Cracked

Alright.

Well, here I am. That conversation in the hospital was three days ago, but it felt like mere seconds. I must be so used to each second of the day being agonizing, that it just felt like a breeze. It was still tiring, though; preparing for school again. Not to mention, how I'm coming in so late in the year.

My thinking halts, I'm just trying to distract myself. Standing here, outside the gate, looking like a confused zombie in the middle of the day. The gate, while nothing special to look at, does seem to make me oddly nervous. It's normal, after all, who wouldn't be nervous in my position? Going to a boarding school for the first time in my life, dealing with the condition-

Take a deep breath.

I put on my best fake smile, which admittedly is a bad one, and push the already slightly ajar gate open. Inside, I'm immediately met with a small, bending, pavement path. My nervousness fades slightly once I see how nice it is; small trees on either side of me, the multitude of colorful birds that fly around them, and the occasional bench here and there.

Kind of nice, actually; like a park.

I turn to the school complex, which looked smaller from the outside. It was giant, really, almost as big as my old school. That place was like a castle, though, hard to compete with that.

I shake the thought from my head.

If "Oak Boarding School" wasn't plastered above the entrance, it would have looked like a town hall- or something else important. Three stories high, made out of marble and brick, and overall really clean, it's nice. Also intimidating in it's own way, too.

Not wanting to waste anymore time looking at the scenery, I start making my way down the path. I wasn't sure about this place, even still, but it feels good to be out of that hospital. To move, to feel the sun, to breath fresh air; all of it feels great. Maybe this place won't be so bad.

I push past the doors, heading inside expecting not to find a soul in sight.

Instead, I find a mare.

Her coat's white, reminding me of a certain doctor I had at the hospital. Her eyes, settling on me, seem to instantly snap out of their previously droopy state. The smoke blue color of her mane reminds me of cotton candy, and the red cross for her cutie mark has the image of a syringe running through it. She take a step towards me, narrowing her eyes as she grows a smirk.

"Late on the first day, huh?"

Instincts kick in, definitely not prepared for this. "I was sick," "I wasn't feeling well," "We got stuck," All of these run around in my head. Instead of just choosing one, I make the mistake of trying to say all of it at once.

"Well... I- uh..."

That was fantastic.

She lets out a little laugh, "Easy, kid. Just messin' with ya'."

I mentally sigh, still a bit shaken. I thought I was seriously going to be in trouble there. A small smile crosses my face, anyway. I guess it was a little funny.

"Well, you're String Weaver, right?"

I nod.

Was she waiting for me, just standing here?

"Good. You won't have to worry about your things, I already had that taken care of."

Huh, she does seem nice.

"Thanks."

She nods it off, continuing with her 'speech.'

"I did want you to come with me, though. Just do a little checkup of you before I let you on your way."

A groan wants to escape, but I hold it back. No need to seem like a jerk, and it does seem like she waited for a while. That would've explained the droopy eyes when I first came in.

"Okay."

She wastes no time, trotting down the hall. I hurry after her, not wanting to be lost in this seemingly massive place. The halls are like any other school's; pictures and trophies here and there, fluorescent lighting, the standard. Sometimes voices or laughter would spill out onto the halls from classrooms, then the sounds of a teacher trying to get it under control.

We arrive at her office rather quickly, giving me chills. The inside looks like my old hospital room; various medical tools strewn across a table, the wall is painted in a light green color, and the smell of something fresh fills my nostrils. A single window, letting some sun show in, is beside a bed that looks neither comfortable or painfully uncomfortable.

"Alright, just lay down on the bed over there. I'll get set up..."

*****

I sat on the small dorm bed, looking over to the small cabinet with disdain.

After finishing the checkup, the nurse was nice enough to give me the day off. It put me in a good mood, one that would quickly vanish once I entered my dorm. The best word to describe it is 'plain'; White walls, small bed, two windows, and a dark red carpet covering the floor. A dresser sits at the other side of the room, even though there's not much use for it.

And then there's the cabinet.

I don't hate it, the cabinet is fine. What really got my mood down was when I saw the stuff on top of it.

Multiple bottles, uncountable at a first glance. Each clear, showing the small rounded pills inside. I estimate around seventeen of them. It gets worse, though, when I pick up the small note left next to them.

Hey, Weaver. Below you will find the amount of pills that you need to take each day:

Most pills I need to take once a day, but some of them are needed two or three times. I can't imagine they taste very good either.

I try not to think of it, but a certain question makes itself very clear in my mind.

Am I going to take these for the rest of my life?

If you don't want to blow up you will.

I try to stop it, but I can't help but think of something the doctor said.

"We're making progress on this," the doctor's voice plays in my head, "We might see a cure within seventy years."

Seventy years.

Yeah, right.

They might find a cure, that would require dangerous surgery where most ponies wouldn't even live through. Even if they did, the side effects would be so bad they would have been better off without it.

I start grinding my teeth together, trying to calm down. I don't need to get worked up.

I look at the clock resting beside the bottles, maybe I was looking for some sort of comfort in it; like at the hospital.

2:15 pm

Digital, no ticking or tocking. I-

Three loud bangs come from my door, I figure it's just the nurse knocking on my door. I trot over to it, opening the door to a surprising sight.

A colt, can't be much older than me. Green fur, spiked up black mane, and a pair of glaring orange eyes. With his mouth in a visible frown, I'd have to say he isn't that happy right now.

"Why did I see the nurse-," He says, prodding his hoof at me, "-Going into this room?"

I start to say "None of your business," but my nice side quickly overrides that decision. This guy seems really hot-headed, and aggravating him more might not be a good idea.

"Why?"

He looks like I just smacked him in the face.

"You mean- you don't know?" His voice grows low, almost into a whisper.

"Know about what- Who are you?"

He rushes inside, bumping into and almost knocking me over in the process. He slams the door shut behind him, almost dragging me with him to the other side of the room.

"You don't know, this is could be bad. This is bad."

He begins pacing around the room,with his face turning to one of pure terror. I'm still left in a dazed state, wondering why there's some colt going crazy in my room.

"Why are you in my room...?"

He freezes, his look of terror replace by one of deep thought. He turns, trotting over to me and looking me right in the eye.

"She's working with them."

"Who?"

"The princesses."

I have a feeling that this conversation is going nowhere.

"So that's why you're in my room?"

Again, he has that look on his face like I did something wrong.

"Yes. Don't you see how serious this is, she could have planted a brain washing machine in here!"

"..."

We just stare at each other, the awkwardness creeping up my spine as the room becomes silent. I have no idea what to say, or if I should say anything. Whoever this is, he has just made my brain malfunction.

It's a few seconds before he smirks, narrowing his eyes once again.

"You got some balls, dude. Taking on the matriarchy head on without a care in the world. Brave, maybe a little foolish, but brave. I also liked your disguise, acting like you had no idea what I was talking about- almost as good as me."

He holds his hoof out, looking at me expectantly.

"Oversight, legendary operator against the sun."

My hoof meets with his, giving it a quick shake.

"Yeah- String Weaver. Kinda' new here."

"Hm... String Weaver..."

He says my name slowly, looking at me intently with knee-jerk seriousness. Another awkward silence fills the room, seemingly unscathing Oversight as he takes survey of me. He does this for a few excruciating seconds, finally taking his eyes off me with a exasperated sigh.

"'String Weaver,' not a bad fake name, but not a particularly good one either."

Does he do this with everyone he meets?

"Now, I must go prepare some fake vomit to fool the corrupt teachers. If anypony asks; you praise Celestia, the sun doesn't go around the planet on it's own, and I was never here."

I let out a "Okay," my brain working at the pace of a snail as it tries to comprehend this pony.

"Cool, dude. By the way, you look awful. I know you gotta' do those all night operations, but try getting at least three hours of sleep. That's what I do."

Before anything else could be said, he makes his leave. I'm left with my thoughts, that one statement hitting harder then it should. I trot over to the window, looking over my reflection.

The first thing I notice is the almost distant look in my iris blue eyes, and then the dark circles that outline them. My mane, a frizzled and un-brushed mess of azure. My fur, usually keeping it's cobalt color, is a slightly paler version of itself. My cutie mark, a violin with a stream of magic twirling around it, makes me cringe.

It requires magic, something I can no longer use.

Deciding to avoid going down that railroad of thoughts, I look back to my eyes in the reflection.

Oversight was right, I look terrible. I might take his advice, get some shuteye; I haven't done much today, but I still feel the tug of exhaustion against my head. I make my way over to the bead, sitting myself down with a sigh. With a quick glance to the pills, I decide now would be the best time.

Deciding to get it over with as soon as possible, I levitate-

Bzzt.

A quick spark of magic.

I find myself face-down on the floor in milliseconds, panting like I'd just ran a marathon. My heart's stabbing through my chest with each tremendous beat; one quickly after another. A headache like no other splits through my forehead like lightning, making me nauseous.

Why did I try to use magic? Why?

Why did I forget?

"H-...elp..."

I release a croaked plea; straining my vocal cords to make sound. It only sends another wave of pain and nausea as I use energy, but now is not the time to be laying around. I need to get somepony's attention; fast.

I stumbled up; each leg on fire as I force them to keep me upright. I tremble as my headache gets even worse, making my eyes perspire and distorting my vision.

Quick.

Something.

I have to make noise. Something that will bring attention.

The alarming rate of my heard causes me to freeze for a moment, causing me to grit my teeth together in frustration. I look around the room; trying to find anything that could get me out of this dreadful situation.

...Door.

I don't really have much of a choice.

With one short leap, I throw myself at the door head-first; darkness consuming me as soon as I feel the impact.

What a day...