

In the corner of the janitor closet was Zecora, posed like a cornered dog.

“Stay away! Leave me be! I will not let you eat me!” Pinkie ran past me, her face relieved. She jumped at Zecora, her forelegs spread and ready for a hug, only to go right through her. I’ll be honest, I was surprised to see that happen, but not as much as Pinkie. The mare stood up and tried to poke Zecora, only to go through her like the time we first met. It couldn’t be…

As I approached the zebra, she backed herself further into the corner, her head practically touching the ground. Raising my hands, I got down on my knees to show her I meant no harm. Pinkie noticed what I was doing and ran up beside me, mimicking my actions. Zecora showed no signs of noticing Pinkie at all.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Zecora. I don’t know why, but something tells me that you somehow ended up in my world.” Zecora’s eyes grew wide as I reached out to her with one of my hands. “Pinkie can tell you that I mean no harm. I’m just as confused as you are about all of this.”

With a reluctant hoof, she touched my hand and retracted almost instantly. I forced a smile to show her that she could trust me. Again, she reached out and placed her hoof in my hand. It was cold and rather rugged. After a small shake, I let go and slowly stood up, looking around the room. Now there was only one problem.

“We have to find a way to hide her until we can get her back to your world,” I whispered to Pinkie. She nodded in agreement and poked her head outside of the wall, looking down the hallway as I turned back to the zebra. “Zecora, we need to get you out of here, but no one can see you. If they do, it’ll mean trouble.” Pinkie pulled her head back in waved her hoof.

“The coast is clear.” Opening the closet door, I looked both ways to make sure everything was fine before guiding Zecora to my room. As we entered, I looked around the room, trying to find a place to hide Zecora. My eyes wandered around the room before noticing my cell phone on nightstand. There was one person that could help.

Grabbing the phone, I dialed Kibble’s number.

“Come on, please pick up...”

“Hello?”

“Kibble! Thank God you answered. I have a huge problem.”

“Can it wait? I have my gran—”

“I’m sorry, but it can’t. There’s a pony, er, zebra in my room.”

“A zebra?”

“Yes, but it isn’t a ghost like the other ponies. It’s literally in my room.”

“...”

“Kibble?”

“I thought I was off my rocker, kid. You sure that surgery didn’t mess with your head?”

“I’m not kidding! She’s right here, standing before me. I don’t know why, but she’s here in our world! She was in my room last night spraying dust around and then I found her in a broom closet this morning.”

“...”

“Talk to me, Kibble. I need your help.”

“...I’ll be there in ten minutes. If she is there, we’ll find a way to get her out of there and hide her. I hope this ain’t some side-effect, Vinny.”

The phone beeped, signalling the end of the call. Throwing the phone on the bed, I turned back to Pinkie and Zecora.

“Any ideas, Pinkie?” Zecora glanced over to the spot I was looking at, then back to me, confusion plastered across her face.

“Is Pinkie here? I felt her presence near.” Pinkie’s jaw dropped as she jumped in front of the zebra, waving her hooves like mad.

“Zecora! I’m right here!” She started to make faces, trying to grasp Zecora’s attention. “Lookie! Bleh! Right in front of your face.”

I placed my hand on top of Pinkie’s head, stopping her short. Pinkie looked up at me with a face that could break any man’s heart. She was truly upset by that fact that Zecora couldn’t see or hear her. Taking my hand off of her, I shook my head as Pinkie sulked away towards the hallway.

“Pinkie is here, but she isn’t. You see, I have some sort of tie with the world you’re from, Zecora. I’m able to see and hear ponies, but I can’t interact with them. Pinkie and a few other ponies are the only exceptions.” Zecora looked at the ground with a guilty expression.

“My spell was meant to deal with an out of world problem, to bring balance back.” She looked around the room with deep concern. “I did not think it would send me to your world as an attack.”

Scratching my chin, I sat back down on my bed and thought about my next course of action. Zecora’s intentions were good, but she didn’t expect them to backfire like this. Having her in our world only complicated things for both of us.

Pinkie emerged from wall, her eyes wide. “Someone’s coming! Someone’s coming!” In a panic, Zecora and I looked around the room, trying to figure out a place to hide.

“Under the bed!” I exclaimed, pointing towards the bed. With a leap, Zecora dove underneath as the nurse entered the room.

“Good morning, Mr. Panem.” I faked a smile and placed my feet down on the floor in hopes of further concealing Zecora.

“Good morning to you!” If I could have punched myself right then and there, I would have. My greeting was way too enthusiastic, causing the nurse to raise an eyebrow. A grin crept onto her face as she overlooked her clipboard.

“Today’s your last day. I can see you’re excited to leave,” she cooed, marking some notes on the piece of paper. A cold sweat began to run down my face as she came closer to the bed. If she found Zecora, I don’t know what I’d do. I didn’t want to resort to attacking her, but if I had to…

“Good morni—” Kibble stopped short at the doorway, seeing the nurse with me. Marios was there as well, poking his head in the doorway. “Is this a bad time? I just wanted to talk to Vincent real quick.” The nurse looked back to me with an expression that said, “Are you sure?” I nodded, beckoning them in.

“I just need a moment alone if you don’t mind.”

“Alright,” she said, heading towards the door. “We’ll do our final tests after your visit, okay?”

“Okay,” I muttered as Kibble and Marios came into the room. Once the nurse left, I jumped from my bed and closed the door. Dropping the blinds, I looked in every nook and cranny to make sure no one was watching us.

“Alright, Zecora. You can come out.” As the zebra exited from under my bed, both Kibble and Marios’s jaws dropped. Zecora looked at them with a disgusted face, clearly not enjoying the first impression.

“Jesus Lord Almighty,” Kibble grumbled. Out of nowhere, Marios dropped to his knees and bowed down to me.

“Vinny! The prophecy is true! You are the chosen one!” Tears ran down his cheeks as he wrapped his arms around my leg. “You have begun the first step toward reaching Equestria, to our salvation. Thank you, O Great One!”

Out of disgust and a bit of hatred for the guy, I kicked him off my leg. He stood back up and wiped his eyes, a smile stretched from ear to ear across his face. I withheld a chuckle as Kibble facepalmed, clearly ashamed by his grandson’s behavior. Once I collected my thoughts, I sat down on the bed and let out an annoyed sigh.

“We can’t have her here. If anyone finds her… I don’t think Zecora would like Area 51 all that much.” Zecora looked to me with a puzzled expression. I wasn’t about to tell her about that. The last thing I needed was her knowing about humans’ tendency of running tests and cutting shit open with creatures they’ve never seen before.

“And how do you propose we get her out?” Kibble asked with a furrowed brow. Looking around the room, I could only see one way of escape.

“The window.” Pointing at Marios, I continued. “We’re on the ground floor, so Marios is going to have to take Zecora and meet you at your car.”

“And what do we tell the staff when they notice that Marios doesn’t come along with me?”

I didn’t even think of that…

“I’ll figure something out. I’ll tell them that he went to the bathroom or something,” I said with a shrug. Kibble shook his head, ultimately disappointed with my plan.

“Alright, but if we get caught, I won’t hesitate to snitch and throw the blame on you.” With a nod, I wrenched my bed sheet and laid it on top of Zecora, who was clearly perplexed by the situation. Kneeling down beside her, I laid a hand on her wither.

“Listen, these two are going to get you out of here. We’re going to take you someplace safe until we can find you a way back to your world.” Zecora nodded before following Marios over to the window. With a little bit of effort, he jumped out and grabbed Zecora as I handed her over. Marios carefully placed her on the ground, then made his way toward the lot.

“We’ll keep her in my apartment until we can figure out what to do next. Pass by when you’re out of this place,” Kibble grumbled on the way out my room. Taking a seat back on my bed, I waited for the nurse to return. Pinkie paced around the room anxiously as I tried to calm her down.

“Pinkie, she’s going to be fine. We’ll find a way to get her back home.”

“How?”

I stroked my chin, deep in thought. I hadn’t thought about that at all. To be honest, it wasn’t something that concerned me at that moment. I was more worried about getting Zecora somewhere safe and away from the human populace.

“We’ll figure something out.” Looking around the room, I noticed something missing. “Pinkie, where’s Lyra?” Pinkie looked over at the campsite in the corner before her eyes widened.

“I don’t know. She was with me when we were at Zecora’s house, but I forgot all about her when I rushed over here.”

Two mysteries in one day. I was starting to wonder whether or not I was part of a Scooby Doo gang or something at this point, what with all the problems arising out of nowhere. Before I could even suggest anything, the nurse entered the room.

“Are you ready, Mr. Panem?” Glancing at Pinkie out of the corner of my eye, I nodded and waved my hand, hoping Pinkie got the hint to leave. The nurse wrote something down in her clipboard as I got up from my bed and followed her, piquing my curiosity. Every little thing I did, this woman would write something on her paper and press it again her chest, almost like she didn’t want me to see it.

“What are you constantly writing on that clipboard?” I asked as we made our way toward the CT Scan room. The nurse glanced at her clipboard once more and then back to me.

“I’m supposed to keep an eye on your behavior. We want to make sure there aren’t any side effects from the surgery.”

“Have you noticed anything that I haven’t?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. I just keep notes on here showing that you’re fine.”

She held out the clipboard for me to see. Along the lines were nothing but chicken scratch. From the looks of it, it was the same thing on each line, so I could only assume that she was writing down something that said I was doing fine. At least, I hoped…

As we approached the room, I took a quick peek to see if Pinkie was still following me. To my surprise, she wasn’t. Even though the mare had an attention span of gnat, she was rather obedient when she was given a request. The nurse performed her usual procedures, making sure I had nothing on me that was metallic and to inject the gadolinium. This time she gave me a Spongebob bandage before sticking her tongue out at me and heading towards the CT specialist.

The procedure was normal. I got in the machine, they took pictures of the inside of my noggin, showed me the scans and gave me my clothes back. I’ve never been so happy in all of my days to wear my own clothes. Luckily, nobody questioned where Marios had gone off to, so that bit was lifted from my shoulders. As I grabbed my valuables from my room, I couldn’t help but open up my journal. In only two weeks, so much had happened in my life. I couldn’t tell whether I was blessed or cursed.

“Ready to go, buddy?” I turned to the door to see Mr. Offa wearing a huge smirk on his face. Closing the book, I returned the smile.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

Little did I know, my adventure was only beginning.

Author's Note

Zecora, I can't stand your rhyming. It sucks.
God, you piss me off. I'm not rhyming this fucking crap.

(Chapter 11) Day 16: "Zebra Piles"

You’d think that after spending three nights in hospital, I’d sleep soundly in my own bed. That wasn’t the case at all. Instead, I ended up lying in my bed for eight hours trying my best to fall asleep. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t do it; I had too much on my mind. Not only was the thought of death creeping around the corner, flooding my conscious, what with barely passing by with a tumor, but I had another problem looming over me.

How was I going get Zecora back?

She came to our world using magic. That shit wasn’t logical here. There’s no such thing as magic on Earth. The more I thought about how she was stuck here, the wider awake I grew. There had to be some way of getting her back home…

Grabbing my cell phone, I looked over my contacts. My fingers stopped as I reached Marios’s number. What could he be doing right now with Zecora in our world? I couldn’t trust the guy: he would most likely run to his IPU buddies and tell them some wild story, like “their time to reach Equestria was here” or something. Instinctively, I pressed the call button. It rang a couple of times before he answered.

“Hello…?” He sounded exhausted. It was only natural. As I looked over at my alarm clock, I noticed it was two in the morning.

“What’re you up to right now?”

“I was trying to calm this beast until you called me. Is something wrong?”

I sat there thinking of a legitimate reason for calling him. I didn’t want to ask him about Zecora, but I needed to know if I planned to fall asleep at all that night.

“I’m going to the bar down the street. It’s called Pour House. Just want to talk. You mind passing by?”

A long moment of silence.

“Sure.”

The call ended. Throwing on some clothes, I headed down the street towards the shithole. As much as I despised that place, I always found myself going there when I needed to get something off my chest. The street was rather empty, both of ponies and humans alike. However, something did stop me as I approached the bar.

“Vinny!” A quiet whisper caught my attention in the noiseless street, causing me to ready my guard. A familiar pair of amber-colored eyes drew me towards a dark alleyway.

“Lyra, where have you been? Pinkie was worried about you.” Lyra waved her hoof, trying to dismiss the subject. She held out a book covered in strange markings with her magical aura.

“Listen, I heard about what happened to Zecora and I have an idea on how to get her back.” I stopped for a moment and kneeled down, ready to listen to her plan. Lyra flipped through the pages before coming to a halt.

“Zecora’s enchantment made it that she has to ‘deal with the evil spirits’. That’s you humans,” she commented, pointing at me with her muzzle. “It doesn’t say anything about vanquishing, but it does say she has to bring peace.”

“What does that even mean?”

Lyra scratched her chin with her hoof. “I don’t know. It might just mean that you have to show her that humans aren’t evil in some way or you have to fight to the death. I can’t tell. I’m not a zebra. I didn’t make this stuff up.”

“Lyra, that’s racist.”

“That’s xenophobic, Vincent. Don’t you get all white knight on me. I’m not trying to disparage her kind.”

I’ll admit, I was a little taken aback by that. I even backed up a bit and put my hands up as a sign of surrender. The mare continued to look over the mysterious tome in hopes of finding something else. With a heavy sigh, she looked me in the eyes.

“Listen, I’ll find you if I find anything else.” With a ‘thump’, she slammed the book shut. “What’re you doing out at this time of night anyway?”

My eyebrow raised up, almost as on its own. “I should be asking the same question.”

Lyra rolled her eyes before heading off past me. “Whatever. You’re not my dad; you don't get to tell me what to do.”

“The same could be said for you, Mom.”

And with that, the minty pony was gone, buried beneath the darkness of the alley. I couldn’t help but stare off into it, almost wishing she would rush back with an answer. Alas, no such thing would come that easy.

I continued my way toward the old bar. As I approached, I opened the door to find the usual cloud of smoke escape the building. The smell was disgusting. I will never understand why this place is still open despite being utterly revolting. After my final breath of fresh air, I entered the building.

The usual biker crowd sat at the bar, pounding away pints of beer like water. After a quick survey of the place, I found Marios sitting in the back, a pint in his hands.

“I didn’t take you for a drinker,” I said, trying to make light conversation. He looked down into his glass, almost reluctant to reply.

“One of the bikers over there got it for me.” A quick glance over the shoulder helped me identify the man in question almost immediately. He gave Marios a slightly flamboyant wave and wink before turning back to his buddies. I couldn’t help but laugh at Marios’s expense.

“Oh, man. That’s rich.” A random question popped into my head. “How’d you get here before I did? I only live a few blocks away.” His finger pointed up to the ceiling.

“I live right upstairs.” Marios’s eyes quickly glanced over the bartender. “The owner’s apparently from South Africa and keeps asking why there’s hooves clip-clopping upstairs accompanied by zebra neighs.”

Before I could even respond, I heard it. It sounded like a loud laugh from a hyena mixed with a donkey. I could feel the bartender’s eyes move to our table. Marios just stared at me, not wanting to make any sort of contact with him.

“How much longer am I going to have that zebra in my apartment? I can’t play this game forever.”

“Just take that biker upstairs with you. Tell the owner that the noises are from the ‘partners’ you bring with you.”

Marios’s face turned red. His gaze turned into a glare rather quickly. “What did you even bring me here for? Did you want to just mock me for helping you?”

“No, not at all. I’m just needed someone to talk to about all this. It’s stressful, ya know, seeing horses and shit.”

Marios’s glare seized, a smirk creeping up on his face. “Trying living with one, then come talk to me.”

“She’s not a horse, she’s a zebra. Don’t be so xenophobic.” Thanks, Lyra.

“It neighs, has hooves, and a long face. It’s like a horse.”

“Look me dead in the eye and say that shit sounds like a horse’s neigh.” To punctuate my statement, Zecora let out another one. Marios shifted uncomfortably.

“Whatever. What did you want to talk about?”

I leaned back in my seat and looked up to the ceiling. Why did I call him here? I could have called anyone else, but I called Marios instead.

“You’re in that weird cult—”

“It’s not a cult.”

“— and I figured you’d be the only person I could talk to and not find me crazy.”

Marios bit his lip. Despite knowing that I was weird, he knew that I wasn’t crazy. Or in the event he did think I was, he played along really well. It’s not like he could pretend anyway; he did have a fucking zebra living in his apartment.

Without hesitation, Marios took a large swig from his drink and leaned back in his seat. “Alright, what’s on your mind?”

“I need to get Zecora back to her world. She doesn’t belong here. Another pony told me the only way for her to get her back is if she ‘confronts’ the evil spirits of our world and brings peace.”

“That could mean a lot things.”

“Exactly. That’s why I can’t sleep. I keep thinking, ‘How is she going to get back?’”

Marios grabbed his chin, lost in thought. He sat like that for five minutes before responding.

“Maybe she’s here to help you.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“It’s a long shot, but you’re the ‘evil spirit’, are you not?”

“I wouldn’t say evil. Twisted in more ways than one, but not evil.”

“It seems like she’s here to help ease your pain.” He stared me down with a serious expression. “You’re not exactly the happiest guy, after all.”

“You wouldn’t be either if you could see weird horses and shit that other people would throw you into a looney bin for.”

“That’s my point. She might be the hero you need.”

“Not the one I want, that’s for sure,” I replied under my breath. Though, it did make sense. Maybe Zecora was brought here to help and I’ve been looking at the picture all wrong. But what problem was she going to help me with? It’s not like she could magically make my pony vision disappear. There was only one way to find out, though.

“Alright,” I sighed as I got up from my seat. “Let’s get Zecora to my apartment.”

“What? Right now?”

“When would be a better time?” I pointed to the clock. “It’s the dead of night. Now’s a better time than ever.”

Marios looked down at his drink, a look of disbelief on his face. He then grabbed it and chugged the rest. Even I was impressed.

“Alright, let’s do this.” As we walked back out into dark streets, Marios showed me to his sketchy looking front door. Once inside, I could see why he didn’t quite enjoy having Zecora in his home. The place was a mess. There was furniture overturned, papers all over the place, messy piles of literal shit in the corners; it was like I entered an actual stable.

“Zecora? You here?”

As I scanned the room, I saw a pair of glowing yellow eyes sitting on the far side. She slowly creeped out of her corner, caution covering her face. “I beg you human, pray tell. Have you found me a way out of this hell?”

Marios didn’t seem to happy about her question. “Hey, I’ve done nothing but try to make your stay here comfortable. And instead, you shit in my living room!”

“Marios, calm down. She is sort of an animal after all. You can’t expect her to use the toilet right away.”

“Oh no. The toilet is easy to use,” Zecora cut in. “I just wanted to play a little ruse.”

Hella fucked up. I couldn’t help but shake my head as Marios’s eye twitched and fists clenched. “It’s not worth it. Besides, she’ll be out of your hair and in mine shortly.”

That seemed to calm him down, but I could still see the anger in his eyes. I switched my focus back to Zecora. “Listen, we’re gonna move you to my place. Right now is the perfect time to move you about the streets without bringing any attention to us.”

Zecora went on about she didn’t want to stay with an interrogator. I can only assume that meant Marios went overboard with the questions and hit a soft spot or something. I was too focused on getting a zebra the size of a large dog over to my place to dive into any deeper.

Taking off my hoodie, I wrapped it around Zecora and made my way downstairs. Marios went ahead and checked the street to see if it was clear to go. After his signal, I made my way outside with Zecora not too far away. The hairs on my neck raised when we heard the front door of the bar swing open.

“Hey, pretty boy!”

Marios and I turned around to find the burly biker that bought him a drink approach us. He was clearly drunk off his ass.

“What’s yer boy got that I don’t?”

Calmly, I tried to defuse the situation. “Sir, we’re not—”

“Shut the fuck up! I ain’t talking to you!” His eyes darted back at Marios, tears starting to well in them. “I bought you a drink. The least you coulda done was thank me for it!”

Marios’s face showed clear signs of panic. “Uh… I’m sorry? I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just… you see my friend here, with—” The biker’s focus was now on Zecora, who didn’t turn around. “—my dog. Yeah, my dog!”

I nudged Zecora with my leg. I could hear her let out an exasperated sigh.

“Woof.”

“He was just coming to pick her up,” Marios continued. “She doesn’t do well with new people and… I didn’t want you to come over with…” Anything said from that point on was unintelligible . Marios’s head was pointed down at the floor as the biker cooed sweet nothings. He dug a hole and this biker was about to fill it up. (If you know what I mean.) Zecora and I started heading down the street as Marios let the man into his home, clearly unsure of what was about to go down.

“Poor bastard. That guy is gonna destroy him. That is, if he doesn’t wonder why there’s piles of shit all over.”

Zecora chuckled. “That poor man. So skinny and teeny. He’s in for a big surprise from that bear’s weeny.”

I won’t lie. My sides almost burst as I walked down the street after hearing that. I don’t know why she spoke in rhymes, but it made conversations a hundred times better. After finally catching my breath, we made our way back to the apartment, making sure to take a few alleys along the way.

Big mistake.

As we turned down the last alley that led to the front of my apartment, someone jumped out from behind a dumpster. I quickly leapt in front of Zecora, ready to take the hit. My eyes closed and my teeth clenched, but I quickly realized nothing bad was going to happen. As my eyes shot open, I saw a bum stand before me, barely in the conscious world.

“The zebra and the pony man, standing before me. Your future is a strange one from what I see.”

What is it with everyone around me rhyming? The man quickly backed up and pointed at the sky.

“When the time is right, she’ll go back home. Then you’ll fulfill the quest of the ancient tome.”

“Ancient tome?” I repeated.

He ignored my question and continued. “Your answer lies not with what you do for her, but instead with her helping you, young sir.”

“You’re speaking crazy talk.”

“Heed my words and be careful still. They’ll find you, the ones who are… evil.”

The silence after that statement could fill a stadium. “That didn’t rhyme.”

And before I knew it, the man booked it, disappearing into the darkness. Turning to Zecora, I looked at her for answers. She merely shrugged.

“Don’t ask me. I clearly don’t know. The craziness in this world continues to grow.” She was right. I remember just being able to see ponies and that was my end of crazy. All this shit happening to me was just an added plus for when they finally send my ass to a psych ward.

“Let’s just get inside.” After three flights of stairs, making a sleeping quarter for Zecora and a quick entry to the journal, I finally laid in my bed, ready to sleep. My eyes closed before and sleep slowly began its course…

...until the alarm kicked in and the start of a new day was there.

Author's Note

For those wonder what a zebra's neigh sounds like:

Also, sorry this took so long. Except more frequent updates. I have more time on my hands at work and get bored real quick.