Bricks in the Wall

by _NAME_

Rating: teen
Tags: Sad, Drama, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Profanity, Violence
Length: 162763

Sometimes, we put on a mask to hide our true feelings. Sometimes, we wear them for far too long and we forget who we are underneath. A story about a troubled stallion and his descent into madness. All in all, it was just a brick in the wall.

Sometimes, we put on a mask to hide our true feelings. Sometimes, we end up wearing them for far too long and we forget who we are underneath, and we lose ourselves to the madness.

My name is Pink, and I am alone.

I found my mask at an early age, and I’ve been wearing it ever since. I’ve hidden myself away, behind this wall I’ve made myself.

My entire life has been nothing but heartache and misfortune. I found solace in the bottom of a bottle, in sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, anything to fill in the empty spaces and block out the pain.

I used to think none of it was my fault, but now I’m not so sure. I’ve caught a glimpse through the cracks in the bricks that make up this wall, and I’m afraid.

I’m afraid that I was wrong.

I’m afraid to take off this mask and face the reproaching eyes of the world.

All in all, it’s just another brick in the wall.

All in all, you’re all just another brick in my wall.

~All chapters but the very last chapter of this story are finished. I made the decision to abandon this story with a heavy heart, but I have to move on from it. I have, however, posted everything I did write for the final chapter, as well as detailed notes to fill in the blanks. I consider this story completed now. Read this blog post for more info.

~Inspired and adapted from Pink Floyd's 1979 album, 'The Wall.'

Published 2012-04-08 19:34:04 UTC
Last updated 2016-08-30 15:22:27 UTC

Chapter Zero: The Show?

Bricks in the Wall

Rcw99

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Inspired by Pink Floyd’s The Wall

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Chapter Zero

The Show?

…we came in?”

There was silence drifting in and around me. It was a sort of deafening, permeating silence that eludes all but the most unlucky. I sat in that silence, in the frigid night air, feeling the phantom embrace of another pony beside me, warming my bones.

Soft spoken words slipped through my mind, like the fleeting memories of a dream moments after you wake up, disturbing the silence. They were words of a different time, of a different place so far away I had trouble remembering if it were real or not.

‘I love you,’ those words said, ‘Everything will turn out alright, you’ll see...’

The silence slowly faded back in into the forefront, though it wasn’t quite as deafening as before. I felt a soft, warm bodypress up beside me, though I knew that there was nopony there. A pair of moist lips pressed against the side of my snout and the presence shifted away, causing the cold to seep back into my body. I raised a hoof to where the evanescent kiss touched my snout, absentmindedly stroking it.

A hoof suddenly tapped me on the shoulder and I twirled around to see my manager, a short, tan pegasus. He was saying something; I could see his lips move, but I couldn’t hear him through the silence’s roaring din. Regardless, I nodded in agreement to whatever he was saying, and, seemingly satisfied, he patted me on the back and trotted away.

Abruptly brought back to reality, I looked around the hallway I was sitting in the middle of. The hall was empty, save for a few ponies hurrying back and forth through it, carrying boxes of equipment with them. I’m sure they had something to do with the concert they were setting up for. My concert, I reminded myself. Pink Floyd, the world-renowned musician’s greatest hits tour across all of Equestria and several bordering countries.

I was on my fifth performance and was already feeling drained.

I vaguely remembered somepony telling me that tonight’s show had sold out within days. So many ponies wanted to see me sing, to hear my songs. It was almost uplifting enough to drown my sorrows in.

But not quite.

One of the roadies, tied up in a jumble of wires, nearly walked right into me, but sidestepped around me at the last second. He glanced behind him, a scowl crossing his face, and continued on his way.

I sighed and stretched out a bit more, letting my gaze drift back to the floor. The roadies were probably pissed at me, for sitting right in the middle of one of the offstage corridors, but I made no move to get up. Damn them. They could move around me. Do them some good, I expect. They had perfectly good hooves. I didn’t care.

I hadn’t cared for such a long time.

I ran a hoof through my frizzy graying mane and groaned, blinking my tired and old eyes. There had been rumors floating around, in trashy gossip rags, that I had lost my spirit, my touch. Rumors that I was just another spent rock star going through the motions, just to feel somewhat whole again, to try and relive some of those glory days, and that my shows had lost their luster.

Was that true?

It might've been. There have been times, more recent than before, that I wished I could just be plain old Pink again, not this Pink Floyd stage name that all my fans know me as. If I had known all those years ago, in that tumultuous foalhood, how tired I would be now, I might've never gotten as far as I did. Pink Floyd, the celebrated voice of Equestria, was always in constant demand, and Pink, the bland, tired, aging stallion, never seemed to have time for himself any longer.

Was it irony that I was turning gray like my stage name had always said? That's what floyd meant, after all.

The silence that had oppressed me earlier had all but dissipated, blinked off in a moment, and through the walls of the hall, muffled chanting reached my ears. “Pink! Floyd! Pink! Floyd! Pink! Floyd!” My persona turned into a mantra that could only have been sung by my fans out in the stadium. It was nothing I hadn’t heard before at any other show I’d done, but something about it piqued my interest. I clambered to my hooves and walked unsteadily to the main stage.

I hesitated at the stage door for a moment before pushing past it. The level of noise that hit me almost sent me reeling back into the soundproof hallways, but I pressed past it, and trotted into the wings of the stage. The stage itself was a hub of activity. Ponies of all sorts bustled to and fro making sure everything was set up for my concert.

Yet, the level of energy on the stage was greatly surpassed only by the audience out in the stadium. A heavy curtain separated me from the crowd that was roaring out my name in a vain attempt to get me out on stage sooner.

I peeked out from behind the drapes at the mass of ponies out in the field only to stare in amazement. The stadium was packed to the brim with ponies of every size, shape, and color, who swayed back in forth in some unknown, yet communal melody. I could pick out one or two zebras, and even a donkey packed into the crowd as well. The pegasi and griffons controlled the air, flitting back and forth above the heads of the crowd, some even lounging on clouds that drifted over the field. Harsh arena lighting spilled over the throng of bodies, accentuating their already harsh, vibrant coat colors to something that was almost unbearable to look at.

So many had turned out for the show tonight. My show, I chided myself again. Every single one of these ponies had shown up just to see me perform, as though they didn’t have anything better to do with their time. They all looked so carefree, so innocent, laughing and enjoying life as ponies nowadays did. Not like my generation. I never had a chance to live my life without threat of the return of war looming overhead.

As I gazed out over the mass of colorful ponies beyond the stage, one mare in particular caught my attention. While the rest of the audience seemed preoccupied with the prospect of the show that was soon to start, this mare’s striking clear blue eyes were staring straight at me. A knowing grin was plastered on her face, as though she knew it was me peering through the curtains, though I knew nopony could’ve identified me.

Pink.

This mare’s coat, though matted with sweat and dirt, was almost as pink as mine was. Pink just like my mother’s was. The mare’s curly and darker pink mane hung limply at the sides of her head, weighted down with sweat, though it didn’t appear to bother her very much.

Oi, Pink!

The mare blinked, her smile growing even wider, if that was possible, and waved in my direction. I gulped and took a step backwards, disappearing from view. Maybe she did see me. I peeked back around the curtain, but the mare had turned away and was chattering away excitedly to the ponies around her, nearly vibrating with energy. I could still see her bright blue eyes lingering in my mind, though. Eyes like that had never seen any disappointment, felt any pain or seen the darker side of life. They were innocent eyes.

My own dark and troubled eyes hadn't been that light and airy in a long time.

“Pink! Oi, Pink!” A hoof grabbed my head and forcibly twisted me around to face its owner, my manager, Short. “Pinky,” he sighed, “Oh Pink, wha’ am I gonna do with you?” His tan hoof griped me tightly as he led me away from the curtains. “You feelin’ alrigh’ to do this show, Pink? Celestia only knows wha’ goes on in your head nowadays…”

We stopped walking and he glanced at me, concern in his eyes. “You are alrigh’, ain’t you Pink? I’m askin’ as your oldes’ friend. We need ya up an' at 'em tonigh’.”

I breathed in, and then met his gaze. “Yeah, I—“ My voice cracked. “Yeah, I’m a-alright... Just… Thinkin’, you know?”

“You think a lot, Pink. “ He smiled. “Just… You remember the set list an' all?” I nodded. “Alrigh’y then. We’re on in a few, so get ready, mate.” He patted me on the back and trotted away, leaving me alone in the middle of the stage.

I glanced, almost longingly, back at the curtain that separated me from the rabble outside, and then shuffled offstage to go get ready. There once had been a time, long ago, that I had had costuming and makeup people for me and my band mates. Nowadays, I didn't bother with any of that crap. I didn't want any of it.

Some poor, skittish-looking stagehoof was waiting for me just off to the side with my outfit for the night clasped in his hooves. All I ever put on these days were a pair of dark sunglasses and a leather coat. It was something.

Forcefully taking the two items from the colt, I slipped on the jacket with practiced ease, and then clipped the sunglasses onto one of the front pockets. The jacket, which did little to counteract the cold night air, was mostly just for show, a remnant of my youth, and a concession to Short. The sunglasses, on the other hand, were very much for my own benefit.

I took a deep, deep breath, and then let it out.

It was getting time to start. Most of the ponies that had been on the stage had cleared out by now, and the stage manager was making his final rounds. From out of the wings, from one of the dressing rooms, I'd imagine, came in the rest of the musicians that would be performing along with me tonight.

As they filed past, a few of them glanced at me, varying degrees of emotions crossing their faces as they did. I couldn't recall any of their names. Not anymore. These live shows involved so many different ponies that I could hardly keep track of them anymore. None of them were around when I first began to put out albums. None of them were my original studio crew. All these new ponies cycled through so often that I didn't keep track of them any longer.

I nodded absentmindedly at a few of them that met my gaze, and fell in behind them, following them back to center stage. They took their positions by their instruments, checking that the roadies had set everything up right. We had a large cast of instruments for this show tonight. There was the usual repertoire of guitars, drums, keyboards, bass, but there was also an entire orchestra situated off to the left, and some other instruments strewn about the place.

There was going to be a lot of noise coming from this stage tonight.

I stood near the back and waited for the inevitable to begin. Everypony sounded off that they were ready and looked at me for confirmation to continue. I nodded and motioned for us to start the show.

Anypony left on the stage that wasn't in the band scurried off, leaving a startling lack of bodies where there were so many before. The stage manager gave a quiet countdown, and then the stage plunged into darkness.

There was nothing for a few seconds.

Scattered coughing. Shuffling of hooves. The roar of the crowd.

I drew in another shaky breath.

The curtains parted, revealing the colorful crowd beyond, which seemed to almost instantaneously grow even louder, cheering my name, as the stadium lighting dimmed to a dull glow.

Of course, though we could see them, they couldn’t see us. Without lights, the stage and the band was obscured in blackness. Artificial smoke began to roll off the edge of the stage, covering the first few rows in a dense fog. I could make out a few ponies shifting and struggle to see through the sudden fog, hoping for a glimpse their idol, or even just the band. But I knew that they couldn’t be able to, just how I liked it. If it were up to me, I would perform the entire concert under the cover of darkness, an impenetrable barrier that separated me from everypony else. But it wasn’t up to me. Nothing was anymore.

Still, beyond the front rows, I could easily see the faces of ponies lit up by the dim light. They all looked so eager, so carefree, just like the pink mare from before. They were all like this, these days, so innocent and pure. They hadn’t lived long enough to have their spirits crushed, and to be ripped to pieces by the uncaring hooves of fate.

They didn’t know. They lived their lives in the moment, and it was only until you were older do you realize you can’t do that. I almost envied them; it wasn’t fair.

Innocence is something that, once lost, you can never recover, no matter how much you struggle to make things right. Nothing could ever remove the scars of the past. Nopony could fill the gaping hole where you once held on to the fleeting grasp of hope.

Ponies today are much too sheltered, too privileged. None of these stallions and mares watching the stage with eager anticipation had lived through any sort of troubles, any sort of war, like I had. Sure, they learned about it in their schools, but they could never understand how it mercilessly ripped away everything I, and this nation, loved. They wouldn’t ever know.

It wasn’t fair.

I scowled, and somewhere on the stage, I could hear a stallion muttering a count-in to the first song. I knew I should probably be getting ready to begin the show, but I couldn’t bring myself to it. That musical spark hadn’t been there all night. I wasn’t in the mood to do this, but I would try my hardest anyway.

As the stallion’s voice hit two, the orchestra behind me began to swell for the intro to the song. Amateurs. They couldn’t even start on the correct number; they jumped the gun by a full two seconds and probably threw off the rest of the band’s timing. I couldn’t even trust these ‘professionals’ to perform properly. Though, to be fair, there wasn’t much I trusted in these days. Believing in something always led to shattered promises.

I shook my head, clearing my mind in anticipation for the crescendo that would lead to our eventual reveal. The spotlights would flash on, chasing away the pleasant darkness, presenting us to the crowd. The throng out there would then cheer madly, despite being blinded by the spotlights. It was the same at every show I did.

No deviation.

No changes.

Unsteadily, I strode out into center stage, still under the cover of blackness, the band stepping forward with me, like clock-work. Hastily, I pressed my sunglasses on my snout, covering up my slate gray eyes. I knew the rest of the band was doing likewise behind me, though for a much different reason. They had their shades because I wore them, and nothing more. For me, they dulled the bright colors of the world. The vibrant blue, green, yellow or white colors of ponies were too sunny, too cheerful for me to stand. Their contented faces, smiling and cheering at me only chipped away at my soul, leaving it even emptier than before. I suppose it was a cruel twist of fate that my own coat was one of the brightest shades of pink imaginable and I had to live with the daily reminder of the lighter side of life, knowing full well that I could never live there again.

Behind me, the orchestra became a soft whisper, and stopped altogether. A lone trumpet sang out over the air, filling the empty spaces.

The crowd hushed in anticipation for what was to come next. For a moment, the entire world was steeped in silence and I felt my breath hitch in my chest. Unsteadily, I stood up on my hindlegs, flailing my forelegs out above me. The pose was difficult to hold and not at all natural for a pony body, but I endured it purely because I knew if I didn’t do it, Short would chew me out later.

I shut my eyes, swaying slightly and allowed myself a small smile. Just a small one.

It was then the drums behind me began to pound, the organ blared, the guitarist struck a chord, and our barrage of sound began. The lights surged on, revealing the stage and the band, and the crowd erupted as the concert truly began.

Everything had to look seamless for the crowd. If I was to do this, it was going to be perfect. Nothing out of place. Nothing hidden. They couldn’t see how much was wrong with me. They couldn’t understand. If there was even the tiniest of cracks in my wall, everything would fall apart.

Pyrotechnics erupted around the edge of the stage, momentarily drowning out the crowd’s cheering. Sparks skidded across the floor, alighting around my hooves as the band around me thundered into the opening song, like a sort of musical exodus.

I gazed out over the crowd in those few seconds, looking over the mass of color. The griffons and pegasi flittered about in the air, whopping in delight, weaving around the jets of fireworks in the air. The earth-bound creatures’ reactions were similar, as was to be expected, though they were too tightly packed together to do much moving. My stomach churned at the frivolousness of it all. It was sickening to see their fucking faces, so full of wonderment. These foals wouldn’t be able to handle pain or anguish, not like I had.

It was almost unfair to them, wasn’t it? Having such relaxed lives was almost a sin.

I frowned and fell forward, my front two hooves landing squarely on the wood stage with a thud. I flinched inwardly at the discordant sound and strode forward to the microphone. I sensed a few of my band mates following suit, coming to the front of the stage. The audience was still roaring their approval, not even a minute into the song yet, and not even to the first verse. Pathetic.

I grasped the mic with one hoof, recalling the lyrics in my head. I paused, scanning the crowd from behind my glasses, my eyes hidden from the world. Emotions concealed from the masses. There would always be a division between me and the fans. They would never know the life I led, and I could never hope to know theirs. A chasm separated us, and all they could do was gaze longingly across and hope that they catch a glimpse of what they believed was the good life.

Idiotic fuckers. They didn’t understand anything. So many of these foals wanted to make it big, and I knew that all of them would never achieve their dreams; it was a lost cause. They would struggle through their entire lives just to try and make it into the limelight only to discover none of it was what it cracked up to be.

There were some days my limbs felt heavier than lead, the painful memories were too much and I couldn’t get out of bed. Those days, I would break down, sobbing my eyes out like I was some helpless, senile bastard. I would lay there in my bedroom, hardly moving, even to eat, for the rest of the day wallowing in my self-pity.

None of it was what it cracked up to be.

A flash of pink in the front row caught my eyes. The mare from earlier was not four feet away, staring into me with her large, blue, unwavering eyes, her face split in a wide smile. I flinched away from her gaze and shut my eyes again, drowning out the harsh colors of the crowd of ponies.

Why did these ponies care about me? They only loved me because they liked the music I had produced years ago. If I hadn’t created music, if I never had done anything with myself, if I ended up on the side of the road without a bit to my name, if I ended up going insane, they would never love me like they do now. They wouldn’t even give me the time of day if not for the fact I made it big, and they would go on with their lives and cling to a different star. It was repulsive the way they followed public opinion like a mindless herd of sheep. In my day, we had to make our own way. We had nothing to cling to for hope but our own aspirations.

So why did I care for these fans of mine? Why did I continue to perform for these bastards day after day after day? It wasn’t a question I knew the answer to. What would happen if I just stopped everything, if I stopped the show? What would happen if I showed these ignorant little shits the dark side of life for once? I didn’t care if they couldn’t handle it! These ponies probably haven’t seen an honest day of work in their lives, let alone know anything about the cesspool of a world they really live in.

I could tell them, show them, something that would open their minds and maybe dull their vibrant colors a bit. I could take them down a notch and bring some real misery into their lives. I could strip away their innocence.

But could I?

My gaze drifted to the ground as I silently argued back and forth with myself. My days were filled with concerts, singing, and pandering to a crowd of ponies that went to sleep with their minds at ease and a smile on their muzzles. My nights were restless, and whatever sleep I got was plagued with dreams filled with twisted memories of my past. The ponies in the crowd were a sea of color and joy that flocked to this show to see the dull, faded, lifeless pony they loved perform songs composed before they were even born.

A wave of resentment washed over me. There was no way I could continue to do this. I didn’t care about these fans, I realized with a small amount of satisfaction. I owed nothing to these idiots or anypony else.

There was nothing holding me back from walking offstage right then, but I stopped myself. I still felt as though this audience needed to know something, anything, which would blacken their clean souls. I felt the need to educate them on the subject. It was for their benefit, really, I suppose.

I looked back up at the crowd, at their smiling faces, and felt my anger begin to boil even more. Oh yes, they would hear me out, whether they wanted to or not.

Soon enough, the point in the song where I should have begun singing came and went, and I still was standing there, clasping the microphone. I noticed my band mate's concerned glances in my direction as they began to improvise some music, hoping that I would sing soon and continue the song.

I wasn’t about to.

Truly, I had lost all interest in my music long ago. It had taken me until now to realize it. My soul wasn’t in it any longer, and that realization filled me with both terror and excitement. My entire life was filled with music; it was my special talent, after all. To lose my faith in my calling was frightening, but brought about a certain thrill of rebellion and freedom that most ponies would never experience.

We ponies lived in a society of monotony and compliance, where a pony would do only one job their entire lives, their special talent, the mark of which was obscenely emblazoned on their flanks for all the world to see. A cake cutie mark? You get to be a baker. Oh, you wanted to work in construction for a living? Who would employ a construction worker with a cake for a cutie mark over one with a saw or some nails? When you got down to the semantics of cutie marks, it didn’t make much sense. We lived in a society where a pony’s life was forever determined by a single point in their foalhood, before they even matured. It seemed like we lived free lives, but in reality, we were slaves to our own pre-determined destiny.

I glanced at my own cutie mark of a half-red, half-white record.

Red and white makes pink, I suppose.

I always knew that the record on my flank was for the music I created when I was younger, but why it was split into two colors was mystifying. I had spent many a night since the mark appeared pondering what those colors represented, to little avail.

I suppose it was the split between me and the rest of the world.

I could hear murmurings of confusion break out all throughout the crowd, bringing my attention back to the present. The audience could sense that something was not quite right with the performance, that the lead singer obviously wasn’t performing the song. I could see their multi-colored faces scrunch up in a mix of disappointment and bewilderment as they realized that something in their perfect lives wasn’t going to plan for once. I chuckled at the sight, only to have the microphone broadcast my gruff laugh throughout the stadium.

As my laugh echoed around the stage and audience and into the night above, I smiled a wide and crazy smile. These worthless sacks of shit that dared to call themselves ponies, with their happy demeanors, and bright colors, and guiltless faces ignited a fire in my belly. I hated them with every fiber of my being. I wanted to see their faces as I filled their heads with tales of woes and miseries and sins and made them realize that the cheerful world they lived in was a lie.

I considered it my duty to tell them, to poison their young minds the same way my generation’s was ruined by war. It was the least I could do for them.

This thought coursed through my mind, filling my body with a vigor I hadn’t felt in years. I gazed out over the crowd, my muzzle still split in a wide grin. My band behind me slowly ground to a halt as it became evident that I was not going to be singing. Oh, but by Celestia, I was going to be doing so much more than singing. I would make this crowd realize that everything wasn’t sunshine and friendship in the land of Equestria.

“So, what?!” I bellowed into the microphone, my face distorted in rage, “What, you shitheads thought you’d like to come to this show?!” My voice resonated in the suddenly silent stadium. The crowd had gone mute, shocked into silence by my sudden outburst. Even the rest of the band had completely quieted down, unsure whether or not to go on. I grinned madly as I felt the crowd’s anxiety and confusion start to grow as they realized their night wasn’t going to plan. The emptiness inside my own soul felt a bit fuller as those innocent, clean ponies own souls were beginning to darken.

My eyes were drawn to the pink mare once again. Her unwavering eyes were starting to tremble in confusion as she continued to gaze at my rapidly deteriorating form. I turned my attention back to the rest of the crowd. “So you all want to feel this warm thrill of confusion?!” A hoarse, half-scream, half-laugh escaped my lips. “Ha! You wanted to feel this warm, fuzzy glow?!”

I could only imagine what I looked like to these guiltless minds as I began to prance around the stage, my face twisted in madness. A few of them might even consider me a tad… insane. I laughed at the thought. I think I went insane a long, long time ago. The dam inside my head only chose this moment to finally break open.

I moved closer to the edge of the stage and the front few rows scuttled backwards in fright, nearly crushing those behind them. I could already see the pegasus and griffons taking to the air, leaving the stadium for good. Cowards. Weaklings, the lot of them. They couldn’t even take some unscheduled shouting and degradation.

“Tell me!” I shouted out over the crowd, “is something eluding you, dear sunshines?!” I glanced at the mare again, an almost predatory sneer plastered on my face. She shook visibly as my eyes fell upon her and her frizzy mane quivered with her. “Is this not what you fuckers expected to see?! What, did you expect a show tonight!? Hehhhehehehehhh! That time has long passed, my sunshines!”

I could see the ponies at the very back of the stadium began to dart for the exits, nearly trampling their fellow ponies in the process. It was almost beautiful. I could see and feel their confusion and fear. They couldn’t wrap their tiny little heads around why their idol was yelling at them.

Fight or flight. So they ran, rather than face any sort of difficulty.

I spit into the audience in disgust, showering the front rows and continued yelling, my mannerisms growing even more erratic. “Fuck you all!” I roared as I paced around the edge of the stage. “Fuck all ya! None of you know anything about what it’s like to really live! If you wanna find out what’s behind these cold eyes,” I ripped my glasses off of my face and flung them into the audience, “Then you’ll just have to claw your way through this disguise!”

I reared up on my hind legs, whinnying, and chucked the microphone at the pink earth pony mare in the front row. It hit her snout with a force that sent her staggering backwards into the ponies behind her. I grinned a maniac’s grin and snorted at her pain. She looked at me for a moment, one of her hooves rubbing her rapidly bruising face, her blue eyes growing damp as tears rose to the surface. She glanced around for a means of escaping the area, but there were still ponies packed in around her. They couldn’t even run away properly. It was sad really, this generation.

I felt a hoof on my shoulder and twisted around to find my manager and the rest of the band behind me. Nearly all of them flinched when they saw my expression, when they saw all the pain and suffering etched into my face. Short, my oldest friend, the only one who might understand my pain, cautiously approached me. “Pink…” he began, “Why don’t you calm down a little, alright? This has gone far enough. We can still patch this whole thing up, if you jus’… don’t fuck it up anymore.”

He forced a smile onto his face that faded just as quick as I didn’t respond. He didn’t care about me apparently. I thought he might, but… He just wanted his pay and to downplay whatever bad press this concert would bring. I had hoped he would… But he didn’t care, just like everypony else. He belonged with the other fuckers out in the audience.

I glanced behind him at the other nameless faces that made up my band, all of them looking on in worry. They didn’t care either. Nopony ever cared about me.

Short took a hesitant step forward, reaching out with one of his hooves. “Pink, I-” He paused as three loud knocks echoed around the stage. “Come on Pinky, buddy, it's time to go…” He tried to grab me, but I sidestepped him, a scowl forming on my face. He lunged forward in another attempt to trap me but I leapt away from his reach.

“Fuck you too!” I yelled at him as he continued to try and catch me. “You’re no better than the rest of these bastards!” I gestured at the crowd that still remained in the stadium. I danced around him and shoved him, sending him careening off of the stage.

In my anger, I knocked over one of the many speakers scattered on the stage, sending sparks scattering across the wooden floorboards and a high-pitched feedback whine shooting through the ears of anypony in range. I smiled at the damage I was causing and slammed another speaker into the ground, causing smoke to start spiraling out from its inner workings.

As I turned away, I could hear whatever stagehooves remained shouting in alarm as the speaker burst into flames. I could feel the eyes of everypony in the stadium, my former band mates included, on me as I continued my frenzied breakdown. I dodged another attempt by somepony to subdue me and shunted them to the ground. I heard something snap and a howl of pain broke through the cacophony of noise being produced by the panicky audience members.

I cackled and twirled about the stage, grabbing some poor roadie and spinning him around. “Turn on the lights!” I ordered him, “Let’s set up this show! Haha!” I flung the roadie away from me and rose up on my hindlegs, flailing my forehooves wide. “Get those cameras started up! Roll the sound effects!” I landed back on the stage, evading another effort to stop me. “Aaaaaanndd! Action! Haahahaha!”

I lunged forward suddenly, thrusting myself into the face of the pink mare who was still trapped at the front. For a moment ice blue and dark gray eyes stared at each other, pink fur melded together, and dark brown and bubbly pink manes brushed together.

And then it was broken as she scrambled away, desperately wanting to escape. She tried to force her way through the tightly packed crowd, but to no avail. Not so lucky today. Luck, ha! Luck never occurred in the real world. These ponies in this crowd knew nothing, so it was only customary I told them everything.

“Ha!” I screeched at the crowd, “This is my story, sunshines!"

"This is the story of Pink!”

Author's Note

Based on “In the Flesh?”

Chapter Two: Just a Memory

Chapter Two

Just a Memory

The normally pristine countryside was in ruins.

The area was dying a slow, painful death as the chains of war squeezed the very last drops of life from it. The lush, green grass had withered long ago, leaving a swatch of monotone brown, scarred by battle. Large, majestic trees had been cut down for resources, and, in some areas, burned to the ground, leaving patches of soot and ash where there once was life. The air was thick with smoke and disease, and a sense of death hung over the entire field.

Nothing moved.

There was no noise.

On opposite sides of the battlefield were deep trenches dug into the ground, disfiguring the landscape. Ramparts and barriers were placed around them. Behind both trenches and barricades was a small grouping of tents that had long seen a better time. They were battered and worn by numerous days in service, becoming a temporary monument to what had occured.

In between the trenches was a pock-marked, desolate heath. Large puddles of murky water pooled in the bare dirt. The expanse of brown was occasionally broken up by a few leftover bodies, unclaimed by either side. Coats of white, blue, yellow, green, and black, though soiled by grime and dried blood, created a crude rainbow, offsetting the seriousness of the scene. Their bodies littered the area, their comrades unable to drag them back to camp for burial. They were turned a blind eye to, forgotten by the world. Unknown by their friends and family.

Some of them had been lucky. Some of them had died quick, painless deaths. A spear through the chest. A chop of a sword through the shoulders. A quick, powerful stomp to the ribcage. An explosion from artillery shells that tore their bodies to shreds.

But others were not so fortunate.

Some of the motionless bodies clutched at stumps that once had limbs attached, a look of anguish still on their faces. Others were just a smoldering husk of what used to be flesh, caught aflame in the midst of battle. Some had fallen, legs broken, blindly crawling towards fellow soldiers, hoping for some comfort as they bled out.

Here, the only sound was the buzzing of flies as they alighted on their feast. They were the only ones who cared for the fallen.

In stark contrast, the Equestrian trenches were teeming with life. Stallions dressed in gore stained, rusted armor ran to and fro throughout the camp, like an overturned anthill. The smell of fear permeated the air, overwhelming the death around them.

The trenches themselves were flooded with bilge water, built up over numerous rains. Most everypony had come down with hoof rot, causing many to be unable to walk properly. Monstrous rats, continually eluding capture, ran rampant through the ditches, spreading disease and eating what little provisions were left.

The soldiers themselves were gaunt and bitter, stripped by the horrors of what they had seen. What forces allowed them to live while others in their unit had been killed, ending their lives and dreams? Celestia? That name seemed like the whispers of a good dream. They had no hope anymore. Nothing to live for but their enforced participation in the battle.

Their thoughts and actions had long since degraded into only simple movements. They moved as automatons, sheep, unable to do anything but what they were told. What little free time they had was spent simply resting, for there was naught else to do. Their usually healthy, plump bodies were racked by hunger, reduced to shadows. Their days were blistering and agonizing, and the nights were icy and unforgiving. Both minds and bodies were quickly withering into nothingness.

As the sun disappeared below the horizon, a chill swept the camp. The battered soldiers huddled together around fires, sharing what meager warmth they had, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the next day would end their suffering. For better, or for worse.

Their families seemed like a distant dream. A fantasy they had thought up one day to distract themselves from their life of death and destruction. What was beyond their bleak ditches and battle lines? Some say they remembered a colorful world filled with love.

But that was just a dream.

But even here, in this hub of life, death still managed to seep in. Ponies were stacked irregularly in mounds outside the small shack used as an infirmary. There was no time left for their burials, and nopony had enough heart left to mourn them. It had simply become a part of daily life.

Moans of pain came from the sickbay. The stench of the vomit, blood, and piss of the infirm billowed from the shack, adding to the already miserable atmosphere of the camp. Inside, ponies of all shapes and sizes were packed wall-to-wall in bunks. Several of the beds had three or more ponies to them, all with different injuries. The amount of wounds far outnumbered the skills of the medics and their supplies. This many months into battle, with supplies in such short supply, the only they could do to numb the pain was get their patients drunk.

But, none of the doctors expected anybody to pull through. Once you were injured, there wasn’t any hope. Sure, there were smiles, friendly pats on backs, and promises that they’d try to save you. And maybe for a few days you were hopeful. Maybe fresh supplies would come in and their promises would hold true. But deep down, you know that there was nothing they could do. And as the days pass with no change, and with wounds only getting worse, those lingering hopes are shattered. You gave yourself in to the pain, accepting it, and it becomes your life sentence. Soon after that, the delirium sets in, and the days fly by in a haze, with alcohol as the only relaxation.

Amidst these troubles was a lean, blue pegasus, one of the guards stationed outside the walls surrounding camp, keeping a look out for the enemy. That was his job, his post. To protect the lives of the ponies that were living behind him.

He rested against a beam, his uniform drawn close to his body as defense against the brutal night. His eyes drifted lazily across the horizon, only half-heartedly keeping watch. His thoughts wandered, thinking of home, and the distant memory it was. Thinking of the two pink ponies that he would see once he got home, his wife and son.

But for now, his only company was a bone dry canteen, emptied countless hours ago in the heat of day. His weapon left back in the camp, because he knew he wouldn't need it that day. Blinking drowsily, he shivered and clutched his uniform closer to stave off the cold.

He breathed out, his breath visible in the frigid night. He was so tired. Maybe, he could manage to take just a little nap. No one would know.

Closing his eyes again, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of home, of love. It was perhaps the longest rest he’d gotten since his draft.

The pegasus awoke with a start, seemingly seconds later. Startled, confused, he grasped for a weapon he should've had. Only, his hooves fell on his canteen.

He was wary. What had woken him up, he wasn't sure. There didn't seem to be anything wrong, but still, something seemed off about the night, though what it was, he couldn't place.

The moon was several hours higher in the sky, casting eerie shadows across the already unnerving landscape. Many hours had passed since he was last awake.

Now alert, he scanned the horizon, hastily adjusting his glasses, watching for signs of movement. Guiltily, he thought about his weapon, sitting back in the barracks. Clutching his canteen, he unsteadily stood up, joints creaking and cracking in the cold.

Nothing seemed to be disturbed anywhere out on the field. The enemy wasn’t marching across in attack. Nothing seemed amiss.

But then why had he woken up so suddenly?

Suddenly, he saw it. A plume of smoke rose on the horizon, stretching into the inky black sky. Had a fire started up so late at night?

He did not think so.

It had to be somet—

A thundering boom shook him, the barricades, and the camp. Stars were blotted out as a large shape moved in front of them. A shrill whistle of something flying through the air filled the night. The shape in the sky glinted in the moonlight, revealing its metal outer casing.

The blue stallion’s eyes shot wide open as he realized what was happening.

They were being shelled.

The enemy must've advanced their artillery under the cover of night.

Scrambling, he grabbed his canteen, and dashed back through the battlements towards the camp intent on raising the alarm for those that had not already figured it out for themselves.

Only, that never happened.

Before he made it five steps, the loud shriek of the shell abruptly stopped, blowing apart the ramparts where it landed.

He did not even have time to react as he was shunted forward by the shockwave. A pained scream tore through the night as he laid in a crumpled heap on the ground, most of his bones broken instantly.

And that was the last thing he ever experienced

As a second shell came down in the immediate vicinity, all that remained of the pegasus was his canteen, a torn hat, and a broken, twisted pair of glasses.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

I woke up.

For a brief moment, I was panicked, unsure where I was , or what was happening.

Everything was dark, unidentifiable.

I was in a dark void, surrounded by nothingness on all sides.

I couldn't feel a thing.

No sensation at all.

And a silence.

Nothing moved.

Nothing happened.

There was nothing.

And then I came crashing back down.

I was at home, in my room, in my bed.

For a moment, my heart racing, sweat clinging to my fur, I was still panicked.

My dream was still fresh in my mind.

Everything had seemed so real.

I took a deep breath.

Then, another one.

I clutched at my covers, my eyes warily glancing around my room, alert for anything that might have been there.

But there was nothing, of course.

I was okay.

With trembling motions, I scooted over to the edge of the bed, reached out, and switched on the lamp beside my bed.

As the darkness was chased away, my hurried breathing started to calm down some, and I felt just a little bit safer.

I looked over at my clock. It was only a little past three o'clock in the morning. Moonlight still shone through my window.

I drew in another breath as my thoughts drifted back to my nightmare.

Mom had always tried her best to keep me away from most of the news about the war. Any of the images that made it back were too graphic for me, according to her. She didn't want me to see them, however much I asked her to. I was still too young, she said.

She wouldn't even tell me what had happened to dad. She didn't want me to know.

But now, in school, our teacher had shown us slides from the front, and then talked for almost two full days about the war, explaining and answering any questions we had. She had said that we were old enough to know about it all now, even though Mom said I wasn't.

And I understood now.

The pictures she had shown us were...horrible.

It was gruesome. Several of my classmates didn't even want to look, but our teacher had forced us all to sit through every excruciating detail, regardless of how we felt.

If I had to guess, I didn't quite think I was old enough yet. Even in the few minutes since I had woken up, my heart still refused to stop pounding in my chest, and I was still haunted by what I had seen, still somewhat wary of my surroundings, even with the lights on.

Grunting, I fell backwards, resting my head on the pillow, and stared up at the ceiling, hoping to calm my nerves. I traced the cracks that spider-webbed across the ceiling with my eyes, following each twist and turn. They were familiar to me, these cracks. Many a night I had laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep.

With a sigh, I rubbed my eyes, trying to drive away the last remnants of my dream. The last remnants of how I could only imagine how my dad had died.

But, still it clung to me, playing over and over again in my head. Draining me. Haunting me.

I was so scared, so shaken, yet I didn’t know why.

Shivering, I pulled the twisted mass of blankets tighter to me. My body was drenched in sweat, even more susceptible to the frigid night air. I didn't want to turn off the lights again.

There was a crack starting in the northeast corner of the ceiling running all the way to the middle of the room. Paint flaked around it, creating crude looking shapes. Crude looking shadows. A crack ran from the south west corner to halfway down the east wall, connecting with a crack from a few feet down, flowing down the wall and into the left side of the window I laid beside. The paint around that window peeled as well. A crack ran down from the bottom of it, heading right, before stopping just before the floor.

My eyes drifted around the room for a while longer.

The clock informed that only a few minuted had passed by.

I sighed and shut my eyes tight, hoping that I would just fall back asleep, even with my light still on.

And I waited.

And waited some more.

And sleep did not come.

Groggily, I sat up again. I glanced at the door.

I could always go and sleep with Mom, I knew. All it took was a quick trip out my door, down the hall and stairs, and then a few more steps to her room. I would stand outside her door for a moment, staring at it apprehensively, and then poke it open. Mom would be lying there in bed, sleeping peacefully, and I would wake her up.

I think I had to, if I wanted to get any sleep tonight.

She always helped me fall asleep.

I grit my teeth and got out of bed, mindful not to make too much noise and wake her up too soon. I crossed the room, and my hoof was on the door handle, when something caught my attention.

I stopped, my eyes locking with the small, blue form of Ace, the doll my dad had made for me lying on the floor in the corner. With everything that was on my mind, it seemed like fate that I would notice him. I smiled at him, and picked him up, holding him tightly. He would help me get to sleep too.

I made my way back over to the door and opened it, revealing the dark hallway outside. As quickly and quietly as I could, I bolted down the hall and stairs, leaping down two steps at a time. When I got to the bottom, I nosed open my mom’s door,a s I was holding Ace, and snuck over to the side of her bed.

Her room was dark. Shafts of moonlight shone through the blinds, scattering across the room. A few unknown shapes loomed out of the shadows. Monsters. Creatures, just waiting to strike at me.

Though, for only a moment,I thought that I saw my dad's face among them.

My mom was turned away from me, her body covered by the bed sheets. As quick as I could, I tried to wake her up. “Mom…” I whispered as I shook her gently, “Mom, wake up…”

After a moment, she groaned and turned over, looking for what had awoken her. She blinked a few times and then focused on my face. A slight smile found its way to her lips. “Pink, what’s wrong?” A yawn broke through. “What time is it?”

I held Ace tight to me. “I ha-had a nightmare," I hissed in a weak voice, "C-can I sleep with you?”

She chuckled slightly, and nodded, obviously still half asleep. With another yawn, she pulled back the covers a bit and allowed me to slip under them.

I crawled into the bed, careful not to step on her or anything, and settled down next to her body.

She put an arm around me, pulling me closer to her. I held on to Ace just as much. Already, I was feeling more at ease.

“There,” she said softly, “Better now?” She ran a hoof through my hair.

I smiled at her. “Lots better.”

After a few minutes, we both managed to get back to sleep.

I was happy.

Author's Note

Based on “Another Brick in the Wall (Part 1)”

Chapter Three: Within Inches of Their Lives

Chapter Three

Within Inches of Their Lives

“Mistah Pinkerton! Doodlin’ in class, are we…?” A ruler smacked down hard on my desk. Several of the ponies around me jolted awake at the noise. Quickly, I shuffled my book under some papers, hoping to avoid embarrassment. I looked up at our teacher, a griffon, and grinned sheepishly.

“Sir…?” I put on my most innocent looking expression.

He held his hand out, clearly not fooled and gestured towards the book I’d hidden. “Let’s ‘ave it, laddie.”

I sighed shifted the papers off of my book. It was a small book, a journal really. Bound in black leather and dog-eared with use. Nothing special on its own. But it was its contents I treasured. With a heavy heart I placed my book in his outstretched claw.

Sir’s beak widened in amusement. “Excellent choice, laddie. Now let’s see what we ‘ave ‘ere.”

Sir had been our teacher for the past four years. He was a thinly built, middle-aged griffon. His sparse black and brown feathers had lost much of their sheen they had in younger years. Small, beady eyes stared out from behind the small reading glasses sitting precariously on his beak.

In contrast to the years we knew him, we knew next to nothing about Sir. He hailed from a small, northern territory of Equestria where he grew up in a small village. Many years later, he still spoke in a lilting accent common to the area.

Sir wasn’t even his real name. The day he came in, four years ago, he told us to refer to him as Sir. That was the end of the discussion. That was the end of a lot of things for us. Our individuality. Our freedom. But it was also the start of something for us. That day was the start of our own personal hell, commandeered by Sir.

He demanded perfection from day one. Any deviation from his plans ended in immediate and painful retribution. Many of the students believed he had been in the army before teaching. No one knew for sure, and we never asked, but one thing for certain was that he did not care for us. Over the years he owned many rulers, all of which had forcibly connected with his students. Very rarely did a week pass by when a student wouldn’t come home with bruised wrists or withers.

But over time he became worse, if that was even possible. At first he was just strict, commanding a military-like conduct from us. But then he seemed to grow angrier and more dissatisfied each day. Soon, he began to revel in causing our misfortune. He would go out of his way to hurt us, to crush our hopes. To hurt us anyway he could.

He would pick on each one of us individually, taking our ambitions and crushing them underfoot. Many days he would send most of the fillies into hysterics, as wells as a few of the colts. Our free will was slowly withering away. And the worst part of it was there was nothing we could do about it.

However, his worst came out when the war started. After Equestria found every usable stallion, they turned to the foals. There was a mad rush to produce hard working citizens for the war effort, and of course, we became the unlucky targets. As tension within the nation grew, Sir grew more and more strict. Any sort of artistic or creative thinking was quickly quelled. Talking and laughing were frowned upon. We soon learned to appear to conform to this. We didn't sing. We didn’t draw. We rarely talked. Our school became even more a prison. Its walls barred us inside for ten hours. Our teacher, the solitary guard.

We quickly took any satisfaction we could out of anything we could do to defy Sir. Small acts of rebellion. It was the one thing we could do to alleviate the pain. We drew and wrote vulgar things on our desks and the blackboard. We hid his rulers and anything else he could hit us with. We talked just a bit too loud. And, in my case, I wrote poetry in the middle of class.

Sir skimmed through my little black book, perusing its contents. After the first few pages, his eyes widened. “Poems! Little Pink was writin’ poems everypony!” He held my book high, showing it to the class. Stifled, forced laughter broke out all over the classroom. They knew to laugh, lest he grow even angrier. A few shot me worried glances out of the corners of their eyes. “Mistah Pinkerton fancies ‘imself a poet!” His beak clacked together in a cruel sort of laugh.

“Now, let’s see ‘ere…” He flipped through the book, pages rustling, looking to humiliate me further. He stopped on a page near the end, his eyes lighting up in satisfaction. “Oh ho! Now this ‘ere page looks right nice.” I slunk further in my seat as he continued degrading me. He had no reason to be doing this. He enjoyed this. He enjoyed hurting his students. Physically and mentally.

“Now, this bit’s crossed out, but I think that it serves a good example. So…” His brow knitted in confusion as he attempted to read my chicken scratch writing. Despite myself, I felt just a bit happier knowing he was struggling with my letters. It was a small satisfaction, though.

He continued in his lilting accent. “’So, you think you can tell heaven from hell?’” He peered down at me over his glasses, his beak twisting into a wry smirk. “’Tell’ and hell,’ laddie? Truly, you are ingenious.” Once again, the class broke into another round of laughter. He waited for them to quiet down before continuing. “Now this part looks fresh…” He cleared his throat again, his beak snapping together. “’How I wish, how I wish you were ‘ere. We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl year after year, running over the same old ground. What ‘ave we found? The same old fears. Wish you were ‘ere.”

He snapped my book shut with an almost feral look in his eyes. “Well, Mistah Pinkerton.” He leaned in close to me, plumage tickling my snout. “Missing somepony are we? Hmm?”

He poked my forehead with a talon, trying to incite a remark. Ignoring him, I stared a hole through my desk. I knew if I responded it would only give him more to go off on. I didn't want to give him the pleasure.

But it was true. I longed for my father, the stallion who’ll never be in my life. The emotions were still raw in my mind. Writing about him helped alleviate the pain my heart felt. That poem in particular was the culmination of the past few weeks of work. Sir’s voiced butchered it, stressing the wrong syllables, not to mention his horrid accent. I hated him.

But I still didn’t react to his prompts. We learned to not respond to his goads. Under his scrutiny, we sat obedient and straight-faced. We developed the finest poker faces. Created walls to conceal our true emotions. Any bit of response from us Sir would leap at. He would jab at us, scrabbling for a handhold to latch onto. His abuses were a daily occurrence we all learned to deal with. It took all of our willpower to not crack in front of him.

Outside of school, though, was a different story. That was when the tears began to flow. The younger fillies and colts would sob into the older one’s shoulders looking for comfort they could only find from us. We knew their families couldn’t provide the consolation these foals needed. They didn't have the time, energy or understanding needed. They were caught up in the war. Just as the war changed our schools, it changed the rest of Equestria as well. No longer could you find smiles and laughter on every corner. It sucked the life from this country. The war tore so much of our lives away.

My interest in poetry had started just a few months ago to express my feelings. Feelings over father. Feelings about my school turned prison. I poured my thoughts into my black book during class, silently defying our tormenter. Later in the day, during lunch, I’d stand and read before small groups of my friends. They adored it. They were convinced writing poetry would be my special talent. I wasn’t so sure. I loved it, and the thrill of disobeying Sir, but just poetry never seemed right. Like a certain aspect was missing. It seemed too low-key for my tastes.

But now, today, after months of secretly flouting my disregard for rules, Sir finally caught me. It was to happen eventually, I knew, but that didn't let what was to come fall any easier. Many nights after waking up from my nightmares, I’d lie awake, wondering what would happen when Sir discovered the art I loved so.

Abruptly, the griffon gripped my snout, yanking my face up to look at his. He leaned in closer, his clammy beak brushing against my snout. This was much too close for comfort. Panicking, I tried to break out of his grasp. His grip only tightened, keeping me under his power. I couldn’t see my classmates, so I could only wonder what their reactions were. His sky blue eyes squinted as he spoke. “Now listen ‘ere, laddie. Equestria is at war right now. She doesn’t need any bleedin’ ‘earts and artists. She doesn’t need any free-thinkers and lovers. And she certainly doesn’t need any poets.” He hissed the last words at me. With a grunt, he shoved me away from him.

He twisted around, and began to gear up for a tirade. With a flourish, he turned and began to address the whole class. I glanced around me. My peers were stock still in fright, unwilling to be on the receiving end of Sir’s anger as I was. I couldn’t blame them. Sorely, I rubbed my snout. It felt raw. I winced. I could only visualize what scars Sir’s talons would leave on my face.

But Sir remained oblivious to his student’s fear. He began ranting, growing steadily louder and louder as he vented. The skin beneath his feathers grew livid. “What Equestria needs is doers! We need workers and soldiers! And what we don’t need is you foals.” He paused and gestured at wildly at us. “You foals to grow up thinkin’ you’re special! BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT!”

He stopped and looked at us, and we in turn, continued to watch him. His feathers were ruffled and disheveled more than usual. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. He continued in a much calmer, quieter voice. “This war isn’t gonna be won with lily-livered scholars. We’re gonna win with fighters and ponies to make provisions for said fighters! I can tell you all our enemy is NOT sittin’ back, painting landscapes! They’re-they’re..!” His voice sputtered into silence. When he began again, his voice had dropped to a whisper. “There are rumors they’re forcing young’uns to fight. Younger than you all.”

He paused and turned back towards the board, his voice regaining its usual authority. “We need troops, and you sad bunch o’ miscreants are our future…And it’s my job to teach you all the basics to live.” He hesitated again and cast us all a forlorn glance. A glimpse of sadness crossed his face. “And maybe, just maybe, when we win, you all can live your lives how you want.” He shook his head, and a hint of anger returned to his voice. He turned back towards the board. “But that is not today! And, at present I need-”

His outburst was cut off by a small, dainty giggle.

In a flash, he was facing us again. His brows knitted in annoyance. He dryly chuckled. “Now, who thinks I’m funny?”
The silence in the classroom was overwhelming. Nopony moved a muscle.

“None of you, eh? Not you, lassie?” He pointed a clawed talon at a small, mousy mare who squeaked in fright and shook her head. “No?” A twisted grin grew on his face. “No. Of course not. Well…I guess we’ll just have to find out who then…”

With that, his wings flared out, increasing his already imposing visage. Shadows played across his face. He grinned a smile of someone dangerously close to snapping. Like a predator, he began to stalk up and down the rows eyeing each student looking for the source of the disruption. He tapped his ruler on each desk, watching for a reaction. Each foal sat at attention, unwilling to be mistaken for the troublemaker.

All but me. I was slumped in my chair, watching my desk with such scrutiny, you’d think it was trying to run away. I knew it wasn’t me. I knew he knew it wasn’t me, though I’m sure he’d like it if it was. His walk slowed as he passed me. The clacking of his claws on the wood floor was the only sound in the classroom. I didn't meet his gaze, but I could feel his eyes on me. Watching for any sign of rebellion.

The moment seemed to stretch into several. Neither of us moved. I held my breath, not daring Seemingly satisfied, he continued walking, lightly tapping me on the snout with his ruler. At that instant another snicker came from the far side of the room. From a small unicorn filly with a luscious green colored coat and a glorious flame colored mane.

The filly’s name was Rêves. The object of every young colt’s dreams. At the beginning of the year, she and her family had moved from the distant country of Fançie. Almost immediately, she turned heads as she walked down the hallway. Hearts melted when she smiled. The room always seemed a little brighter with her presence. Many a time, already taken colts were slapped across their faces by their marefriends when their eyes wandered over her figure. Her exotic form was welcome change from the monotony of Equestria’s girls. Not that any of the colts said that out loud, of course.

I can only say I felt the same as well. I, along with every colt in school pined for her like a dog longs for a bone. But I was set apart from the rest because I knew she was far out of my league. I watched as time and time again, she shot down every colt’s attempt for her hoof. Every single one, but me. Because I had never asked.

I knew that she wasn’t fastidious. She didn't see herself as anything special. As anything unique. She simply had no interest in love. And I seemed to be the only one able to see through the haze of lust to see that.

And now she was laughing at my pain. I certainly had no chance with her. My heart sank.

Sir spun around with surprising agility, smirking in triumph. “Oi you!” Rêves’ royal blue eyes widened in realization of her mistake. Her hooves flew to her mouth in attempt to stifle her laugh. That or maybe she intended to choke herself before our professor could punish her. You could almost feel the waves of fear rolling off of her. But Sir interpreted her emotions as an escape attempt. “Yes, you! Sit still, lassie!” With a quiet satisfaction, our teacher rushed over to her, and leaned in close. His grin widened. “Now, missie, what seems to be so funny?” The filly shrunk away, trembling. A small squeak was the only response he got.

“I’m sorry. What was that, lassie?” His voice dropped to one of pure unbridled anger, all pretentions of kindness gone. Fire to match the colors of the Rêves’ hair shone in his eyes. His hand darted out and grasped her hoof before she could flinch away. Another whimper from the unicorn.

Whomp! His other hand came down, wielding the ruler. Whomp!

I snorted in disgust. Who was he to maim such beauty?! I could see the colt’s faces around distort with the same anger.

The aging griffon threw her hoof back at her with a sneer of repulsion. Gingerly, she clutched at the bruised joint, which already seemed to be turning a nasty color. Sir stalked back to the front before turning to us, half screeching. “Now. There. Won’t. Be. Anymore. Interruptions. Will. There?” He punctuated each word with a whack of the ruler.

His voice fell away as I concentrated on Rêves. Right now, I only had eyes for her. I was the reason she was injured. How could I be so stupid as to let Sir smack me like that! If only I had moved, maybe she wouldn’t have laughed at my misfortune. I felt guilty, despite knowing that it truly wasn’t my fault.

I stared at her, my eyes wide. She was still inspecting her injury. Suddenly she glanced up, as if feeling my gaze. My eyes met hers for a split second. Blue and gray watched each other for a moment. Slowly, I mouthed an apology. ‘I’m sorry.’ She smiled back at me, her dainty mouth forming a response. ‘It’s alright, Pink.’ A blush reddened her face. Flustered, we broke eye contact at the same time, both glancing down at our desks. She knew my name! She smiled at me! Maybe I wasn’t so hapless after all!

These feelings and opportunities were the things schools were meant for. The way they oppressed us, belittled us, wasn’t natural. School was supposed to be a place of chance and learning. A place to find your way in life. Students were meant to be encouraged and helped. Hell, half of my classmates, myself included, still have no cutie marks. No place in society. No place in life. Blank-flanks.

But instead, the school system hurt and suppressed us. All we were to them was the next line of faceless drones. They just wanted to create the next productive citizens. They could care less about our needs or hopes. Our wants and dreams. Our teachers were generals, commanding their troops with an iron will. And unfortunately for us, we were their troops, who could only cower as we were ordered about.

It was only inevitable that things would soon come to a boil.

“Mistah Pinkerton! Pay attention, laddie!”

I sat up straighter and tried to look alert. This was going to be a very long day.

But, my eyes just felt so heavy...

~-~-~-~-~-~

The gray, featureless walls of Sir’s home loomed over him as he stood at his front door, fumbling for his keys. Eventually he found them and made to put them in the lock. Keys in the bolt, he froze, wondering what he would find inside. He feared going inside his house nowadays. He shivered and pulled his scarf tighter, shielding himself from the harsh winter chill.

Once upon a time, these walls had been vibrant and full of life. Despite their color, they invited rather than rejected visitors. A light brown cobblestone pathway led up to the brightly painted front door. Windows were once flung wide open, allowing warm summer air to blow through the home. Bright red flowers adorned the sills, contrasting the drab gray of the house itself. On occasion, one could hear the cheerful humming of a female griffon from inside as she went about her daily tasks. During the evenings, the couple that lived in the house could be seen sitting in the front of their yard, watching the world flow by and greeting strangers as they walked by.

The house seemed to emanate a sense of joy that went unmatched in the area. Ponies would often trot by and immediately feel warmer and more contented then moments before. If houses had feelings, this one would undoubtedly be satisfied with its life. As such, the house’s two residents lived just as pleased. Things were at their best for the young twosome.

But time went on, seasons passed and countries changed. And as they did, so did the house. Slowly, barely noticeable at first, the atmosphere around the house grew slightly more despondent. The walls grew more dilapidated, paint peeling away. The front door was no longer bright, instead marred and decrepit. Ivy began to grow up the walls, hiding them from the world. The yard grew wild and free, choking most of the quaint stone path.

As winter set in, the house became unrecognizable from its former appearance. No longer was it welcoming or admired. Instead it became something to ignore. Ponies would walk by without a glance, unwilling to acknowledge it, for they remembered how it was. And so the house became a chilling, saddening shadow of its previously cheerful facade.

This was where Sir stood now, bordering the threshold of the door. It would be so easy to walk away. To not enter this miserable house and the woman he’d find inside. His wife he’d so grown to fear.

Things were different years ago. They were happy. She was happy. There were days when the schoolteacher would come home to her loving and caring arms. Those days were the happiest days of his life. After a long, trying day working with foals, there was nothing better than his wife’s comforting embrace. And some nights, of course, ended much better than normal.

But then the war came, and everything changed. They argued and fought some nights over small, trivial things. These arguments quickly escalated into their own personal war. There were nights, much like this one, where he didn't want to go home. Something had changed between the two of them.

Their clashes only further frayed Sir’s nerves. Most mornings he entered his classroom still brimming with anger at his wife. Despite his efforts, his home life slowly began to seep into his work. He began to snap at his students, arguing with them more. He began to notice how unruly his students were. Enjoying themselves; laughing and playing without a care. What right did they have to be innocent? But soon enough, he managed to control their rambunctious behavior. His classroom was under his control. They would be able to learn again.

Suddenly the door knob twisted in Sir’s hand. The door promptly swung open, revealing the imposing figure of his wife glowering at him.

“What are you doing, skulking around our doorstep!?” She shrieked, grabbing him by the neck and yanking him inside. “What are you doing, out so late? Should’ve been home an hour ago! Dinner is cold, you ignorant brute!”

She scowled at him and dragged him to the table. Candlelight flickered, casting long shadows on the wall. Sir’s wife’s shadow hung dauntingly over his own.

Sir looked down at the food sitting on the table. An unidentifiable mush of various foods. Cold, nonetheless. He glanced at his wife who was seating herself at the table. She caught his wandering glance.

“What?” She pointed to his plate of food. “Eat.” She wagged her finger at the plate. “Eat your food.”

Sir continued to watch her, still not speaking. What was there to say really? The moment that door opened, all of the bravado he had at the school melted away. He put on a mask of dominance in the classroom to provide a figurehead for the young ones. But at home, he knew that wasn’t the case.

The two griffons continued to watch each other, both with differing thoughts on the situation. With a cry of frustration, his wife got up from her chair and set a brisk pace into the kitchen. Sir winced in foresight, knowing what was coming. He sighed and collapsed on the floor, defeated. Tear began to swell in his eyes.

Moments later, the female griffon reentered the room wielding a rolling pin. Her beak twisted into a smile reminiscent of Sir’s during school hours.

She crept up to the huddled form of Sir and raised her arm in preparation to strike.

Whomp!

He smile grew wider as her husband let out a yelp of pain. This was proper punishment. Proper retribution for his wrongs.

WHOMP!

~-~-~-~-~

‘WHOMP!’

The ruler slapped down forcibly on my hooves. My head shot up instantaneously, clearing the last scraps of my daydream from my mind, my hooves throbbing.

“Mistah Pinkerton! Class is for learnin’! Not idle daydreamin’! Pay attention, laddie!”

With another slap of the ruler, Sir turned tail and marched back towards the front of the room.

I looked down at my hooves. A dark blue bruise was already forming where the ruler impacted earlier. Dark bruises of varying intensity mottled my normally pink coat, giving me a sickly look. It was a fashion many of the students in the class sported. Anypony with a dark colored coat had the fortune of the discoloration blending in. But for the lighter colored ones, such as myself, the forehooves were often a vastly different color than the rest of the coat.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to drive away sleep, and turned my attention to Sir. Just the sight of him made me sick. He made all of us sick. I scowled and sunk down in my seat, tracing a circle on my desk with my pencil.

Author's Note

Based on “The Happiest Days of Our Lives”

Chapter Four: Just Another Brick

Chapter Four

Just Another Brick

“He-hey Pinky!”

My head jerked up at the sound of my nickname. One of my friends sat down beside me, his food tray hitting the table with a thud.

“’Ello Short.” I replied, turning to face the aptly named pegasus beside me. “How’d class go?”

My friend chuckled and spooned a glob of pudding from his tray. “You know Miss Beau, Pinky. Same as Sir, jus’ in mule form.” He turned his head, gesturing towards the far side of his face. “The bitch gave me this here shiner for asking how an ass like her managed to get a job.”

The right side of his face was a nasty shade of purple and green. I winced sympathetically. What Shortchange the pegasus lacked in size he certainly made up for with arrogance. Ne’er a day went by when he didn't argue with his teachers. His insolence was a legend around the schoolyard.

I snickered and slapped a hoof on his back. “Short, my friend, you are a downright bastard.”

He shot me a wide grin and shoved a hunk of pudding into his mouth. He chewed it messily; half of it dribbling down his chest.

I snorted. “Smooth, Short. Very attractive. It’s astonishing you don’t got a girl yet.”

He jumped up in mock anger. “’Ey! S’not my fault I ain’t found anypony yet! You know I only got eyes for tha’ babe Rêves!” He nudged me playfully, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Jus’ like every other colt here.”

He sat back down and without waiting for my response, and continued to eat.

For a minute the only sounds I could hear were of him eating and the gentle murmurs of the other schoolfoals around us. After a moment’s hesitation I added. “…except me.”

The tawny pegasus turned to me, head tilted in confusion. He popped the spoon out of his mouth. “But ya do, mate. Ya jus’ haven’t made your moves yet. Only boy here who hasn’t.” He nodded sagely.

I shook my head, forlorn. “Short, she’s not interested in anypony! She’s shot down every colt at this here school! Even the taken ones asked!”

“Yea, but not you, Pinky!”

I looked at him incredulously. “Short, you - I - Would it put your mind at rest if I went over and asked her? Just so you can see she has no interest?”

He bobbed his head. “Yeah. Yeah it would put my mind at rest, as ya so elegantly put it.” he said in a mocking voice.
I punched him on his shoulder for his remark. “Fine. I will.”

I stood up and looked for the stunning green of Rêves’ coat. I spotted her at a nearby table, chatting amicably with a few of her friends. “Fine.” I muttered again, suddenly tense. This would be no big deal. Just ask out the most beautiful filly in all Equestria to prove a point. I looked back at Short, who was watching me intensely. I gulped and nervously smoothed down my school uniform. I breathed out, letting go of my tension. Brushing a hoof through my mane, I began to trot towards her.

As I approached, the fillies at the table giggled once and then went quiet. The mare of my affections sat turned away from me, and didn't notice my approach. Inaudibly, one of her friends, a rather posh looking white unicorn, directed Rêves’ attention towards me. I felt Short’s eyes following my every move.

The forest green unicorn turned and looked at me. As I found myself face-to-face with her, my heart suddenly skipped a beat. I smiled weakly at her. “He – Hello, Rê - Reves…” Well, barely into the conversation, and I’d already butchered her name. I didn’t have high hopes.

She smiled back just as feebly, as if she were nervous as well. “Bonjour, Pink.” Her titivating accent sent shivers down my spine. In fact, just the sight of her made my hair stand on end.

We awkwardly stood like that for a moment, neither meeting the other’s gaze. Eventually I coughed lightly, breaking the tension. “So, err, Rêves… I was wondering if…” I took a deep breath, gathering my wits. “If you’d like to go out with me, sometime?”

I squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment and looked away. I could only imagine the amusement she and her friends would have later at my expense. I wasn’t sure why I was over here. Short’s aggravating shortsightedness caused me to act before thinking, ending me up in this situation. And I was normally the rational one in my group of friends.

Suddenly I felt a hoof gingerly caress my face. Surprised, I flinched away and opened an eye. Rêves’ face was inches from mine. I could clearly see her eyes glistening with tears. She stroked my face again and smiled feebly.

The courtyard went quiet. I could feel the attention of every colt and filly in attendance, and I slowly began feeling crowded by their gazes.

“Oh, Oui, Pink! Yes! Oh, I had thought you would never ask!” Rêves said excitedly. She wrapped me in an embrace, still expressing her happiness.

“Whaa…” My jaw opened in amazement. Had she…?

No, she couldn’t have.

But, she did…

The silence broke. Hushed murmurings broke out from the surrounding tables. I began to sweat and darkness flickered at the edges of my vision. What had she just said? Did she agree!?

Eventually she broke the hug and looked at me worriedly. “Err…Pink? Are you in there?”

“I think he’s shocked, dear. Poor boy wasn’t expecting that, I suppose.” Said another voice, one of her friends.

“Monsieur Pink? Are…are you feeling alright?”

I blinked. Rêves was watching me with a concerned expression. Similar looks were on the faces of her friends.

I spoke. “I… I umm….” I worked my jaw, still trying to convey my thoughts, but no sound came out. I shut my mouth, hoping no one had noticed. I glanced around nervously. Ponies, unicorns, and pegasus alike were watching the two of us with rapt attention. Short was silently egging me on.

I spoke again, but I only managed a foalish whinny. A few ponies snickered. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Well…great then! We’ll, umm, talk after school then?” I hoped that she would agree. It was astounding as it was that she agreed to be my marefriend, but the crowd of onlookers was growing much too much for comfort. What should have been a more or less private moment was quickly becoming a public affair.

She smiled, obviously taking the hint. She looked a tad uneasy herself. “That… That would be nice.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me. “See you then, Pink.” A blush slowly spread across her face as she broke eye contact.

Flustered, I stood there awkwardly. “Yesh…I’ll – I’ll see you then, Rêves.” I echoed.

She gave me one last small smile and turned back to her friends who began whispering fervently to her.

I turned, slightly tripping over my own hoof in the process. A shrill whistle came from somewhere in the courtyard. A blush darkened my already pink coat. I hurriedly rushed back to Short, who immediately swept me up in an embrace.

“Haha! Pinky, m’boy, what’d I tell ya?!” I accepting the hug for a moment before pushing him away. It was uncomfortable to be that close to him. I had always had personal space issues.

I grasped for words to say. My mind was still trying to catch up with events. I had walked up to Rêves without any doubt she would reject me, like all the others. And?

And?

And then she didn’t.

Clumsily, I sat back down, still in shock.

“Well...” I murmured, unsure how to sum up the past few minutes.

“Pinky, ya did it! I tolds ya that ya could do it!”

I…” I moaned. “I can’t believe she said yes…”

Short leaned in, looking worried for a moment. “What’s the matter, Pinky? You do wan’ her, righ’? She is Rêves, after all. I mean, her flank, mate, her flank…

I sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I do. It’s just… I don’t know, Short. I just didn’t expect her to…” I trailed off, still at odds with the situation.

‘Man, what I’d do ta’ just cop a feel of her flank.” Short scooped another bite of pudding. “You’re one lucky colt, mate.

I opened my mouth to respond but was cut short by a croaky shout resonating through the courtyard. For the second time that day, the courtyard became deathly quiet.

“Oi you!”

Short stopped short, spoon dangling from his mouth.

The next thing I knew, a ruler cuffed him square between his ears, the impact only slightly softened by Short’s nest of hair.

We both turned simultaneously to see the hulking figure of Sir, clutching his cane. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight, though not in a good way. On the outside, my eyes widened in dread, expressing fear at the situation. Yet, inside I smiled slightly to myself. It was always fun to see Short in action. Especially against Sir.

The griffon scowled at me and turned to Short. “And just what do you think you’re doing, laddie?”

The aggressive pegasus looked unflinchingly into Sir’s eyes. Neither of them blinked. The courtyard grew to a standstill as the other students watched the three of us.

“Why, Sir, I’m merely eating some of this school’s, scrumptious pudding!” Short’s eyes narrowed, defiant. Very slowly, so Sir could easily see him, he deliberately took another bit of pudding. “This is lunch break, after all. Aren’t we supposed to be eatin' our food?”

As he spoke, some half-eaten slop flew from his mouth, landing squarely on Sir’s beak. None of us moved for a moment. Sir’s eye twitched in anger. With controlled deliberation, the griffon wiped the pudding from his beak. He smiled at the both of us.

Sir leaned in closer to Short and continued the banter. “Ay, laddie, it is lunch break. But you know, as well as I do, that before you can have any pudding, you have to eat you meat.” He paused and continued in a half growl. “And we both know you haven’t had any meat yet, have you, laddie?” He poked a talon at Short’s chest, setting him off balance.

Short’s eyes widened in bewilderment, finally breaking their stare down. Whatever the pegasus had anticipated Sir to say, it obviously wasn’t that. He sputtered something unintelligible, tripping over his own words. “Well, Sir… Umm… crap…”

It seemed not even Short could stand up to our teachers all the time, despite his bravado.

After a moment, Sir chuckled. Around him, a few of the other student began to laugh as well, albeit nervously.

“Well, laddie? What’ll it be then? ‘Ow can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat?”

A silent threat was veiled within that sentence. Sir was not to be tried today, and Short caught it. He looked at Sir and nodded solemnly, obviously defeated. “Here, Sir.” He handed my teacher his food tray.

Sir smirked in triumph and snatched the tray away. Short looked up at Sir, silent malice in his eyes.

But Sir ignored him and instead turned to me. He wagged a finger in my face threateningly. “Now, I saw that little exchange between you and Miss Fançie over there, laddie. Now, I absolutely ‘ate it, and though I can’t forcibly keep you two apart off school grounds, on school grounds is a different story.” His next sentence dripped with venom. “And if I catch you and ‘er making goo-goo eyes at each other, there will be retribution, you ‘ear? Painful retribution.” he hissed.

A knot formed in my throat. I gulped. “Ye – Yes, Sir.”

He grinned. “Good boy, laddie.”

With that, he turned tail and loped back inside the school building, cane swinging.

I let out a breath I didn't know I’d been holding. I glanced at Short, who was staring, downcast, at the table.

“Hey Short, you okay?” I asked in a concerned voice.

“Yesh. Jus’ need some time to think, ya know?”

I patted him on the back. “You were right to back dow-”

He swiped my hoof away. “Aw, shu’ up Pinky!”

“I’m just saying that-” I started again.

“Hey!” my pegasus friend half shouted. “I know when to pick my battles, Pinky!” He huffed and laid his head on the table with a groan. “Jus’ wasn’t feelin’ it today…”

I didn’t push the matter any farther. He was noticeably distressed by his argument. It was a rare occurrence that he ever was shot down, let alone that quickly. This school has been getting even to the best of us.

We sat in silence for a moment, the previous enthusiasm over my new marefriend temporarily forgotten. Sir’s veiled threats sucked the joy out of our meal, leaving an awkward silence between the two of us.

With Short left to his own devices, my thoughts turned towards this school.

Lunchtime was a relatively safe time for us. A short reprieve between our long hours of torture. The teachers generally left us alone to our own devices. We had a mutual, unspoken agreement between us: We didn’t cause any trouble, and they wouldn’t punish us.

But even then, there were still the times when they came out like dogs among sheep, sniffing out any offenders. This was a favorite activity of Sir’s. He came out more often than any of the other teachers put together, just waiting for us to make a wrong move. He reveled in our misery.

And now, only to further my problems, I had a forbidden, in Sir’s eyes at least, affair with Rêves. Not to mention the anger the other colts would direct at me once they heard that their long sought after mare was swept head over hooves. I sighed and held my head in my hooves. Why must my life be so bloody complicated?

This school was draining the heart from me. From all of us. Slowly, over the years, it killed us, our individuality, in order to create a single cast of citizens.

Sometimes all I could do was visualize a sledge hammer destroying these forbidding walls. Running rampant through the halls, setting ablaze the woodwork and watching as the building slowly crumbled.

A hoof tugged on my shoulder, breaking my train of thought. “Pikerton?”

I glanced down at the source of the voice. A small, wiry built red unicorn looked back at me.
“Hey, Ox. What you want?” I answered, glumly.

Ox Thunderhooves was one of my first friends. A very well-thought-of, quiet colt, in private at least. Still called me Pinkerton, despite many previous protests. He grew up sheltered and proper, taught to be a respectable stallion. However, in spite of life’s attempts to beat it out of him, he never managed to quite get it out of his system when interacting with anyone on a personal level. But, somehow, when he got in front of a crowd, he was an inexhaustible ball of energy and vitality. He outshone anypony else with his wild, crazy antics. Near impossible to calm him down once he got going.

His cutie mark was a bass guitar, something he excelled at playing, obviously. But also something that earned him much abuse from our teachers. Music was a taboo subject in school. Creativity in general was frowned upon.

“I’s just wondering if you ever finished that poem. ‘Bout your father?” He continued.

His question hit me like a ton of bricks. It’s amazing how a few simple words could affect one as much as they did. But, alas, they did, and memories and feelings I fought to keep down during school hours flooded my mind like a burst dam. I clenched my eyes shut, trying to block the thoughts. Father… “Sir…”

A red hoof waved itself in front of my vision. “What’s that, Pink?” Ox was watching me, concerned. “You’re lookin’ distant again…”

I shook myself. This wasn’t the time for grieving. I had to push through. Methodically, I shut my memories behind the mental barrier I had for them, closing them from my mind. I smiled in what I hoped was a cheerful manner. “Sir.” I clarified. “Sir took it a few days ago. Caught me writing in class.”

The maroon bassist’s eyes narrowed in sympathy. “Ah. Well that’s a shame, for sure.” His face darkened in grief for a moment, but then reverted to normal. “I rather liked your poems, Pink. Only thing I enjoyed ‘bout this, ‘scuse my language, vile school. And hey, ‘grats on Rêves, Pink. On behalf of all the colts here, you did somethin’ we never could. If I had a hat, I’d tip it to you.”

I chuckled. “Always the gentlecolt, Ox. And thank you, and the others, too...” I ruffled his mane. “But, yes. The sad thing is that the poem was almost done too… Shame, really….”

We lapsed into silence again. I fiddled with my school issue tweed jacket, trying to get it to lie flat. The thing was scratchy as hell, and it was gray. How more unexciting and analogous could you get? I had always preferred pink over ever other color, though I suppose I was biased. With a small cough, the bassist unicorn’s eyes focused on the sullen pegasus behind me. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Sir.” I repeated once more.

Ox nodded solemnly in understanding. “Right. The devil himself.”

I smiled half-heartedly at his humor. Beside me, Short spoke up, finally stirring from his gloom. “’Ey, Thunder, how’s your pet spider doin’? Wha’s his name, again?”

Ox grinned excitedly. “His name’s Boris, Mis’ser. Boris the spider. An’ he’s doin’ really well. ‘Ee’s almost big as my head now,” he finished proudly.

Short responded with an equally interested smirk. “Really now? How long you reckon before you can bring him in? I got a plan tha’ involves him and Pink’s bastard of a teacher.”

I looked at him, surprised. Short could be ruthless, yes, but even he had a stopping point. Most of the time. “You realize that could get you expelled, right Short?”

He leaned back and closed his eyes. “Hell if I care, Pinky. Nigh time to blow this damned prison, if I’m sure. This little soiree we jus’ had with the griffon broke my camel’s back. ” He opened one eye, which regarded me warily. “You gettin’ me, Pinky? Entwistle?”

Ox and I looked at each other, eyebrows raised. I gingerly prodded forward in the conversation. “I- We’re not sure we follow…”

Both of Short’s eyes snapped open and he fell forward in his chair. He clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk, boys. I thought’ you smarter than tha’.” He regarded us with a look eerily similar to Sir on a bad day. “Wha’ I’m sayin’ is that I’m thinkin’ is tha’ we, as in all the school, need to…appropriate this here hellhole into somethin’ more favorable.”

“What…?.” I muttered. Evidently, Short’s stopping point had been broken.

Ox pursed his lips, obviously still trying to grasp the meaning behind Short’s words. He wasn’t the brightest of colts. Too much blunt head trauma and loud explosions.

Short caught his confusion and explained in simpler terms. “A revolution, Thunder. A riot, if you will.”

The red unicorn’s ears perked up and he nodded vigorously. “Alright, mis’ser Short. That sounds right agreeable!”

“Full-scale riot, Short? Really?” I asked.

The diminutive pegasus regarded me with a slight, disapproving shake of his head. “You always were the conservative one, Pinky. You tellin’ me you haven’t felt the tension in here? All we’d need is to organize things a bit.” He paused, giving me time to think. “I mean, there’s a staff of, wha’, six? Against hundreds of angry adolescences ready to tear the place down?” His voice dropped an octave, to one that matched the somber subject matter. “They wouldn’t stand a chance, Pinky.”

I gulped and nickered nervously.

What he said was true, of course. And in all honesty, I had entertained the notion a few times. To demolish the school. But to actually do it… To actually revolt against our teachers. Against our guards. To break free of the prison we’d lived in so long.

Was that worth it?

Could we truly fright for our freedom, against the tyranny of oppressiveness? It was a pleasant concept.

But could we succeed?

I looked back at Short, who was still watching me with the same apprehensive expression. Tensely, I nodded in agreement.

Short sneered. “Then it’s high time for a change here.” He chuckled darkly. “We don’t need no education. Not like this.” He jumped up, fluttering to an elevation a few feet above. With the fervor of a pony twice his age, he shouted to the group of students eating lunch. “And we don’t need no fuckin’ thought control, either!” He pumped his hoof in the air, waving it about.

A sign of rebellion.

They watched for a moment, unsure what to make of him. Then one colt, in the far corner of the courtyard threw down his lunch and shouted back in agreement. Then, one after the other, the rest of the schoolfoals did the same.

As one voice, they shouted their disproval. In unison, they got up and marched towards us. Systematically, and as one, they stood, rapt in attention as Short began to vent his frustrations.

At that moment, as we gathered together in one common thought, the school system succeeded in its endeavors in a way. Though united by hatred and revolution, we had become a homogenous, single populace. Our school formed what it sought to create, and we marched right into it, like the good little soldiers we were. Despite our destructive intentions, we lost the last vestiges of our individuality at that moment.

In that way, we lost our battle the moment we truly began it. It was a lost cause, I knew. But did that stop me or them from going through with it? Hell no, it didn’t. We became a collective mass that sought to break free of the tyranny of our guards. It became us against them.

And now, who knows which is which and who is who?

“Saddle up, mates! We need to ge’ this riot under way!” Short hollered. Cries of agreement rang out around the courtyard.

Somewhere, deep in my mind, I knew this wasn’t going to end well in the long run. But the rest of me let Short’s infectious speech seep in, filling my body with more disgust and hatred than I thought possible.
These teachers wouldn’t harm another student again.

~-~-~-~-~

Our school was in ruin.

It took a long while, but eventually the school cracked and buckled under our weight. Its wooden guts were set aflame. The building quickly burned, destroying the interior, the desks, the walls, the supplies, the lights, with red and white hot flames. Pink tinged fire licked the word hungrily, energetically consuming it.

What was left of the inside was a blackened husk of brick and mortar, precariously held together. Flames still danced and flickered inside, lighting up the quickly approaching dusk.

The students of the once oppressive school milled about in the yard, chatting good-humoredly and watching the building flail with grins of satisfaction. It wasn’t as though we hadn’t a care in the world, oh no. We knew that we had little time before the authorities began to arrive, investigating the rapidly rising pillar of smoke stretching from the school.

No doubt the teachers and staff had run to the police when they escaped. But how long would it take them to convince the policeponies that everything was on fire? In the beginning moments of confusion, they tried to corral us into lines, but quickly lost their footings. What could they do against a tide?

And so they did the one thing left for them to do: Retreat. Abandoning their duties and posts, they ran from the flaming, wrecked school and most likely hoped to Celestia we wouldn’t follow them. It was satisfying knowing they were scared witless. But they would be back, I was sure.

And the building continued to spark and hiss, dying in a painfully slow way, burning.We rushed out like ants and stood in the courtyard, watching, the flames reflecting in our eyes. Our cage had burst open and the birds taken flight.

This is where we now were. The day was rapidly drawing to a close, the horizon turning a deep orange as the sun sunk further down. On the opposite side of the sky, the moon steadily rising higher and higher, bringing on the night.

I stood apart from the other students, my mind in turmoil about what to make of the days proceedings. Part of me reveled in it, enjoying the vengeance brought to one part of my life that troubled me so long. But the other half was truly and exceedingly terrified about our actions.

What we did was unforgivable, wasn’t it? Even though we were tortured day after day, did that justify razing an entire building? With the excitement we were swept up in slowly fading, I wondered about the ramifications of our actions. How would our royal guard punish us? An actual jail? Community service? Public execution? I didn’t trust the government to react appropriately to this situation any more than I knew I could sprout wings and fly.

Truthfully, I didn’t know. Would they even harm us, or are they too caught up in their war to worry about petty matters back home? And that feeling of uncertainty horrified me. That sense of hopelessness, as the thing you’re comfortable with are ripped away, leaving you dangling for a way back to normalcy.

But beyond that, our actions themselves scared me as well. The way we carried out these acts of destruction and violence, as if engaged in an actual war was something I never wanted to experience for real. War scared me stiff. It was the place where ponies died. Nopony returned from it. Not fully.

War was a monster. An abominable, slavering, ravenous monster that only chewed and spit out the soldiers that marched dutifully into its waiting jaws. And the ones that managed to escape its wrath were never the same. I could see them around town with their wheelchairs and crutches. They were missing limbs, occasionally several at a time. But more than that, they were missing parts of their souls. They left their innocence on the war field, where it continued to stay, despite their return. I could never stand living like that, even though my school day was comparable to it.

Ponies, griffons, and the other intelligent creatures of Equestria, in a way, are cursed. They are the only races that willingly enter into war, knowing full well the consequences of it. Dumber beasts have it much easier. Aside from the occasional spat over territory, food or mates, they lived in harmony. Lived in peace, lest some outside force disrupted them.

Is that what made us intelligent? Our capacity for hatred? Our capacity for war? For rebellion? Would a race be considered advanced if it never fought with anything else? Rabbits, turtles, dogs, and timberwolves: All considered unintelligent. Yet they live and work together in small communities. They build shelters and forage for food. They communicate on the most basic of levels.

But if those creatures suddenly began to battle in structured method, two opposing sides against one another, would we regard them as intelligent? For isn’t that the true mark of intelligence?

Isn’t that what defines us?

Amidst these turbulent thoughts, another view of my condition crept up. What would mother think? I didn’t want to let her down. I loved her more dearly than anything else in all of Equestria. The past years had been hard on her. She still missed father, I think. I think she saw a bit of him in me, as well.

When she found out her baby boy got caught up in a revolution, albeit a small one, she wouldn’t let me out of her sight. She already loved me beyond what was expected. And I loved her the same. Her loving embrace was comforting, and at times, I almost missed it. Mother was the only pony I truly depended on in my life.

I glanced around for Short and Ox, hoping to escape from thoughts. They were hard to pick out amongst the different hues of all the other former students standing around. In the gloom, all the bright, vibrant colors were darkened, as if stained by the very soot that pervaded the air. Mt friends blended in with the other hundreds of colors in the courtyard. The flickering firelight only hindered my search, casting wavy shadows across the gathered crowd.

Eventually, I just gave up. It appeared as though I’d have to talk to them later.

I turned my attention back to the school itself. Or, rather, what was left of it. The bricks that once choked us lay haphazardly in the streets. These blocks that once made up our prison were ripped down, cast out into the night. Each brick sat one on top of the other, creating an almost crude wall from the rubble. It seemed that, even now, that the school lay in ruin, its bricks still strived to create barriers in an endeavor of corrupt assistance.

These bricks were identical to the casual observer. Each was just another brick in the wall. Yet, on closer inspection, each was chipped and cracked in a different way. Each one had come from the same mold, but their lives wore them out differently. Each had a different experience. A different pain.

As I watched, a section of the roof came loose, succumbing to gravity. My eyes followed its downward descent to the floor. Each clatter, bang and clash of shingles on concrete. The rooftop eventually came to a rest on the pavement just a few feet away with a mighty shatter. My classmates jumped in surprise. I blinked, expecting the noise.

The bricks around the impact site were unmoved.

A strong wind blew through the courtyard, tousling my mane. Shivering, I drew my jacket tighter. A few schoolmates did the same. A few more shingles fell from the roof, accompanied by a shrill creaking sound. It seemed to fill the stagnant, cool night air. The sound grew louder with each moment. A few students looked around for the source, but found nothing that explained it. Cautiously, I took a step back, as did the rest of us.

And the moment we did, with a creak, the westward facing wall collapsed inwards, scattering debris everywhere. A plume of dust billowed out from the school, blanketing the courtyard. A few foals violently coughed, hacking into the air. The fires burning inside the building were snuffed out by the wreckage.

Immediately, the area was smothered in darkness. With no more fire, we only had the faint moonlight as it barely filtered through the cloud of dust that hung over us for light. I could barely make out the ponies around me through the murky air. Our previous bluster was beginning to fade.

For a few moments, we stood in silence. The bricks from the collapsed wall slowly clattered to a halt. With a last clack, the night was silent. All was still. We were happy.

But even then, we knew it would be short-lived before the worse times would start up again. For, soon, the policeponies would arrive and a new stage of grief would begin. We would be separated and moved around. New lives in different schools would begin. Possibly good, possibly not. But all that evil we lived through would lead to another shining and glorious good time, we knew.

I finally caught a glimpse of Short and Ox. They were side by side, hooves around the other’s shoulder caroling happily some other the other students. It was merely friendly gesture, I knew. Put into a drunken stupor by the proceedings around them. This was a joyful time, after all. I saw Rêves and caught her eye. She smiled at me, but continued talking with her friends. I grinned back, knowing that our relationship wouldn’t be as bad as I thought earlier.

Some time passed, and before long all the excited chatter died out, leaving the courtyard just as empty as it had been before. The cloud of dust from the falling wall had long since dissipated, though the fires still were out. By now, the moon had rose high above the skyline, bringing with it a blanket of stars. I stared up into the sky in wonder. Stargazing was not something I was known to do, but it the heat of the moment, it seemed right. I smiled slightly to myself. All our parents would kill us when we got home so late. And then there was the matter of teh school burning down.

At that moment, a worrying groan filled the night, much louder than the one before it. The sound set my teeth on edge. And then, the exterior wall directly in front of us began to shudder. The wall tottered for a moment, as if unsure, and then began to plunge towards us.

Time seemed to slow. I watched as my schoolmate’s faces turned from one of ecstasy to pure terror. A few hesitated at first, but eventually, they all turned and careened from the collapsing wall, shouting curses to the heavens above. Without a moment’s indecision, I galloped with them.

The bricks fell to the ground, coming to a halt not a few feet from us, landing with a loud thump. One colt, a small pipsqueak, barely six years old, barely reached safety in time.

The bricks settled, clattering off of the newly formed rubble pile. One remarkably undamaged brick fell off of the pile and rolled along the cobblestone path.

It came to a stop at my hooves. I stared at it for a moment, still alarmed from the mad scramble away from the destruction. I took a few deep gasps, trying to steady my nerves. The peacefulness of the night had fallen away. The spell shattered, alongside the school’s wall.

Still shaking, I bent down a grasped the brick in my teeth. I wasn't sure why, but I felt as if something needed to be done. It tasted like you would expect a brick to taste like. Dirt, concrete and dust. I hefted it up and spat it into my hoof. I held it for a moment, weighing it.

I glanced over my shoulders at my classmates who were watching me apprehensively, still breathing heavily from their near death experience. My eyes connected with the blue of Rêves’. I smiled and turned back toward the ruins of our school. Our former prison.

With a grunt, I drew my hoof back and flung the brick through the air.

Author's Note

Based on “Another Brick In the Wall (Part Two)”

[youtube=https://youtu.be/YR5ApYxkU-U?t=2m21s]

Chapter Five: Cozy and Warm

Chapter Five

Cozy and Warm

I sighed.

It seemed like sleeping was once again not part of this night’s agenda.

Over the few intervening years, sleep gradually came easier and easier until most every night I slept undisturbed by any nightmares. Slowly, my turbulent thoughts had died down, allowing me peace and quiet. My last nightmares had been well over two months ago.

But there were still nights where my mind refused to rest. Nights like this, where moonlight cast flickering shadows across my cracked ceiling. Eerily familiar faces and shapes leered at me from the darkness. And despite myself, I could never seem to fall asleep in my unfriendly and secluded bed. My mind created horrifying monsters and creatures hanging just out of my sight.

I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to block out the visions, but it was no use. My imaginative fears had begun to worm their way into my mind, filling it with a sense of dread. I knew that these late night terrors were nothing more than a product of hyperactive imagination, but that didn't stop them from being so terrifying.

Silently, I threw my covers off, hurling them to the floor. I sat up and scooted to the edge of my bed. My heart was racing, imagining each shadow to be another fear. Another Sir. My father’s untimely death.

I teetered on the edge of my bed, deciding whether or not to go downstairs. Then, an unearthly moan came from my bedroom walls. I stopped breathing, my heart beating faster. It was…just the pipes in the walls…right?

Finally, the sound faded away, and with it, I jumped up and flung open my door. Whether creaky pipes or not, I couldn’t stand to be in my room any longer. Briskly, I trotted down the hall and stepped gingerly onto the stairs. They squeaked in protest. I flinched, and continued on with lighter hoofsteps.

After twenty-two steps, I reached the bottom. Tentatively, I leapt off the second step, landing with a soft whump on the floorboards below. Immediately, I scurried forward to the safety of mother’s room. The one place where I knew nothing could harm me.

Approaching her door, I slowed my breathing. It was no use waking her up. Quietly, I nudged her door open and peered in. A thin beam of moonlight illuminated mother’s snoring face. I smiled. She always looked so peaceful while sleeping.

Confident she was asleep, I opened the door all the way and crept inside. I turned and pushed the door almost all the way closed, leaving it partway open.

I trotted up to her bed and moved the covers aside. Grinning softly to myself, I slipped into mother’s bed and pulled the covers back up. I wiggled closer to mother and snuggled into her embrace.

I closed my eyes, my mind finally at rest. Mother’s presence kept away my dark thoughts, leaving my imaginative mind at rest. I loved her, and she loved me, and nothing would change that, even as I grew older. Right?

With a sigh, I gradually drifted off to sleep, leaving the waking world with mother by my side.

~-~-~-~-~-~

I sang for her.

I had worked for weeks on this new song. All of my heart and soul was poured into, with the hope it would become something comparable to my spur of the moment song after the school riot. I had hopes, dreams, that one of my songs would propel me forward to stardom. This song would do it. This song would make me famous. But first, I wanted to get mother’s opinion.

Since the riot at school, I realized what was missing from my poems. Music. Melody. Fame. The emptiness I had felt slowly filled up with the passion I developed for my music. Though, occasionally, I still felt empty…

Mother spoke up. “Oh…sunshine…” She smiled warmly, in attempt to alleviate her reproachful words. “It…I… I’m not sure that it’s good enough, Pink.”

“So…” I trailed off, slightly disappointed. “You... You don’t think they’ll like the song?”

Her smile wavered. “Oh, no Pink…it’s not that… It’s just…” She broke off, and took a deep breath.
“Pink, I… I don’t want you to do this anymore.”

I gaped at her in disbelief. My mouth hung loose in shock. “Wha… W-Why not?” I managed to ask.

She looked at me sternly. I shrunk back from her gaze. “Because, Pink, it’s just not a good lifestyle. Musicians aren’t… respectable.” She finished, nodding her head with authority, as if that explanation was enough.

I wilted. Not respectable? But… It was so much fun…

I responded. “But-“

“No buts, mister.” She cut in. “I don’t want you getting hurt out there. The world is a horrible, horrible place. I don’t want my baby to have a life like that… ” She sighed and moved over to me and laid a forehoof across my back. “I mean… It’s not your special talent, Pink…”

I nodded silently and twisted around to stare at my still blank flank. Despite my love of songwriting, I still hadn’t found my cutie mark. My flank was still a pristine pink.

I whined and turned back to mother. “Y- yes mother… I’ll stop… writing.” My eyes began to water as I realized that her ruling would mean the end of what I loved to do. But mother knew best, right?

She patted my head, seemingly satisfied. “Alright, sunshine. I know you will.” She hugged me again and walked into the kitchen, humming to herself. “Love you!” she called back to me as she left.

I, however, collapsed to the floor, suddenly light-headed. Give up my love of music? Give up songwriting? Even give up poetry? I couldn’t do that. I brought me so much joy, despite whatever shortcomings mother thought it would bring with it. I needed it. I needed the sense of fulfillment it brought.

I didn’t care about the respectability of musicians. So what if the music world was the seedy underbelly of society? This gave me something to strive for. It gave me something to live for. I yearned to be famous and have my songs heard all around Equestria. Sure, there have been snags along the way, with my age and inexperience, but that was all trivial as long as mother was there to support me.

And now she refused me the one freedom I had left? To crush my one desire? Never before in my life had mother refused me something I wanted so much. To prevent me from climbing into fame and possibly discovering my purpose in life.

True, my songwriting had never gotten me my cutie mark, but why should our lives be commandeered by a mere insignia on our flanks? What right did that have to control what you do in your life? It was demoralizing, really.

Mother was scared, I realized. Scared to let me go and live a life without her. Scared for my safety and health out in the world beyond. But I was scared as well. I was terrified to leave mother behind and aim for my dreams. I knew next to nothing about how to survive in the real world.

Her little colt was growing up, and it was all she could do to drag me down back to the foal she missed so much. And was it bad that I almost wanted that as well?

But to stamp out my songwriting? To kill off my dreams? That was the one thing her and I ever disagreed on during my brief life. I knew right then and there, that I could not simply stop composing. It was the one thing in all of Equestria that I truthfully loved to do. Despite her fears that I would get trampled in the music industry, I knew I had to do it anyways.

I would take small, hesitant steps first. Just testing out the water before leaping in. I would be careful, not to let myself be swallowed up, as mother feared. But, by Celestia, I would live.

I would soar, with or without mother’s consent.

~-~-~-~-~-~

“No, dearie. Pink isn’t here right now, I’m afraid.” A pause. “In fact, he told me to tell you he never wanted to see you again.” The sweet, sugary voice of mother permeated the thin floor of my room. “I’d assume he means that he’s breaking up with you. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, dearie.”

I flopped over, and pressed a pillow over my ears, trying to block out the conversation downstairs. Rêves had decided to come over this afternoon for the second time in over a month. Since the riot, we had not seen very much of each other; both of us going to different schools. But we had tried to meet up occasionally, at the park, or anywhere outside our houses. Away from mother.

That was, until she came over a few nights ago before I took her out to dinner. When I hesitantly introduced the two of them, my fears about mother’s reaction were confirmed. Instantly, mother took an instant dislike to the green filly, and though she seemed cordial enough when we left, she waited up all night until I gotten home to confront me. The moment I walked in our front door after dropping Rêves off at her house, mother leapt from the shadows and berated my choice in mares, calling her ‘dirty,’ ‘corrupting’ and ‘evil.’

Basing her assumptions on nothing but pure first-impressions and looks, mother forbade me to ever see the filly of my dreams ever again. And I begrudgingly agreed. Because, after all, mother said so. Despite our brief disagreement over my songwriting, which secretly ended well for me, I still trusted mother. And mother most likely knew better than I could.

And now a few days later, this is where we were. With Rêves coming over, mother locked me upstairs and took to action, spinning lies about how I wanted to break up. I cringed at mother’s deceit as the two mares downstairs talked to each other.
Well, more of a one sided conversation. The moment mother told the green unicorn how ‘I wanted to break up with her’, a lengthy, pregnant silence followed. Then, a small sniffle drifted upstairs, followed by a choked reply. “A- Alright, Miss… Than-nk you…”

“I’m sorry, dearie. Really am.” Another lie.

Then, I heard the door click shut. I pressed the pillows closer to my ears, attempting to block out Rêves’ distressed yelps I could hear from outside. Curse these thin walls! If things like this were to happen more often, I might just have to build a better, thicker wall so I would not have to hear any more pain.

With a groan, I rolled off my bed and peeked out my window. My ‘former’ marefriend was standing just outside my door, a stream of tears running down her face. Every few seconds, she hiccupped, bring forth a fresh wave of tears.

I cursed under my breath. This wasn’t right. I never wanted to hurt Rêves like this. I watched her as she continued to sob on our doorstep. A few pedestrians shot her questioning glances as they trotted by, but said nothing. My eyes narrowed in determination. Coming to a conclusion, I clumsily began to undo the latch on my window. She didn’t deserve this pain. I needed to talk to her, to tell her mother was lying.

But before I could lift the window up, my doorknob rattled. Alarmed, I twirled around, hiding the undone window latch behind my back. With a creak, the door swung open and mother walked into the room, smiling sadly, barely hiding her triumphant smirk.

“Pink,” she said, “Pink. Are you alright?” She shuffled over to me and guided me over to my bed, driving me to sit down on the edge.

I looked up to her, my lower lip quivering. Things were not alright. My own mother forced me apart from my marefriend on a whim. Nothing about this should be right. I trusted mother’s judgment, but I still could not agree with her.

But I did not voice these thoughts. In fact, I barely reacted to mother’s questioning. I merely stared at her, unblinking and wild eyed. No doubt she could see the confusion I felt mulling around inside me. No doubt she knew how I felt.

“Oh sunshine…” She crooned. “Don’t be sad. I’m only doing what’s best for you… For us.” A rather wet sounding cough racked her body. After a moment, her tremor subdued and she grinned and put a hoof under my chin. “I’m just afraid that she’ll rip my little colt apart. I just don’t think you should see her anymore. She’ll only taint you with her vile ways. Trust me, Pink.”

I looked back up at her, my heart aflame. “Mother… What, you don’t think she’s good enough..?” I accused, irritably. “Good enough for me?”

“Oh, Pink, baby… It’s not that.” She cooed in a tone that implied the exact opposite. She stroked my mane as she had done so many times before. “She’ll break your heart, trust me, dear. She’s a temptress, a piece of foreign trash. No doubt she’ll grow up to be a harlot. She’s probably already turning tricks for some of the foals in her school”

I scowled at her words and shifted her hoof off of me. “No, she’s not…” I whispered, barely audible. I looked up at the pink mare’s face. Her eyes were filled only with concern and fear. She truly believed Rêves would bring nothing but trouble. Mother truly believed that Rêves would break my heart.

“What was that, Pink?” Mother’s voice was laden with false cheerfulness. Her eyes contracted as she watched me. She knew what I had said.

I met her gaze, my soul steeled against her normally debilitating stare. “I said, mother,” I spat with venom. “That you’re wrong…”

Mother began to respond to my complaints, but I cut her off first, exploding. I leapt off the bed from her grasp and shouted with a ferocity I hadn’t felt in a long while.

“JUST BECAUSE FATHER DIED, DOESN’T MEAN EVERY LOVE WILL BE HEARTAC…” I trailed off as mother’s face distorted in sadness. Tears welled up in her eyes. She lifted her hoof off of me and stood up, despondently. My anger washed away as I realized what I had said.

“Mother, I- I didn't mean…” The apology died in my mouth.

She stood there, watching the floor. She shot one more forlorn glance at me and silently walked out of my room. Her hoofsteps fell heavily on each step as she trudged downstairs.

I fell backwards on to my bed, and grabbed a pillow, squeezing it tightly. I felt horrible now. Not only did I remind mother of the loss of her husband, I also remembered him. It had been such a long time since either of us had thought about him. I gasped as the day’s events began to hit me. My eyes began to water, but I fought the tears back.

The sound of a mare desperately trying to stifle her cries floated upstairs to my ears. I squeezed my pillow even tighter, hoping for some resolve. This day had not turned out well.

Desperate for some relief, my eyes drifted about the room before settling on a shelf just to the right of my door. My foalhood memorabilia were arranged orderly on the slightly unstable wooden shelf. A few photos of mother and I, an old hat, and a few stuffed animals. My eyes connected with one plaything in particular: Ace, the last gift my father had given me.

The years had taken its toll on the formerly blue pegasus doll. No longer were its wings sewed on, leaving it a simple earth pony, like me. Some unknown chemical process bleached its blue coat a faint pink, leaving an eerily reminiscent imitation of me. Its dark coal button eyes watched me from the shelf. The damaged doll had a slight smile on his face, as if amused by what he had seen.

Suddenly angry at the doll, I chucked my pillow at it as best I could. It flew through the air and landed with a soft thwump on the wall below, missing the doll completely. I blinked. I had just thrown a pillow at an inanimate doll. Was I going crazy? I shut my eyes and tried to fall asleep.

I heard another quiet sob, though if it came from downstairs, outside, or my room, I did not know.

~-~-~-~-~-~

A loud bang shattered the silence. Startled, I looked towards the window, only to find nothing different than normal. Whatever the sound was, it was gone now. Probably just the wind. Shrugging, I went back to writing my new song. It was a true masterpiece and I knew this one was a winner. They would like this one for sure.

I stuck my tongue out in concentration. Now, what was a word to rhyme with raise…? Maze? Lays? No. Those were too simple. I knew, for my work to truly stand out from the others, it would need innovation and pizzazz. Raise…raise…rise…surprise. Yes. That was it. Raise, pronounced rise, and surprise. Ingenious. That would show those bastards…

Another sharp crack from my window. I flicked my ears in exasperation. Why me? Then, another series of small clacks against my window sounded. I wailed in aggravation. How was I to get anything done with these interruptions!

Angrily, I stomped over to the window and looked for the source of my frustration. At first, all I could see was the house across the street. A young mare inside was staring out at the outside world, looking as bored as I was furious.

I tore my eyes away from her and glanced down to the sidewalk below me. To my surprise, Short and Ox were standing just outside my house. Another collection of small stones smacked into my window pane, thrown by the tan pegasus below.

Quietly, I crept to my door and peered down the hall. I couldn’t see mother anywhere. I glanced at my clock. 1:46. She was probably napping, tired after her night shift at work.

Deciding it was safe, I silently slinked my over to my window and inched it open. I stuck my head out, then hastily drew it back in as another round of pebbles whizzed past my head.

I leaned back out. “Hey!” I hissed. “What’s the big deal, huh?”

Even from the second story window, I could see Short’s face light up as I appeared in the window. “He-ey, Pinky!” he shouted loudly.

Ox spoke up from beside him. “’Ello, guvnor! Just thought we’d check up in on ya!”

I smiled and called down to them. “We all know you two never just ‘check up in on me!’ What’s with all those rocks and my window? Glass isn’t indestructible, you know.”

My tawny pegasus friend grabbed hold of Ox suddenly and shot off from the ground, flapping gently to my window level. “Well, Pinky, we’d though’ we’d see if’in you’d like ta come with us down to the train tracks with us. We- Stop struggling, Entwistle! Don’ wan’ me ta drop ya, now do ya?” The red unicorn grinned sheepishly and hung off of Short’s back hooves, limp. “Now, we found some firecrackers a few days ago. We were gonna go put them on the tracks and let the train run over them. Be a hell of a show, Pinky. Explosions and all tha’.” Short finished, excitedly.

I chuckled at the thought. That would seem like a thing these two would do. But… I glanced back to my desk, and my song. My ears drooped. I looked back at the two colts hanging outside my window.

I rubbed the back of my neck nervously. “Err… I don’t know, you two. I’m doing stuff, and-”

Ox cut me off. “Ooh! What kinda stuff?” He swung wildly from Short’s hooves. “Songs? I love your songs, Pinky. Can we see it?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Ox and Short were already clambering inside my window.

“Guys,” I hissed. “You can’t be in here! Mother’s sleeping! If she catches you…”

Short waved a hoof dismissively. ‘Ah, you worry too much, Pinky! You should stop stayin’ cooped up in here with your ma. Can’t be good for ya.”

“Oi, is this the song you workin’ on?” Ox snatched my papers off my desk, floating them close to his face. “Money?” He asked, a tinge of doubt creeping into his voice. “You writin’ a song ‘bout money?”

“Le’ me se tha’.” Short fluttered over and tugged the lyrics from Ox’s magical grasp. “Wow, Pinky, ya are. Runnin’ outta subjects are we?”

“Seriously, Short. You two can’t be here. Give me back my work.”

Short stuck his tongue out and floated closer to the ceiling. “And wha’ if we don’ wanna, hmm, Pinky?”

I leapt up, clambering for a hold on Short’s backhooves. “By Celestia, Short!" I shouted, "I’ll kill you if you don’t get back down here right now!”

I prepared to jump again, but Ox’s red hoof stopped me. “Gee, Pink. He’s only joking. Right Short?” His eyes were filled with confused sympathy, but I was in no mood for his empathy.

Short folded his wings and landed on my bed. He held my composition out to me. “Yea, Pinky. I’s jus’ kiddin’. What’s eatin’ at you?”

I ground my teeth. “Nothing. Just trying to get some work done, but I-”

“But what, Pink?”

“Shh Ox!” I hissed. I held my hoof up to my mouth motioning them to be quiet. I thought I had heard a cough from downstairs. Mother…

“Pinky, what-”

“Shush, Short!”

“Pink!” Came a call from downstairs. “Are you talking up in your room? I hear voices.” The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Yes, definitely mother.

I looked at Short and Ox, who had similar expressions of fear on their faces. “Quick!” I shouted, pushing them towards the window. “You two can’t be in here!”

We reached the window and flung it open. Outside my door, I could hear the heavy steps of mother coming up the stairs. My heart fluttered. If they were caught in my room without her permission…

Sort scrambled through the window first, holding out his forehooves to carry Ox down. I heard the first step of the staircase squeak as mother trod on it. The red unicorn leapt through the window into Short’s waiting arms. The pegasus’ wings beat furiously to support the added weight.

The two colts slowly drifted out of sight. “A- Alright, Pin- oomph! Ugh, Ox, for such a small colt, you weight a ton…” The tawny pegasus and his red payload gradually sunk out of sight, their voices fading out of earshot. With one last glance to make sure they were gone, I gently closed the window.

The window clicked shut just and the latch on my door opened. I twirled around, covering the window from mother’s gaze as Short and Ox got away.

“Heard some noises, sunshine. You talking to yourself?” She smirked, at what I suspect was a vain attempt at humor.

My eyes danced nervously around the room. “No- Nope, mother. Just…I’m not sure what you would’ve heard. Just me and my, err… schoolwork…”

“Ah.” She smiled at me, once again. “And how’s that going?” Without waiting for my reply, she turned to face the desk. Oh Celestia…

Mother froze. “What’s this, Pink?”

I followed her gaze to the papers on my desk. To my song in progress, still lying open to the world. I chuckled nervously.
“It’s- It’s nothing, mother. I was just…” I trailed off as she strode over to the song and snatched it up. Her eyes scanned the page, absorbing every word of it.

“Pink…” She set down the paper and looked at me. “I thought I told you I didn’t want you to compose any longer.”
“I- I know mother, I just…”

“Just what, Pink?”

I scuffed my hoof on the ground. “Nothing, mother. I’ll stop…”

“Good boy.” She scooped my work up again and held it in her hooves. “I don’t want that kind of lifestyle for my little boy. It’s not healthy.”

Her hooves came together, crushing the fragile paper between them. Slowly, watching my reaction intently, she wadded up the music and threw it in the rubbish bin. “Now, I don’t want to see anymore composing from you, you hear? Try and find a more proper profession, like… a mail courier or dry cleaning.” She offered a hoof to me. I looked at it, but then pushed it away.

“Just promise me, Pink. Promise you’ll look to find a different special talent that won’t steer you down the wrong paths.”
I faked a smile and nodded in what I hoped was understanding. “Yes. Of course, mother. I- I’ll try…”

“Alright. I trust you, sunshine.” She turned to leave and got one hoof on the doorknob. “I love you, Pink.”

When I did not respond, she shut my door and left the room, leaving it slightly ajar. Silently, I got up and pressed the door closed. Of course, I had no intention of giving up my career as a musician. This was twice now that mother had tried to stomp it out of me, with little success. My music was the one thing I could truly find stability in. It helped me forget about my life. Forget how my home had become almost as oppressing as my school.

I sighed and trotted over to the wastebasket and fished my composition out. I smoothed it out on the edge of my desk and winced at what I saw. Mother had done a number on it. Most of it was too wrinkled to be comprehensible. But, with a little love, it could be saved. I chuckled to myself. I would just have to be more careful from now on.

I spun around to face my bed, intending to relax after my exhausting afternoon, but instead found the grim expressions of Short and Ox just outside my window. Gently, they pushed the window open and begun to climb inside. I winced. They must have heard everything.

~-~-~-~-~-~

I was sitting at my desk doing some homework for my new school. Papers, crumpled and marked with scribbled writings were scattered across my desk. Two textbooks; one algebra, and the other anatomy were lying open, turned to a random page. Truthfully, I just wanted to seem busy for mother. My studies held no interest for me.

Since the unfortunate ‘demolition’ of my old school, I was transferred to a private, more uptight one. It was expensive, I was sure, but mother said it was worth it that I was safe, than mixed in with the normal riff-raff of public schools. I hated it. Almost marginally less than my old school.

I looked down at my paper. It was blank, save for a few doodles and beginnings of songs of floating around in my head. I had been using this paper for weeks now, not even bothering to get a fresh sheet, not even to pretend I was actually doing work. One, rather old drawing caught my attention.

I had been doodling a crude drawing of Rêves, whom I’d sparingly seen around town, since our rather climatic ‘break-up’. I never found the courage to tell her what had happened. The time passed grew too long for it to be any sort of meaningful. I still loved Rêves, but ever since mother’s warning, I had grown wary of the green unicorn. What if mother was right? What if Rêves would only ruin me?

I trusted mother, though someday I hoped that I would explain things to my former marefriend. For my sake.

I glanced up on a whim, looking out my window. The sun was rapidly setting, bringing the twilight along with it. I turned and looked at my clock. It was almost six. Mother shouldn’t be home for another hour, and the mare that lived just across the street should be getting home anytime now…

The upstairs light in the neighboring house flicked on, revealing the bedroom within. My ears perked in excitement. With one last glance towards my door, I bent over and fished my father’s old pipe from underneath my desk. I had found it one night in his closet one night, hidden in a shelf. I had quickly hidden it in my room, with the prospect of smoking it occasionally. With a practiced motion, I scraped its bottom across my desk, lighting it and placed it in my mouth, puffing out a smoke ring. It was an easy-light pipe, for non-unicorn use.

Gradually, the orange mare in the house across came into view of the window. She paused and bent down to slip off what I assumed were her shoes.

I smiled to myself, puffed on the pipe once more and extinguished it. Best not to overindulge, especially with mother snooping about. Smoke could fill up a room surprisingly fast. I stowed it back in its hiding place and drew out a pair of binoculars also hidden there. I brought them to my eyes and concentrated on the mare across the street.

This mare had caught my attention several months ago because of her striking figure. I suppose it was a deeply engrained longing for Rêves that made me notice her. The two were very similar in body, except the orange mare across the street was well into adulthood.

I eventually figured out her schedule, though not by trying on my part. It was rather a happy mistake that her schedule was so exact that I began to notice she came home every day at generally the same time. She came home every evening, tired after working the whole day. She would tromp upstairs and flick on her light, which because of the darkness outside, allowed any outside observers to look in. And occasionally, she would undress in front of the window…

…And I simply admired her from afar. Nothing more, and nothing less. She was certainly beautiful, but the only mare I had attentions for was Rêves, even though I wasn’t too sure whether to trust her or not. Mother seemed sure of her evil nature, but I still loved the green unicorn despite mother’s beliefs.

I watched at the peach mare slid out of her ornate green dress, leaving only her tight undershirt still on. I grinned at the sight, taking in the view. The mare laid her dress carefully across her bed and went to pull off her undershirt, which already left nothing to the imagination.

Her hoof slipped under the shirt and began to tug, causing me to quiver in anticipation. Just then, my door latch clicked, and unfastened. Alarmed, I threw the binoculars under the desk and scooped up my pencil, pretending to look busy with schoolwork.

Seconds later, the door opened to reveal the pink coat of mother. I looked at her, eyes wide, struggling to not look guilty. She strode into the room, as if noticing nothing. She must not have seen. I breathed a small sigh of relief.
“Hi, Pink. I’m home earl-” She cut off, stopping dead in her tracks, her eyes staring at the floor. Fearfully, I followed her gaze to my binoculars that were lying just in sight.

“What were you…?” One could see the wheels sluggishly turning in her head as she pieced together the situation. Slowly, her eyes lit up in comprehension. Her gaze moved upwards to my window and what was just across the street.

This wasn’t going to be good…

~-~-~-~-~-~

I sifted through the box’s contents. It had been a good few years since I had truly looked at my father’s former possessions, and before I had been too young to fully appreciate them. But now…

I grabbed my father’s uniform, complete with blood and grime. Cautiously, I put a hoof through its sleeve, flung the other sleeve around my back and shrugged it on. I looked at the mirror. What looked back at me was laughable at best. A small, scrawny foal playing dress up with his father’s clothes. It was pathetic, but yet I did not take off the shirt. It reminded me of father.

I glanced back down at the box. Its contents had not changed over the years, but I felt like the items in it spoke differently to me then they had before. Each item had a different story to tell than they did when I was young. My understanding of each item in the box, however small, changed as I grew up.

It was a qualm of growing older. You faced greater and greater difficulties as time went on, eventually leaving the sweet innocence of childhood behind. And each experience, large or small, changed your outlook on life, leaving you different each and every day. And so your view and opinion on things changed as time went on. Especially in such troubled times such as this war that was steadily going into its fourteenth year. Fourteen years of death and destruction. Fourteen years with foals left fatherless.

This was all that was left of my father. Clothes, a meaningless purple medal and an unmarked grave somewhere in a blast zone. It was despicable. The government could care less about us. Our wise and honorable princess focused only on the warfront, leaving our homeland to fall into ruins in the same rate as the war destroyed other countries. How I wished something, anything would change and this damn war would end!

I looked back at the mirror. And my reflection looked back at me. But no longer did I see myself swaddled in a uniform much too big for me.

What stared back at me through the mirror was something altogether more terrifying.

A corpse stared back out at me. The very embodiment of Death himself. I could see father watching me from the mirror, regarding me with a blank expression. I saw every soldier whose life had ever ended early watching me from that mirror. I saw all the pain and suffering.

I turned my head to the side, averting my eyes. The figure in the mirror did the same, revealing the left side of his face. The hair was scorched and stripped away, leaving the flesh a raw pink. The jaw had shattered and was swinging loose, the mirror pony’s tongue lolling out. Blood seeped out from a mashed eye socket, the eye within nearly unrecognizable. I cringed and shut my eyes, hoping to block out the hallucination.

Sometimes I felt envious of those colts and stallions slain in the war. For the ones that returned came back to a place just as shattered as the battle itself. I could see the disgust in the eyes of the ponies sent home, too injured to continue fighting. I could see the confusion they felt. Was this the land they were fighting for? What happened to the world of color and laughs they left behind in the beginning? And the civilians’ reactions to their efforts did not help their already broken psyches. Anger and blame over the rapidly failing war effort.

No, death was the only way to truly escape the war.

I opened my eyes again and looked back at the mirror only to see my normal pink coat once more. I shuddered and slipped the coat off my shoulders, holding its sleeve in my hooves. I brushed some soot off of the brass buttons. Bright red blood stained left side of the coat. Father’s blood.

I threw the coat down on the dresser and hurriedly ripped off the other adornments I put on. A strong wave of nausea rolled through my stomach, churning its contents. What had possessed me to wear the uniform my father lived his final moments in?

As the garments fell to the ground, I looked at my ordinarily pink coat. The charred parts of the uniform that had touched my fur left large, black splotches of ash that looked to be a pain to wash out. My gaze travelled further down to my hooves, which were tinged red from handling the bloodstained cloth. Flecks of dried blood had rubbed off into my fur, darkening its normal pink color.

I felt this morning’s breakfast stir in my stomach. Hurriedly, I shoved a hoof in front of my mouth and hobbled lop-sided to a nearby trashcan. I retched, sickened by the death that I had been wearing.

After my half-digested food sat at the bottom of the trashcan, I groggily sat up. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hoof and glanced back at the pile of clothes on the floor. That, bar none, was the most revolting thing I had ever done.

I groaned and stood up unsteadily. I strode from the room, skirting the tattered outfit and grabbed the door handle. Without as much as a backwards glance, I exited and shut the door behind me, eager to leave the room behind.

I knew I would certainly never let the Equestrian Military draft me into their ranks. Not now. The mere thought of risking my life made my stomach squirm once again.

Nopony would put me in the firing line. Nopony would send me to an untimely death. I wouldn’t follow father’s hoofsteps.
No, I had much greater ambitions. Ambitions that involved me keeping my entrails and organs firmly inside my body.

~-~-~-~-~-~

The air raid siren blasted through the peaceful night. I awoke with a start, tumbling to the floor, caught up in my sheets. It was a situation I’d grown accustomed to finding myself in, though the alarm was a change. Still half asleep, my mind rushed to catch up. That sound… It was…

Air raid!

Quickly, I sat up and scrambled up to my window. Outside, the sun was just beginning to peak the horizon. The sky was tinged a light pink. I could see the dawn unexpectedly come alive as families woke up to the sound of the siren. Faintly, I could hear screams and shouts from the houses around me through the window’s glass.

Oh, Celestia! The city was under attack!

I sat there, momentarily, transfixed by the warbling siren and its shrill song. My mind was in turmoil. Nopony had ever thought the war would find its way here, but it seemed it had. And now the repercussions of the war were no longer distant bits of news. Death had finally reached our doorstep, and nopony had prepared for it.

I heard hooffalls outside my door as mother pounded up the stairs to my room. I snapped out of my trance and turned to look just as she smashed the door open. In the blink of an eye, she crossed the distance from the door to me, yanked me up from off the floor and shoved me towards the door, eager to get to the safety of downstairs.

As we turned the corner, I glanced back at the window. The distinct silhouette of a mortar shell crossed over the sun’s rising light, temporarily blotting it out. Then it disappeared from sight as the window moved out of sight. All went quiet for a moment as mother and I hurried downstairs. Then, an ear shattering roar filled the air. Our windows shattered inwards, showering the downstairs with glass. As we bounded off the stairwell, one particularly jagged shard embedded itself in the space just previously occupied by my back hooves.

As we moved towards the closet, our designated safe area, I looked outside through our wrecked windows. All I could see was the large, still smoking crater just a few hundred meters away. Crushed brick pavers and dirt littered the normally pristine road. If the bomb was just a bit closer to us… I gulped as the events of my old nightmare began to play out in my mind.

We leapt into the closet, and slammed the door closed. The room was shrouded in darkness, with the only light streaming in under the door. The space in the closet was cramped. There was just barely enough space for the two of us because of the shelving that took up most of the room.

Loud, shuddering blasts shook the house. Dust rose up in clouds from the floor, disturbed by the bombs. Plaster, already fragile from age began shaking loose from the walls and ceilings, coating us in its flakes. Long, sinewy cracks ran up from the floors, dividing the wall into sections.

I looked up at mother in the dim light. Her pink coat as streaked with dirt and blood. Thin cuts marred her normally unspoiled coat. Drips of blood ran down her muzzle and forehooves, cut from the explosion of glass from before. I looked at my hooves, only to see the same dark red staining my coat.

Bombs were falling on our city. It seemed, as I would not go to the war, the war came to me. Even within mere moments, blood already stained my hooves.

Fleeting visions of my foalhood dreams entered my head. I saw, as I had for so many nights, as my father woke from his slumber only to realize his camp was under attack. Then, a dark, monstrous shape filled my vision and the first bomb hurdled toward the blue pegasus.

Blackness.

I whinnied in fright and clutched at mother, nuzzling into her, trying to block out my thoughts. If the first bomb landed just a few feet closer to our house…

She squeezed me back, holding me tight. I sobbed into her chest. “Shh, Pink… It’s alright…” she murmured.

Another thud shook the house, this time less powerfully. The bombing was moving away as the raid swept across the city. I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe we would live through this relatively unscathed

Mother gripped me tighter. I felt wetness splash on top of my muzzle as she began to weep along with me. Another thundering explosion landed far off in the distance. “Shh…baby…” She stroked my mane, trying to calm me down, as well as herself.

“Don’t worry, Pink…Momma’s gonna keep you cozy and warm.”

I sniffled and wiped my eyes. I looked up at her and smiled. I burrowed into her embrace again.

“I know, mother… I know…”

We stayed like that for a few hours, twisted in the small closet. Shouts of battle trickled in from the outside through the thin wall of the house. Occasionally we heard a few explosions followed by the compulsory shouts of pain. We heard the electric zap of unicorn magic as it connected with soft tissue of ponies, though whose side it hit was unknown.

And the entire time, the air raid siren continued to whistle its monotone tune, unbroken by even the sounds of war.

But then, what seemed like days later, but could as well have been mere minutes, the outside world went quiet. The screams died down. The fighting rolled to a halt. And our crying subsided.

It was the sound of silence. The absence of noise.

All was safe, but why did I still feel so alone and terrified?

Author's Note

Based on “Mother”

Chapter Six: The Promise of a Brave, New World

Chapter Six

The Promise of a Brave, New World

I sat in the carriage, watching the city roll by through the windows, anxiously tapping my hoof on the windowsill, trying to relieve some of the tension knotted up in my stomach.

Short glowered at me. “Stop that, will ya? We’re all nervous enough as it is without you tappin’ your hoof.” He reached out and griped my leg, stopping its drumming.

I gave him a small smile and leaned back into the seat. “Sorry. It’s just, they were just so vague with what they wanted, ya know? It’s been a week since the album released. What if it’s a flop and they’re letting us go, or somethin’?”

Short shook his head. “Don’t worry. You an’ the band did a great job, ya hear?” He looked out the window. “I think we’re almost there, so, as your manager, will you please relax for me, Pinky?”

I sighed and turned to face the tan pegasus. “I… I guess. I just put so much work into this. I don’t know what I’d do if this fails.” I paused, running a hoof through my mane. “This has been the moment I’ve been working towards ever since I got my cutie mark. What if I’m not cut out to be a musician? It’s a cutthroat business…”

“Hey…” Short rested a hoof on my shoulder, just as the carriage rolled to a stop. “Get yourself together, rock star, because you’re on.”

I nodded, begrudgingly, and opened the door of the taxicab. I stared up at the towering building in front of me. I felt Short clamber down from the carriage after me, flicking a few bits to the driver. “It’s impressive,” he said.

“Huh?”

“The building.” He motioned in front of him. “Parlaphone Records is a big company. The fact they called us here so soon can only mean big news.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled, “but is that news good or bad?” We trotted forward into the building, pushing through the large double doors.

A large, empty lobby with a lone receptionist on the far side greeted us.

We walked across the tiled floor, our hoofsteps echoing around the room, and the receptionist stared at us as we approached, an emotionless gaze on her face. As we reached her desk, she spoke up. “Name?” she asked.

I smiled at her, resting a foreleg on the desk. She didn’t smile back. “Pinkerton and Shortchange here to see, uh, Mr. Parlaphone.”

The mare examined a few papers on her desk for a moment. “You’re early. Didn’t expect that. I’ll tell them you’re here.” She looked back up at us, the same bored expression still on her face. “Go through the doors at the end of the hall and look for room sixty-eight. He’ll be in there.”

I nodded and made for the doors she indicated. Short smiled and thanked her, and then hurried after me. We entered the doors and went down a long hallway. Near the end were a pair of nondescript doors labelled as Rm. 68. Our room.

We looked at each other. “Well, this is it,” Short said, some apprehension seeping into his voice.

“Yeah,” I whispered back. “Let’s hope it’s good news...”

We pushed open the doors together, and were met by a large conference room. Seated around the table in the center was Mr. Parlaphone, the head of the record company, whom we had never met before, and several other executives and ponies I didn’t recognize, all of whom turned to face us as we entered.

I cracked a smile. “Hello.”

None of them responded. I glanced at Short out of the corner of my eye to see that he was just as nervous as I was.

“Sit,” Parlaphone said as he motioned towards two empty chairs opposite him. He then added a, “Please.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat and did as he asked, Short trailing just behind me. We took the offered seats at the foot of the table, the chairs squeaking loudly as we did so.

My producer, sitting further down, at the right of the table, leaned forward, his face grim, eyes not quite on either of us. “Now, Pinkerton,” he spoke, “You know that we only signed you on because Fifth over here,” the stallion to his left smiled at us, “thought you were good enough.” He sighed, his eyes glancing over our faces. “It has been a full week since your album, Projection, was released, and, well, we’ve received word that…it has exceeded all sales expectations.”

I blinked.

“W-what?” is what came out of my mouth, purely by accident.

Parlaphone, from his seat at the other end, cracked a smile at us. “Your album, my boy, is selling like crazy. It’s at the top of the charts.”

Short stirred beside me, sitting up straighter. “The top of the charts?”

Parlaphone nodded and stood up, while everypony else broke into subdued applause. “Yes indeed, my boy. Against—well, I’ll be frank—against all of our expectations, your debut album is currently on track to be one of the best-selling albums in Equestria, and most other countries for that matter!” He laughed and walked around the table to stand beside me. “You’re a hit, boy! An overnight sensation! We wanted to invite you here to tell you personally that your album has already gone Gold, and is expected to be certified-Platinum before the month’s end, if these projections are to be trusted!”

“I…I…Wow! That’s amazing!” For once, I was at loss for words.

I stood up, my legs shaky, and looked over at Short, whose face looked just how I felt. “I can’t believe it. I…” Something inside of me felt complete and warm. I was giddy and broke out into a smile. “Wow, just thank you, sir! I—”

Parlaphone laughed and clasped me on my back, jolting me some. “No. Thank you, my boy! You made us some serious money. You can do whatever you want in the future, so long as your music still keeps selling, alright?” He went back around to the other side of the table and sat down. “You boys can head on out now and go home and do whatever you want.”

And, just like that, we were dismissed.

Short and I stood up, both of us still barely unable to grasp that I became the one of the most popular musicians ever, just like that.

We exchanged a few words more with my producer, before we turned to leave. As we pushed out chairs back and stood up, Parlaphone spoke up again. “Oh, and by the way, we’re throwing a little party tonight at about nine o’clock, at the old convention hall in celebration of this momentous occasion. You’re invited, of course, as is anybody else you’d like to bring along. There’ll be food, drink aplenty, pretty much everything. It’ll be a grand old time, alright?”

I nodded, promising that we would be there, and walked to the door, absolutely ecstatic with the way the day turned out. We were almost out of the room when Parlaphone stopped us again. “Oh, and another thing, which one of you two is Pink?”

I froze, and turned to face him, slightly offended that he didn’t even know what I looked like. For a moment, I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that question.

“I am,” was all I said.

The mood in the room had taken a little downturn. Some of the other ponies around the table seemed just as off put as I was. His comment certainly sucked some of the joy out of this moment.

But Parlaphone didn’t seem to notice anything, and flashed another big smile at me. “Alrighty. You’re gonna be big, kid. I can feel it!”

And with that, we left.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

After me and Short had left the meeting and exited the building, we practically broke down right outside of the door. If any police officers had been around at the time, we may have been arrested for disturbing the peace, because we were screaming our heads off in excitement. Both of our pent up exhilaration was broken through, and we had very much made a scene right there on the sidewalk.

It was a little embarrassing, in retrospect, but in the moment, it was all we could do. It was very loud, to say the least. We were both very, very, excited.

After that though, I rushed back home as fast as I could to break the good news to Rêves. Short headed off to go inform the rest of the band what had happened, since, well, he didn’t have anyone to go celebrate with himself.

By the time I got to the apartment building Rêves and I both lived in, I was nearly trembling. I bounded up the stairs, up to the fifth floor, and, after fumbling with the key for a moment, let myself into the little apartment we both called home.

It wasn’t the fanciest of places. It was a bit of a dump, really, but it was enough for us two. Despite only having lived there for a little less than a year, it felt as if I had lived there all my life.

And there, sitting on the couch, lazily flipping through some magazine, was Rêves. As I opened the door, her head snapped up, her expression worried. “How’d it go?” she asked.

I stood there for a moment, the words I was wanting to say evaporating before I could. In all my excitement, I couldn’t find the words.

She looked at me, concerned. “Was it bad? Did they let you go or something?” She stood up and moved towards me, throwing the magazine onto the couch.

I smiled wide, and closed in to hug her tightly. “It went absolutely great!” I planted my lips on her’s and kissed her deeply. For a moment, she tried to say something, mumbling into my mouth, but then pushed back with equal measure, returning the kiss.

We broke apart what felt like lifetime later, she wiping at the corner of her mouth, me panting slightly.

She smiled back at me, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “Well? What happened then? Don’t leave me hanging!”

“You, my dear,” I said with a sultry wink, “are looking at the stallion who created one of the best-selling albums in the country!”

Her eyes went wide. “Really!?”

I nodded. “The album’s at the top of the charts, it’s gone certified Gold. It’s selling like crazy!”

She squealed in excitement and pulled me into another hug, only to kiss me again. “That—That’s amazing! How did— What— How— I-I can’t believe it!”

She was having trouble speaking as well, apparently.

“I know!” I responded earnestly, “I still can’t believe it!”

“W-well, we have to go out and celebrate tonight! This is huge!”

“The company is already throwing a big party tonight in celebration. Everyone’s gonna be there.”

Her eyes grew wide. “When?”

“It’s at nine, down at the convention hall.”

“Pink!” she admonished in a sort of half-shout, “That’s in, like, four hours! We’ve gotta get ready!” She turned and galloped into the bedroom. “I don’t even know if we have anything to wear!”

I followed in after her, chuckling softly. “Babe, don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

She scoffed at me. “No it’s not! This is a big, fancy party, and you’re the guest of honor. There’ll be a ton of important ponies there. We’ve have to look nice.”

I sighed. She was right, of course. We had to be presentable.

I didn’t know quite what to expect tonight, but I was sure that I’d be watched closely.

“Alright,” I said, “You’re right…”

And I joined her.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Short stood on the street corner in an ill-fitting suit, his eyes darting nervously around the area.

I strode up behind him and tapped gently on his shoulder. “Heya, Short.”

“Eep!” He nearly jumped out of his skin. As I burst out laughing, he turned around to glower at me. “Yeah, okay, Pinky. Ya got me. Jeez…”

“S-sorry,” I chuckled. “I didn’t think I’d scare you!”

Rêves then came trotting up behind me, joining me at my side. “What happened?” she asked.

Short rolled his eyes. “Nothin’.”

She let loose a small giggle, and I shot her a knowing glance.

We three began walking down the street, to the convention hall. “You tell everyone else what’s goin’ on?”

“Yeah. They’ll meet us there.”

And so we walked to our destination in a companionable silence.

Once there, Short ran ahead of us, and then stopped in front of the doors. He grinned widely, and then gestured to the building. “Lady and Gentlestallion, We’ve arrived at our destination for this evenin’.”

I nodded at him and then moved to open the doors. Only, before I could Short shot forward and opened them first. “Nah. You two go in. You’re what’s got us ‘ere.”

And so, we entered the room, Short following us in. Immediately, I was taken aback by the sheer opulence of everything. It was an incredibly fancy place. I didn’t think I’d ever been in a room as lavish as this one.

And, judging by the expressions of my companions, they hadn’t either.

Were immediately beset upon by a stallion in a fancy outfit. “Ah! Our guests of honor have arrived!” His voice had some sort of accent I couldn’t quite place.
He turned and gestured for us to follow him further into the room. “Please follow me.”

And so we went.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

The evening went by in a blur.

It was several hours later now, close to midnight, though how much later I was unsure. I had had barely a moment to myself the entire night. Everyone who was there wanted to meet me and talk to me, and by the time an hour had gone by, I was in a daze.

Though, I had a feeling that they were less interested in me as a pony then they were in meeting the musician that was the newest sensation in Equestria.
But now, thankfully, the evening had worn down, and many of the guests had cleared out.

Now, I was sitting by myself at a table, watching from across the room as Short and Rêves spoke to some other ponies. I was tired now, but they were still having fun.

“Hey, man,” came a voice from beside me.

I turned to look, and was met by a stallion in a bright floral pattern shirt and tie sitting to my left. He grinned at me lazily, his eyes half-lidded and bloodshot.

“Hey,” I said back.

For a few seconds he didn’t appear to acknowledge me, but then fixed me with his stare. “Hey, man, you lookin’ for a good time?”

I tilted my head slightly, unsure what exactly he was propositioning. “Hmm?”

“Here, man.” And to me, he held out a tightly-wrapped joint. “Take some of this.”

“I, uh…” I took the joint gently, turning it around to inspect it. “What is this exactly?” I asked, turning my attention back to the stallion.

He smiled, though not quite. “It’s poison joke, man. It’s some good shit—really good.” He nodded, his head bobbing as he did so. “Try it, man.”

Well, I suppose, this was the life I was in now. Might as well make the most of it.

I shrugged, and held the joint out towards him. With a little difficulty, he fished a lighter from inside his jacket and, with practiced ease, he flicked on the flame and lit the tip of the paper for me.

I smiled at him. “Cheers,” I said, motioning the joint in his general direction.

I brought it up to my lips.

I took a deep breath in.

I held the smoke in my mouth for a moment, letting it sit.

And I exhaled, a small stream of smoke coming along with.

“Oohh…” I scrunched up my face and snorted violently. My eyes blinked, and then focused back on the stallion, who was watching me back with mild interest. “Wow…” I sighed again. “That hits you hard, don’t it?”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Ss’good…” I blinked again, rubbing my eyes with the back of a hoof.

All of a sudden, there was a tap on my shoulder.

I looked behind me to see a mare I had never seen before. She was in a… very, very tight dress. I felt my eyes wander unbidden across her form before meeting her eyes.

“How’re you doing?” were the words that came out of her mouth, though they sounded almost muffled to me.

I said something in response, though what I wasn’t sure.

She smiled at me.

I smiled at her.

Moving slowly, she slinked closer to me and wrapped a hoof around my neck. The smell of her perfume filled my nose and I felt myself let out a sigh. With gentle movements, she plucked the joint from my grasp with the other, taking a draw from it herself.

“Just give it a minute, man. All your worries will be gone…” The other stallion took a swig from his own blunt, breathing the smoke out into the air.
The mare on my shoulder pressed my blunt back to my lips and I took another deep breath in.

Her own lips pressed against the side of my face.

Then, out of the corner of my eyes, came another mare. She found a spot on my other side, taking a swig from my joint as well.

Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. My wife was standing just on the other side of the room. I shouldn’t be taking any drugs now. I shouldn’t be involving myself with these two, very, very beautiful mares.

But…

I took another puff, plating a kiss on the cheek of one of those mares next to me. I wasn’t quite sure which. They were a little hazy, and, at the moment, I didn’t really care which was which.

“Ahh… This is the good life…” I mumbled to no one in particular.

And the world fell away.

.

Author's Note

Based on "Goodbye Blue Sky"

Chapter Seven: With Our Backs to the Wall

Chapter Seven

With Our Backs to the Wall

.

What shall I use to fill these empty spaces?

…These empty spaces where we used to talk?

'--LRETNAC NI ETUTITSNI CIRTAIHCYSP LAIROMEM REHCTELF EHT FO ERAC, KNIP OT REWSNA RUOY DNES ESAELP. EGASSEM TERCES EHT DEREVOCSID TSUJ UOY. SNOITALUTARGNOC...'

“Oi, Pink! Rêves is on the phone!”

“...Alright...”

How shall I fill the final places?

“How're you doing?”

“Fine. You?”

“I’m good.”

How should I complete the wall?

“You sound tired, Pink. Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“No, I'm fine. Don't worry, babe...”

“…Anything else going on?”

“Uuhhh... Not really. I, uh, had to buy a new guitar yesterday. Trashed the old one.”

“That’s…good, I guess…”

“Mmhmm…”

"Alright... Bye. Love you."

"Goodbye."

Never relax at all…

“Hey, is there anypony in there...?”

Green flashed in front of my vision.

I blinked.

The world fell into place.

Then, more green interrupted my view of my hooves and the piano I had been playing. Unsteadily, I tore my gaze away from the keys and glanced up.

A green unicorn mare looked back at me. She smiled at me and tightened the saddlebags slung on her back.

“Yes, remember me? Your loving wife, Rêves?”

I gazed at her vacantly. Rêves… Wife…

“Reves…” I croaked in reply, a small smile playing on my lips.

She sighed and looked at me dejectedly. “Yes, Pink, Rêves... Sweet Celestia, those drugs you’re taking addle your brain. It’s a wonder you can even talk.”

I looked at her. “…Ss’wonder…” I mumbled sluggishly, nodding my head slightly.

She clenched her eyes shut and choked back a moan. I watched her, unsure what was going on. What was there to be sad about? I was happy. She was happy. Life was great…

When she reopened her eyes, she smiled half-heartedly. “Ye—Yes, Pink. I’m going down to the—” She broke off, a soft sob racking her body. “To the store for a bit, okay?”

I stared back in response.

Rêves turned away from me and the piano and trotted back towards the door. I watched her go.

With a hoof on the door, she looked back over her shoulder. “I love you, Pink…”

I didn’t respond.

She left the room. I blinked again and looked back at the piano. Unsteadily, I pressed down on the keys, creating a discordant tune, my hooves trembling with every movement. I sighed and my forelimbs fell limply to my side. I reached a hoof out towards the now closed door, hoping, yearning that she would return.

She didn’t.

“Love…you too, dear…”

I feel so…empty…

This isn’t what I thought it would be at all…

I reached out for her one night, hoping to feel her embrace.

To see her face.

To talk.

To love, as we had before.

To hear her laugh.

To see her smile.

I loved her.

I really did.

My pink hoof brushed against her green shoulders, but my wife turned away at my touch, drawing the covers up over her shoulders and continued sleeping, unaware of my presence.

I sighed and slipped out of the bed comforter. I swung my backlimbs over the edge of the bed and cradled my head in my forehooves.

There was a lone blunt lying on the sidetable, just beside the alarm clock and a very expensive lighter.

With unsteady hooves,, I reached out and cradled it in my grasp, staring down at nothing in particular.

I took a shuddering breath and flipped open the lighter, holding the flame up to the tip of the only thing that could deaden this felling inside.

And I got out of bed and left the room.

…So empty….

Carriages Bombs Homes Gray Books Sleep Disease Treasure Pictures Attics East Fights Work Music Sex Rats Walls Guitar Faces Rain Flowers Dogs Leisure Drinks Worms Trains Empty On Drugs Power Fuck Race Fly Applause Showers Sex War Sky Life Clothes Spaces Tours Pink Money Cigars Moon Ovens Love Drugs Bones Pony Goodbye Flesh Black Pink War Life Sight Roots Fame Love Mother Death Pigs Time Alcohol Sky Bricks Empty Drugs New Hunger Off Heart Diamonds Breathe Father Bury Music Worms Play Empty Radio Damage Love Wish Cold Fame Sunshine Lonely Music Pain Memorial Freedom Pills Lust Sun Echoes Fire Clouds Hello Goodbye

I have everything, yet nothing…

What shall I do now?

What can I do?

I was watching one of those new television sets.

They had come out a while, so I got a couple because I could. It was another thing to distract me.

Currently, there was some cooking show on. I didn't know what was on the other channels. I didn't particularly care. I just needed something on, something to fill me.

The mare onscreen was preparing breakfast or something. She had toasted bread and was now slathering marmalade on them.

My eyes traced over the screen, but I wasn't really paying much attention. My mind wasn't anywhere in particular.

I reached over to the side table and grabbed a container of pills. I didn't know what they were, only that they made me feel numb. I unscrewed the cap and popped a few, sighing in relief.

The bedroom door swung open.

“Pink?” She called, smiling brightly. “Pink, darling, you in here?”

I didn’t respond.

“Pink…” she started. She glanced at the television and back at me. She sighed and slid off her saddlebags throwing them to the floor. “Pink…” she said again, this time in a rather sultry tone.

I felt the bed sink and shift as she clambered on top of it. Slowly, the green unicorn entered my vision, flashing her eyes lustfully at me. With great care, she crawled in front of me and laid down across my hooves, stroking my forehoof.

“Piiiiink…” she moaned. With a final wiggle, she repositioned herself directly in my line of vision.

I blinked and tilted my head, looking around the sudden green obtrusion that blocked my view of the television.

Then the mare scooted over a bit, her face once more obstructing my vision. She looked at me and smiled. “Honey…” She glanced back at the screen and then to me again, trailing her hoof across my chest. “You want that TV…or me? Because...I certainly want you...”

I stared blankly at her for a few seconds.

Only a moment.

Then my gaze slid off my wife and back to the television just beyond her.

Don’t leave me, please…

I hesitated at the threshold to the living room.

She was in there, sprawled in her favorite chair, crying.

Though about what, I had no idea.

After a moment, I turned and walked away from the room.

From her.

I had a show to get ready for.

What happened…?

“…and then he said ‘Make her? No she went of her own accord!’”

He laughed.

So did she.

It was quiet for a moment.

“So…” A pause. “Hey, do you wanna, I dunno, go out for a beer sometime, or…?”

She giggled. “That sounds nice. Maybe sometime later this week? Thursday?”

“That sounds good.”

“Alright…. Well…. See ya.”

“See ya, Rêves.”

The door opened, illuminating our foyer and then closed again, shrouding the room in darkness again.

My wife came trotting into our living room, humming quietly to herself.

I spoke.

“So, who was that?”

Rêves stopped dead in her tracks, her tune ending abruptly. She looked around the room confusedly before spotting me lying on the couch.

She frowned slightly and trotted over, taking a place beside me.

“Oh, that was just Wedge. We work together.” Another giggle. “You two have met. Remember? At that fancy dress party?”

I grunted in confirmation.

She continued. “Anyway, he just invited me out to get a beer with him.”

I nodded slowly. “I heard. And you accepted.”

“Well yes.” She leaned over and stroked my mane in a futile attempt to keep it straight. “I get bored when you go off on tour, so I go out with friends sometimes. You know how it is.” She hugged me.

I nodded once more, swallowing a lump in my throat.

“Of course, dear.”

Where did we go…?

What happened...?

“So Pinky, ya excited for your Canterlot concert?”

I looked over at Short, who was trotting beside me, stuffed into a rather ill-fitting suit in a vain attempt to look presentable.

We were in the train station, getting ready to take the trip over to Canterlot for the first date in my much acclaimed Summer Sun Celebration Tour. A concert in the very capitol of Equestria filled with thousands of adoring fans. Just what I had wanted.

Around us, ponies were running to and fro, catching their own trains to wherever destination they were going to. I could feel the cacophony of noise beginning to bring on a headache. That would require some more relaxants once we got on the train.

“Pinky?” Short nudged me just enough to knock me off what little balance I had, sending me into the path of a passing young, purple unicorn mare. We connected and she was sent sprawling onto her haunches.

I froze up. I felt...unclean, unsure what to do. I had ran into this mare, and…shit…I had no idea what to do. I had her... whatever on me. I gaped at the mare and her owl. My right ear twitched. I blinked.

I felt a rush of air as Short leap into action beside me, helping the mare up and sending her along, before turning to me. “You okay, Pinky?”

I looked at him and tried to force a reassuring smile. “I’m fine.” I managed to choke out.

I wasn't sure I was.

He nodded in understanding and we continued walking. We trotted down the train terminal for a while in silence, killing time before our train arrived.

Then Short broke the silence.

“Listen Pinky, I’m worried for ya… You’re doin’ all these drugs, so much more than me, or the rest of the boys, and… it can’t be good for ya, ya know? You seem to eat, sleep, and breathe them. ‘Specially breathe them…” He hesitated for a moment. “Back there…with that mare? You're no’…on anythin’ now, are ya?”

“No…” I responded.

But apparently my expression betrayed me.

Abruptly, Short gripped me by my saddlebags and moved me over to a secluded part of the station.

“Pinky, I’m speakin’ here as your manager, and your best friend. Just… just try to cu’ back a little, all right?” He sighed. “I mean, what does Rêves think?”

“I-” I pushed my sunglasses up and rubbed my eyes with a free hoof. “I don’t think she likes it much either…” I sighed and looked at the pegasus beside me. “I’m… just so out of it when I get home, right? I- I don’t know, Short. I just don’t know…”

“Jus’ promise me, Pinky. Try to cu’ back on the drinkin’ and the drugs, alright? I feel bad now for gettin' you on 'em.”

“I don’t think I can, Short… I... Without them, I just feel so…” I trailed off, lost in thought.

“Yea? Feel so what…?” Short prompted me.

“…So empty…”

…I love you…

Author's Note

Based on “Empty Spaces” and “What Shall We Do Now?”

Chapter Eight: The Good Times?

Chapter Eight

The Good Times?

“So baby… How ‘bout it?” The unicorn mare smiled at me and caressed my face, giggling to herself. Slowly, she sidled closer and leaned on the wall next to me, placing her hoof on my jacket and slid it off, throwing it to the ground. She moved closer and I could feel her hot breath on my face as she panted in excitement.

Quietly, she whispered in my ear. “I can give you all you need, baby. These other girls? You don’t need ‘em.” With another giggle she moved in even closer and nibbled on my ear.

I recoiled at the bite and spun to face her, my hoof half raised in reflex. She looked back at me, her face frozen half in fright and half in amusement as I fought the reaction to hit her. Gradually, I lowered my arm, returning it to my side and forced myself to relax. She didn’t mean any harm. She giggled again and sauntered closer once more, flashing her practiced bedroom eyes at me. “Baby…” she drawled. “Let’s gooooo…. Surely you got someplace, bein’ a rock star an’ all?”

I turned and looked at her again, this time directly into her eyes. Her blue eyes. Blue like Rêves.

“Not you, hon.” I pushed her off of me, practically shoving her into the trashcans on the opposite side of the alley.

She managed to catch herself before she hit the floor though and glared at me as she readjusted the tattered, stained saddle she was wearing. She huffed and shook herself, as if trying to shake off excess filth. Like she wasn’t dirty already after a night of working the streets.

“Go on.” I shooed her. “Send the next one back while you’re at it.”

She looked at me indignantly and turned, trotting back around the corner. “Fine!” she called back over her shoulder. “I will! I don’t wanna go with you anyways! You rockers are bastards!”

“Oh, piss off, hon!” I yelled back. “Send the next one! Haven’t got all night!”

As she rounded the alley corner, I bent down and picked by discarded jacket off of the floor. That little bitch, throwing my jacket to the floor, who did she think she was?! And it was vintage leather too! I sighed and slung the coat over my shoulder and readjusted my position to one more comfortable. Leaning on walls, while intriguing and mysterious looking, was not designed for a pony form.

Just then, the sound of hooves clacking against the stone pavement reached my ears. I glanced up to see the black and white stripes of a zebra trotting towards me. I blinked in surprise, wary of the situation already. I never considered there being non-pony whores in Canterlot, though I suppose there was a certain exotic quality of having a zebra that was appealing. I had certainly never done a zebra before. Back home, the only girls you could find out on the streets at night were strictly ponies.

The zebra dipped her head in acknowledgement as she approached. “Greetings, rock star Pink Floyd, I understand that you are looking for a good time? Trust me, out of all others here, I can satisfy anything your heart and body desires...”

I chuckled. “Yes, that’s what the last mare assured me of. And she was much more…forward than you are, hon.”

The zebra looked at me devilishly. “I am not so quiet in bed, I assure you. Now, do you want to go have some fun?”

I looked at the zebra thoughtfully. “How much?”

She smiled. “Oh, for you Pink Floyd, I’ll charge none. I only ask that you give me your autograph. That would suffice.”

My face fell at her words. “Leave.” I growled. “Send the next girl out.”

The zebra bitch balked. “W- Why? What did I say?”

I grunted. “I don’t want another fan obsessing over me while we’re going at it. I’ve had far too many nights like that these past few months.” I chuckled darkly and gestured for the zebra to leave. “If you had kept your mouth shut, we might’ve had something here. Now go.”

With a snort of anger, the mare turned and briskly trotted off without as much as a backwards glance. As she rounded the corner, she stopped and murmured something to the next working girl in line before disappearing from sight.

Well at least she left with more dignity than the last four had.

There was a brief period of silence before the next prostitute rounded the corner. Only it was immediately obvious it wasn’t a pony. Or anything remarkably similar to one.

It’s amazing how different the sound of griffon talons on cobblestone differ from hooves. It’s more of a skittering sound than the normal clop of a pony.

And the next moment, my fears were confirmed as the hulking shape of the griffon rounded the corner. My heart skipped a beat. A griffon? Oh, dear Celestia, not a griffon…

In the distant recesses of my mind, I heard the resounding smack of a ruler on a desk and a shrill, reprimanding voice shrieking at us. I shuddered and closed my eyes, and hoped the griffon would leave.

And how would that even work? A griffon and a pony? I could see a zebra, but a griffon…?

I felt the sharp poke of a talon tap me on the shoulder. I winced and cracked open an eyelid to see the griffon watching me with mild disinterest.

When she saw my eyes open, she chuckled. “Ah. The pony lives. So you’re the one who’s been goin’ through the city’s whores like nothin’, huh? I guess what they say is true about ‘Sex, drugs and rock n’ roll,’ huh?” She chuckled, her beak clattering together. “Well, you wanna go then?”

I whimpered and vigorously shook my head. “No!” I half cried. “No! No griffons! Not now, not ever! Leave! And send the next bitch out after you.”

The griffon blinked and for a split second her fist balled up in anger. She lifted her fist menacingly at me, and then stopped. She stood there for a moment, shaking, obviously at battle with herself over whether or not to punch my face in.

I really hoped she wouldn’t.

I rather liked my face.

But the griffon took a deep breath and unclenched her hand, letting it swing loosely by her side. She breathed out again and smoothed down a few wayward feathers on her chest. She scoffed and turned away. “Whatever dweeb. Don’t like doing it with you lame ponies either.”

With those words, the griffon turned and walked away, vanishing around the corner where there was still a line composed of most of the hookers in the city waiting to petition for me. I paid them nicely.

I breathed out a sigh a relief I hadn’t known I was holding as the griffon departed. Of all the griffons I had met, which I could now count with my two front hooves, they both seemed to have anger problems. Must be a heredity trait, I figured. Sir and that griffon whore certainly hadn’t built a very good name for their species.

I waited a few more moments as the next mare approached the alleyway. Eventually, the very satisfying sound of hoofsteps on the cobblestone reached my ears. At least the next female was equine in nature. Perhaps I should have specified that.

As the next female stepped out of the shadows of the alley, I chuckled with interest. At least, I believed it was female. I didn’t know exactly what I was looking at. The creature was certainly pony-shaped, but more bug than equine. A black, shiny carapace covered her body, translucent wings hung by her sides, and a crooked horn adorned her head.

“Hey there big boy,” she chirped as she stepped closer, revealing small fangs, “I hear you’re looking for a dirty woman, Floyd. You know I can give you that, and so much more.”

I nodded in confirmation and gestured for her to continue her audition.

She suddenly stopped her approach a few feet away, and regarded me with a mixture of curiosity and hunger. “I can feel the love in you, Floyd. You’ve bottled it up, chained it and haven’t released it in a very, very long time. It’s almost sad that a stallion of your…position should contain so much.” She sighed and moved closer, her bug-like wings flittering as she spoke. “It isn’t healthy Floyd, to lock up love like that. I can feel it close to overflowing.”

She paused and gazed up into my eyes. “Though I suppose you know that, don’t you? Why else would you be here, but to guiltlessly let out these pent up feelings?” She smiled and began ran a hole marred hoof through my mane. “I can help with that Floyd. You know I can.”

I shivered at the female’s words and nodded tensely.

“But why is it you lock your love away so?” she crooned as she continued to stroke my mane. “Trouble with the Missus?” Her eyes flashed and a tingling sensation burned in the pit of my stomach. The changeling blinked, her eyes returning to normal. “No. That’s not it, is it? No, it’s much deeper isn’t it?”

The changeling whore smirked and moved away. She concentrated for a moment and then lit up in a flash of light. I averted my gaze downwards and when I looked back up to see a off-white unicorn staring at me lustfully.

“Tell me Floyd,” she said as she changed appearance into a gray pegasus, “what are your passions,” she turned into a zebra, “your fantasies,” a brown earth pony, “your dreams? I can make them come true. I can be anypony or anything that your little heart requires.” Another flash of light and the changeling was once again standing in front of me.

I looked at her with a slight air of superiority. “How about you be yourself and we go sort out the problems you say I have?”

The creature blinked in confusion and then a grin slowly spread across her face. “I think we can do that, Floyd. I do indeed…”

~-~-~-~-~

The next afternoon I was alone again.

I awoke around noontime as the sun’s rays began to filter through my bedroom window, shining bright light directly at my eyes. Groggily, I sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, making sure to turn my head away from the sun’s light.

It was then that I noticed the empty space beside me on the bed.

I sighed and stared at the spot the changeling had occupied the previous night after she had finished with her job. She had fallen asleep in the bed, tired from the night’s activities. Part of me hoped that she would still be there in the morning.

But she had left me, sneaking away sometime in the night.

I felt so alone.

I grabbed a pillow and hugged it close to my chest, hoping that it would help chase away the coldness I felt inside.

It didn’t.

And yet I held onto it anyway, stroking it absentmindedly as I stared off into space. Gradually, I began to rock back and forth. I glanced back at the window and at the Canterlot skyline outside. My hotel room looked out high over the surrounding countryside. I saw a small village nestled on the outskirts of a grand forest that seemed to stretch for miles.

They had given me the nicest room in the most expensive hotel in the city.

Anything for the star, right?

I chuckled and unclenched the pillow, letting it fall into my lap. What was I doing? I was loved by thousands of ponies, not to mention my wife and friends, but… I just couldn’t explain why this uncertain feeling was here in my brain. I had no reason to feel like this.

I’m Pink Floyd, one of the most well-known musicians Equestria has seen! My songs have garnered an audience of millions as my songs lifted their spirits after the war. My ballads have soothed their aching hearts and touched even the coldest codgers. I’ve produced dance songs that have defined a generation and I’ve even catered to the children! I had it all. The dream job. The money. A loving wife. Fame. Love.

So what was missing?

I realized that I didn’t know.

I didn’t know what was wrong with me.

The whore had said something last night… Something about love…

Something about…

Something…

I didn’t know.

I decided to go for a walk, hoping that the clear air would ease my worried mind.

With a lethargic sigh, I swung out of bed and walked into the bathroom. I stared at my reflection, disheveled and pallid, for a few moments, before washing my face in the sink. There was a small pill container sitting out on the counter. I stared at it too and then wrangled open the top and shook a few pills into my hoof. I allowed myself a small smile and took them all with a glass of water. It only dulled some of the pain that I felt.

Feeling refreshed, I walked out into the main room of the penthouse room and flung on my jacket. I took one last look at the room, at the view outside the ceiling-to-floor windows, at the private swimming pool out on the balcony, and switched off the lights.

I took the elevator down to the lobby and immediately felt intimidated by the sheer volume of ponies milling around. I gulped and stepped out of the elevator as several others pushed past me to get on.

With trepidation, I slunk around the edge of the crowd, hoping no one would notice me, hoping no one accidently bumped into me. I didn't think I could handle that right now.

But I made it through with little incident. I exited the hotel and made my way down the street. It was late afternoon, so not many ponies were out, for which I was grateful, and those that were seemed to want to avoid the grumpy-looking, unkempt pink stallion walking past them. I didn't mind. I didn’t want to interact with them either.

And still that empty feeling lingered. I couldn’t understand it, but lately it seemed to gnaw at me all the more.

So I did the only thing I could. Sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll, and some more drugs, and some alcohol. I kept pouring things, vices, into the emptiness, but it was never filled.

My hooves felt heavy as I walked further and further down the street. Like everything I dumped into my body was settling there, but not beyond.

I passed by some wall plastered with posters of all shapes and sizes. Something caught my attention, and I froze and went back to look at it. There, in the middle of the wall, unblemished by any other notice, was a large poster for the concert I was playing at that night.

I was standing on my rear hooves, singing into a microphone with a fervor I hadn’t had in a long time. Large letters across the top proclaimed, 'PINK FLOYD’S 1000TH SUMMER SUN CELEBRATION TOUR!' and below that, ‘HIS FIRST STOP - TONIGHT IN CANTERLOT!’, and then some other tour dates and destinations at the bottom.

I stared at that stallion on the poster for some time, no particular emotion coming to me.

I blinked

And before I knew what I was doing, I had gripped the poster and tore it from the wall. I let it fall to the ground and looked back at what remained. The only part that hadn’t torn off was a corner with the word ‘PINK’ emblazoned at the very top.

That seemed satisfactory. Pink was my name, after all.

I continued down the sidewalk, my mind not growing any clearer, but my steps growing ever more haggard. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and the pills I popped didn’t have much of an effect.

Eventually I came to a stop on some street corner, unable to move any further. Despite everything, I was still so cold, so empty. I wished I had brought my sunglasses, because the world was too bright, too cheery. Its colors were overwhelming.

The building I leaning on was some hardware store, judging by the ad for hammers in its window. But it was closed. A different sign said so. I wasn’t sure, so I tugged on the doors, but they were locked.

I stayed there for a little while longer, watching as the world moved around me. There was some mare carrying groceries home, struggling under all the weight. Behind her was some posh-looking stallion with his nose stuck so far in the air it seemed he was bird watching. From the opposite way, some unicorn lady was chatting with her friend about the latest fashion trends. Then, there was a young couple, a unicorn mare and an earth pony stallion, so close together that it wasn’t too hard to tell they were in love.

They all seemed so happy, in their own rights, so full. And I wasn’t.

But my thoughts kept flashing back to the couple and their love. I thought of my own wife back home, of how much she loved me, of how much she cared. She never failed to make me happy.

So maybe she could help now. Yes, maybe Rêves could. Of course he would help. She loved me. My wife loved me. She could take away this pain I’ve felt for so long. Just had to ask, that’s all. She could help me fill the emptiness.

I rushed back in the direction of the hotel, planning to call her on the phone. I would call, and she would pick up and all my worries would vanish.

But as I got to the entrance, I remembered the throng of ponies inside and wavered on the sidewalk outside, debating on whether or not to go inside. The doorstallion looked at me curiously, but didn’t say anything.

I couldn’t, I decided. I couldn’t work up the nerve to brave the crowd inside again. Even the idea of so many bodies sent shivers down my spine.

So I asked the doorstallion if there were any payphones around, and as luck would have it, there was one located inside the alleyway next to the hotel. I hurried there and found it next to some dumpsters and trash, but at the moment, I didn’t care.

Without any money on me, I dialed the operator as fast as I could, intending to place a collect call.

The operator picked up the phone on the fourth ring. “Hello?” said an overly enthusiastic female voice on the other side.

“Hey, yeah, I would like to place a collect call to my wife.”

“Certainly sir, just need your name and the number.”

I hesitated for a moment. I gave her my name and number.

“Calling now, Mr. Pink. Just a moment.”

I waited eagerly as the operator dialed Rêves. The phone rang on the other end once.

Twice.

Then I heard the telltale click of the receiver being lifted. I smiled. After so long, I knew Rêves would help me. She loved me dearly, and I loved her back just the same.

“Hello…?” said the voice on the other end. But… It wasn’t the voice of my wife. It was a male’s voice. One I had heard just before I left to go on tour when he had asked Rêves out for a drink. I felt my previous excitement vanish and begin to be replaced by something altogether more volatile.

The operator began talking again, this time to the other stallion. “Yes, this is a collect call for Mrs. Rêves from Mr. Pink. Will you accept the charges from Canterlot?”

There was silence on the other end for a moment, as if the stallion who picked up was unsure what to do.

But then, he hung up the phone and the connection was terminated.

“Oh!” exclaimed the operator. “He hung up! That’s your residence right? I wonder why he hung up. Is there supposed to be somepony else there besides your wife to answer?”

I felt my heart flutter in my chest. There shouldn’t have been anypony there besides her to answer. And certainly not any stallions!

What the hell was going on over there?

I exhaled a shaky breath, thoughts of infidelity and betrayal floating through my mind, my original purpose for the call completely forgotten.

“Sir?” interjected the operator politely as she could. “Would you like me to try again, sir?”

I gulped. “Yes please…”

“Certainly. Dialing again…”

I swayed back and forth as the phone rang. If she was cheating on me…

Finally, my house phone was picked up.

“Hello?” said the same husky, masculine voice.

“This is Canterlot calling, are we reaching-“

The receiver clicked once and the other side went quiet more as the stallion abruptly ended the call.

But not before I heard a rather feminine voice in the background. The rather familiar sound of my wife… calling the stallion to come back to bed.

And that was it.

My wife was cheating on me.

I felt the world go quiet as my mind processed that thought. Rêves, the mare I had loved and trusted for so long, had left me and run off with another stallion. It seemed unreal, but that was the only possible explanation.

The chipper voice of the telephone operator interrupted my thoughts. “See, he keeps hanging up, and it’s a man answering, not your wife…”

The payphone fell from my grasp and clattered against the wall, cutting off the rest of the mare’s sentence.

Slowly, I sunk to the ground, my eyes beginning to brim with tears as the realization fully hit me. My wife, Rêves, the love of my life, cheated on me.

For no reason.

Had she not been happy? I tried to remember the past few days preceding the day I left. Hadn’t she been happy? Hadn’t she been happy with me?

Hazy memories of the days before my tour started began to rise to the forefront of my brain.

There was one day she said she loved me, But… then she left soon after that. Something about… a job? I didn’t know. The memory seemed so faint, as I was watching from miles away.

She seemed happy then. I was sure she was happy. But was it love for me, or joy that I was soon to leave so she and her lover could spend some quality time?

And then, later, when she was talking to that one stallion at the front doorstep, basically flaunting their secret affair in my face. ‘Go out for a beer sometime.’ Ha! I’ve never heard that euphemism before! How long had that affair been going on? Weeks? Months? I hadn’t a fucking clue. Hadn’t a fucking clue…

Fuck, how could I have been so blind?! Not to see what was directly in front of my own eyes?

Mother had been right. She did bring heartache and pain. My wife, if I could even call her that now, used me for her own personal satisfaction! Was anything we had special? Or was it like Mother said, and Rêves had been going behind my back since we were mere foals?

That lying two-faced bitch! What a fucking idiot I had been to ever believe a word that cruel example of a mare had ever said to me.

“…Fucking bitch…” I muttered.

“Excuse me!?”

I glanced up at the voice to see a young, green colored pegasus staring at me from the mouth of the alleyway. The other ponies going about their business just behind her paid the mare no mind.

“Excuse me,” she began again, though rather nervously “What did you say to me?”

I didn’t answer the mare’s question, hardly trusting my brain to form a coherent answer. My eyes, however, studied the mare in earnest, following every curve of her face and her auburn mane before moving down her body and observed her shapely form.

I blinked and smiled apologetically, slipping into a mask of composure. “Sorry… Wasn’t talking to you…” I tore my gaze away from the pegasus and stared at my hooves blankly.

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll leave then, shall I?” She smiled and began to turn away, but then froze as if she just realized something. “Hang on…” the mare glanced back at me and took a step closer. “Aren’t you… Pink Floyd?”

I looked up at her, my face expressionless. “So what if I am? What’s it to you, huh?”

He eyes shifted around nervously as she took another step forward into the alley. “Well, I’m a big fan of his, and… Well… I’ve always dreamed of meeting him…”

“That’s nice, hon.”

She inched closer and glanced at my half-red, half-white record cutie mark. “You are him!” she exclaimed, practically jumping with excitement. “

“Am I?”

The mare’s face fell, suddenly adopting a more serious expression. “Yes. You are! Oh my gosh, what are you doing out here?” she gestured to the alley. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your concert this evening or something?”

I shrugged and didn’t answer. What was there to say? That my wife left me and I was crying to myself in this alleyway?

The green mare bit her lip and teetered slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure. She watched me uncertainly and I met her stare with an almost venomous look of my own that she completely failed to notice.

I desperately wanted this pegasus to leave me to my thoughts. Already her constant parade of questions had annoyed me to no end. Had this mare no sense of observation? Here I was, hunched over in an alleyway, obviously distraught and all she could ask me if I was who I was! As if my face wasn’t instantly recognizable!

This mare had to be daft, and now it seemed that she was going to ask something else. No doubt asking me to autograph something of her or something equally pointless. Nothing turned me off more than when they wanted me to sign something.

Still, all things considered though, her interruption did take my mind off of the past few minutes. Maybe this mare was worth something after all.

“Hey,” she burst out, finally concluding whatever inner struggle she had been going through, “Do… Do you suppose you could, maybe, autograph something of mine…?”

I sighed. Then again, perhaps she was like any other groupie.

“Look, hon... I’m…”

“Oh, please Pink Floyd! Please!”

I groaned and rubbed my temples, trying to decide what to do.

On one hoof, I really didn’t want any distractions at the moment. But on the other hoof, any distractions would be welcome. And on a third hoof, she was a fan.

Oh, what the hell.

Anything for the fans.

“Tell you what,” I began, “Let’s go up to my room and we’ll find something for you there, alright, hon?” The mare squealed in delight and hovered slightly off the ground. I forced a smile. "And just call me Pink. Pink Floyd's just a stage name, after all."

I placed a hoof on the wall behind me to steady myself as I stood. I glanced up at the hotel wall I had been leaning against.

The bricks that made up the wall were a curious thing. The foundation of it, especially the first few feet, was filthy. Muck and grime accumulated from years of its position bordering an alley coated the first few bricks, truly showing their age. But as you continued up the wall, the bricks began to look crisper and incredibly well maintained. In fact, as you neared the roofline, the bricks looked practically brand new, and fresh laid.

Though I knew even those bricks would become weathered with age as time went on.

Shaking my head, I tore my eyes away from the wall and back towards the green pegasus that was waiting anxiously to go up to my room.

And who knows? Maybe this mare would help take my mind off my wife. Maybe she would help.

Maybe.

Author's Note

Based on “Young Lust”

Chapter Nine: A Passing Phase

Chapter Nine

A Passing Phase

I opened the door to my hotel room and led the green mare from the alleyway inside.

Upon seeing the room, she immediately gasped in what could only be amazement as she took in the suite I was living in during my stay in Canterlot. Her face practically lit up as she admired the luxuriousness of the penthouse room. “Oh Celestia!” she squealed in delight as I shut the front door. “What a fabulous room!”

I didn’t respond to her compliment. In truth, I barely heard the young mare as she looked about the room, marveling over my worldly possessions. My mind was still replaying the revealing telephone conversation from just moments prior. The conversation that exposed my former wife for the lying, cheating bitch she was.

I grimaced at the memory and turned my attention instead to the groupie as she flitted about the room drinking in the contents of my fame and fortune. And she had only seen the living room so far.

Eventually, her eyes fell on the row of guitars I brought with me for the tour. “Wow…” she said, breathlessly, “Are all these your guitars?”

Nodding absentmindedly in response, I trotted past her and collapsed in the small armchair the hotel had provided. I stared blankly out the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined one side of the room as the evening quickly turned to night. One by one, I watched as the multitudes of buildings below my room came to life in the coming gloom as lights inside were switched on.

The night became lit with a soft, welcoming yellow glow that seemed unbecoming for a city filed with corrupt.

The mare spoke again, drawing my attention away from the fledgling night. “Wow, this place is bigger than my apartment! If this is how you live normally, I can see how much you must love it…”

And then… There was that statement. Did I truly love this life? Was everything really worth the fame and fortune?

Or was I doomed to live my life as the cruel hoof of fate continued to pile on more and more troubles? Or would there be a time where it all became too much?

Regardless, there would be a time when I faded into obscurity as my popularity dropped, just as everything in life did. It was inevitable. Love, fame, money, and even the structure of society decays as the unstoppable flow of time marches on.

So who was to say that my former wife’s betrayal was unavoidable?

The pegasus mare was suddenly in front of my face, watching me expectantly with her deep violet eyes. She smiled and I blinked. “…Erm, can I get a glass of water, Pink?”

I didn’t respond, and she frowned momentarily before walking away to the kitchen. The sound of a faucet being turned on reached my ears and the mare’s voice echoed out from the kitchen. “You want some, huh?”

This wasn’t my fault, what that bitch of a mare did. Whatever love we felt when we younger was lost as time went on, akin to the forces of nature. How long was it since she felt something for me? Had she ever? Or was our entire relationship a sham and means to further her reputation?

That is not to say her betrayal didn’t hurt.

It did.

My heart felt as though somepony had ripped right out of my ribcage and thrown it on the floor and stomped on ‘till it burst. She led me on, and I let myself fall in love with her.

But was I to blame?

No I was not. Nothing that has ever happened to me has ever been my fault, and Rêves’ unfaithfulness was no different. I’ve never been at fault.

The past few minutes from that moment over the phone I heard her calling her lover back to bed to now went by in a blur. It was all I could do to not break down and cry my heart out. It was all I could do to try and ignore the pain I felt. To try and hide away where I couldn’t be bothered by it anymore. To lock it up.

A voice spoke up from the vicinity of my bathroom, bringing me back to reality. The mare’s voice. “Oh wow, just look at this tub!” The groupie poked her head out of the doorway, her voice taking on a suggestive tone. “Hey Pink, you wanna take a baaath? And maybe later, we can do a little something else…”

And now there’s this mare. This ditzy, infatuated groupie who, for whatever reason my emotionally torn mind thought of, I invited up into my room. Why did I think that was a good idea again? To distract me from the pain? To ease the ramifications of my adulterous wife’s affair? What could this mare do for me?

“Piiiiiink!” she called, still in the bathroom, “You coming?”

I reached forwards and grabbed the television remote, turning the set on, hoping to distract myself from the insufferable mare. The box in front of me clicked and buzzed as the machine slowly warmed up. After a second, the TV flashed on, showering the room in light and sound.

One of the ponies on screen frowned and backed away, dipping his head respectively towards another character off screen. “I’m sorry sir,” he said, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The shot cut to a different, older stallion dressed in royal armor, who shook his head, chuckling to himself. “It’s fine. Just let me know when you’re entering a room.”

The other pony smiled apologetically and reentered the room. “Yes sir! Now, I was wondering about…”

Just then, the green mare once again positioned herself directly in front of my line of vision, her eyes glowing softly in the fading light. She glanced at the TV set behind her and back at me, chewing on her lip. “Hey, what are you watching?”

I leaned to the side, trying to continue watching the show despite the pony sitting in front of the set.

The mare sighed and her ears flattened in disappointment. “It’s good, huh? Don’t let me keep you, I guess…” She moved aside, and trotted off somewhere else in the room despondently.

With her finally gone, I settled back in my original position and my eyes drifted back to the television. The wizened old pony in the film smiled. “Yes, I’ll just have to find out from Mrs. Craft what time she wants to meet us, for her main…”

The mare spoke up again from somewhere outside my vision. “So this it then? The life of a rock star involves sitting and watching old movies, huh?” She crept up beside my chair, watching me with mild interest. “Thought it’d be more than this…”

I scowled and refocused my attention on the television.

I didn’t need this. Who did this mare think she was, waltzing in here and criticizing me? That was something to be said of this young generation. They were rude, ignorant and so caught up with themselves, that they hardly had the time for anything else.

I didn’t live up to her expectations. I didn’t give her what she wanted.

I didn’t love her enough, even though that’s all I ever did.

And for what? To be shunned and left alone without even a goodbye.

Oh, Rêves…

The young pony on television exited his superior’s room when the voice of the other pony called out to him. “If you’ll just let me know as soon as you can…”

Green flashed in front of my vision. “Hello?” said the green mare who was crouched at the arm of my chair as she waved another hoof in front of my face. “Is there anypony in there?”

My eyes widened in surprise and I sharply turned my head to face the pegasus groupie beside me. I stared at her for a moment, taking in her features once more. Green coat, flaming red hair, deep blue eyes and… A horn?

Rêves?

Shakily, I lifted a hoof and stroked the mare’s face, feeling the individual strands of hair underneath my hoof and the curve of her face. At first, the mare’s eyes watched me in confusion, but relaxed as I continued caressing her. She nickered and leaned in closer.

I copied her lean, also moving in nearer and inhaled deeply, taking in her unique aroma that was as mysterious and foreign as they day we first met. I allowed myself a small smile and the mare smiled back, visibly content with the situation.

My hoof moved up her face, brushing a few strands of fire colored hair away from her eyes. The mare giggled and her smile grew even wider. I opened my mouth to speak to my wife, but stopped mid action.

There was something off about this, wasn’t there?

My hoof fell from her face, falling limply in my lap and the mare’s brow knitted in confusion at the sudden decline in activity.

I looked at the unicorn mare with the red mane. “Rêves? What’s going on?” My voice came out in a whisper.

I blinked.

The green pegasus groupie looked back at me, noticeably perplexed. “Who’s Reves, Pink?” She placed a hoof on my forearm.

I gulped and turned away, simultaneously sliding her hoof away.

A character in the film on the television spoke up. “I don’t understand.”

The groupie and I both glanced at the television for a moment in surprise. Then, the mare placed a hoof on my shoulder and nuzzled into my neck. She sighed in content.

I grunted and scooted out of her embrace. She looked up at me, though I kept my attention firmly on the television.

“Hello? Are you feeling okay, Pink?” she asked.

Yes.

Perfectly fine, dear.

A tear slid down my cheek.

I felt myself grow annoyed as the day’s overall injustice began to well up in my mind. I felt my pains and fears breaching the dam I held them back with. I felt the love struggling to break out from the part of my mind I locked it away in.

But most of all, the anger I kept in the recesses of my mind trickled out, slowly building to a tidal wave. My mouth suddenly became dry and one of my forehooves twitched.

I felt one of my turns coming on.

The television’s volume fell away as my long buried feelings flooded my mind. My mind was filled with a maddening buzzing noise as I resisted the tide of emotions from escaping. I felt my extremities lose their warmth and began to spasm more and more and more. My muscles tensed in a vain attempt to control the new development.

The mare spoke up again, a touch of concern creeping into her voice. “Pink, are you alright?” She laid a hoof on my vibrating arm once more.

My jaw clenched tight as my body began to shudder.

Of course I’m fine.

I’m always fine.

Another tear fell from my eye.

Letting loose a primal bellow, I finally relinquished the hold on my emotions, letting everything loose.

My backhooves kicked out, smashing into the television, knocking it backwards onto the floor.

As I propelled myself from my chair, the pegasus groupie fell backwards in surprise, letting out a small squeak of fright.

Standing up now, I immediately grabbed the nearest object to me and threw it at the wall, shattering it into pieces.

With another yell, I stamped a hoof into a coffee table, sending shards of glass flying out in all directions. Blood dripped down my hoof where it connected with the glass as I tossed the now empty table frame on its end.

I kicked out behind me, bucking the chair I previously occupied, sending it tumbling over. I ran over to another table and snatched the lamp sitting on it. I smashed the lamp down into the table, shattering the glass tabletop and repeated the process with a mirror hanging on the wall just behind it.

The mare shrieked again and I spun around to face her, grinning madly. She glanced at me and stumbled backwards in terror, her eyes wide. I took a step towards her. “So you wanna know more about me, hon? Huh?” I asked her, a bark of laughter escaping my lips. “You like my guitars, do you?” I took another step forward. “Well, run to the bedroom and on the left you’ll find my favorite axe! Ha!”

The mare whimpered and backed away from my approach. I picked one of the numerous guitars she was admiring before off its stand, dragging it along the ground as I plodded forward. “Or maybe you want a closer look at this one?” My face widened in another smile. “Now hon, don’t look so frightened.” I chuckled. “This is just a passing phase, just one of my bad days!”

I flung the guitar at the mare, who ducked and scampered away, screaming in alarm. “Your precious Pink,” will be back shortly!” I yelled after her as she disappeared from sight.

From there, I picked up another guitar and smashed it into the wall, leaving a sizable hole in the drywall and snapping the guitar’s body from the neck. I kicked over the rest of the guitars, scattering them across the floor. I grasped a different one and flung it into another mirror, filling the room with the sound of glass shattering.

With a shout of rage, my adrenaline fueled rampage carried me over to a food service cart piled high with food. I snatched a wine bottle off it and threw it at the wall, staining the crisp white paint with red liquid. I swept the rest of the cart’s contents to the ground, covering the carpet in a menagerie of foodstuffs and overturned the cart itself, sending it flying.

Staggering slightly, the next thing that caught my eye was the mini bar in the corner of the room. I galloped over there and picked up a barstool, smashing it into the bottles of alcohol that littered the counter. I held the stool over my head and smashed it into the ground, splintering the wood apart and adding to the debris. With that done, I pushed hard on the bar itself, causing it to teeter for a moment before toppling to the ground.

The mare’s shriek filled the air again as the bar crashed to the floor mere inches from her, revealing her hiding spot. She looked up from between her hooves at me and scrambled away into my bedroom. The unmistakable musky scent of fear and piss hung heavily in the air.

I picked up another barstool and hurled it in her direction where it hit a painting and cracking just as she passed by. I growled in aggravation and ripped the painting off the wall and stomped it underhoof.

I followed her into my room where she was clambering onto my bed in effort to get away from me. When she noticed I entered after her, she pressed further back into the bed’s headboard in an almost futile attempt to hide.

By now though, my vision was filled with red and I passed over the mare in favor of destroying the room. I went into a frenzy and tore apart my bedroom. I ripped the curtains from the windows and ripped the room’s phone right from the wall, sending plaster across the floor.

I tore off my closet doors, using the boards to smash the furniture. I slammed another television into the ground with the aid of a lamp and haphazardly trashed the rest of the room.

Finally, I bounded onto my bed where I tore the sheets off and threw the pillows to the floor. The mare shrieked and slid off, making an escape into the other room.

“What’s the matter, hon?!” I called after her, “Thought ya wanted to get between the sheets?! Or did you fake that too?!”

I ran back out into the living room and continued my destructive rampage, hardly paying attention to the groupie who was continually trying to escape my destructive impulses. I upturned the furniture and kicked holes into the walls. I ripped paintings and mirrors from the wall, obliterating their contents.

Eventually, I staggered over to the windows and tore the blinds off, revealing the moon lit city below. I gazed out over the city for a moment, the twinkling lights below transfixing me.

A sob from my left drew my attention. I turned and saw the green mare huddled amongst shattered glass and the remnants of a table, sobbing into her arms. Her face was streaked with tears and her green coat was stained by streaks of dirt and blood. Obviously this whole thing was too much for her innocent little mind.

I took a step towards her, the glass crunching under my hoof, alerting her to my presence.

She glanced up at me and her eyes went wide. “S-Stay away...” she managed to choke out between sobs.

I smirked, but didn’t halt my approach. “Why? I thought you wanted to get together, hon?” The mare choked back another sob and vigorously shook her head. I scoffed. “Come on darling, would ya like to watch TV? Or… Or do ya want something to eat? You did earlier.”

The mare only began to cry again and shook her head once more. I quickly felt myself grow aggravated with her again. “What then?!” I yelled at her, “What do ya want, huh? Do you think it’s time I stopped?!”

Angrily, I lashed out at the mare, backhoofing her across her face. The force of the slap sent her sprawling, slamming her head into the wall. She groaned clutched her head where it contacted the wall. Her hooves came away soaked in blood. I sneered and turned away from her.

My eyes then fell on the TV that I first kicked over, which was still playing its show, despite its previous abuse. I grabbed it and lugged it over to the full length window. With a grunt, I lifted it over my head and threw it through the glass.

The young pony from the beginning of the television program smiled as the box he was in flew through the window. Another stallion, a pegasus, approached him, pointing a spear at his head. The first pony gulped audibly and spoke. “Well, I guess this is it, isn’t-” Then the cord snapped taunt as the TV hit the window and the box went black just as the pegasus in the show jabbed forward with the spear.

The window shattered as the heavy, defenestrated television spiraled through it. The glass exploded outwards into the night, each shard glistening in the moonlight.

I clambered to the destroyed window and leaned out, wrapping a hoof around the window frame for support. As the television fell, I bellowed into the night, screaming away the remainder of my pent up emotions. “TAKE THAT, FUCKERS!” My voice pierced through the otherwise peaceful night.

I swung wildly from the window, half of my body supported by air. A stream of blood gushed down my hoof where it gripped the window, shards of jagged glass digging into my soft skin. I hardly felt the pain though. The adrenaline rush I was experiencing numbed the injury to where it was almost comfortably warm. I let lose another shout that resounded throughout Canterlot.

Down below, the TV finally slammed into the ground, exploding in a shower of sparks and parts. Drops of dark red blood dripped down after it, splattering on the pavement.

As I hung half out the window, I glanced back at the groupie, who was sluggishly crawling out from her corner, a trail of blood following her path. “Oi hon, would you like to learn to fly?!” I asked her, gesturing towards the window, “Or better yet, would you like to see me fucking try?” I cackled and loosened my grip on the side of the window frame, but not enough to fall out.

I turned back towards the outside, breathing in the night air. Wind whistled by me, causing my entire body to sway. It was such an indescribable feeling, being so high up above the city and its snooty, philosophunculistic, idiotic bastards, that I began to laugh loudly into the night.

Eventually, as my mirth died out and I heard a commotion back in the hotel room behind me. I turned to see the groupie take off as fast as she could towards the front door. I shouted in alarm, but the green pegasus never faltered or looked back. I took a step back into the room, yelling at her to stop.

She reached the door as I was halfway across the room. She fumbled with the handle for a moment, her hooves clumsily attempting to turn the knob, before successfully unlatching the door.

With a small glance over her shoulder, the mare took flight and raced down the hallway erratically, desperate to leave the room. A trickle of blood trailed after her, staining the carpet as she frantically made her escape.

I made it to the door and ran out into the hall, stumbling into the opposite wall, leaving a streak of blood on the wallpaper from my hoof. I watched the mare recede down the hallway and turn the corner, disappearing from my life, just as everything else did.

I slid to the floor, my eyes sunken and forlorn.

She left me.

She left me…

I glanced down at my blood soaked hoof, noticing it for the first time and wiped it off on the carpet, cringing slightly at the pain. I looked back towards the end of the hallway, with the hope that maybe the mare would come back.

But she didn’t.

They never did…

I yelled down the hallway at the mare who left my life, hoping she would return. I yelled for the hope that anypony would return. Maybe somepony would answer. Maybe somepony would come back, for once. Maybe somepony wouldn’t leave me alone.

But there was only silence.

I sighed and another tear slid down my face, mixing in with the small pool of blood that was forming on the carpet. “Why are you running away…?”

And all across the city of Canterlot, the ponies went on with their night, completely unaware of the commotion in the penthouse of a luxurious hotel nestled in the heart of the city.

Author's Note

Based on “One Of My Turns”

Chapter Ten: The End of the Road

Chapter Ten

The End of the Road

I breathed in.

I breathed out.

I breathed in.

I breathed out.

I let the cold pool water wash over me.

How could she have left me? After everything I’ve done? After all we’ve been through? After every flower I’ve sent and every tender word I've said? How could she just leave? How?

I breathed in.

The blue water I was floating in slowly turned a crimson red.

I breathed out.

Ooh, babe, I need you. I need you so, so much. I love you. Don’t you leave me now. Like everypony else has left me.

Oh, Rêves. Oh, babe.

You’re the most wonderful, beautiful, amazing bitch I’ve ever had the displeasure to meet. How could she? How could she run off with some stallion and leave me? I know how. She was a mongrel. A loose bitch who had probably been with countless stallions behind my back all these years. I can see it now. Ha, how was I so blind!?

Oh fuck, I despise her. And the stallion she went off with, for that matter. How I wanted nothing else then to beat the living shit out of the two of them. To watch as their lives slowly drained from their ravaged bodies as retribution for causing so much pain.

I was the victim here! I’ve done nothing but try to be the best I can be, and this is how that sniveling little bitch of a mare repays me?! By fucking some stallion behind my back?

I swear to the deepest pits of Tartarus that when I get home, I will kiss her deeply and try to figure out what drove her away from me. I wanted her to love me back once again.

The deep, jagged cut on my right forehoof stung in the chlorine heavy water.

I breathed in.

I wanted, no, needed that glorious green unicorn mare with flaming red hair like I’ve never needed anything else. She was the last thing in my life I had that hadn’t been ripped away by the cruel hooves of life.

I loved her.

I truly, unconditionally loved her.

I breathed out.

So why did you run away, Rêves? Why did you leave me? How can you treat me this way?

We had something special, that unicorn and I. We had been in love since mere schoolfoals, and nothing could keep us apart for long. Hadn’t that same level of devotion stayed with us into adulthood?

We used to be so carefree, us two. We were on top of the world, even though we were nearly destitute, and our love got us through any challenge we faced.

But there was something wrong nowadays, wasn’t there? Something had changed since those cheerful days. Something…

I remembered those early days of our relationship when I wanted nothing more than to humiliate her in front of her friends and loved ones. To let everypony know that that green unicorn was a harlot and a bitch. To let all of Equestria know that she was lower than low and barely deserved any sort of emotion, let alone love or pity.

What was I saying? Nothing had changed since our foalhood. Everything was the same set of lies she had been spinning since our time in school. Our entire life together had been a sham.

I breathed in.

How many ponies had she been with since we gotten together all those years ago when I was young and impressionable? Ten? Twenty? Fifty? Did she even know how many she had been with?

She definitely deserved a good thrashing when I got back home. Oh, what I’d do to her when I finally returned to her loving embrace. Maybe I’d pick up a nice bouquet of flowers before getting back home. Maybe she’d like that.

Oh, dear Rêves, why did you run away?

I climbed out of the pool, spots of blood dripping off my hoof onto the patio pavers, mingling with the water dripping off the rest of my body. I trudged out of the cool night air back into my room.

How could she end our marriage just like that? What was it that drove her away? And why have I only just now found out about it?

Shards of glass and splinters of wood crunched underneath my hooves as I loped trough the wreckage in my apartment.
I breathed out.

I picked my chair back off the floor and set it upright. I collapsed into it and stared forlornly out of the shattered windows into the night as cold and black as ink.

I breathed in.

But why did she leave? Why? Why? Why?! How could she…?

Was it possible that it was my fault after all?

No. No, it wasn’t my fault. Nothing has ever been my fault! I’ve been innocent, and that little bitch of a beautiful, wonderful mare found it fit to ruin me even more. Oh, I’ll show her. I’ll show everypony how she really is.

I could write a song that would show everypony what a loving, caring mare she really is. I bet the stupid, idiotic fans would love something like that, those bastards. They eat up anything I put out. It’s disgusting.

Maybe she would hear the song. Maybe she would feel guilty and return to my waiting embrace. Maybe I would snap her neck right then and there. We would make up and she would cower as I bucked her face in. I would figure out what enticed her away from me and cackle as I ruined both her good looks and her good name.

I breathed out.

I wanted nothing more than to buck her repeatedly and mess up that pretty face. I wanted to tell her everything will be okay and how we would figure everything out.

I despised her.

I loved her.

I missed her dearly. Oh babe, how could you run away like this?

I wanted to tell her how much I detested her very existence and make her feel the pain she brought on me. Maybe I would cuddle her or force her out into the bustling streets wearing nothing but a damning sign that reveals her true nature to all of Equestria. To show how much she can’t be trusted.

I loved hated her. She was everything a pile of vermin to me. Our live together was been wondrous a complete lie and nothing can change that. She was still the same lovely, beautiful, cold-hearted, cheating, wounding mare I’ve even known.

Why did I need her? Why did I need anypony for that matter?

Everypony in my life has abandoned or wronged me, and now she’s no different. The final weight on my already unbearable burden.

And now, what was left for me in this cold shell of reality?

Nothing.

But don’t I need somepony to be with? Don’t I need anypony to help me?

NO!

Nopony can be trusted.

Everpony hurts.

Everything hurts.

Everypony maims.

Everything kills.

Haven’t I been the pinnacle of loyalty and goodness my entire life?

Yes, I have.

I’ve given everything, and life has taken what little I’ve kept away.

And for what?

For ponies to walk all over me, like vermin.

Everything hurts.

But… My wife… Lovely Rêves…

No, she’s not my wife! Not anymore!

I don’t need her!

I don’t need anything!

I don’t need anypony!

I breathed in.

And I screamed.

Author's Note

Based on “Don’t Leave Me Now”

Chapter Eleven: The Writing on the Wall

Chapter Eleven

The Writing on the Wall

My scream echoed throughout the hotel suite.

And as I screamed, thoughts and feelings began creeping to the forefront of my mind, setting me ablaze in a whirlwind of emotions.

First, fragments of memories flashed through my brain one after the other. Names of places I’d forgotten; faces without a name to match with; fledgling ideas and dreams; secret fantasies; plans and schemes; names without faces to match with; silly foalhood assumptions.

Then those slowly ground to a halt, and emotions and feelings began inundating my mind. Happiness; lust; sadness; pride; anger; fear; anxiety; mirth; love; emptiness; courage.

I didn’t know what to make of the sudden flood of experiences. Things I hadn’t remembered in years came rushing back, dripping into my consciousness like rainwater. Emotions I kept tucked away, so as to not make myself vulnerable abruptly returned. Things I hadn’t wanted to remember thrust themselves into my head. All the pain I’ve felt throughout my life heaved itself directly into my heart.

And it hurt so much.

So, so much.

And it made me so very angry.

And the hotel room faded away into blackness as I became overwhelmed.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

As I faded back into consciousness, I found myself lying in a place altogether different than where I was before, wherever that was.

I was in an infinitely large grassy field that seemed to be devoid of any sort of life. All around me, a smoky haze hung in the air and seemed to twist and swirl the longer I looked at it. Any other discernible landmarks were obscured by the fog.

I sat up and peered out into the mist, straining to see anything that lay beyond. Dark shadows seemed to flit in and out of the edge of the fog, toeing the edge before vanishing once again into the depths. The swirls in the fog grew and shrunk as I watched, playing off of the shadows that lived inside them.

It was quiet. So quiet.

After a while, one black splotches seemed to grow larger and larger, growing closer to the edge, until I could begin to make out the ambiguous features of a pony. The other dark shadows darted into this one shadow which grew larger and darker with each passing second.

The vaguely pony shaped shadow grew closer, moving nearer than any of other had dared before, until it hovered right on the edge of the mist. The other shadows had all but now vanished into the larger one.

The shadow staggered out of the fog, revealing a haggard light blue unicorn clutching a small, unassuming brown box in his magical grip. Each step he took left bloody hoofprints in his wake. I watched as he slowly limped towards me, one of his back legs dragging uselessly on the ground, until he finally stopped in front of me.

The stallion stared at me with blood-shot, pupil-less eyes.

He blinked slowly and wordlessly held the box out to me, motioning for me to take it. I hesitantly removed it from his grasp and the barest hint of a smile graced his mouth, stretching the skin around his face taunt.

He stooped down and looked me dead in the eyes. A sudden chill passed through the entire area.

After a moment, he spoke in a gruff voice that reminded me of something from as long time ago. “Can you do me a favor, boy?” he asked, and then continued after I nodded, “Keep that there box safe for me. I’ve gots somewhere I needs to be, and I can’t exactly take it with me.” He chuckled. “I’ll be back soon for it though, ya hear? Pretty soon, in fact! But you gots to promise me not to open it. That’s very important, you understand, boy? Do not open my box. Can you do that for me?”

I nodded once again in confirmation and the stallion’s face stretched into a smile. He ruffled my mane with a bloodstained hoof, splattering my coat with red. The unicorn began to lope away, but called back over his shoulder, “Thanks a bunch, boy! I’ll be back for that box soon!” His voice began to fade as he receded into the mist. “I promise!”

The light blue unicorn vanished and I was left alone and even more confused than I was before.

The grassy field was quiet for a long time after the stallion left, and all that time I waited patiently for his return. Since his departure, the fog seemed to hug in ever closer, blanketing the area further in its grasp. There were times I could barely see a few inches in front of my face, and it was only the presence of the box that confirmed I wasn’t about to float away.

There was only one time the silence was broken; the world felt like it shattered in a roaring explosion of wind and sound that briefly pushed back the ever present fog. For a second I glimpsed the world that lay beyond my little field.

Beyond the mist was an immeasurable ocean that surrounded me on all sides. I was on an island.

And there was no sign of any other life. No other ponies. No light blue stallion.

But as suddenly as it parted, the fog rolled back in, covering the island once more, leaving me feeling all the more lonely.

All things were uneventful after that explosion, and I continued to wait for the light blue stallion’s eventual return. I knew he would come back. He had promised, after all. I knew he would come back and he would take his brown box and me and take us far away, off this grassy island.

And all that time, I never once peeked into his brown box. A promise for a promise.

And so I waited, alone, never finding an answer to anything that had happened since I woke.

And then I waited some more.

And the box waited with me.

It was what seemed like eons later that I finally realized that the stallion was never coming back. He had left me. He broke his promise and was never coming back for his box, or for me.

My tiny heart shattered as my faith in the only pony I’d met on my grassy field was lost.

It was then I glanced at the brown box that had been sitting vigilantly beside me for so long. It was a simple box: it had a bottom and four sides and on top was an equally simple lid.

It was then, after so much time, I felt the urge to know what was in that box.

Mustering up my nerves, I cracked open the lid a tiny fraction and was immediately greeted by an unearthly wail that pierced the silence I had grown so accustomed to. Some force inside the box erupted with the roar of an explosion that shook my field long ago. The lid flew off, deep into the mist and the box flipped many lengths away, coming to a rest on its side.

A steady stream of blood began to ooze out from the box’s opening, causing a veritable river of red to form on the grassy plain, flowing all the way out to the water’s edge. Screams of pain and death emanated from deep within the box, broken up only by dull thudding and acrid smell of magic whizzing though the air.

As I watched the box, a marred and bloody light blue hoof reached out from within the box and fought for purchase on the blood slick grass. Bit by bit, the body that the mangled hoof was attached to emerged from the box and slowly crawled out onto the field.

I managed to identify the pony as a stallion, though that was a hard task in itself. The stallion’s body was covered in uncountable cuts and bruises. Blood and pus seeped out from almost every part of his body and over half of his coat seemed to be burned away, leaving raw pink flesh behind in a stark contrast to the natural light blue color of his coat.

Still, he seemed not to notice me as he left the box. He clutched something to his chest and was struggling to only use one hoof to drag himself along. Slowly, the lower half of his body followed until I could clearly see the broken and mangled wings hanging limply from his sides.

This wasn’t the same stallion from before. He had been a unicorn, while this one was a pegasus. I had still been abandoned and left for trash.

The pegasus ceased to move only halfway out of the box, his injuries obviously proving too much. A violent cough racked his body and then he grew still. His eyelids fluttered closed and his entire body seemed to deflate.

I crawled over to him, wading through the river of blood pouring out from the box. Up close, the stallion looked even worse, the signs of his violent death even more evident. He was almost impossible to look at, he was in such bad condition.

I struggled to pull his arm away from his chest, to reveal whatever he had been holding, but his foreleg was frozen in rigor mortis. After a few minutes of pulling, I removed the pony’s hoof, revealing a small photo of a smiling pink mare and a small pink colt swaddled in cloth.

Suddenly, the entire scene receded into the distance, becoming a small pinprick of light.

I was left in pure blackness.

Alone, once more.

Then, the nothingness I was standing in was split by a shout that seemed to echo louder and louder into being. It lingered for a moment, but just as soon as it began, it abruptly cut out, leaving behind a bizarre cold that chilled me to my very bones.

I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck, as if I was being watched. I twirled around and found only a small, plain white brick wall, only a few bricks in height. It seemed to me, that whatever was being built was still in progress.

Then the world fell away.

I can’t count on anypony’s promises. All they do is leave me. Everypony leaves. Can’t trust anything.

I blinked.

Father,

What did you leave behind for me?

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

I jolted into consciousness with a start, my eyes blinking lazily at my surroundings. For a moment, I was confused as to where I was, and there was a lingering thought that I had just been somewhere else. But as my vision slowly swam into focus, I dismissed those thoughts, because I knew I had never been anywhere but here.

I looked around for what seemed was the first time, but I knew for a fact was not. I was sitting at a desk in a room that seemed to stretch to the outer limits of my vision. All around me, all arranged into neat rows, were countless other desks as far as I could see.

These desks were occupied by faceless ponies, each identical and proper, just as they always were. Their coats were all a light blue color that almost seemed to blend into the distance. They sat at attention, their hooves neatly crossed on the desks in front of them, looking towards what I could only assume was the front of the room, which was bathed in a deep shadow.

It was all like I remembered. There had never been anything else but this room.

I shifted slightly in my seat, suddenly feeling uneasy about something I couldn’t place. I felt as though I should’ve been remembering something, something important, but the memory slipped through my hooves like grains of sand. No matter how I tried, that feeling of elusiveness never faded.

It was then that I noticed that all of the faceless ponies were staring at me. Every single one of them had turned their heads and were gazing straight at me. I tried to meet the stare of the pony next to me, but only held it for a minute before I had to look away. I stared down at my desk, unwilling to look at their empty faces.

For creatures with no eyes, they were remarkably good at staring.

A loud buzzing sound steadily filled the air as they watched me and I did my best to avoid their attentions. The buzz grew louder and louder with each passing second until it was all I could hear. I felt it creep into my other senses as well, causing my hooves to tremble and a darkness to creep over my eyes, obscuring my vision.

Then, against all expectations, the droning buzz grew even louder and what little of the room I could still see began to shake and vibrate. The volume of this noise was incredible, and it seemed as if the entire room, desks and ponies all began to melt in its intensity.

And yet the ponies continued to watch me.

I tried to scream, but I couldn’t even tell if I did. I don’t think I did. The buzzing had taken over everything, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the only noise my lungs could produce was that buzzing. It seeped into, me filling up my empty shell of a body, until it was all I could feel.

I wanted to stuff my hooves into my ears, but I couldn’t lift them. I couldn’t do anything but sit there and experience that insufferable sound. I struggled to keep my eyes open, even though there was little I could see anymore. My vision was fading away into black, and the last thing I saw was the light blue of the faceless pony in front of me.

Then the buzzing cut off with a loud click that reverberated around the room.

All of my senses flooded back as a small hiccup shot out of my throat. I gasped for air, pawing at my chest, as I realized I hadn’t been breathing. I hiccupped again and glanced around the room to see the state it was in after that noise, but found nothing amiss. The room, countless desks and their ponies all were unaffected by the buzz.

The faceless ponies had all snapped their attention back towards the front in a single, smooth motion the moment I looked at them, as if they were guilty of something. They kept their unwavering gaze towards the front and a reedy, sinister chuckle emanated around the room. I swear I could see those faceless ponies smile as a pair of sinister eyes peered out from the darkness in the front of the room.

I suddenly became aware of how pink I was compared to the light blue ponies.

The mystery of what those glowing eyes belonged to was quickly solved as a great, hulking, feathered, light blue monstrosity strode out from the shadows in the front. His leathery lips parted in a grin and I could see endless rows of teeth inside his mouth. The creature looked out over the rows of desks, his eyes burning with a fiery passion.

I felt the beast’s gaze linger on me as he looked about the room and the faceless ponies once more turned to look at me, as if singling me out. I felt them tell the feathered thing how different I was, that I didn’t belong. The monstrous beast’s grin split even wider as he heard their calls and stalked out into the rows of desks, heading directly for me.

As he neared my desk, the fiend drew out a large red and white hammer from somewhere inside his feathers and held it firmly in his talons. He took several more strides and finally reached my desk.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” The beast’s tinny voice boomed throughout the vast room. “How’d you get in here? You’re so… different compared to the others.” He stroked a talon over my head. “You shouldn’t have happened, lad. This is no place for you. Why are you here?” The beast twirled the hammer in his hands and looked at me expectantly. His voice reminded me of wind whistling through a canyon, though I suppose that was what it was, considering the multitude of teeth in his mouth.

I felt an overwhelming sense of dread as the monster continued to stare at me. I opened my mouth to respond to the beast, but no sound came out. I think the buzzing might have broken something. So I sat there, my mouth opening and closing like a fish, terrified at the way the situation was turning.

The beast’s sadistic smile widened as he realized my voice refused to work. I think he enjoyed the fear. He leaned in closer, until I could almost taste his foul breath. “So what is it, lad?” he asked, “Why are you so different?”

I blinked and couldn’t say a word.

“Ah, you’re not gonna talk?” The beast tapped his hammer on my desk, playing out a rhythm of four beats. “No worries. Pain is always a great motivator!” The feathered thing raised his hammer high and slammed it down into my left foreleg. My mouth opened in agony, but no sound came out. Blood splashed out in all directions, splattering the light blue ponies with a deep red.

“You see them!?” roared the beast, gesturing towards the faceless mass around us, “They are what you should be right now! The same! Uniform! Identical!” he growled, “I’ve beaten and molded each and every one of them into what you see here! And you somehow slipped through!” The hammer connected once more with my other foreleg and I was sure I heard a bone splinter in several places. A muffled sound filled the room and the faceless ponies’ heads began to jerk up and down.

I realized they were laughing.

I stole a look at my forelegs and immediately regretted that decision. My once immaculate pink legs were crushed and bloody and almost completely torn clean off. But regardless of their horrifying state, they did not hurt; it was more of a dull throbbing playing endlessly in my head. But despite that, the mere image of my pulpy forelegs was mentally scarring.

The beast smirked. “So you’re not gonna give up the ghost, lad? You’re not going to give up?” The faceless ponies abruptly stopped laughing, leaving the room deathly quiet. The light blue feathered thing continued. “Just let go, lad. It’s easier that way. Join the countless others like a good little pony!”

I tensed up at the fiend’s words. There was something deep inside of me that didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to join the faceless bulk that surrounded me. I wasn’t willing to be led like a lamb to the slaughter.

I was different.

And if different was wrong, then I would never be right.

I glowered at the beast in defiance of his will. I felt the dissatisfaction of the faceless ponies rise up like a cloud of heat, but refused to let it bother me. If they were going to try to pressure me into becoming the same, it wouldn’t work.

The buzzing sound started up again, though it didn’t seem to have the same damning effect as it had last time. It was quieter and more subdued as if its overwhelming power last time had broken it and left it weaker.

The beast scowled, grabbed ahold of my mane and yanked it backwards, nearly slamming my head into the pony behind me. “Just who do you think you are, you pink thing?! You’re a nopony! And you’ll grow up just like the other noponies!” He gestured towards the faceless ponies who all continued to watch the two of us with their eyes that weren’t there. He pressed the blood stained hammer to the underside of my throat menacingly. “I swear lad, if you make this choice, I’ll take great pleasure in making sure you regret it!”

He threw me to the floor, where I collapsed in a heap, unable to support myself with only half of my limbs left to me. The muffled laugh of the faceless ponies resumed as the light blue monster placed a heavy foot on my head, preventing me from getting up. The buzzing clicked higher.

The beast snarled and resumed talking in his distasteful, breezy voice. “You just don’t get it, do you, lad?! I will take your freedom and crush it like the parasite it is! I will take your hopes and your dreams and strip them bare! You don’t deserve to be different! You’re nothing special, and you never will be! What makes you better, huh?” He ground my face into the floor with his foot. “What makes you better than all these others?! What makes you better than me?!”

He smashed his hammer into my right backleg several times, until that too was destroyed. All the while, the light blue ponies around us continued in their droning laughter. The buzzing sound grew louder.

The beast jerked on my mane once again, pulling me completely off of the floor until I was hanging several feet in the air. “Give it up, pink pony!” he snarled, “Don’t fuck with me! I don’t know how or why you’re different, but it’s nothing I can’t beat out of you! I will win!”

He slammed me into a desk occupied by a faceless pony. Blood spurted everywhere as I heard my snout crack. In whatever part of my brain that hadn’t been overcome by an immense numbness, I felt some fear began to form in the depths of my body. I realized that he was really going to kill me. The beast yanked me back up off the desk and stared through my blood-stained eyes. Whatever he saw there seemed to please him.

The ponies continued to laugh.

The beast seemed to grow larger as he watched me squirm in his grasp. He chuckled and wiped my face clear of blood until my cold gray eyes met with his light blue ones. “Oh, I’m going to have fun breaking you, pink pony. I can see the seeds of fear already growing in your eyes. All I need is a little handhold, and I can make you wish you were never different!”

The buzzing continued to grow in volume. It was returning to its previous volume; somepony was obviously fixing whatever had broken it.

The creature chuckled his windy laugh again. “Oh yes, you’ll be the same as the others by the time I'm done with you, lad! That is,” he paused, “unless you want to give up now and join them?”

His tinny voice stung my already addled brain. I was throbbing. The places where my limbs once were prickled with an intensity that made it hard to think straight. I hurt all over. That iron will I had felt before to stay defiant was slowly fading away as the rest of my body grew number.

But I wanted to stay the same, despite the hurt. Didn’t want to lose myself. Didn’t want to be blue.

I slowly shook my head.

The beast’s face lit up and I could almost feel the joy radiating off of him. “Well then,” he snarled, “I suppose I’ll just have to hammer you into shape!”

He raised the hammer once more and the buzzing suddenly exploded in volume, once more condemning my physical and mental capacities.

The feathered thing said something, but I couldn’t hear it over the buzz. The hammer was mere inches from my face.

The last thought I had before he struck was one of doubt. Maybe the beast was right. Maybe I should join the ranks of faceless ponies. Was all this pain really worth it, just to stay different?

Then the hammer connected with the side of my head and the entire room shattered. The buzzing cut out.

I was left standing in a black void, utterly devoid of any sort of stimuli. The once densely populated room I had once been in had disappeared, and with it all of the aching throbbing I had come to associate with my injuries.

I tried taking a step forward, but couldn’t seem to get the message out to my legs. I looked down at my body should have been, but was greeted by nothing. I had no body to speak of, which was slightly unnerving, but explained why I didn’t feel anything.

I shuddered and glanced back upwards, hoping to find any sort of defining landmark to the blackness. Only, blackness that I had seen before wasn’t the first thing I saw.

As I looked back up, there was a stark white brick wall directly in front of me that certainly hadn’t been there before. Its bricks rose just barely above my reach, just barely blocking my view of the other side.

I looked behind me, and found that there was an equally tall wall there as well.

There was something about these two walls that seemed familiar to me, though I couldn’t seem to place it. All I knew was that they seemed uncompleted, like there were several more layers of brick to lay.

That was when the world spun out of focus.

I can’t let anypony know the real me. They’ll just take advantage and hurt me. Gotta keep my emotions hidden.

I screamed.

Teacher,

Leave them kids alone!

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

I awoke from my slumber suddenly, as if startled by some upstart noise. I quickly scoured my small, padded room for signs of any disturbances, but saw nothing of interest. Everything was as it had been for years.

My room was a sparse one. The padding that made up its walls were a sterile white and were as clean as they had been the day I first set sight on them, whenever that was. I would like to say I knew every detail of my room, but then I would be lying. There was a great deal of my small, white room that I had never been to and most likely never will. Those pads never had a chance to get dirty, because I had never set hoof on them before.

I was chained to one of the soft, padded walls. Four shackles attached to each of my legs, keeping me firmly pressed against the wall behind me, and several inches above the ground. Though it’s not like I knew any different; I’ve always been chained to this wall, as far as I could remember.

The only other object of interest in my room was the small, frosted window inlaid into the top of the wall directly across from me. Through that window were the faint silhouettes of ponies of all shapes and sizes walking to and fro. Faint murmurs of conversations sometimes trickled in from the outside. Never anything clear enough to make out, but I could definitely identify it as talking.

All of a sudden, the most peculiar feeling crept over me, casting a sense of unease throughout my body. I felt like I had forgotten something incredibly important. Something I shouldn’t have forgotten.

I concentrated for a moment, racking my brain for memories of anything significant, but turned up nothing. There was never anything worth remembering in my small room, so I doubt there was anything to forget. The feeling quickly faded away, leaving behind only a slight inkling that something was wrong.me to spend my day like the countless others.

I gazed through the window at the ponies walking past in their land of bright light, in an attempt to sooth my frayed nerves. There were so many of them outside, walking by my window, never once stopping and looking in, never once wondering what was inside that small window they passed by. It wasn’t fair that I would never get to meet any one of them.

I had never been in that world beyond the window, and I think I often dreamed of walking amongst the ponies outside. There were times I woke with faint recollections of walking in that land of light, living a life that wasn’t in this room. But that was just a dream.

Most of the time, I was content to just watch the ponies, fantasizing about one day possibly joining them. But there were days where I grew into a frenzy, chomping at the bit, furious at my confined predicament. Those days I would endeavor to break free of my bonds, struggling against the chains that held me to the wall and attempted to escape and join those ponies outside.

But I never could manage to break free.

I could already tell that today would be one of those days. I slowly felt the undeniable sense of anger and longing course through my body that led to that rage I so despised. It was only a matter of time before she appeared to check in on me. And just like all the other times, she would speak to me softly and calm my furious mind. She would help me regain my sense of calm.

I was lonely in my small room, but there was always her.

I felt the familiar rage begin to creep into my mind, poisoning me with its altering ways. I never wanted that shroud of anger to fall over me. I didn’t want to lapse into my anger again; it had always scared me. I was perfectly happy here, alone in my room, at peace with myself.

But however many times I told myself that, I never seemed to listen and would always fall deep into that pit of anger.
But… there was that entire world outside the window I’ve never seen! An entire life I’ve never experienced. And I was kept prisoner in this room, away from it all! Why would I want to stay in here!? Fuck this room! I wished I was free to mingle in that land of light with the other countless ponies.

I pulled my shackles taunt, straining to break the reinforced metal, but to no avail; they were very strong. I gave the chains some slack, gritted my teeth and jerked my forelegs forward again. The cuffs dug into my tender skin and moments later, a deep red began blossomed over my pink fur. I quieted the yelp of pain that rose to the top of my throat.

Drops of red stained the white padded floor below me.

I writhed and thrashed against my bonds for several more minutes, making my way through the pain, until I realized that nothing was working and stopped struggling. I was trapped. Just like always.

I sighed and let my forelegs fall limply to my sides. It was no use. However much I tried, I would never manage to escape. All of the numerous times I’ve tried to escape before has proved fruitless, so why should now be any different? I gave one last, half-hearted tug at my chains and cried out in frustration.

But I wanted to get out. I didn’t like in here. It was so small, so confined. I needed to be free so I could soar. I needed to live. I hated it in here. How could I ever have thought that this room was good for me?

I shouted once again, louder this time, hoping that maybe one of the countless ponies walking by outside would hear and stop and help me escape my prison.

But not a single one of them did. The ponies outside the window continued walking by, unabated.

There was no way they couldn’t have heard me shout for their help. All that separated my room and their world of light was a single, small pane of glass. I could hear their faint whisperings and discussions, even now, when they weren’t trying to be heard. But I, in all my frustration and anger could not make them hear me.

I yelled once more at the window and futilely reattempted to loosen myself from the wall. I banged my hooves against the wall, but only heard an unsatisfying dull thump as they hit the cushions.

Several more drops of blood tarnished the floor.

Just then, a large, light blue earth pony mare stepped right through those blood spots on the pads in front of me, as if there wasn’t a floor there at all. For a moment, the entire room was enveloped in harsh white light and I thought I could glimpse something in the distance. Then the flash of light faded, and the mare was standing in the middle of the room, a practiced, calculated smile upon her face.

This was the same mare who always came to calm me down whenever I had one of my turns. The same mare who kept me captive here. She always appeared whenever something happened, as if she was always watching me.

I’d lost track of how many times she’d had to come see me over the years. The memories of her visits, like the days and weeks, always seemed to blur together. Even the specifics of her visits always seemed to escape me.

However, the one thing I always recalled was the porcelain smile she always wore.

As the mare approached my limp and spent body, her face seemed to stretch unrealistically as her cold grin widened further. She trotted beside me and began to caress my mane, muttering something unintelligible to herself. Her hoof felt cold and clammy against my head, as if she wasn’t completely alive. It felt surreal and alien to my senses.

I tried to yell again, hoping that any one of the ponies outside would save me from this vile mare and the prison she held me in, but before I could, the mare held a hoof to my mouth, silencing me.

“Shh… Shh… There there…” she cooed softly, “Everything’s okay… Stop struggling, sunshine.” Her whispers floated in one of my ears and out the other, barely registering. I didn’t want to hear this mare and her words. I didn’t want to hear her web of lies.

But I heard them anyway.

Her unwavering smile faltered for a moment as she noticed my bleeding wrists, but then it flashed back in an instant. “Oh dear… Oh, you’ve gone and hurt yourself again, poor boy.” She sighed. “Now we have to clean you up, as well as squash your silly notions of escape.”

Her words were soft and calm as she fussed over me, but they only proved to provoke my temper once more. My anger, which had been merely simmering before, exploded at her nonchalant tone. How dare she be so cool and indifferent about everything!

I reached forward as far as my chains would permit, struggling to hurt, to strangle, the mare who was so blasé about my imprisonment.

But she was just a few inches out of my grasp. My hooves slid back down to their normal positions.

A look of disappointment crossed her face momentarily, as if saddened by my display of anger. She stared past me, at the padded wall, seemingly lost in thought. When she began speaking again, several seconds later, her voice was heavy with regret. “I know you’re angry, sunshine… And you have every right to be so…”

I cocked my head to the side in confusion. This was… different. All the times she had come before, she had never said anything even remotely like that. She had never taken up sides with me before.

Or had she? My memories of the past were so muddled and fuzzy that I could barely separate the days nothing had happened from each other, let alone the days when my mind had been overtaken by rage.

The light blue earth pony spun away from me and gazed out of the window. “I can let you leave, you know.” Her head slowly dipped down to the floor, unwilling to even watch the ponies outside. “That world beyond the window you so desire is a dangerous place. Those ponies you see crossing each and every day, back and forth, across the window like well-oiled clockwork? They don’t care about you.” The mare walked back over to me, but she still couldn’t meet my questioning gaze; she kept her eyes glued to the floor. “Not like I do, sunshine. They’ll trample you underhoof without a second thought.”

She crept closer to me and planted a tender kiss on my cheek. My eyelids fluttered at the unwanted contact and she seemed to take that as a cue to continue. “I’m keeping you here for your own good, sunshine.” Her perfect smile began again. “I’m keeping you where I can keep an eye on you and make sure nothing bad ever happens to you.”

I felt the temper that had filled my body just moments before slowly subsiding. Coldness washed over my entire body, relaxing the previously tense muscles and frayed nerves.

If this mare was to be believed, and there wasn’t a reason to doubt her, then maybe the world outside wasn’t all I pictured it to be. If that world outside the window was really so cruel, so terrifying, was my padded room really all that bad?

The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that the mare was telling the truth. Something about her made her seem trustworthy.

Maybe it was her calm, almost loving smile. I could see the concern in her eyes now. Concern for me. True love and care, unlike what apparently waited for me outside…

As I visibly relaxed, the light blue mare’s practiced smile grew even wider. I could see all of her teeth as she spoke again. “Yes, that’s right. Beyond that window is a world filled with filth and sins that would corrupt your young heart. I couldn’t bear if something happened to you out there.” She ran her damp hoof through my mane again. “That’s why I keep you in here. This room is safe. Nothing can hurt you in here…”

I nodded slightly, seeing the truth in her words. Of course she was right. She was always right.

As the last vestiges of anger left me, my body went limp and a soft sigh escaped my lips. The mare was still wearing her large, porcelain smile.

I don’t know what it was about the mare and her words that calmed me, but whatever it was, it was lovely. There was something about her that exuded honesty, something my previously rage filled self failed to see. But now I believed her words and the truth her smile seemed to whisper to me.

Why had I ever wanted to leave my room? These four walls were all I’ve ever known. If I had escaped and gotten out into that world beyond the window, it would practically be a death sentence. I recognized that now. I wouldn’t know how to survive, and if the ponies outside were as truly despicable as the mare painted them to be, then I’m sure they wouldn’t hesitate to kill me outright.

No, I didn’t want to leave. I want to stay safe. I trusted this light blue mare with my life, and she obviously cared greatly for me.

I smiled and the mare smiled right back at me.

“Yes… there you go, sunshine,” she cooed, “I’ll keep you safe forever… You can trust me, can’t you?” I nodded again, more vigorously this time. “Now, let’s clean up those bloody wrists of yours, hmm?”

She suddenly pressed a wet cloth to my red stained fur, dabbing at the raw skin when the shackles had worn through. I winced and jerked back from her touch, but the smile never left her face. “Come on, sunshine. You can trust me…”

With those words, her white, pupil-less eyes faded into a deep black and for a moment. My body felt as if it was being drawn into those dark pits. The blackness seemed to suck what little color remained from the room, leaving color from the room, what little of it there was. I felt myself growing cold and the murmurs from outside the window grew quieter and quieter.

And all the while I was transfixed by her eyes, the mare’s smile never wavered.

The room faded further away into obscurity as my captor wiped a second time at my injured hooves. The blackness in her eyes seemed to grow as the moments passed, until it nearly overtook her face.

I tried to ask her what was happening, but my mouth didn’t seem to work.

The whispers from outside the window grew silent for the first time that day.

The mare fussed over my coat once again and the room grew dimmer with each passing second. “There,” echoed the mare’s voice in my ears, “That wasn’t so bad was it?”

The last thing I saw before the blackness in her eyes overtook me was that small, practiced smile of hers.

Then, everything was gone.

“I won’t hurt you, sunshine.” Her words echoed around the empty black void I found myself in, filling my head with a sense of security that didn’t seem to want to disperse. Despite my current situation, amidst this featureless void, I felt safe and secure.

I took a look around the empty space, taking in what wasn’t there. The room, chains, window and light blue mare had all disappeared and left me alone for the first time I could remember. The one thing that remained was the coldness that always permeated my room.

Time passed, I think…

I stood in that black place for a while, without as much as a clue what to do now. After what could have been an eternity, but just as well have been a few seconds, I decided to do something. I hesitantly attempted to take a step forward, but was interrupted mid-step by a clattering noise from behind me. The only sound I’ve heard since I first found myself in this void.

I turned around and was greeted by a large and clean white brick wall that towered high above me, stretching several stories into the black dimness.

I took a staggered step forwards and cautiously approached this wall. It seemed to hum with some sort of warm, indescribable energy. The closer I got to it, the more the coldness in the air receded and was replaced by calmness and love. I stopped a few inches from it, slightly taken aback by the amount of heat emanating from the wall.

I hesitantly pressed a hoof to one of its bricks, but instead of the warmness emanating from the wall, its bricks were as cold as ice. A jolt of fear unlike any I’ve known before jammed its way inside my body, turning my insides to mush.

I jerked away, but still felt the brick’s terrifying effects. My heart pounding in my chest, I turned away from the wall to gaze out over the empty void, but instead of the blackness I expected, I found only white. The white swam in my vision briefly, but before long, I could start to make out clear cut bricks, much like the wall behind me.

I glanced behind me to reassure myself the previous wall still existed before looking back at the newer, second one. The two walls both loomed reassuringly above my head. The warmness in the emptiness doubled.

I turned my head to my right and found yet another massive wall there as well, identical to the previous ones. The warmness expounded once again, raising the temperature to almost unbearable levels. Unbearable levels of love and warmth.

Sweat began to form on my body, matting my fur and I glanced to my left, but found only the cold, bleak vastness that seemed to have no end. That bitter loneliness that was so outlandish compared to the warmth the three walls gave off.

I was surrounded on only three sides by these walls, as if the fourth was still waiting to be started, not yet complete. The temperature spiked again, and my coat felt as if it caught on fire.

But before anything could happen, the world faded away.

The world is full of filth. Can’t let anything hurt me. Have to stay clean and healthy.

I shuddered.

Mother,

Did it need to be so high?

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

When I opened my eyes, I was in an empty room that was there, yet at the same time, was somewhere else entirely. The white walls that made up the room were thin and membrane-like, and pulsated and bulged sporadically. After a few seconds of watching, I had to close my eyes. I couldn’t look at the walls for more than a few seconds at best before a dull thudding began in the back of my skull, like a procession of drums beating out an endless rhythm.

It was cold as well. So very cold.

I waited out the throbbing with my eyes closed. It was strange, despite the sickening movement of the walls and the intense cold, I felt very at ease, something I think I haven’t felt in a long time. I cracked open my eyes again and peered at the room for a second time. Nothing had changed; the walls still were twisting and churning, but I found them much less nauseating to watch.

As I finally took in the room without a pounding headache, a new feeling abruptly overtook me. A penetrating sense of dread flooded through the pit of my stomach, as if I was forgetting something incredibly important, something that I should have remembered. But as I turned my mind to the past, I found a terrifying emptiness where there should have been my memories.

I couldn’t remember anything past a few minutes ago.

Had there even been anything past a few minutes ago?

…

Where had I been before I found myself in this room?

Where was I before?

There was a different room that flashed fleetingly in my head…

But…

Where was it…?

Where was…?

Where…?

…

…

I was here now, wasn’t I? I’ve always been here.

There wasn’t anything before these meandering walls.

…

…

What had I been thinking of again?

…

…

…

I’ve always been here. I’ve been in this small, pulsating room for…

…

A long time, wasn’t it?

I wasn’t sure. Time seemed to stretch indefinitely in this twisting, churning room. I couldn’t tell how long I’d been within these thin walls.

Had it been minutes?

…

Days?

…

Hours?

…

Years?

…

…

…

…Minutes?

…

…Days…?

…

Hadn’t I just gotten here?

It was so cold here.

So cold…

…

Wait… How long have I been here?

I’ve been here a long time, haven’t I?

It has been so cold.

The white walls pulsated.

I’ve been here forever, I realized. I’ve sat in this white room for as long as I could recall, gazing at naught and nothing of any sort of interest has happened. There was nothing before this. There has only been here, and everything I’ve ever known, I’ve learned from this room, because that’s all there ever has been.

It was then I could hear faint whispers of voices and sounds began to trickle in through the walls. The whispers crept in through the thin walls, snaking about the room like wisps of fog.

The tendrils of smoke grew thicker with each passing second and began to collect and swirl around me like sentient beings. I could almost reach out and touch one, but each time I did, they always seemed to move out of the way of my hoof.

The whispers drifted closer and began to coil around my head, speaking to me, filling me with thoughts and feelings that had never belonged to me. The wisps of thought spoke of a world, far away from my little, cold, pulsing room, filled with shapes, colors and sights I had never even imagined before.

They spoke of a bizarre almost-white-but-not-quite creature that walked on four legs and had what they called a tail and eyes, among other things. The thoughts informed me that the creature was something called a ‘pony’ and its color was something called a ‘pink.’

These new things were alien to me. They scared me but filled me with such unimaginable curiosity, that I could not look away from the whisper’s vision and a ‘pink’ and a ‘pony.’

But the thoughts seemed to think I should have known what those new objects were, but hadn’t a clue. I had never heard of a pink or a pony before, let alone seen one. There had only been my room, the color white and myself.

The visions suddenly flashed rapidly, changing through many strange things-that-were-not-white and occasionally other pink objects and figures. The whispers instructed me on every scene they threw at me, informing me on various colors, places and creatures.

I felt a strange and unfamiliar twinge in my chest as I watched, as if something there suddenly froze up and was slowly spreading to the rest of my body. It was a new sensation, this twinge that I felt, but the thoughts quickly whispered a word they called the ‘fear’ in my head.

I hadn’t known this fear before. There was never a reason to be afraid before.

The life that the tendrils seemed intent on showing me caused a strange, prickly feeling in my head that the smoke informed me was the ‘confusion.’ Scenes of a life I’d never lived and fantastical places that weren’t my white room danced in front of my vision, bringing on this confusion heavier and heavier each second.

The current scene I was seeing was of a pink and a pony and an object the thoughts told me was a ‘guitar.’ There was a pink, but the pony had what I was told was its ‘hooves’ on the guitar, moving up and down rhythmically. I felt a lump build up in my throat at the sight and the whispers told me it was the ‘nausea.’

These visions and explanations went on for millennia, until the walls of my room wore thinner than they were ever before. Finally, the thoughts trickled to a halt and filled my mind with a single word. The second word the whispers taught me.
Pink.

The whispers then showed the pony creature from before, once more flashing the word ‘pink’ in my mind.

I felt myself floundering about in my second bout of confusion. Hadn’t the color that-wasn’t-quite-white been pink? And hadn’t that four legged beast been a pony? They couldn’t have been the same thing. Surely the tendrils must be mistaken.

The whispers must have felt my newfound confusion because the word and picture flashed once again, stronger this time.

Pink and the pony.

I felt something from the thoughts, something that they informed me was ‘disapproval.’ It didn’t feel too good. My mind prickled the further I sunk into confusion, an affect expounded by the disapproval flowing freely from the tendrils.

The picture and word flashed once again.

Pink and the pony.

The same feeling of disapproval.

Pink… and the pony?

Disapproval.

Pink and... a pony?

Disapproval.

Pink… the pony?

The feeling of disapproval I had been plagued with suddenly swung upwards to something much lighter, which the thoughts informed me was an ‘approval.’ The image and word flashed once more.

Pink the pony.

The pony and its name hung in my mind for a moment before finally sinking in. The synapses in my brain felt like they snapped as the memories I had just been shown started to flood back.

Wasn’t I a pink pony once?

I felt approval flow from the whispers.

My name was Pink.

Pinkerton the pink pony.

Pink.

Pink.

Pink.

The name rolled through my mind with ease and I wondered how I had ever forgotten it.

Pink.

The tendrils of whispers disappeared in a wave of approval, sinking back into the thin walls and left me alone in the quiet room.

I had forgotten everything. My name, my body, my life, all stripped from my mind. I lost everything to these pulsating walls, only to gain it all back sometime later. What happened to me?

For the first time, I actually looked up at the little, white, cold, pulsating room I was in, but for a moment all I saw was an endless blackness that abruptly shrunk into a pinprick on the horizon. The point of black hung in the distance for a few seconds before flashing and revealing the same room I remembered from before.

Only this time, there was a small difference from the sparse room from moments prior. This time there was an equine shadow without a body to cast it gliding along the walls of the room, slowly encircling me like a predator stalking its prey. It slowed to a halt once it had completed several rounds and turned to face me.

The shadow wavered and bulged outwards and bit by bit, it began to remove itself from the wall. First a light blue hoof tentatively stepped out of the black shadow. Then another cautiously felt its way out, soon to be followed by a mare’s head adorned with a unicorn horn. And soon an entire torso followed suit of the previous body parts and seeped out from the wall.

The light blue unicorn mare removed the rest of her body from her shadow and smoothed down a few wayward hairs on her coat. She glanced around the area, seemingly enchanted by the flashing, pulsing walls before finally noticing me. A smirk that could only be described as evil spread over her face and she sauntered over to where I was sitting in the center of the floor.

A look of pure disgust and loathing crossed her face as she neared me. The dim light of the room seemed to play off her body as the gap between the two of us closed. Her body sparkled and wavered in an almost hallucinogenic way.

Her sudden entrance and her almost mystical appearance made me wonder if she was really there at all, or a product of my mind or of the room. I curiously reached a hoof out towards the unicorn, hoping to see whether or not she was tangible, only to have her viciously slap my hoof away, growling at me in the process.

She was definitely real. Most illusions don’t hurt.

The mare’s threatening glower was interrupted by a low warbling sound from the wall behind her. She glanced behind her, towards the rippling walls and smiled as another shadow made its way across the wall.

This new shadow was distinctly male shaped, but was significantly more hesitant leaving the churning walls than the female was. After much indecision, he finally managed to oust his body from his shadow, revealing a sturdy, light blue earth pony stallion.

The walls jerked one last time and stopped moving.

The stallion seemed much more disoriented than the mare was and clutched his head with a pained gasp immediately. He staggered forward, nearly tripping his own hooves, his eyes clenched tight in pain. His breaths were ragged and loud and he didn’t move for several minutes.

The mare looked on in mild interest, never once moving to help the stallion.

Eventually, the stallion straightened up and looked about the room. A wide smile split his face when he laid eyes on the mare, who suddenly seemed equally joyous to see him. The stallion galloped across the room towards the mare and threw his forelegs around her, embracing her in a passionate hug.

I felt a cold twinge deep in my chest as I watched the two of them. That chill slowly crept through the rest of my body, until my forelimbs began to shake. I felt furious watching the mare and the stallion hug. The only problem was, I didn’t know why I was angry. I could remember everything I’d forgotten about my life, but why the sight of those two ponies together angered me, I had no idea.

As I was assessing these unanticipated feelings, the two light blue ponies finished their greetings and now turned their attentions towards me, staring at me down their snouts, an almost identical sneer plastered on both of their faces. The mare caught my glance and shifted her gaze towards the stallion. “Look at this pathetic, wretched excuse for a pony.” she scoffed, gesturing at me. “Disgusting, isn’t he?”

The stallion nodded earnestly in agreement and spoke with an air of superiority. “Indeed he is.” The stallion dipped his head closer to mine and his hot breath fogged in the frigid air. “It’s a wonder his mother even loved him!” He chuckled. “And now you’re oh so alone, aren’t you, Pink?”

The light blue mare laughed and wrapped a forearm around the stallion, hanging loosely from his shoulders. She tenderly stroked my jawline with her free hoof, and temporarily, I felt just a little warmth seep back into my icy bones. For a moment, that tense ball of anger in the pit of my stomach felt all that more relaxed.

But then the unicorn snarled and whacked my head to the side in one violent motion and smiled that frigid little smile of hers. The ice crept back into my bones, I couldn’t move an inch anymore, and that ball in my stomach curled tighter than ever before.

“We don’t need you anymore, you bastard!” she shouted at me and slapped me again. “I don’t need you! In fact, I’ve never needed you! I’ve moved on to bigger and better things!” As if to prove her point, she leaned in a planted a sloppy, wet kiss on the light blue stallion’s mouth. “I’m better off without you!” she giggled with just a hint of venom in her voice.

The stallion whispered something in her ear and she glanced at me inquisitively. After a moment, she began to giggle and nodded enthusiastically, trying to unsuccessfully to stifle her laugh. The stallion began to chuckle as well, and soon the two of them began to laugh uncontrollably, tittering like schoolfoals over their unknown joke.

I looked at the floor, unwilling to watch the pair of them.

After their bout of laughter had died down, the mare continued. “It’s true, you know, Pink. Oh, I know you thought we were in love. Ha! I’ve used you since the day we’ve met, leading you on, and you’ve unknowingly played your part masterfully!”

Her hoof connected with the side of my face a second time, eliciting a burst of laughter from the two of them. “I always hated you, Pink!” She yanked my head backwards by my mane, forcing me to meet her gaze. “You were always a disgusting, fucking piece of shit! You don’t deserve anypony, let alone me!”

The light blue unicorn scoffed and threw me back down to the floor. “I don’t know how you can live with yourself, Pink. Nopony loves you and nopony ever will! You will die alone, cold and, with a bit of luck, in a lot of pain. It’s what you deserve!”

The mare stomped me hard in the ribs as she growled her last words. I heard something crack and my body twitched as immense pain shot up my sides. Tears sprung to my eyes as I clutched wildly at my shattered ribs.

The coldness I had felt before was replaced by a warm, sticky feeling that was slowly worming its way from my abdomen.

She trampled my side again, producing another sharp crack and another shot of pain through my body. She kicked out again in the same spot, but this time there was a wet thump and an even greater jolt of pain. When she drew her hoof back, it was coated in red.

The two ponies stood above me and laughed and laughed…and laughed and…and laughed and laughed and laughed and…laughed and laughed and laughed…and…and…laughed…laughed and…laughed and…laughed…… laughed……….
After a while, I couldn’t hear them anymore.

And then there was blackness.

…

…

I managed to crack open my eyes what felt like a moment later and the darkness dispersed. I was met with the same room I was in and the same two ponies that had dispelled what comfort I had before. They had both stopped laughing.

I blinked a few times as my eyes adjusted to the light of my room. The mare was saying something to the stallion. Their conversation was muffled, like I was listening with cotton stuffed in my ears, despite being just a few feet away.

The mare’s hooves were a dark red color.

The air was cold again, and the side of my body felt sticky and numb. There was a reddish-brownish sort of stain on the floor in front of me that matched the mare’s hooves that wasn’t there before. I briefly wondered why the ponies painted the ground before pain rushed up from my shattered ribs and I remembered the cause of the discoloration. I groaned, though I couldn’t hear it, and unsteadily sat up, ignoring the throbbing in my side.

The mare noticed me first and pointed me out to the stallion. Both trotted back over, and I began to hear snippets of their voices clearer as my ears became unstuffed.

“Oh, look wh……wake. Have a fu…….ittle rest there, did you? …uld have hated if I…..killed you.” said one of them. I couldn’t tell exactly who the voice belonged to yet. They started saying something else, but it was too soft to hear properly. They began laughing again, and my hearing finally faded back into use.

“Oh, did you know,” said the mare to the stallion in between fits of laughter, “That all the time me and that bastard Pink were together, I was never faithful to him?”

“Really?” the stallion guffawed.

The mare smirked. “Oh yes. I was having affairs left and right! And little, idiot Pink here never suspected a thing, even when I practically flaunted it in his face! Pathetic isn’t he?” The stallion bobbed his head up and down, unable to speak properly through his laughs. The mare continued, “Oh, but you. You’re a thousand times the stallion that sniveling Pink was.” Her tail wrapped around the stallion’s and she smiled playfully. “Especially in bed…”

I felt that ball in my stomach twist even tighter, again feeling jealous for reasons unknown.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as the mare stared at the stallion, a toothy, predatory grin on her face. Then, with a passionate roar, the unicorn practically leapt on top of the stallion in a sudden bout of lust and pressed her mouth to his. The stallion fumbled for a moment, obviously surprised, but quickly recovered, returning the mare’s affections with equal ferocity.

What seemed like hours later, the two of them broke apart, gasping for breath. The mare cast an arrogant look in my direction, obviously enjoying the discomfort and pain their love was causing me. Then she went down again and the pair rapidly degraded into a tangle of limbs and fervent moaning.

Her attempt to rile me succeeded, though as to why I had no clue. My chest seemed to burn as I watched the two of them, but I couldn’t turn my head away. I was stuck watching, feeling the pain of jealousy race through me, adding insult to my already injured body.

One of my forelegs brushed against my busted ribs, causing my body to jerk in pain. My legs flailed out, nearly throwing me off-balance, but not quite. I gritted my teeth, preventing any shout of pain to escape my lips and laid against the floor on my uninjured side.

As I watched, the two light blue ponies, still locked in their passionate embrace, slowly stretched and melted together into a single, sinuous blob. It became hard to tell where the mare ended and the stallion began. Hooves fused together and tails entwined around each other as time went on, until there was nothing left of the unicorn and earth pony.

In their place was a gigantic, slender light blue creature. The worm, for that was what it most resembled, rose up high above the ceiling of my room, and looked at me from its lofty position. I don’t know how I knew it was watching me, without any eyes on its head, but I could feel its gaze piercing through me. The worm’s bottom coiled and uncoiled around itself several times, sliding across the floor with a sickening moist sound.

The head of the worm leaned down to my level and stared at me with its intense, eye-less gaze. My eyes were locked on its face, completely unable to look away. The worm moved forward even closer, until it was mere inches away from my snout. I gulped and scooted back a bit, trying not to inflame my broken ribs again. The worm responded in kind and moved with me, copying every inch I moved backwards with a slither forward.

It brought its head in even closer and gently nudged the top of my head, as if inquisitive about what I was. The moment the thing touched my skin, though, it reared back as if in pain, and flailed around sporadically. A high pitch squeal echoed around the room.

The worm wiggled and squirmed a bit, unable to control its movements, before suddenly bulging outwards. Dozens of identical swells cropped up all over its body and began to pulsate.

All of the walls that made up the room followed suit.

After a moment, one of the bulges burst in a burst of pink and the rest followed seconds after. The light blue worm exploded into millions of smaller, pink creatures, all perfectly indistinguishable from the next. My mind barely had the time to register the things as pink, normal sized worms before they all began inching their way towards me.

The squealing had stopped with the light blue monstrosity’s death.

I backed away from the horde of worms as best I could with a broken rib, but they were quickly covering the distance between us, regardless. I dragged myself away from the pink mass that now covered well over half of the room, until I could go no farther. I huddled, defenseless, in the last open corner of the room as the worms slowly advanced towards me.

Briefly, a memory rose to the forefront of my mind. It was of a day, countless years ago when I was very young. Mother and I had gone to the park to have a nice, quiet stroll. The colors stuck out the most in the memory. It had been fall, and all of the leaves were red, orange, yellow, and all sorts of other colors. The air was crisp and cool, the kind of weather that was just perfect. I always liked autumn.

Mother had stopped to smell some flowers on the side of the path and I had gotten bored and wandered further down the walkway. I trotted for a few moments before stopping and looking behind me at Mother, assuring myself that she was still there.

I don’t remember how it happened, but when I looked forward again, I was surrounded by a thick crowd of ponies. They circled around me, shutting me out from Mother and the outside world. It was nearly suffocating and I was much too little to push my way out.

After being shoved back and forth repeatedly by the unobservant crowd, I collapsed onto the floor, curling into a ball, hoping that I wouldn’t get trampled over. I began to cry. It was a sort of quiet, little whimper that shouldn’t have attracted much attention.

I was so scared and so very alone.

But then, a pair of hooves wrapped around me, lifting me up off of the dirty sidewalk. I cracked open my tear-stained eyes to see a pegasus stallion with a blue coat gripping me tightly in one of his forearms. I remembered his smile of reassurance as he led me from the crowd and back to my mother, who was beside herself in worry.

As he hoofed me over to her, I realized with a start that my savior looked like the stallion that was always in pictures with Mother. It was only later that I realized that that stallion in those photos was my father. I think Mother saw her husband in that pegasus’ face, because she gaped blankly at the stallion for a few moments before stammering out a thank you for finding me.

The stallion smiled again and waved off the deed, assuring us it wasn’t a big deal. Mother thanked him again, and the stallion turned to leave. I think Mother wanted to say something else, but couldn’t find the words.

As the blue pegasus trotted away back into the crowd of ponies, I caught a glimpse of his cutie mark. It wasn’t the same as my father’s.

Mother never saw his cutie mark, and I don’t think she ever gave up hope that that mysterious stallion was Father until many years later.

Then, the worms swarmed my body in seconds, covering every inch of pink fur with their writhing mass. My head swiftly came next, followed soon by my tail. Soon, I was covered head to hoof in a soft, pink cast of worms.

Then they each bit down on my skin with tiny, needling jaws. One bite would have been a minor inconvenience, but multiplied by a million felt like a raging fire all over my body. A million hungry mouths on every available piece of skin on my body.
I opened my mouth to scream, only to have the worms crowd into my throat, choking back my shout before it could begin.

I felt them squirm their way inside my body, coating and suckling on all open space. They clamped down on my stomach, lungs and even heart. I could feel each part of my body grow progressively slower as the worms drained all of my organs. I didn’t even have to time to think about the situation. Only the pain coursing through my body.

I felt them make their way up my spine, momentarily pushing each vertebra out of place as they inched along. They flocked their way up towards my head, which was the last organ left untouched, despite it being closest to their point of entrance.

Moments later, I felt the first pinch in my head and knew immediately they had made their way into my brain. One by one, I felt them grab hold and suckle on my life.

I felt parts of my mind go dark as the worms did their work. Bits and pieces of synapses bloomed and dimmed in seconds as the worms squirmed their way deeper into my gray matter. Memories that I had just remembered with the help of the whispers from before were wiped away in a flash.

It was only going to be moments before the worms ate their fill and made every bit of me blank and empty.

In one of my last seconds, I managed to force one of my eyes open, despite the worms covering my face and found myself looking at blackness. My little, white, cold room was no longer there. Gone were the pink, wriggling bulk of worms that were just there seconds prior. My ribs were clean and whole, and all of my insides seemed to be moving just as fast as they should be.

I took a deep breath and took a better look at this blackness I found myself in.

It didn’t take long to find out that there was nothing in this dark void. I was completely alone.

I had the distinct feeling I had encountered this situation before.

It was then I realized I was mistaken and that there wasn’t blackness in front of me. What was there was a large, imposing a white brick wall looming out of the dark.

My eyes followed the wall upward, but strained to see the top of it. It seemed to stretch up into the very heavens.

I glimpsed a flash of white from the corner of my eye, and I turned to my left to see another impossibly tall wall there as well. It appeared from the blackness much like the first one had, in stark contrast to the rest of the landscape.

These walls felt completed.

I approached the second wall, now even more curious as to their origin than before. There was something about the walls that seemed strangely attractive, compelling even.

I reached out a hoof to touch one of the bricks, but stopped halfway, a feeling of unease prickling the back of my neck. I glanced behind me, and found a third wall had appeared there as well.

My head swiveled to the left, to the only remaining spot a wall hadn’t appeared yet, but found none of the black vastness I first encountered. In its place was a fourth, identical wall.

Four white walls.

One pink pony.

I finally pressed my hoof to the wall in front of me and a soft melody drifted through my head. The wall was singing! I closed my eyes and pressed my other foreleg to the wall, and the tempo spiked upwards, becoming a faster paced beat. Intrigued, I rested my head against the bricks, hoping something else would happen.

The song exploded into a cacophony of noise and vibrations that shook my entire body. I jerked away and lurched into the center of the four walls. But even then, the song was still playing.

I became aware of how warm it was suddenly becoming.

The wall’s music slowed to a halt, leaving the space deathly quiet, except for the ringing still rattling around in my head. I folded my ears to my head with my hooves, trying to block out the insufferable noise that the walls passed into me.

But eventually, that too faded into silence, leaving me surrounded by four, enormous walls. My mind turned to them. Why did they sing? What was their purpose? Was it to keep that cold blackness out from this corner of the void?

Or was it to keep this corner of the void separate from everything else?

I knew I was entrapped by the walls, and yet I felt very comfortable in there. It was as if they exuded some sense of trustworthiness, like they were always there for me throughout my life. It was if they were very close friends from sometime in my past.

I couldn’t remember, though…

Something was…

I felt…

Pink…

But then the world snapped and split.

The beautiful things always end up hurting the most. And life has been the most beautiful of all. Can’t trust beautiful. Got to get them first.

I cried.

Rêves,

Don’t leave me now…

…

…

…

…

I saw a faint pinprick of white light in the distance.

…

…

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

My scream echoed throughout the hotel suite.

As I faded back into consciousness, the thoughts and feelings associated with each of my bricks pressed down on me, suffocating me until I was sure I would die.

There were my years growing up without a father of my own. An innocent foalhood that was ruthlessly shattered by the fact I would never know my own father, while everypony else grew up in an unbroken family. It wasn’t fair. He promised Mother he would come back. He promised.

And he broke that promise. How could I trust anything after my own father lied?

Then there were my school years, continually beaten and crushed by a relentless regime. They strived to make me perfect and standardized. Any show of emotions or differences was thoroughly stamped out as soon as it cropped up. They wanted puppets for the country, perfect little automatons.

So I locked all my emotions away, where nopony could ever use them to hurt me again. That taught them. I wouldn’t follow them. Nopony can see the real me.

Soon after, Mother locked me in a cold, suffocating embrace and attempted to keep me sequestered away. Anything that could harm me was hidden, so not to taint or corrupt me. She tried to keep me clean and unharmed. Any impure thoughts were expunged and any negative influences were kept far away.

But I broke free from her grasp and from her ideals. Now I’m famous and can melt hearts on a whim. But I’m still so afraid. What if she was right?

And now, my own wife, a testament to the very things Mother warned about, abandoned me without as much as a backwards glance. My beautiful, traitorous wife. She never loved me, and yet she led me on, only to have an affair behind my back. I had thought—I had hoped—that what we had was real, but I was taken for a fool. And now I’m left with nothing by an empty hole where she ruthlessly tore out my heart.

I had tried to love and to live, but it’s all been for naught. Life had beaten me down for the last time. So why even try anymore?

Why should I even try anymore?

There was nothing for me here any longer.

At every turn in my life, I’ve been so alone.

I’ve had nopony I could count on. Nopony I could trust.

I’ve found nothing but despair and agony throughout my life, and all of it has been inflicted by others I thought I could depend on.

So why did I need anypony?

And why did I need anything?

The world cared nothing for me. It has only sought to wound and hurt me. All my life I’ve been kicked around and not a thing has gone right.

For so long, I was deceived so I would never realize the blatant truth that my entire life has been a mess. But now, I’ve seen through the smoke and mirrors, and I’ve seen the light. The solution seemed so simple, yet elegant.

It took me a long time to find the Wall I’ve been building my entire life. But now that I have, I know that it can protect me. It can stop the pain. It can help me lose myself.

It’s been with me since the very beginning. Since Father’s broke his promises and died.

It’s the only thing I can trust.

Now I don’t need anything else.

I don’t need anything at all.

And all in all, they were all just the bricks in my Wall.

Author's Note

Based on “Another Brick in the Wall (Part Three)”

Chapter Twelve: Goodbye Cruel World

Chapter Twelve

Goodbye Cruel World

I sat in my hotel room, in the midst of the Canterlot night, staring forlorn out of the shattered window that overlooked the entire city and surrounding valley. The moonlight shone off the pearly white buildings in the city, radiating light high into the heavens, obstructing the stars. Down in the land below the city, soft orange light glowed, showing the faintest silhouettes of small rural towns. It was almost like a pool of stars situated in the grassy fields, mirroring the scant amount of stars visible above.

The world was a big place, and Equestria was only a small part of it. So why was it that all of life’s misfortunes were directed onto me? Why was I so unlucky? I’d never hurt anypony and I’ve never done anything wrong, but time after time, while life rewarded all the others around me, I’ve borne the brunt of this world’s cruelties,

And through this unjustified brutality, I’ve struggled and fought my way to the top. I drudged through everything life threw at me and fulfilled my dreams of becoming a renowned musician, the likes Equestria has never seen.

But to what ends? Now, the entire world is in love with me, in love with my music, but I cannot say I share the same sentiments. I’m so tired. It was lonely at the top.

I thought I was content with my life of luxury. I had everything I had ever wanted, after all. I had a wife, money, power, sex appeal, and the ability to create music to my heart’s content. I had love, happiness, and a life where I was perfect. Nothing could top it, or so I thought. But now, all of that has deceived me.

Now I’ve been betrayed by that bitch of a mare that I thought I could trust, so how can I trust any of those other vices I fell back on before? There’s nothing I can believe in anymore.

These things lulled me into a false sense of security, only for the cold hooves of fate to rip that protection away more violently than ever before, so what was to say that anything I relied in before wouldn’t procure the same results.

My faith has been stripped and my soul crushed, so what else matters?

Nothing matters.

Everything would have to go away. Everything and everypony. Have to separate myself from this land of false love and shattered promises and finally live a life free of pain.

I had to be free.

There was an indescribable joy that I felt as I faced the end of my misery, there, in my hotel room. It was the sort of buzzing happiness one would expect from a foal on Hearth’s Warming Day, amidst the numerous festivities. It was a feeling of warmth and contentment I hadn’t felt in a very long time, such a long time.

But despite that joy of knowing I would finally seal myself away from everything, not the barest hint of a smile graced my lips.

I’ve had enough of smiling.

Instead, I shook myself out of my state of contemplation and clambered out the armchair I’ve been sprawled in for the past few minutes. I looked around my hotel room for what seemed like the first time that night.

The floor was absolutely trashed. Glass, fabric and wood scraps were scattered all around the room at random intervals. Shards of guitars were imbedded into some of the walls. A food cart was lying on its side, its various foodstuffs coating the immediate area. Unidentified liquids leaked out from broken bottles, staining the carpeting.

The cleaningponies at this hotel weren’t very good.

I traversed all the debris, managing to avoid jagged shards of glass and metal, and reached the front door, which still hung wide open. The hall outside was as bland as any other hallway, though there seemed to several dark splotches of something staining the flooring and walls. Somewhere in my mind, I knew what those dark splotches were, but I pushed those thoughts away. I was too afraid to face them. I didn’t want to know.

I’ve had enough of truth.

I took one last look at the hallway and shut the door. I turned the door handle lock, hearing it click shut with much satisfaction. I tried to do the same for the deadbolt, but my hooves kept slipping with each attempt; they weren’t quite dry from my time floating in the pool. Eventually, I managed to turn the lock, finally sealing myself in my room and away from the rest of the world.

With that finally taken care of, I wandered back through the ruined room with a slight spring in my step. Nothing could bother me now. There would be no interruptions, no interventions, and no more dreams of grandeur.
Just me.

Me and myself.

And me.

I took a detour to the bedroom, hardly registering where my hooves were taking me. As I approached the doorway, I could see that it was in a much better state then the living room was. My hooves slowed to a halt, as if I was hesitant to enter the room completely. I stood in the doorframe, staring blankly into my bedroom for what seemed to be ages, entirely at a loss as what to do next. The wind whistled past the broken window in the room behind me, playing out a sad and lonely tune.

Was this really what I wanted, to isolate myself in my room, to just lock myself away from my troubles…? Was this… Do I really…

Of course I want this.

No qualms.

No hesitations.

No looking back.

Go on.

My hoof took a trembling step forward into the bedroom, and something wet rolled down my cheek, dripping onto the carpet below. I rubbed at the wetness absentmindedly with one of my hooves and stumbled into the room, unsure of the reason I was in there.

Suddenly, the calm of the room was broken by a loud burst of static followed by the sound of another pony talking. “…want to go through with this, Sir?” said the unidentified stallion through the bursts of static, “Our orders are to-

The stallion’s voice cut off, only to be sharply replaced by a different one. “I know what our orders are! Don’t be a smartass, Private! But…” his voice faltered, “But we can’t! This is the only chance we have.” There was a pause. “K-keep the troops there. This bridgehead must be defended, even at the cost of a few hundred lives…”

I began looking around the room as the conversation continued, searching for the source of it. After less than a minute of searching, I found the origin. Buried under a pile of curtains ripped from the walls was the bedroom’s television lying on its side, a bit roughed up, but still functional. Its screen was cracked, fracturing the picture into several parts each identical.

One of the ponies on the show playing spoke up. “I know, Private, I know. But what else are we to do now?”

“Well, anything! You want us to just hide ourselves away while a few try their best to protect us?! It’s insane! We can’t-“

“They’ll do their best to keep the wall from being overtaken!" whispered the Captain, “You know that. They’ll give their lives to keep it. We’re safe back here.”

“I don’t care! It still-“

“Stand down, Private Fletcher!” The Captain exploded, sweeping some books from a nearby table. “You’re in no position to tell me what to do! You’re not a military pony! You made arrows before the war, and I’m damn sure that means you aren’t qualified to tell me how to run this army! Now leave or by Celestia, I’ll make sure you’re one of the stallions up at the front!”

I turned off the television at that point, my eyes itching madly again as several more beads of water rolled down my face. I still wasn’t sure why my eyes were leaking.

With a grunt, I griped the heavy box and dragged it into the other room, positioning it in front of my armchair. I rubbed my eyes again, finally relieving the discomfort I’d been feeling and I felt my eyes dry up. I flicked the television on once again and quickly turned it to a different channel that didn’t make my eyes itch. I didn’t like that sensation and, thankfully, if everything went well, I’d never have to experience it again. I let the television run its program in the background.

I’ve had enough of crying.

With a strange new sense of determination, I stepped back into the bedroom and headed to what remained of my closet. I forced open the battered doors and rummaged through for a suitcase. I found one and quickly began filling it with whatever I got my hooves on. Into the bag went all of the sheet music I had brought with me, all of my Poison Joke, various other drugs, cartons of cigarettes, and any other vices.

I didn’t want any of it near me anymore. The drugs, the memories, the pain. I couldn’t stand any of it anymore. I wanted all of it gone.

But if I was going to do this, I was going to do it right.

I quickly turned around and scoured the rest of my hotel room for anything to get rid of. I worked at a feverish pace, almost fanatically shoving objects into my bags. I cleared out the room’s medicine cabinet, took the few unbroken bottle of alcohol and most of the food that wasn’t ingrained in the carpet. At this point, the case was close to bursting so I dragged it out onto the lanai, next to the pool and lurched back into the suite.

Inside, I took one final look around the rooms and grabbed one last thing: A picture of me and my wife. I took the picture out beside the pool and sat down on the first step, water lapping around my hooves and lower body. I twirled my forehooves in the water, but drew back as a sharp pain jolted from one of my hooves. Inky red swirls mixed with the blue of the pool water.

Deciding to get it over with, I reached into the saddlebags and picked out the first object and lobbed it into the deep end of the pool. Whatever it was hit the water with a satisfying splash and quickly sunk into the depths. I continued in this vein for a while, not really caring what I was throwing away, until my hooves gripped the familiar shape of a vinyl record.

I gingerly took it out and looked it over. It was one of mine, my very first album actually, the album that made the world fall in love with me. A scowl creased my face as I continued to look at it, feeling an inexplicable anger rise from the pits of my stomach.

I’ve had enough of joy.

With a shout of anger, I snapped the record in half and cast the remains out into the pool, where they floated languidly on the surface. I did the same to the few other records in the bag and to the sheet music I had also stuffed in there. I never wanted to see any of that ever again.

The next time I reached into the bag, I drew out a large bag of dried Poison Joke, nature’s most brutal hallucinogen, the destroyer of minds. It had always helped to take away the pain; it made me forget and helped me relax. But after its effects wore off, it left me in a stark moment of intense clarity that made me remember everything and made me hurt oh so much… Even the drug, despite however much it helped, continually betrayed me. I couldn’t trust anything.

I threw the clumps of Poison Joke into the pool and watched as the blue leaves slowly sunk to the bottom of the water, disappearing into the dark shadows, never to be seen again. Following that went several packs of cigarettes, the rest of the drugs and the few bottles of alcohol that remained unscathed.

I’ve had enough of drugs.

Next came the tattered photograph of Rêves and me on our wedding day. It had been taken as I carried her down the church steps shortly after we had taken our vows. We both looked so happy and carefree. I was smiling and so was she. We were so clean, so innocent…

But those days were all a lie, weren’t they? She never loved me.

Without any remorse, I cast the picture into the pool as well and watched as it sunk immediately to the bottom.

I’ve had enough of lies.

I reached for the next object, only to find the rest of the suitcase empty. With a snort, I swiped it into the pool as well and stood up, water dripping from my fur. I trotted back inside without so much as a cursory glance behind me and slammed the sliding glass doors that led to the patio. I hastily drew the curtains across the doors, leaving my bedroom blanketed in darkness.

I stalked back into the living room and turned up the television’s volume to a deafening decibel. The sounds washed over me, dampening all of the outside noise. The only other sensation was the frigid air blowing in from outside.

I was finally, truly alone.

I sighed in content and eased back into my chair, finally at ease with myself.

For the first time today, I felt like it was really over. It was so easy, just to lie there in the dark, without a care in the world or anything to disturb me. It was almost liberating. Patriotic, even. I had no obligations to anypony but myself, because I was all that remained.

On the television somepony laughed at some joke I had missed. I expect it wasn’t all that funny anyway. A few other ponies joined in on the first one’s laughter, filling the room with an echoing cacophony of giggling and laughing that made my ears ring. I quickly switched the channel a few times before settling on a cooking show.

The hostess said something about the combinations of fish fingers and custard, before I tuned her voice out. I practically stopped paying attention to the set altogether, the only evidence of the TV being the bight flashes of light illuminated every facet of the room in blatant detail. I briefly considered turning off the entire television, but couldn’t find the energy to do so.

I curled up in the lounge chair, resting my head on the arm, staring at the walls of the room in mild disinterest. These walls would be the only things I would see for the rest of my life, because I never planned on leaving my fortress. Before long, I would know every detail of this suite.

Something clattered to the floor behind me, causing me to blink in surprise at the sudden noise.

Glass from the broken window chinked together as a burst of wind wound its way through the room.

The pungent smell of wine soaked carpet wafted through the air.

One of my hooves still stung and throbbed, sending pain coursing through my veins.

I looked out over the shining lights of Canterlot and the faint stars in the sky.

The chair felt warm and sticky against my wet fur.

The hotel walls slowly began to close in around me as I watched them.

Warning lights flashed on my map.

The television flickered as the mare onscreen continued talking.

My mane settled down on top of my head, falling in front of my eyes and obscuring my vision partially.

The moon shone into the living room, sparkling off of glass shards littering the floor.

The walls shrunk in closer to me and my chair and the television and me.

The pony on TV said something about marmalade and rutabagas.

The carpet grew up past my withers, its fibers irritating my skin.

I sighed and watched as my breath fogged in the cold air and quickly formed a face in the mist.

The ceiling dripped something red and thick.

The fractured screen of the television split the picture up into several different parts.

The pony on screen smiled sadly and waved goodbye to the camera before fading away into blackness.

And in my mind’s eye I saw the Wall I had built.

I felt the love, warmth and security that radiated off of the Wall and felt so at peace. I knew that It would protect me from the cold, harsh outside and I knew how I had never wanted anything more than to leave this world behind.

I glanced behind me and noticed a solitary brick lying in the middle of the floor, surrounded by nothing by blackness. I was in an endless void.

I walked over to the brick, my hooves resonating in the empty expanse. I picked the brick up and ran my hooves over its immaculately smooth, white surface. I looked back at the Wall and noted that It still had space for one more brick; the very one I held now.

With brick in hoof, I trotted back over to the Wall, standing in front of the gap, the only thing left before the Wall was finally completed. I gently slid the last brick into place and stumbled backwards as a bright flash of light as energy coursed down the Wall, blinding me.

Yes, safety, at last.

My entire body relaxed as the light faded. It was finally done. The Wall was built.

I had never felt more alive than I did at that moment. Something blossomed deep inside of me and it took several moments for me to realize that it was pure joy, something I hadn’t felt for so long. It was… indescribable.

I took a hesitant step forward, towards the Wall that seemed to beckon me closer with each passing second. As I approached it, thoughts of all my troubles and of my friends and family passed through my mind. Everything I would be leaving behind. Everypony I would depart.

I stopped briefly, weighing my options. Protection or fear? Happiness or death? Was there even a contest? This was worth it. I had to be safe. I needed to breathe. So, I left my qualms and feelings on the floor, just outside the Wall, casting them away.

I’ve had enough of trying to love.

There was nothing anypony, or even I, could do now. I had cut all my losses so long ago and with one more step, I could finally be free. I could finally soar. This was my one and only fate, I knew, and it was that thought that brought peace and tranquility to my mind at that last second.

I took another step forward, more confidently than before and embraced the Wall, which embraced me back, locking me within Its comforting, secure arms.

And as it closed in around me, I knew that this was the finest thing that could have ever happened. The Wall was complete and now I would finally be safe from all the bad and evil.

I could finally be happy. I could finally be the only thing I’ve ever wanted to be: Me. Me and nopony else. No pretenses, no masks, no misgivings and no judging. Just me, myself and I and me.

And as the Wall slammed shut and I felt my pain slowly receding, one last thought crossed my mind.

Goodbye everypony.

Goodbye cruel world.

Goodbye.

Goodb-

Author's Note

Based on “Goodbye Cruel World”

Chapter Thirteen: Getting Lonely, Getting Old

Chapter Thirteen

Getting Lonely, Getting Old

“You look very nice tonight, Miss!” came his pleasant, sugary voice from the hallway. A chill ran all the way down my spine as I heard the young stallion’s words. I scooted further under the table, hoping that he wouldn’t find me and silently prayed to the powers above that tonight would be a normal night.

My mum giggled slightly. “Oh Butch, you charmer, you flatter me too much.”

He chuckled along with her. “Well, it’s only because you look so nice every time I see you. You always look so darling in whatever outfit you wear. I don’t know how you do it!”

“Oh, it just comes natural to me, I suppose.” I managed to suppress a gag while the conversation continued. “Now, I’ll be back around midnight, so that gives you and my little Pink a full ten hours of fun time together. Oh, I know he always looks forward to when you sit for him, even if he always hides when you first get here. It’s adorable!” She giggled again.

“He’s a wonderful little colt.” agreed Butch, my foalsitter, “I always enjoy watching over him… Now, you go on and have a fabulous night, Miss. I’ll take care of your darling Pink. The emergency contacts are in their usual spot?”

“They are. I tell you Butch, I can’t tell you how much having you here puts my mind at ease. I trust you so much more than any of the other sitters.”

“Thank you Ma’am. Now, I have everything under control here,” he lied through his teeth, “Go on, I wouldn’t want you to be late or anything.”

I choked back a sob. Ten horrifying hours of Butch were fast approaching. Oh, Celestia, why did my mum have to go out tonight of all nights and leave me with him of all ponies? I had begged and pleaded with her not to go, but she had her mind set on having a relaxing evening away with some friends. I would have been fine with any other sitter, but when she told me that Butch was going to be watching me, my heart shattered.

Butch was a slim, but powerful sickly orange unicorn stallion, just on the cusp of stallionhood. He had wormed his way into my mum’s trust with compliments and gifts, until she trusted me with him. She even came to like him the best out of all of my sitters, despite my constant objections. And I could never tell her why I didn’t like him because he would find me and…

My mother spoke up again. “Alright then. See you later tonight Butch. I hope Pink won’t be too much trouble….”

The teen stallion scoffed. “He’ll be fine, I’m sure. He’s an angel. Now go. I’ll keep him out of trouble. Toodle-loo!”

The door shut.

My pupils shrunk to pinpricks.

Butch’s airy, high-pitched giggle reached my ears. “Oohhhh Pinky! Little Pinkyton! Where are you hiding this time?!”

I gulped and flattened myself against the wall even more. Maybe if I hid well enough, he would give up. I hoped the table wasn’t too obvious a hiding spot.

Oh, how I would give up everything just to skip tonight.

Butch trotted into the living room, where I was hiding. His hoofs clattered on the old wood floor. I held my breath for a moment, not even willing to breathe, lest it give away my position.

“Oh where could my little, baby Pinky be? I would be oh so sad if I couldn’t find him.” He hummed merrily to himself as he looked for me around the room. “Oh where, oh where, could my Pink have gone, oh where, oh where could he be?!”

I could see his silhouette through the tablecloth draped over the table I was under. He moved closer to my hiding spot. “Now don’t make me look for you all night, silly-billy.” he sang, “I might just have to punish you even more if you don’t come out.”

I clenched my eyes shut as his form grew closer to my table.

Please, no…

“Are you under this table, I wonder?”

Oh Celestia, no, no…

“That’s not a good hiding spot, Pink. You’ll have to do better than that.” His hoof reached out and gripped the tablecloth.

No, no, no, no, no…

The table cloth was torn away abruptly revealing the grinning, almost feminine face of Butch. “There you are sunshine.” he cooed, “What’re you doing under there?”

His hooves gripped mine and he dragged me out from under the table. I yelled and kicked out with my hind legs, feeling them connect with the soft tissue of Butch’s stomach. The unicorn grunted and threw me across the room in a brief fit of anger. I scrambled away and cowered behind the side of the couch. “You got a little fight in you this time, do you?” he asked as he gipped his abdomen in pain. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself and gradually made his way over to where I was hiding, another grin plastered on his face. “That’s fine,” he exhaled, “It just makes the conquest all that more satisfying, and I know I will enjoy it so very much…”

I took that moment to try and sprint into the other room, but my immature body wasn’t quick enough. As I was halfway to the doorway, I heard the telltale sound of magic behind me and I knew all was lost. Butch’s magic gripped down hard on my tail, sending my head smacking down onto the floor. I briefly thought about trying to crawl a few more inches in the hope that I could maybe escape, but I knew that I couldn’t escape Butch’s grip.

My sitter’s hoofsteps calmly approached from behind me. “Now dear, you know I’m going to get you one way or the other tonight. “He giggled and lessened up the magic wrapped around my tail. “So don’t try to escape, alrighty?”

He let go of my tail completely and I immediately curled up into a ball, quaking as fear racked my body. I chanced a quick look up at Butch as he loomed over me. His smile widened as his eyes roamed over every inch of my body. “Pink, I see your body is just as fabulous as I remember.” He breathed in deeply, probably taking in as much of my scent as he could. “I just want you to know you’re my favorite of all the colts I sit for.”

I choked back a sob. I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t want him to... I don’t think I would ever forget the things Butch did to me every time he came over, but I was too weak to stop them, however much I wanted to. And I could never tell anypony, especially my mum, about what happened during the nights he visited because he threatened me with things I didn’t even want to think about.

Butch picked me up by the scruff of my neck and carried me over to the couch. He threw me down on the cushions like he had so many times before and held my hooves down with his magic. “Now,” he whispered as he slowly straddled me, “Let’s have some fun, Pinky…”

His magic’s embrace gagged my mouth and I screamed so very loud and yet nopony could hear me.

Help.

Help me please.

Somepony, anypony.

Help.

Things behind my Wall weren’t what I thought they were going to be. There was no comforting embrace and no assurances of a pleasant future. It was not what I was expecting at all. I felt worse than when I retreated into myself, hiding from my fears.

I could still see the hotel room I was sitting in. I could still feel the coarse material of my armchair. I could still hear the chattering of the television. I could still feel the permeating cold air. But I wasn’t there in that room any longer. I had run inside of my own brain, receding behind the Wall I had constructed throughout my life, trying to hide from my problems.
And it worked.

It worked so very well.

And now I can’t get back out.

I locked things away behind my Wall. Terrible things, horrible things. There were repressed memories and thoughts I never wanted in my head ever again. I forced all my emotions behind the Wall. I kept all my true feelings and worst memories inside of myself, with the intention of never thinking of them ever again. I made the Wall to protect me from everything that went wrong in my life, the injustices done to me by everypony I knew. I hid my trauma deep within me.

So all those memories and feelings were waiting for me when I withdrew behind my Wall. All of my most primal fears, all of my foulest memories were laid out before me, practically forcing themselves into my head.

And I’m so, so terrified. I’m pounding at the ground in desperation, calling out beyond as loud as I can for help. I can’t get out of here, no matter how much I try. I’m screaming and crying and near tearing my hair out in sheer terror. I don’t like it here.

But it’s all in vain. All of my shouting and sobbing and self-harm did nothing. I’m still sitting in this chair, staring blankly at the flashing television and feeling the wind rustle my mane. And I'm still trapped inside that prone figure, a prisoner in my own body.

But pleading for help is all I can do.

Help me, anypony, please.

I beg of you, rescue me before I feel any more.

I’m so lonely here.

Just… Would you touch me…?

Would you please just hold me?

“Come on slowpoke!” yelled one of the colts, a brown unicorn, over his back, “You’re holdin’ us all up! We’re never gonna get there if you don’t hurry your ass up!”

I glanced at the top of the hill where the other three colts were waiting impatiently. I grinned sheepishly, “Sorry!” I broke into a gallop and caught up with the rest of the group. “I… uhh… I guess I got a little distracted. Sorry.”

A different colt, a gray unicorn, scoffed. “Yeah whatever. Just don’t let it happen again.” We started walking down the trail again, plodding along in silence for a few moments. The gray colt spoke up again. “What was so interestin’ anyways, huh? What, you get hungry and eat a bit of grass of somethin’?”

My ears perked up at the question. “Nah, nothin’ like that.” I responded cheerfully, “There were some nice lilac colored flowers growin’ on the side of the road so I stopped and smelled them, and-”

The rest of my sentence was cut off by the three colt’s raucous laughter. “You- You stopped and smelled some flowers!?” said one, almost in disbelief, “Jeez, you are a pussy, ain’t you? Come on, what kind of colt smells flowers? That shit’s for fillies!”

“Oh, well…” I was lost for words. I felt as if a stone had settled in the pits of my stomach.

“And what’s li-lac anyways?” said another colt, this one an orange pegasus, “Not only are you a pussy, you’re also a bookworm!” He nudged the unicorn next to him. “Why’d you bring this bitch along again?”

“I don’t know! I thought he seemed cool at the time, but I guess not.” I felt tears spring to my eyes, but I managed to keep myself from crying in front of them. They were being so… mean! “Anyways, we’ll ditch this pink pussy when we get back. Too late to turn back now, eh?”

The pegasus glanced in my direction, a sneer plastered on his face. “I guess…” He licked his lips. “Well, come on then! Let’s go, lads!” The pegasus and two unicorns set off at a brisk trot without warning, leaving me to bring up the rear.

The colts’ words were hurtful. I wasn’t weak or anything like that! I just… I just liked appreciating nature more than most colts my age. I thought maybe they would understand or even agree with me, but it looked like, just like my poetry, I couldn’t ever share that with anypony either. The whole class laughed at me when Sir read one of my poems to them. Some ponies were so… brutish! I sighed and picked up the pace, staying slightly behind the group of rowdy colts.

We walked through the empty fields at the edge of town for a while before we reached our destination. We stood on the edge of a large, bleak canyon that scarred the landscape for miles. The aptly named Ghastly Gorge.

“Well,” shouted the leader of the group, the brown unicorn, over the whistling wind, “Here we are gents! Ghastly Gorge! They fought a couple of battles here a while back! Thought we could scavenge a bit, try to scrounge up some military stuff or somthin’!”

The other two colts yelled out in agreement, making their way closer to the edge, but I hesitated. “Isn’t this place dangerous!? My mum said to steer clear of it!” I yelled over the gusts of air blowing out of the canyon.

The pegasus chuckled. “You gonna listen to your mum or come with us!? You might be able to make up for being such a sissy!” He gestured to the others and flapped his wings, hovering off the ground. “Well, come on then!” He rocketed into the air and dove into the ravine, quickly disappearing from sight, his shouts of joy also dissipating.

The two unicorns glanced at each other, excited smiles spreading across their faces. Their horns sparked with magic and the pair of them lifted into the air, sailing after the pegasus, leaving me standing alone at the edge of the chasm. None of them even looked back.

I gulped and chanced a quick look over the side. The canyon walls dropped in a slant, ending a couple of meters down at a ledge where the colts were waiting. I took a deep breath and steeled my nerves. If I did this, I could maybe win back their favor and be friends with them. And if I didn’t, I’m sure the rest of the school would know about it before the next day.

I had to do it.

I took a hesitant step off the edge, my hoof scrambling for purchase on the rough rock. I found a solid spot that seemed strong enough to support my weight and edged myself over into the valley. I reached down with my other hindleg, almost immediately finding another hoofhold. I continued like this, easing myself down the wall bit by bit until I was at least halfway down.

I glanced down at the three colts waiting below. I saw the gray unicorn’s horn begin to glow and heard a snicker of amusement float up from below on the wind. The dip in the rock wall my right forehoof was holding on to glowed with a distinctive magical aura. My voice shaking with fear, I called down to them, “What are you doing! My hoof’s there! You're gonna make me-“

Then the magic ejected my hoof from its grip, throwing it out into thin air. I flailed wildly for a few moments, desperately trying to find my hoofhold again, but the colt’s magic prevented me from regaining my grips. I clenched my teeth as my other three legs cried out in protest, trying not to focus on the few hundred or so feet to the bottom.

But my young muscles were not remotely strong enough to support my weight yet.

My left hindleg shot out from under me first, followed shortly after by my two remaining hooves. Wind rushed by my ears for a moment and I screamed out in pure terror as I fell. I hit the rapidly sloping canyon walls with a solid thump and I thrashed madly for anything to hold on to, but found nothing. The coarse rock dug into my skin, skinning my pink coat off in some places, leaving a streak of blood where I slid.

I skidded to a stop at the ledge at the hooves of the three colts. I shakily raised my head and looked at the three laughing colts in front of me. “…W-why…?” I croaked, hardly able to breathe. Why had they thrown me off of the canyon wall?

The brown unicorn managed to stop laughing to spit out a response. “Why? W-Why not? You’ll bou- bounce back from it if you’re colt e-enough.”

The pegasus looked at me, a smile on his face. “Besides,” he chuckled, “Nopony’s gonna look for your sorry ass anyways. Pink, what a pussy name. I bet your mum is a drunkard, for givin’ a colt a name like that.” he scoffed.

“…N… No…” I managed to mumble as darkness rapidly took my vision. “Dun… Talk ‘bout… My ma li-like tha…”

The gray unicorn looked down at me, eyes wide. “What was that?

I tried to form a coherent word. “I…”

But that was a far as I ever got. The pegasus kicked me hard in the ribs. “Shut up, pussy.” He gestured to the other two colts. “Come on lads; let’s go find some war gear!”

The three of them strode off, leaping off the ledge down to the bottom of the canyon leaving me all alone on a small shelf halfway down a gorge in the middle of nowhere. Those bastard unicorns and that pegasus abandoned me.

I didn’t slip away into unconsciousness for hours. I called out as much as my weakened voice would allow, hoping somepony passing by would hear and come rescue me.

It was all I could do.

But nopony came by and helped. I laid there all evening and well into the night. Freezing cold canyon air blew over my body to the point where I couldn’t feel any of my limbs, though that was probably better, given my injuries.

I don’t know when I fell asleep and I don’t know when the stallion found me but when I finally awoke, I was lying on the back of a teal, middle-aged pegasus. I picked my head up and looked around. We were walking away from the Gorge back towards town.

The pegasus glanced back at me and smiled. He must have felt me wake up. He smiled at me and stopped, He stooped down and eased me off of his back with his wings, letting the both of us rest a bit before continuing into town.

We sat in the grass for a while, neither of us bothering to say anything. He had tended to my wounds; bandages wound their way around my body, stemming anymore blood from seeping out of my gashes. They still stung a lot, but after hours of lying in the dirt, I was used to the pain they caused.

The pegasus was decked out in armour, signifying that he was in the Equestrian Army. Must have been patrolling the Gorge that night and found me, I figured. Right now, he was leaning back, helmet resting on the ground next to him.

He glanced in my direction. “So,” the stallion finally spoke up, breaking the silence, “What happened to you then? What’s a colt your age doin’ all the way out here?”

I didn’t respond, and the stallion seemed to take as a cue to to continue speaking. “I hope you weren’t trying to join the military or somethin’, kid. There’s no glory there, I’ll tell you that much.” He glanced at me expectantly, but I kept my head down. I didn’t feel like talking much.

The stallion seemed to understand though. “Alright,” he sighed, “you can keep your secrets. Celestia knows I’m no interrogator. But I’ll help you get back to town, alright? I’m sure you can find your parents or somethin’ from there. I’ll leave you be.”

I grunted in affirmation and he smiled in response. We rested for a little longer. I looked up at the night sky, but the stars had all been obscured by clouds, leaving the night seem all that emptier. I yawned and curled up in the grassy field, thinking about the colts and their bullying.

After a while, the stallion stood up and walked over to me. “Can you walk by yourself, or…?” I tried rising to my hooves, and for a moment, it seemed like I was steady enough to walk, but then my left hindleg shot out from under to me and I fell back on the ground. The stallion chuckled as I slowly shook my head no. He bent down so I cold clamber onto his back, pushing me up with his wings.

He set off at a steady pace back towards town, trying not to jostle me around too much. I yawned again, exhausted by the day’s events and wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep in my own bed. I could only imagine what mum would think when she saw me. She must be worried sick about now.

When I returned to school, I would never talk to those unicorns or pegasus ever again. I thought they were cool, but they proved me different after today’s events. They couldn’t be trusted.

The stallion spoke again, interrupting my thoughts. “Will you at least tell me your name, kid?” I didn’t respond and he sighed. “You know, I got a son back home that’s about your age and same coat color too. Your name wouldn’t happen to be…”

But my eyes had already closed and my mind already drifted asleep. His words floated through one ear and out the other.

My hoof itched and I couldn’t scratch it.

I was lost, alone and afraid in the dark, unknown recesses of my mind. There were things here I never wanted to see again. Evil thoughts and memories that stalked through my mind, hungry and lean after years without anything to latch on to and suck dry. I was fresh meat in the lion’s den. They ate into my brain.

It was so empty here and I was the emptiest of everything. My eyes were hollow and lifeless, looking out over the immeasurable nothingness without a spark of recognition. I was bled dry. My skin was cold and plastic-like to the touch, garnering no warmth from the void around me.

But I could still feel the chair I was sitting in, like a phantom touch. I could turn my head and see my hotel room out of the corner of my eyes. I could hear a mare on the television lecturing me on the proper use of thyme and hear her oven’s timer ticking away the moments until her soufflé was finished.

And my hoof itched, and I couldn’t move to relieve it. I was stuck, unable to find the energy, will and means to move my body. I was stuck inside my own mind with no means or hope of escape.

In my mind, I was crying, screaming, hollering, venting, shrieking, shouting, bellowing until my voice grew hoarse and I could hardly move my limbs anymore, lamenting about how unfair it was to be locked away by my own devices. I banged on the ground that wasn’t there, sobbing into my hooves until I was out of breath.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I was weighed down by so much and with nopony to help carry my heavy burden of stones; I was being crushed under its bulk.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t blink.

All I wanted was for somepony to hear me, to see me, to help me. There were so many ponies out there, but none of them noticed me because none of them were near me. All I wanted was for one to hold me, to help stave off this cold loneliness, to help chase away this fear.

I just wanted somepony to help me, to rip me from my own mind and save me. I wasn’t strong enough to escape this torment on my own.

All I could do is hope.

My hoof twitched and slowly but surely, moved over to my other hoof and scratched the itch that was plaguing me.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to mourn the passing…”

The old pony up on stage was talking about something. I didn’t know what. I was standing next to mommy, who was holding a handkerchief up to her eyes, dabbing at something. We were in a small crowd of ponies, all wearing black and we were all staring up at the old stallion in the front and the black, pony-sized box behind him.

Mommy had been crying all this morning, but I didn’t know why. She got all dressed up in a frilly, black dress and insisted that I put on some smelly old, black suit that she got from Celestia knows where. She said we had to go to a thing called a fun-eral but I didn’t want to go. I told her that, but she persisted and dragged me out to this room and introduced me to all sorts of strange ponies I didn’t know. They all seemed to look at me in pity, but I didn’t know why

Whatever this fun-eral was, it didn’t seem much fun. Nopony was laughing, nopony was enjoying themselves, nopony was having fun. All we were doing was listening to this stallion with the black box up on stage. I didn’t know what we were doing here; this was so boring. I shifted around in my seat, slowly losing my attention in the whole affair. Mommy glanced down at my and wrapped a comforting hoof around my shoulders. Her face was streaked with tears.

As time went by, the old stallion got down from the stage and several other ponies from the crowd went up there and talked about things. It sounded like they were talking about some stallion friend of theirs. From the stories they were telling, he sounded like a fun pony to be around; I wondered if he was in the crowd somewhere. Maybe this fun-eral was some sort of party or something?

Oh, he must have been in the black box, hiding, waiting until the end of all these ponies’ speeches to pop out and talk to us.

I couldn’t wait for that, I decided.

And then mommy went up to the front, leaving me alone in the very front row. She was silent for a few moments but then she started to cry and unsteadily walked back to her seat next to me. A few ponies came over to her and talked to her while the first stallion went back up on stage. He said a few words that I missed and left the stage, letting the few ponies in attendance break out into quiet murmurings, as if they were too afraid to talk normally.

It stayed like this for a while. Ponies whispered to each other and mommy sat there crying, a few others patting her on the back and whispering to her as well. I started to fidget again as things began to wind down. I didn’t’ have anything to do and none of the adults wanted to talk to me. I was so bored.

Eventually, a long time later, the ponies cleared out, leaving me and mommy all alone in the room with the black box. Mommy took a deep breath and stood up, walking over to the box. She looked at it for a few moments in silence and put her hooves on the top of it, stroking it. I could hear her crying again.

I got up and crept over beside her hunched form. I glanced at the box questioningly. Where was the stallion that everypony was talking about? I was confused; this entire day had been so confusing.

I tugged gently on my mommy’s dress and she looked at me, black makeup melting down her face. “Mommy,” I began to ask her, “Mommy, who’s in the box? Is he gonna come out soon?”

My mommy looked at me for a few seconds, with the look of a mare who had lost everything. She blinked and began to wail even harder. She fell to her knees, clutching me tight. “Ooh, Pi-ink, darling!” she cried in between her body-racking sobs.

“Ooohh Pink! Y- You don’t know! I’m soooo sorry…!”

I think she would have said more, but I don’t think she could have.

So I stood there, my mommy wrapped around my body, crying into my shoulder, wondering why she was so sad.

So I hugged her back.

I found an end to the darkness.

It was my Wall.

It stretched up so far into the heavens that I started to think the blackness I was in was merely the Wall’s shadow. Its gleaming white bricks stood out from the empty void in stark contrast so much that it almost hurt to look at it after seeing nothing but black for so long.

I approached it, staring at the black under my feet, trying not to look directly at the Wall in case it blinded me. Its bricks slotted perfectly together; there was no space between them, no visible signs of mortar. No weakness.

No escape.

I banged on the Wall In frustration, begging to be set free, but no help came. I was alone, as I had always been my entire life. I screamed in anger and scraped at the Wall, hoping I could pry a brick loose. I scratched and kicked and punched the bricks until my hooves dripped with blood and the Wall was stained with smears of red. But nothing worked.

I sighed and sat down, facing away from the towering mass of white. I didn’t know what to do. I was trapped in here with everything I never wanted to remember again and I couldn’t escape. Nopony would come to my rescue; these bricks were too solid, too thick, for any sound to carry through to the outside.

And even then, who would help me? Who would I want to help me? Everypony I knew and used to love left and abandoned me. There was nopony I trusted anymore besides myself, and I was of no use to myself right now.

I was still sitting in my chair in the penthouse room of a Canterlot hotel in the middle of the night and I could hardly move myself. Sure, I could twitch my hooves a bit or roll my eyes around the room, but that was all I could manage at the moment.

I was removed from my own mind, and yet I resided in it, like a prisoner in maximum guard. The Wall was meant to protect me but all it did was trap me inside myself.

I gave the Wall one final punch and galloped away from it as hard as I could. I didn’t tire, I didn’t falter, and I didn’t look back until I was far away from the boundary of my mind.

Maybe I could find something out in the darkness, besides even more pain. Maybe I could find some help.

And in my room, I strained every muscle until my previously limp form rose out of the chair and gazed around at the debris scattered around the floor.

It was all so… disorganized.

I was walking down the dark, empty streets for a bit. Light shone out from the windows of buildings lining the road, but it did little to illuminate the night. Even the sky was dark; the stars and moon were blanketed with a thick cover of clouds, casting the city into darkness.

It was a lonely, desolate scene. I hadn’t seen another soul since I left the recording studio a few minutes ago and set off for home. Granted, it was around one in the morning and I had spent a few more hours in the studio than I should have, but the city seemed almost dead. The quiet, almost eerie stillness made me nervous and I began to walk faster, hoping to get back home sooner. I pulled my saddlebags snugger around my middle as if they would protect me against whatever my panicky mind would create out of the shadows.

Up ahead of me was the dull, flickering glow of a streetlamp. It barely illuminated a few feet in any direction, but it was enough for me to nearly gallop toward it, desperate to get out of the dark. I reached the lamppost and leaned on it, slightly out of breath and silently berating myself for being so silly. I knew there wasn’t anything in the dark, except for what my over reactive imagination could imagine up, but that didn’t stop me from becoming scared.

But the light managed to stave off my nervous terrors and I felt myself more calm and relaxed than I was a few seconds ago. I sighed and started off down the road again, whistling a tune I had woken up with in my head one morning. I was thinking of some lyrics to but to the music when I thought I heard hoofsteps behind me. I stopped and listened, but heard nothing and continued on, my heart beating faster in my chest.

A few minutes later, I could have sworn I heard some voices behind me and again I stopped to listen, but the noises stopped as soon as I did. By now, my body was alert and my mind was plaguing me with fanciful thoughts of beasts lurking in the shadows.

I picked up my pace, as did the hoofsteps behind me. I was now convinced I was being followed by something and I broke into a full gallop. Behind me, I heard a shout of “Afta’ him!” and a frantic scrabbling of hooves on the cobblestone road.

I ran forward blindly and erratically, hoping that I could lose my pursuers with pure speed, but I knew I couldn’t; I wasn’t any sort of athlete. Thankfully, up ahead, I saw an alleyway and darted into it, hoping that it led through into a different, safer, well-lit street.

But it didn’t.

Immediately, I was faced with a high brick wall, a dead-end. I spun around just as my pursuers turned the corner to follow me. I was trapped. “Aha! Got ‘chu now!” yelled one of them. I could make out the silhouettes of five or six ponies, unicorns and pegasi by the looks of it, as they slowly approached me.

One of the unicorn’s horns lit up, dousing the alley in a sickly bluish light. “Well, well, well… Lookie ‘ere boys, this dirt pony sure is lively, ain’t ‘ee?” muttered the unicorn, who I could only assume was the leader of the group.

I gulped and took a step back, feeling my tail swish against the bricks behind me; I had nowhere to go. “N-Now…” I stammered, “Now, I’m sure we can c-come to some so…sort of agreement here…” I trailed off as the stallions continued to approach me.

The leader chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure we could, luv, if you weren’t some piece of shit dirt pony!” I flinched at the stallion’s words. They were Sweepers, aptly named for their deep-seated belief that we ‘dirt’ ponies were inferior to the unicorns and pegasi and did their best to sweep away the dirt. A lone earth pony was lucky if he got away from Sweepers alive and even then, they tended to not be able to move for the rest of their lives.

Fuck me. Why did I have to stay out so late?

They were almost on top of me now. The unicorns’ horns were sparking with magic and the pegasi’s wings were fluttering in anticipation of putting down another lowly dirt pony. The pegasus on the left leapt on me, holding down my backlegs. I kicked out, trying to buck him off, but he hovered above the ground and hung me upside down before I could. I watched the wrong way up as a different pegasus approached me and slugged a punch directly into my stomach, laughing while he did it.

My breath was forced out of my body in an instant and before I even had the chance to take another gulp of air, a volley of kicks and punches landed on just every part of my body. I couldn’t even see who had done it to me before I felt the strange itch of magic twist my right foreleg behind my back, eliciting a shout of pain from me.

Another pony kicked my head to the side, sending blood spurting from my mouth. I vaguely heard a voice complain about the stain of red I got all over his coat before I was hit again, harder than ever before. I think that hit broke the pegasus’ grip on my legs, because I abruptly fell to the ground, landing on my head with a solid thud and barely rolled forward in time to avoid snapping my neck.

It went on like this for a few moments, each pony taking turns beating the life out of me. Another pegasus hung my upside down by my legs again. After a while, I couldn’t see or hear from the amount of blood that was dripping down my face. Thick, warm blood dripped down into my mouth, ears, nose and eyes, clogging up my senses and leaving me even more defenseless than before.

I don’t know how long they attacked me for, but all of a sudden, they stopped. I fell to the round again, sending pain coursing through my body. I laid there on the ground for a moment, taking deep breaths, trying to regain some sense of composure. I was mystified as to why they suddenly vanished; Sweepers never stopped until their victim was dead.

I groaned and managed to wipe some of the blood out of my eyes. I blinked a few times only to find that my assailants had indeed vanished. In their place was a lone dark blue pegasus wearing glimmering gold armor, identifying him as one of the city’s guards. He walked forward, shining a small light around the alleyway that was attached to his helmet; presumably a unicorn-made light source. The sharp beam of light fell on my body, shining into my eyes, blinding me for a moment.

The pegasus stallion rushed over to me, dimming his light. I could see his mouth moving, but my ears were too congested with blood to hear him. Seeing that I didn’t respond, he flipped me over and managed to hoist me onto his back, with some difficulty. He began trotting away as fast as he could, hopefully bringing me to a hospital.

As he trotted, I watched the cobblestones pass beneath the pony’s hooves and the drips of blood that marked our trail from the alley. We passed the time in a half-silence, the only other sounds being the clip-clop of his hooves on the street and his labored breathing.

A few more seconds of this went by before I realized that I could hear again. Enough of the blood must have dripped from my ears. “...Hey…” I groaned, “T-Thanks…”

The stallion glanced over his shoulder at me, relief breaking out on his face. “Oh thank Celestia! You’re still alive! I… I thought those damned Sweepers got another one…” He trailed off. “Well, hopefully not. The hospital should be able to patch you up pretty well. You don’t look half bad, and hey, all of your limbs are still attached, unlike other victims, so you’re doing alright…” He was silent for a few more moments before he spoke up again. “Uhh… What’s your name?”

“…Puh- Pink…” I managed to reply.

“Pink Floyd?!” exclaimed the stallion, “The Pink Floyd? The musician Pink Floyd?” I could hear the excitement in his voice. Must be a fan.

I smiled weakly and tried to sigh, only to start coughing up blood. “The one and only…”

There was something forming, coalescing in this void.

I ran further and further into the blackness, but what I was escaping from I didn’t know. Nothing seemed to work. My terrors and nightmares chased after me, hunting me down and forcing their ugliness back inside my head. And I continued to run, faster and farther than ever before.

But I couldn’t outrun myself.

There were times that I heard faint echoes of sound emanate from all around me, calling out to me. The emptiness wasn’t silent any longer. I think something was coming but I didn’t know what, so I kept running further and further back.

The blackness continued to swirl around me, turning darker and gloomier every seconds I thundered forward. If I couldn’t feel my hooves attached to my legs, I wouldn’t even know they were there.

It was then that a form stepped out of the shadows, nearly a hoof’s length away from me, coming into my path. I skidded to a stop, nearly avoiding hitting him and scrambled away from the stallion.

Why was there somepony else in my head?

The pony slowly approached me as I backed away from him, but his legs seemed to stretch unnaturally and in a few strides, he was upon me. Despite the darkness, I could make out his every feature as if he was standing in stark daylight. He was a light gray stallion, around the same color of my eyes, but his coat was patchy and what little of it was left hung off of his clearly emancipated from. His face was scarred and blotchy, his pink skin showing through his sparse coat. He had a pink mane that hung limp and matted down his back.

He towered over me, staring at me with contempt. I trembled under his gaze and tried to back away, but I never seemed to get any further. He leaned down at me and sneered, his teeth yellow and crooked.

He opened his mouth to say something, but I quickly jumped to my hooves and shoved him to the ground. He stumbled backwards, obviously startled and I took off running before he could follow, leaving him behind in the darkness.

I ran away from the pony and never looked back.

He was me, I realized

He was the part of me made up of all the anger, repressed memories and feelings I had locked behind the Wall. He had laid in wait for so long, living through everything I never wanted to experience again, never seeing the light of day.

And now we were both trapped here.

Neither of us could help the other. Neither of us could escape. All we could do was play hide and go seek with each other in this dark void. But I never wanted him to find me again.

I retreated further into that black emptiness, hoping that he wouldn’t follow me.

Divided, I stand strong. I’m sure I could find my way out of here and away from the other me.

But together? I would rather fall even lower than meet him again.

Author's Note

Based on "Hey You"

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

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As I galloped further into the back of my mind, I think I was crying. I wasn’t sure; I couldn’t tell anymore. Everything in this bleak, expressionless void all felt and looked the same and I just couldn’t take it anymore. Things had happened so fast.

I was being chased by everything that I had tried to run away from my entire life, myself included. I could feel it all pursuing me, breathing down my neck, wanting so much to just take a bite out of my mind once again, to eat into my head, to bleed me dry.

The void was getting warmer the further I ran. It beat down on me like the sun was mere inches from my body, burning me with nonexistent fire. I think it was anger. It was the wrath of everything that I locked way behind my Wall all these years. It was pure, unbridled fury directed at me and me alone. I could feel it writhing and seething all around me, filling the emptiness with a hot, muggy mass.

So I ran. I ran from my vengeful memories.

In my hotel room, I stood up from my chair. I took a hesitant step forward and felt something crunch under my hoof. Unsteadily, I looked down at the floor and, with unwavering eyes, registered just how unorganized it was for the first time that night. I could hardly move around the hotel suite without trampling upon something if I was fully conscious, but in my current condition, it was a minefield.

And I hated it. It was so, messy, so unclean. It wasn’t right. I loathed it. I hated it. I hated it. I… I…

My eye twitched involuntarily and I ran my hooves through my mane. Oh fuck, it was wrong. Everything was wrong. Everything. Wrong.

I had to fix it. Maybe if I cleaned up my prison, I could find a way out of my mind. Yes, I had to try. I had to do something. Everything just felt so…so... filthy…

I had to. I couldn’t stand it.

I dropped to the floor and swept a large patch of the debris to the side and began working. Maybe I could escape.

And I continued running and crying and running deep into the blackness.

IS THERE ANYPONY OUT THERE?

The television was situated directly in front of my chair.

It was the center of the entire room, the centerpiece for how I was going to organize the room.

I shoved most of the debris to the side so that I had a clean working area to start out with.

I had to organize this clutter, this mess of a room.

I first found some bits amongst the carnage.

Those I arranged down the center, from the TV to the chair from largest amount to smallest.

Around those, I lined some slightly bent paper clips that looked like an ‘s’.

The ones that didn't look like an ‘s’ went to the side of some interestingly shaped shards of wood I found.

There was a table frame, its glass top long shattered.

It was in front of the couch, so I didn't move it.

Should I move it…?

No, no… It had to stay there.

Moving it would mess up everything else.

There were some tufts of cotton that I arranged in a circle around the remnants of several broken bottles.

I decorated the outside of that circle with some mints that I found next to wrappers of some sort.

No.

Not next to those wrappers.

The mints had to go near the dinner plates that had cats on the outside edges.

Yes.

That worked.

The wrappers, though, were neatly on a cloth off to the right of a broken picture frame containing empty cartons of cigarettes.

I found my saddlebags lying on top of the couch so I took it off and hung it from the television’s antennae.

There were some broken records that I organized in a row based on color and the amount they were broken.

I pieced them together as best I could, fitting fragment to fragment.

The records were all black, but some of them weren't as broken so they went at the top of the line near the broken guitars, but not in front of them.

The guitars were arranged in a cross pattern, some missing the necks or knobs or bodies.

One guitar in particular was missing the entire faceplate and I couldn't find it so I could put them together.

Instead, I filled it with blankets and cloth and place some picture without a picture frame on top.

The guitars were laid out in rows in front of the TV, and the bits I organized earlier were bordering them.

I gathered some cutlery and stacked them on top of each other in an ‘x’ pattern.

It felt right, so I had to do it.

There was one particular knife that was bent in such a way that it almost resembled a crude hammer and I put it in the coat pocket of a coat that was hanging off of a coat rack that I had put just to the left of the television.

I also swept all the dust into rows that lined the entire outside of where I was organizing everything, defining my zone.

No.

What was I thinking putting the saddle bags on the antennae?

I took it off and hung off the coat rack next to the umbrella and opposite the coat.

There were some old books that I found.

I ripped out all of their pages and stacked them all according to the page number around a second picture frame that wasn’t quite as broken as the first.

Inside that frame I had some objects I didn’t know the purpose of, but they all were the same, so they all went together.

There were fifty-eight little unknown things in that frame, I counted.

I lumped broken glass together around the TV and my chair forming piles of jagged glass.

The lamp shade went… no that was wrong.

It went…

My eyes swept around my organized room, looking for a place to put the lampshade.

Guitars?

No.

Chair?

No.

Bottles?

No.

Frame?

No.

TV?

Yes.

But where?

On top.

The lampshade was placed on top of the television, right on top of the antennae.

There were some foodstuffs that I filled the lampshade with, filling the space around the antennae.

I had three stools behind the television.

One was broken and shorter than the rest so it went in the middle for symmetry.

The food cart went behind my chair with sheets hung over it and potted plants on top of those.

There were unbroken bottles that had to go below where the guitars were but above the picture frames.

I placed a lone flower in each end one.

There were small pills strewn about that I put into circles around some of the broken records.

I found what remained of a guitar neck and put it across the guitar that was missing its neck.

I put the wall clock underneath my chair and made the hands spin until the time was 12:00 and the hand were pointing north and south.

No.

Or was it west and east?

Whichever, they faced the TV and the wall opposite it.

Pens, quills and pencils went around the television, but inside the dust boundary, stacked on each other in an ‘x’ pattern.

No.

They went over there.

I moved them accordingly.

I leaned across the stack of book pages to get at the guitars so that I could put sheets of paper on top of them but I accidentally hit one of the cutlery ‘x’s and the spoon fell off of the fork.

I flinched involuntary and immediately straightened the silverware and breathed a sigh of relief.

I put the TV remote on the center of the chair cushion.

Some more things were put next to other things.

I put some different things and a much larger thing of the same sort next to a pile of stuff.

I straightened everything and stood up, admiring my handiwork.

But I noticed a table leg and set it within the table’s frame which also contained a hat.

Speaking of which, that hat should go on the coat rack…

No, not the coat rack.

It was a coat rack, not a hat rack.

A hat didn't belong on a coat rack.

I left the hat within the table.

I bit my bottom lip and moved some of the bent paper clips around so that they looked better.

A sudden gust of wind blew in from the shattered window, scattering my book pages around the room.

I shrieked and leapt around and pounced on each until I had them all back again.

I sorted them once again and laid them back out, this time adding several pieces of jagged metal to the tops of the stacks, so they wouldn’t blow away again.

Lines were straightened and more things were organized.

It all had to be perfect. It all had to be clean.

Maybe cleaning my prison would help me escape it.

But it wasn't clean enough yet.

I took some light bulb filaments and put them in a semi-circle around some peanuts.

No.

Still not clean enough…

Never clean enough…

IS THERE ANYPONY OUT THERE?

I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and a gaunt, wide-eyed, crazed pink stallion looked back out. He looked the way I felt, which was absolutely filthy. My attempts to organize my prison had been half successful; there was no longer any clutter out in the living room, but I was still trapped in my head. There had been no escape.

And now I felt unclean. Dirty. Grimy. Muddy. Soiled. Tainted.

The pony that watched me from inside the mirror annoyed me greatly. He was disheveled and dirty and could do with a good cleaning. His brown, wavy mane was ratty and tousled. It hung down in front of his eyes and looked hideous. His pink coat was tarnished with dust and blood and who knew what else, and it was wet, hanging limply from his thin frame. His gray eyes were bloodshot and puffy and he had a grin plastered on his face.

I think the pony in the mirror laughed at me. The bastard! How dare he mock me! I was alone and trapped in here and he was watching me with a smirk plastered on his face. I think…

No! He did laugh at me! I saw him do it! I did!

It was fast; if I had blinked an instant too soon, I would’ve missed it. But I didn’t. He was teasing me right in front of my own face! The fucking bastard!

I growled and clenched my teeth together, as did the stallion in the mirror. If I could’ve, I would’ve smacked that grin right off of his face.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Not yet, at least. I was in here to get clean. I had cleaned my room, but now I had to be as well. All of this… long, matted hair hanging down in front of my eyes, all the swishy, curly hair on my tail; it all had to go. My hair itched and irritated wherever it touched my body and I could just feel it practically swimming with filth and evil.

I had to be pure. I needed to be clean.

Maybe then I could escape. Maybe then I could be free.

I had to hope.

I picked up a razor that was sitting on the side of the sink. It was a simple little invention; a little slip-on pad with blades on the other side. Easy for any non-unicorn to use. Those lucky bastards, with their magic. They even charmed so that it would only cut off facial hair and not the coat underneath.

I ran my hoof through my mane, feeling it, picking through it and so did the pony in the mirror. My hooves traveled down my face to my eyebrows. Such strange things, eyebrows. Hair that grew where no other hair grew. I rubbed them for a moment, my eyes unblinking. My hooves wandered down to my snout and cheeks where the barest hint of coarse stubble was beginning to grow in; I had never looked good with facial hair. Then, I flicked my bushy tail somewhat into my grasp and felt it the same.

It all had to go. It was all contaminated. I had to be purged.

I slipped my hoof into the razor and ran it over my cheeks, feeling slight resistance as it cut off the stubble. The pony opposite me mirrored my movements with precision accuracy. We watched each other shave our respective faces, until we both finished.

But he still didn’t look clean and I still didn’t feel clean.

I brought the razor pad up to my eye level. My hoof hovered there for a moment before I swooped down on my eyebrows, forcibly grinding them off. Dribbles of blood began to run down the bridge of my snout and off my nose, dripping to the sink below. The pony in the mirror grinned slightly my hoof twitched, causing another cut in my skin. Finished with the first one, I moved on to the other eyebrow and, soon after, shaved off that one as well, revealing bald, pink flesh underneath, not unlike my natural coat color.

I blinked away some of the blood dripping into my eyes and splashed some water on my face. It stung the fresh gashes just above my eyes, but I didn’t pay it any mind. The mirror pony blinked at me and rubbed his hooves over the spot where his eyebrows were, feeling the smooth skin that was there now.

It was an interesting feeling, having no eyebrows. It felt… good...

I held the blade in trembling hooves and raised my free hoof to my mane and grasped a tuft of it, holding it away from the rest of the hair. I ran the razor through it, feeling it separate the follicles from the rest of my scalp. I let go of the clump of hair and let it fall into the floor where it collected at my hooves.

I scraped the razor over my scalp, feeling bunches of hair drop off with every stroke I made. I watched the mirror as the pony watching me slowly lost all of his hair along with me. Fleshy, pink skin stood out in sharp contrast from the dark brown hair that was once there. But I continued cutting, revealing more of that clean, purged surface and expunging the disgusting filth.

With a final swipe, I cut off the last of my mane, leaving nothing but pink left. I ran my free hoof over the slightly rough surface, feeling relief that I was finally free from that mess sitting on top of my head. I felt so much lighter now, so much giddier. The pony in the mirror smiled again and blinked his gray eyes.

I scowled at the stallion’s expression and began to turn my attention to my tail. It was difficult for anypony to reach their tail, let alone brush it or trim it without the help of magic, which generally left the other two less fortunate races to develop their own style of reaching their tails. I was never too good at it and generally left my tail to its own devices.

But not anymore.

I twisted around and wrapped my free hoof around my tail as best I could. I pulled it closer to my front and stretched out with the razor as best I could. I ran the blade down the length of my tail, watching as it sliced through the matted, soiled hair. The curls of hair fell away, and soon enough there was nothing left but a skinny stump of flesh that tapered off at the end. I wagged it experimentally, feeling it whip through the air so unlike the sluggish movements it had when burdened with hair.

I grinned triumphantly and looked back towards the mirror, seeing a similar expression stuck on the mirror pony’s face as well. I frowned and snorted, feeling a temper rise in me again. The bastard was still copying me, mocking me, insulting me!

He laughed again. I bet he thought this was a game, this staring contest between the two of us! I wanted nothing more than to escape from behind my Wall, and here this stallion was, laughing at me, thinking he was so much better than me, just outside it.

I slammed my hoof into the mirror, the glass shattering beneath my impact. Hundreds of shards clattered to the floor and sink with a cacophonous clatter. And from each piece of the mirror, I could still see the stallion laughing back at me, defiant to the end. I screamed and slammed my hooves into the sink, crushing the shards into dust, blood flying from my hooves.

The pony couldn’t laugh at me anymore.

I flung the razor down to the floor and stumbled to the door, intent on leaving this room, but found myself unable to take the few steps to the door. My hooves were slow and the entire room spun before my eyes. I tried to take a step forward, but had to struggle to take my hoof off of the ground. After a few moments of difficulty, I managed to shuffle to the door.

I fumbled with the door handle for a moment, my hooves rapidly turning numb, and pushed the bathroom door open. I stood in the doorway for a moment, looking into my bedroom, my head steadily filling with pounding drums. I groaned and sluggishly shambled through the room, trying to get back to my chair.

But I felt so clean, so free. Maybe I could escape. Maybe this would work…

IS THERE ANYPONY OUT THERE!?

And I kept running deep into my mind, away from whatever horrors awaited me elsewhere. I had to get away. I had to escape. But nothing I had tried had worked. My room was clean and orderly, but no cracks in the Wall revealed themselves. I purged myself and cleansed my body, hoping that I could break through to the outside world again, but nothing happened.

And there was still so much pain following me as I galloped into the blackness.

And there was nopony outside who could hear and help me. I was trapped, alone and afraid inside myself and there was nothing I could do. Nothing had worked.

Nothing.

And all I could do was continue to call out in the hope that somepony will help save me from the terrors. All I could do was ask, and hope that my savior wouldn’t abandon or hurt me like everypony else. All I could do was hope and pray and plead and beg and cry and yell and scream and laugh and sob and nothing.

Nothing…

I could do nothing but ask…

IS THERE ANYPONY OUT THERE?

I hobbled back into my room, trying not to trip over the organized items littering the floor but my hooves wouldn’t respond. They dragged along the floor, knocking over the guitars and buttons and cans and bits and paperclips and smashing the records and crushing the glass shards.

And still I was running away, deep into the blackness, hoping to get away and hoping to find a way out from behind the Wall.

But as I did, the room seemed to grow fainter and I could barely feel the breeze blowing in through the window. The television seemed to mute and I could hardly make out what was happening on it any more. The scent of dust and spilled drink wafted away and I could barely feel my extremities anymore.

Yet, somehow, I managed to reach my chair and collapse into it, breathing heavily. I could feel myself fading away into the blackness. My consciousness and senses seemed to be failing, shutting down completely, leaving me floundering in the void.

But still I thundered on, deep into the darkness, terrified out of my mind and in my mind. The hotel room had all but vanished now, leaving me with barely any stimulus besides the vicious, plaguing memories and thoughts that stalked this blackness.

I looked around quickly, feeling something watching me from somewhere in the emptiness. I twisted around, finally coming to a halt and my eyes danced around the black, struggling to see what was out there, or if anypony was out there.

And out of the gloom, stepped the gray stallion once more, smiling widely. His left hoof was bleeding, leaving a streak of blood in his wake, something I hadn’t noticed before, but the rest of him was just as terrifying as before.

And I stood there, terrified, my legs frozen to the ground.

And still the stallion approached me.

He limped closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and even closer until he was mere inches from my snout. A spark of life ignited deep inside of his dull, dead eyes and he straightened up, suddenly looking healthier, cleaner, even. His pink eyes looked directly into mine, and deep into my soul.

His mouth opened with a creak, as if the muscles and tendons had never been moved before. He rolled his jaw for a moment and a dull, wrinkled tongue darted out to lick his lips.

He whispered something, but I couldn't hear it.

And I ran away from him once more, retreating deeper into my mind.

And somewhere, in the distance, echoing around the void, I heard a phone ring.

The phone in my hotel room rang once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Then my hearing faded completely, stripping me of the last bit of real life that I could sense.

And I couldn’t move to pick the phone up.

After all, there was nopony home.

IS THERE ANYPONY OUT THERE?

Author's Note

Based on “Is There Anybody Out There?”

Chapter Fifteen: Fading Roots

Chapter Fifteen

Fading Roots

.

I could feel myself slipping. I couldn’t remember the past few hours or much else. Memories were fading like snow on a summer’s day. I was going in rewind, feeling, seeing, hearing everything slide past me, and disappear into the very void I was trapped in.

I was trying to hold on, trying to remember. Order failed me. It left me emptier than ever before. My life was flashing, blooming, in my mind and in my eyes like the pop of the paparazzi’s camera except there weren’t any paparazzi. I was alone in my hotel room and in my mind.

I had to remember.

But I couldn't.

My name is Pink, I am a thirty two year old pink earth pony and I am trying to remember who I am before I slip away. I am a famous rock star, adored by millions across Equestria, including the princess herself.

My father died when I was young. I never knew him. I was made fun of.

Mother smothered and repressed me. She refused to let me live my life. I hate her.

My school and teachers were abusive, trying to craft me into something I wasn't. They were a cold, heartless machine.

I recently learned that my wife left me for some bastard for no reason. That bitch. She'll see the error of her ways.

When I was just a colt, I had a little black book, a gift from some estranged relative.

It was just a small, unassuming thing. Not special to anypony but me. To most, it would seem like the fanciful writing of a schoolcolt, but to me it was so much more than that. Oh, the things I poured into that book. Thoughts, dreams, ideas, poems, secrets, there was just so much on its pages. Some of my finest works after I became famous came from scribbling’s in that book.

I still have it. I brought it everywhere I went. It was a constant reminder of my past and the things I read in there never failed to brighten my day.

But I can’t remember if I brought it with me to Canterlot.

My name is Pink Floyd, I have been alive for thirty two years, and I am a famous rock star, loved by everyone. I've been all across the globe, playing for sold-out arenas that I can hardly even remember through the haze of drugs.

My father died when I was just a foal, and I don’t remember him. Mother said he was nice though, for all that's worth.

My wife, Rêves is waiting for me back home. She promised she’d wait. I have a concert in Canterlot coming up soon. Apparently the Princess herself is supposed to be going.

I remember watching a television for the first time. They were developed not too far from home and spread like wildfire into the living rooms of families. Me and Rêves bought four and hooked up one up as soon as we got home. We invited a few of the ponies from the band over and made a big party out of it.

We sat around the small box, waiting eagerly as we switched it on for the first time. The picture flickered into life and on it was a pony in a smart looking suit reporting the news. We were so awestruck; I was surprised some of us didn’t faint. A moving picture show right in our own living room! It was like a radio with visual effects.

We watched the stallion talk about recent events for a bit before we changed the channel. We went through all the stations fairly quickly; there were only thirteen channels at the time of launch. Thirteen channels of shit to choose from and it was perfect.

My name is Pink Floyd, and I am twenty six years old. I got my fourth album out today and I’m so exhausted. We all are, I think. This life isn’t all it has cracked up to be, but it has all been worth it. I can crawl back home tonight, back to Rêves, and I can finally rest. Going on tour in a few weeks, over in the Griffon Kingdom to promote the new album. Should be fun. Have to pop a few pills to get to sleep.

I found my first gray hair today.

I was already going gray at the tender age of twenty five. It’s amazing what stress can do to you in just a few short years.

I woke up this morning, or more like late afternoon. Rêves wasn’t home, so I figured she must’ve gone out shopping or some shit like that. I’d been away from home for a while now, out on tour. I miss her. Maybe I can ask Short if we can postpone our next tour so I could stay a bit longer with her.

I stumbled into the bathroom and went through my normal morning routine, splashing water on my face in an attempt to relieve the hangover I had from the previous night. It was as I glanced in the mirror that I noticed a few strands of my brown mane were a light gray; the roots had faded and everything.

It’s not an enjoyable experience to realize that you’re getting old.

When I left the bathroom, the mirror was shattered and my hoof was bloodied.

My name is Pink, and I am twenty one. I was an overnight sensation, it seemed. In just a day, almost all of Equestria knew my name and my music. For a while, it looked as if I would never make it, but I kept at it and now it's paid off. I’m glad I kept writing poetry in school, despite everything that conspired againt me. I love my music. I love Rêves. She supported me this entire way. Without her, I might not have made it. We can get married soon.

That reminds me, I should probably go tell Mother what's happened.

I was walking around town one day, looking for a present for Rêves for her birthday. I paused, looking into the window of a hoofmade glass shop. There was a nicely crafted bird that had caught my eye and I was considering entering the shop and buying it. Rêves always liked her fowls.

I was looking at the price tag when I noticed a streak of rainbow shooting through the sky in the reflection of the window.

And then the entire world exploded in a wave of color.

I was sent reeling back as a large explosion shook the entire street. I steadied myself against the wall of the shop and looked up into the sky just in time to see a halo of rainbow spread across the atmosphere. It expanded out in every direction, energizing the atmosphere as it went.

And went it passed over me, I swear I felt happier than I had ever been my entire life. It was an indescribably sort of joy that made me want to smile and never stop.

I glanced around at the other ponies around me and they were all staring up at the rainbow contrails, their faces split in grins. I looked back up at the sky and thought I glimpsed some pegasus zooming by, leaving a rainbow streak in its wake.

I couldn’t stop smiling, and I didn’t think I wanted to.

It was beautiful.

My name is Pink, and I’m seventeen years old. Short, Ox and I all pooled our money to buy a guitar and microphone today. I can finally try and record some of the songs I’ve been writing for so long. We practice on the weekends at Ox’s place, since Mom doesn’t approve of my music. Rêves showed up to provide some support. Man, how did I get so lucky with her? And to think Mom tried to keep us apart.

I remember the first time I ever played an instrument.

I was over at Short’s house one day, hanging out with him and doing whatever. His parents had gone out somewhere, leaving the two of us alone, so the two of us went exploring in his attic, something his parents had deemed too dangerous, but we didn’t care.

After shifting around the boxes for a while, looking for anything interesting, my eyes were drawn to a large, bulky item sitting in a corner covered in a cloth. I wandered over to it and took a few boxes off of its top and pulled the sheet off.

And there it was, a black, hardly used, absolutely beautiful piano. I ran a hoof over its wooden exterior, marveling at the craftsmanship involved. I pulled up a box and sat down in front of it. I ran my hooves over the keys and tapped out a few wayward tunes floating around in my head.

And very softly, I began to sing along with the music.

I am Pinkerton, and I’ve been alive for eleven years. I love my mom. She was sad all day today, since it was the anniversary of dad’s death. How could he go and die and hurt her like this? I hate him.

Speaking of which, Sir ranted at us again today because some foal didn’t remember the date pegasi began to control the weather. The idiot went home with a black eye today, courtasy of our teacher. I really despise Sir.

Today was my first day of school.

Mommy walked with me all the way to the schoolyard, holding my hoof the entire way. She dropped me off at the front gate and left me with a big hug and a sloppy, wet kiss on the bridge of my snout. She smiled and tearfully told me goodbye.

Before she even had the chance to say farewell, I shot off into the school grounds to mingle with the other foals. Oh, the school had slides and swings and teeter-totters and merry-go-rounds and all sorts of other fun things to do!

I ran around trying to do everything there was to do, playing with the other foals and having so much fun. After a while, there was a bell ringing from inside and everypony filed inside except for me. I wasn’t sure where they were going, with such fun things to do out here.

If I could play on all this playground equipment every day, I just knew school would be amazing, even if the other foals had to leave after a while.

I was sitting on the swings, trying in vain to push myself higher. After a few failed attempts, I got bored and gently rocked myself back and forth, humming a tune that was stuck in my head.

That was when an old, gray griffon strode out of the school and approached me.

My name is Pinkerton and I am six. Me and mommy took a train ride today. It was really cool! We zoomed through the countryside and got off in some place called Ponyville. I did not like it very much. From the station, we walked through the town and got to this area with all sorts of stones sticking up out of the ground. Some were rounded, some were square and a few were flat, but most had flowers lying on top of them. Mommy had flowers too and she laid them down at one of the stones. She cried.

One day I was bored, so I searched through the whole house for something to do.

I remember making my way to the kitchen and going through the cabinets and drawers. I found some utensils in one of the drawers. The sound they made when they clinked together hypnotized me.

I took a spoon out and experimentally banged it on the counter. It resounded one of the most beautiful sounds I had ever heard. I giggled and tapped it on the counter again, listening to the notes again.

After a while, I began to bang out a steady rhythm with that silver spoon.

My name is Pink

I am pink

Can’t forget

.

I am pink. I am an earth pony. I am three. I love my mommy.

I remember mommy’s voice. She sounds so proud, so full of love. I love her so much.

I can also remember a blue colored pegasus stallion. I remember that every night before I had to go to bed, he would bring out his guitar and he would sing me a lullaby. I always loved that time of the day.

Then, I would go to bed and if I was still full of energy, he would read me a bedtime story full of adventure and fantastical places. But he could turn out the lights, he always went around my room scaring away all the monsters that had hidden under my bed and in my closet since the previous night.

I wanted wings like his, so that I could fly across the sky, but I was stuck without any. I want to fly, but I really don’t have anywhere to fly to yet. Sometimes he would hold me above his head and run around the house so I could pretend I was flying. I loved it.

Whenever he smiled, it brightened up the room and made me smile as well. Sometimes, I would take his glasses and wear them, but they made everything go all blurry. I don’t know how he could see like that all the time. But I love him anyway.

But he’s gone now.

And I don’t know where he went.

Everything is so bright and so new. I'm crying at the top of my lungs.

I don’t like it out here. There’s so many… different, strange things.

I don’t understand.

I’m being handled, passed, between various ponies.

They’re talking, but I don’t understand.

It’s so cold out here. I don’t like it.

I continue to cry because it's all I can do.

Eventually, things quiet down, save for my own howling wails.

I see a pink mare lying on a bed. Some other ponies are hunched over her.

This room is so white.

One of the ponies passes me to a blue stallion.

He looks down at me and smiles.

My screams catch in my throat and I look up at him with quiet wonder.

Teardrops glisten on his glasses.

His mouth moves, but I don’t know what he says.

He cradles me.

And I smile at him.

“…I love you…”

I…

I don’t…

I can’t remember…

…

…

It’s so cold…

…

…

I can’t remember, but…

But…

...

But, I…

…

...

But I’m still here…

…

…

…

…Everything is fading…

…

…

...I can't remember...

…

…

…

…I can’t remember my name…

...

...

…But I’m still here…

…

…

…I’m still…

…

…

…

…

…I’m…

…

…

…

…

…I'm here...

...

...

...

...

...

...I'm...

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Author's Note

Based on “Nobody Home”

Chapter Sixteen: Where the Hell Are You? (Part One)

Chapter Sixteen

Where the Hell Are You? (Part One)

Don't know where...

...don't know when...

...but I'll know we'll meet again...

...some sunny day...

I awoke to the harsh sting of artificial light.

It was a rather sudden and obtrusive awakening; not at all pleasant. My eyes flew open, but I couldn’t see anything. Lights and colors whirled in front of my vision, obscuring my view. I spent a few seconds taking deep gasps of air, as if a nightmare had woken me up, but I know one hadn’t.

I couldn’t remember where I was.

And it was so cold.

I waited as my vision slowly swam back into focus. The first thing I saw once I could, was the ceiling. The ceiling in question was painted with soft, billowy clouds, and happy, frolicking pegasi foals danced around them; a bright yellow sun with a smiling face on it was situated in the corner of the room.

But no, that wasn’t right, was it? The light wasn’t coming from the painted sun. It was in the middle of the room, blazing down with its severe and luminous glow. And why was it so close? But… No…The light was coming from… a single lamp stuck into the middle of the ceiling.

The next thing I noticed was that the bed I was lying in was hard and altogether uncomfortable. If it wasn’t for the slightest give in the mattress, I would’ve thought I had been sleeping on a wooden board. The rest of the bed was comparable. My head was resting on a single pillow that was so thin it might have not even have been there. The sheets, as threadbare as they were, were wound around me, tucked so tightly into the bed that I couldn’t move an inch. I couldn’t even manage to move my head. I could only continue to stare at the ceiling in confusion.

And it was so very quiet.

Quiet…

Too quiet. Too quiet! Too quiet! Too quiet!

I felt as if the air was pressing down on me, the silence slowly seeping into my head, setting my head ablaze. I didn’t like the silence. I could feel it contaminating me. It was everywhere and I couldn’t escape it. I couldn’t! I—

A tune sprung to the forefront of my burning consciousness and I hummed it so I could chase away the dreaded silence. I struggled against the sheets of my bed for a moment, hoping that I could loosen them and escape, but I couldn’t. I was in a room, trapped in a well-tucked bed, with only these smiling, painted pegasi for company, and I couldn’t remember why…

I…

Wait…

I couldn’t remember anything…

I stopped my struggle as that single thought sunk in. I couldn’t remember anything.

Where was I?

I couldn’t remember anything past the few minutes since I had woken up. Everything was blank. Everything that I was, my entire life, was gone. My past was lost to me, and… And…

Who was I?

I scoured my mind for any glimmer of a memory, a stray thought, anything. Anything to tell me who I was. Anything that could help ease this growing panic I felt rising in my chest.

But there was nothing except the smiling pegasi painted on the ceiling above.

Pegasi. That was something wasn’t it? They were… What were they…? Ponies with wings. Flying, living, breathing, talking ponies.

I was a pony, I think. That word seemed to mean something. I moved my hooves. I flicked my ears. I swished my tail as well as I could under the sheets. My eyes moved back and forth across the ceiling. My nose twitched. I was a pony.

Pony.

I listed things I knew: The bed was confining and uncomfortable; I was in a room filled with cold, harsh light; The ceiling was painted with something more fit for a foal; This was a room that hopefully had four walls, one ceiling, one floor, a door, and windows; I was a pony; I could remember identify body parts and little generic things.

But I couldn’t remember who I was.

Pegasi.

Pegasi. Unicorns. Earth Ponies.

Unicorn.

Pegasus.

Earth pony.

I was an Earth Pony, wasn’t I? Unicorns had horns. Pegasi had wings. I tried fluttering my wings, but found nothing. I tried channeling magic into my horn, but nothing happened. I had neither. I was an Earth Pony. Silly name for a race. Why didn’t we get a special name like unicorns or pegasi?

Name.

But my name… My name was… It was…

…

…

…Gray…

…

My name was Gray. Nothing more, nothing less. I was Gray, an Earth Pony with a gray coat, fuchsia eyes and a light-brown mane. That was what I was.

At least, I think I had a that was what I looked like; I couldn’t remember exactly, but they seemed to fit. I seemed to work.

I breathed a sigh of relief. There was something gratifying and joyful about remembering something as important as my name. It was my identity, my only place in life.

Gray.

I struggled against the bed sheets with renewed vigor. I had to get out of this infernal bed and out of this room. I had to. I had to stop looking at the foals above me. I needed to get out and find out where I was and who I was and why I couldn’t remember anything.

But first I had to get the sheets off of me.

Just then, a door somewhere to the left of me creaked open. “Pink…?” I stopped fighting against my restraints and swiveled an ear towards the noise. “Pink, are you awake yet?” It was a feminine voice, a mare’s voice, slightly hesitant, but gentle and full of concern.

I groaned and heard the quietest gasp of worry from the mare. “Oh Pink,” she said, “Are you alright?” Her words filled my mind to the brim, eagerly drinking up the reprieve from the silence. I clenched my eyes together and tried to hold on the feeling of sound. I felt something soft and furry brush against my forehead. “Oh! You’re burning up! I’ll get you out of those sheets, okay?”

There was motion down by my hooves and I felt the constricting cloth finally lift off of my body. I managed to lift my head off of the pillow just enough to look forward slightly. Standing at the foot of my bed was the mare that had entered the room. She was a green unicorn with a flaming red and orange mane that fell in long strands around her face. A plain white vest modestly covered her body, a red cross emblazoned on the side, denoting her as a nurse.

…She… seemed… familiar?

…Did she?

She glanced up at me and smiled. I noticed she had blue eyes, sparkling blue eyes. “Good.” Her voice was like medicine to my mind. “Those sheets were a little bit tight, huh?” She yanked the offending objects off of me and threw them to the floor. “There.” She smiled again, flashing her set of white teeth at me. “I’m sure that feels better already.”

And it did. The panic that had set in from the silence was subsiding already, receding to a minuscule throbbing. The mare sauntered over to me and placed a hoof on my forehead again. “Oh good, that seemed to work! You look better already. How do you feel?”

Cautiously, I sat up and glanced around the room I was in. My eyes first alighted on a small desk in the corner of the room and what looked like a journal of some sort lying on it. Next to my bed was a worn side table that was bolted to the wall and a lamp that looked like it had seen better days. In another corner was a potted plant that was probably fake. On the other side of my bed was an impressive steel door that looked as if it belonged to a bank. And, opposite my bed, was one window, set up near the ceiling, sealed with iron bars and much too small for a pony to fit through.

I glanced back at the mare who was watching me expectantly. “Ohh…” I grumbled, “I’m…” My tongue felt leaden and fuzzy, almost as if I hadn’t used it in years. I managed to force my voice out, struggling to form the right words. “…I’m… guh-good… I... Ummm… Thanks…”

She brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “You’re welcome Pink.”

And there was that name again. Pink. Who was Pink? The mare obviously had me confused with somepony else; my name was Gray. Gray. It wasn’t much of a normal pony name, but it was mine and it was me. I had just remembered it, after all.

The mare continued, unabated by my confusion. “Now, come on, we let you sleep in a bit late after last night, but we have to go now.” She gently nudged me to the edge of the bed. I sat on the edge for a moment, inspecting my body, trying to remember anything, but nothing bubbled to the forefront of my mind.

I was a gray earth pony. I had gotten that part right. My mane was curly and brown and was so long that it hung down in front of my eyes; my tail was the same. I was by no means muscular, but at cursory glance, I could tell that I never neglected exercise. I craned my head to look at my flank, hoping to see what my cutie mark was, but found nothing but blank gray fur.

I had no cutie mark.

I had only been awake for a few minutes and I already more questions than I could ever hope to find answers for. My mind felt as if I had been hit by a hammer; I had to relax for a few seconds to let myself catch up with everything that happened since I woke up.

The mare finally seemed to notice my confusion and walked closer to me. “Are you sure that you’re okay Pink? If you’re not, I can always tell one of the doctors…”

“Oooohhhhh…” I rubbed my temples and looked at the mare who was watching me with such concern. I decided to take a chance and try and get an answer to one of my questions. I licked my lips and tried to string together a sentence. “Where… Where am I…?” My voice was little more than a whisper.

The green mare’s smile fell. “Pink… Oh Celestia, you can’t remember anything, can you?”

“Mmmnnnfff…” I waved a hoof in her general direction, gently rubbing my head with my other hoof. “Name’s not Pink... Not puh-Pink… Uhhhh…. Gray, name’s Gray…”

The mare chuckled apprehensively, visibly uneasy. “Oh… Oh-Okay Gray, I uhhhhh… I guess you can’t remember anything?” I nodded and she took a deep breath. “O-okay, well... they told me that you might suffer some memory loss, so I suppose that it’s not unexpected.” Her tail flicked back and forth. “Okay, allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Nurse Dreams. I work here.”

I groaned. “But where is here?” I coughed, feeling something dislodge itself from my throat. “W-What is this place? Why am I in this room?” My eyes widened in sudden realization. “You said you’re a nurse! Am I… Am I sick or something? What happened?”

“Oh Pink…” she whispered. Her blue eyes glistened with tears.

“Who’s Pink!?” I shouted at Dreams, my voice suddenly finding power again. “Why do you keep calling me that?” I sank into the bed. “My… My name’s not—It’s not… I…” My rant sputtered out. “Why… Why do you keep calling me Pink…?” I looked at her, almost pathetically.

Dreams looked sad for a moment; only for a moment and then it was gone. “Pinkerton.” she explained, “That’s your full name. You…” Her eyes met mine; blue and magenta. “You always went by Pink though. You always liked that better. It was your favorite color and everything.”

“But—But I don’t…” I stuttered, trying to convey what I was thinking. “I can’t… I’m not… My name is Gray!” I finished, angrily. “I don’t remember Pink or Pinkerton or whatever! I’m Gray, okay? My name is Gray… I…”

She nodded. “A-alright… Gray, just… calm down… Now, come on, let’s go. We’ll be late.” She opened the door open and I slid off the bed, landing unsteadily on my hooves. I trembled for a moment before finding my balance. Dream’s smile widened as I erratically trotted past her.

The hallway outside was even more sterile than the room I was in. The ceiling, for one, wasn’t painted with anything special; it was just a boring, stark white. Harsh, white lights lined the ceiling every few steps, illuminating every shadow. The floors consisted of cold tile that stretched everywhere. There were emotionless steel doors, like the one to my room, at even intervals down the hall.

Something seemed… wrong.

Dreams closed the door behind me, a loud band reverberating through the empty halls. “There,” she said, “Now we can get going. Come on… Gray.”

We walked down the hallway for a few seconds before I realized what was wrong. It was devoid of any life, let alone any patients. Most hospitals I knew of were bustling with activity. All the doctors, patients and visitors couldn’t all have been away, could they?

“This is pretty empty for a hospital. Where is everypony?” I asked, voicing my concerns.

The mare coughed. “Oh, well they’re all down at the cafeteria right now. It’s about noon—lunchtime. We let you sleep in on account of yesterday. We’re going down there right now.”

I stopped walking. “We’re going d-down to the cafeteria? With other ponies?”

Dreams smiled her smile. “Yes. Is that a problem Gray? If you think it’ll be too much for you too soon, we don’t have to go. But I think seeing some familiar faces might jog your memory a bit. It might do some good…”

“I… I have friends here…?” I hesitantly trotted after the nurse.

“Of course you do Pink—Gray!” she revised herself, “Gray, sorry. Ummm… But yes, you have a nice, tight-knit group of friends. It’s very cute. A circle of pony friends, till the very end, as the saying goes. I’m sure they’ll be excited to know you’re up and about again.”

I gulped. Friends? I couldn’t remember anything, let alone other ponies. Hell, Nurse Dreams seemed somewhat familiar, but whenever I cast my mind back into the past, there was only blackness.

The idea of meeting somepony I used to know terrified me. What would they think? What if I acted differently before the amnesia? I didn't know how to talk to them or any inside jokes we might’ve had. Should I act nonchalant when I meet them or were they expecting a teary reunion? I didn’t know how to act like Gray. I didn’t know how to act like their Gray. Who was I, really? What if I messed up, or what if I—

“Hey,” Dreams wrapped me in a side-hug, breaking my train of thought. She must’ve noticed how nervous I was and wanted to comfort me. “It’s alright Gray. Don’t worry. They’ll accept you, no matter what. Amnesia couldn’t even separate you guys.”

I nodded. “I… uhh… W-what are their names…?”

“Well,” she said, “There’s Marmalade, Broom and Starshine. They’re your closest friends, but you’re on good terms with just about everypony in here.” She chuckled. “Oh, and I suppose you can count me as your friend as well. Now, come on, we don’t want to miss lunch. I’m starved!”

Dreams sped up, quickly rounding a corner and disappeared from sight. She left me all alone. She wasn’t the best nurse ever, leaving amnesiac patients behind, but there was nothing to do. I felt silence once again settle in around me. So very quiet. My heart quickened in my chest and I could see the walls begin close in on me. Why was it so quiet? I bit my lip and started to hum again. Anything to make sound.

Quiet.

I shook my head and hurried after the nurse hoping I could find her in the identical hallways. In the interval, I tried to come to terms with everything that I had learned, or relearned, I suppose, since I had woken up a few minutes ago.

Here was Nurse Dreams, the first and only pony I met since I woke up with amnesia. She seemed nice enough, if a bit absent-minded, and there was something oddly familiar about her, even if I couldn’t quite place it.

My friends, if I could even call them that anymore, were apparently worried about me. Though, I was slightly confused about how I came to have friends in here of all places. In most hospitals, you didn’t stay there long enough to make many friends.

Were they friends that I was admitted with? Had we all taken part in the same accident that caused my amnesia? And why were all the patients in the cafeteria? The sick and infirm couldn’t have gotten out of their beds and walked somewhere just so they could eat.

And why did the ceiling of my room have pegasi foals on it?

There were so many questions I didn’t know the answers to yet. I would’ve liked to have asked some of them.

I turned another corner to see Dreams waiting impatiently for me in front a pair of double doors labeled ‘Cafeteria.’. “Well, here it is, Pi—Gray. You ready?” She glanced at me and I nodded at her. The doors were wrapped in her magical aura and they swung open.

The room inside was crowded; more crowded than I would have thought safe for a hospital to allow. The room itself was spacious and ponies sat at neat rows of white tables that filled the floor. Along the far wall was the lunch line; mares with bored expressions and hairnets stood behind the counter, dolloping portions of whatever food they were serving that day onto the trays of waiting ponies.

At every doorway, including the one we had just entered, stood two or three light-blue, muscled stallions. Their faces were stoic and unreadable and were all wearing uniforms not unlike the one Dreams was wearing, though much more masculine. I wasn’t entirely sure why they were there, but I certainly wouldn’t want to mess with them.

Dreams and I walked past the stallions and into the room proper. There were ponies of all sorts sitting down at the tables or getting food from the counter. It was all very tidy and contained. Everypony was either doing one thing or the other.

I liked it.

And it was so loud. Not quiet at all.

Dreams nudged me. “Come on Gray; let’s go get some food before it’s all gone. We’re a bit late as it is.”

I nodded absentmindedly and tailed Dreams up to the counter, weaving through the crowd. She levitated two trays from a stack and set them on the counter. I peered over the counter at the food they were serving. It was definitely hospital food.

I hovered by Dreams as she plodded through the line and got some food for the two of us. I took a quick glance at my tray and saw some sort of soggy hay, what appeared to be carrots, and some unidentifiable green leaves. Just great.

Dreams hesitated at the end of the line. She was peering through the throng of ponies seated at the tables, obviously looking for somepony, though I had no idea who.

I nudged her. “Who’re you looking for?”

“I was hoping a few of your friends were here, but I don’t see of them.” she responded without taking her eyes off of the crowd. “It’s likely that they’ve already left. They always like to eat early.” She sighed and looked back at me. “Ah well… Too bad. You’ll definitely see them tomorrow though, so there’s always that.” She gently pushed me forward. “Come on! Let’s go find a table!”

We spent the next few minutes weaving through the crowded room looking for two available seats and eventually found an empty space between two light-blue unicorns who didn’t seem to notice us.

We sat down and Dreams began eating almost immediately, nearly wolfing down her food. To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t all that hungry and the food in front of me wasn’t doing much to pique my appetite. I absentmindedly poked at with a fork and felt my thoughts begin to drift off once again.

At least it was loud in here.

It seemed like a strange sort of hospital. There were so many patients, nurses and doctors crowded together, chatting with each other, Very few ponies looked visibly sick, but there were a hoofful that looked… strange… Something about them was off. And then there were the stallions standing at every entrance. They were tough, surly ponies that, if I didn’t know any better, I would have figured them for guards. But guards for what or for whom?

“’Eeyyy Pinky!” came a lilting voice from behind me.

This place certainly wasn’t a normal hospital in any sense of the world. It was almost like…

Dreams nudged me. “Gray, he’s talking to you! Don’t be rude!”

I snapped out of my thoughts. “What? Huh? Who-who’s talking?” I looked at Dreams and followed her gaze to a middle-aged, graying griffon sitting in across from me. He peered at me over a pair of tiny glasses perched on his beak, which was split in a smirk.

“’Ey Pinky.” slurred the griffon again. “You look like ‘ell. Wot’s goin’ on wit youse?”

I blinked and looked back at Dreams who sighed and smiled at the avian across from us. “Gerald, Pink here had recently undergone a new treatment, one that has, unfortunately, left him with a bit of amnesia. He can’t remember anything past when he woke up a little while ago.”

The griffon, Gerald, I assumed, let loose a loud, trilling whistle. “Wowie, laddie. These fuckers sure did a number on you, didn’t they?”

“Gerald! Language!” scolded Dreams.

The griffon scoffed. “Ohh, shut up Nurse Dreams. You ain’t gonna do nothin’.”

Dreams gazed into Gerald’s eyes, the anger in her voice just barely controlled. “I can always tell one of the other nurses. I’m sure you wouldn’t like a visit from Nurse Ratchet again.” She leered at him.

“Oh no!” feigned Gerald with mock surprise. “Whatever will I do?” He chuckled, his beak clicking together. “Ratchet wouldn’t listen to you. She don’t trust you anymore than she trusts any me or any of the other loonies in ‘ere!”

I had been following the entire conversation, steadily become more and more confused as it went on. Dreams was a nurse. So, surely she had plenty of authority to report Gerald and whatever rules he was breaking.

Dreams hissed as Gerald finished speaking. Practically lunging across the table, she wrapped a hoof around the griffon’s neck and yanked his head lower. “Shush!” she whispered, “You know we don’t use words like that in here! We’re all just ponies here and we’re all just trying to get better!”

Gerald shoved Dreams off of him and leaned back up, rubbing his neck. “Sheesh, lass, no need to get all uppity ‘bout it. Don’t need no unwanted attention.”

I spoke up before Dreams had a chance to respond. “What’re you two talking about? What’s going on?”

Gerald looked at me incredulously. “Oh, they really fucked you up, didn’t they laddie? Don’t you know where you are?” Dreams’ eyes widened and she attempted to grab the griffon again. Gerald dodged her arms and his smile widened even more as I shook my head no.

“Ohhoho!” He chuckled, realization spreading across his face. “Dreams didn’t tell you what this place is, did she?”
“Is…” I hesitated. “Isn’t this a hospital…?”

Dreams banged the table with one of her hooves. “Gerald please! I was going to tell him after he had a bit to acclimate!”
But the gray bird paid her no mind. “Oh, this is a ‘ospital alright, Pink.” His near predatory smile widened. “But this isn’t any old ‘ospital.” He gestured around him, spreading his arms wide, “This is the Fletcher Memorial Psychiatric Institute, ‘ome for the incurable and Equestria’s crazies!”

My jaw fell open.

A mental asylum?!

What—

How—

Why was in here?

I wasn’t crazy! I…

…Right…?

Was I insane? I didn’t feel crazy. I wasn’t hallucinating, talking to myself, or, or, or, or, or, or, or…

I was thinking straight. Yes. I had full control over my body. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with me. What did crazy feel like?

I looked at Dreams. “When we you planning on telling me that?!” I admonished her, “That’s a pretty big thing to not tell me! I… I…” I ran a hoof through my mane and whimpered. “Tell me Dreams… Am I— Am I crazy…?”

Dreams sighed and shot Gerald a venomous look before turning back towards me. “Yes… Yes, Gray, this is a mental institution, and you are a patient here for several years. You underwent a new treatment yesterday morning, which is the cause of your memory loss…. I… I’m sorry Gray, I…”

I could hear Gerald laughing as I cradled my head in my forehooves. “What-What’s wrong with me Dreams? Why am I in here?” I sputtered.

“That’s probably a good question to ask Doctor. He’s your, well, doctor. I was going to take you to him after we finished eating. I’m not… I…” She lapsed into silence, muttering under her breath.

Gerald spoke up again, taking full control of the quiet. “Oh, Pinky, I bet you aren’t feelin’ too good now, huh? Haha!” He slapped Dreams on the arm playfully and she clutched her hoof tight to her chest as if she was afraid he was going to cut it off. “And, it gets even better, laddie! Go on and ask Dreams why the other nurses don’t trust ‘er! Ha! Ask ‘er what happened six years ago! Ask ‘er why she lied to you!”

The griffon stood up abruptly, violently spreading his wings into a group of ponies behind him, knocking them over. He slammed a fist on the table, his eyes alive with anger. “Pink, you ask that lying bitch of a mare ‘ow she sleeps at night, knowing that she’s living a lie!” He was shouting now, flailing his arms and wings wildly. “You ask that fucking bitch why she can’t ever set hoof outside this building! Ask her—No! Get your fucking hooves off me, you bastards! Don’t you come near me! Get off!”

A few of the large stallions from around the room had galloped over to our table. One grabbed Gerald’s arms, pinning them to his side. “Please stop sir. If you continue we’ll have to restrain you.” The stallion spoke calmly, but with such a forceful power that I almost felt compelled to follow his instructions.

But the griffon didn’t hear him. He was still screaming at me, though by now his words had degraded into incoherent screeching. Spittle flew from his mouth as he fought against the large stallions. He managed to force the first orderly off of him, but was immediately bound by another’s magical grip.

Dreams put a hoof across my chest, as if that would protect me.

And still the griffon struggled, screaming obscenities at the entire room, even as they slipped a muzzle around his beak and locked his claws and wings together with cuffs. I could still hear his muffled cries through the cover. I could see every muscle in his body straining against the magical grip and cuffs, yearning to be free.

Then, as suddenly as it happened, they floated Gerald away and out one of the doors, leaving the cafeteria deathly still. Dreams was sobbing into the crook of her foreleg, her loud, drawn out wails the only sound in the room.

“I’m sorry that he disturbed you two.” said one of the orderlies to us. “It seems we have to cart him out of here every other week. Damn violent fits. He didn’t hurt you or anything?” I shook my head and the stallion smiled. “That’s good. Don’t want Ratchet on my tail for failing to protect the patients, right Pink?”

I frowned. Yet another Pony I didn’t remember. “Err… sure…” I responded, “Whatever you say…”

The stallion blinked, realizing there was something wrong with me. After a few seconds he groaned and smacked his face. “Oh right. The amnesia thing?” I nodded. “Yeah, they told us about that. Must suck...” He smacked his lips together and glanced at a clock on the wall. “Well, I better go Pink. We’ll catch up sometime, alright?”

And with that, he trotted off, leaving me alone with a sobbing mare. I watched the orderly walk away and disappear into the throng of patients. I sighed. “My name is Gray…” I slumped down and stared straight ahead of me, trying to sort out everything that had just happened.

I was in an asylum, surrounded my lunatics of varying degrees of insanity, as just evidenced by Gerald’s complete breakdown. My memories were still drawing blanks and it appeared that I needed more and more use of them as time went on. How was I going to survive in a place like this with no idea who I am?

And then there was Dreams who was apparently keeping another secret from me, one disturbing enough to Gerald that he lapsed into a fit of rage because of it.

He said that none of the other nurses and doctors trusted her word. What had happened six years ago?

I looked at the prone form of Dreams hunched over the table. I reached out a hoof and wrapped it around her neck, pulling her closer. She looked at me, her face stained with tears, and I held her gaze. We sat that way for several moments before she spoke up. “I’m… I’m sorry…”

“What for? What was Gerald talking about?” I smiled at her, for a change.

She shook her head. “No… No… I can’t—I don’t think I can… I can’t tell you here, alright? I can’t tell you now… Just… I’m sorry…”

“Hey…” I awkwardly patted her hoof. “It’s okay. I accept your apology. Don’t worry. You’re a great nurse.”

She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “You’re a good friend Pink. I wish the other patients were like you.” She hiccupped. “Heck, I wish my colleagues were like you.”

We lapsed into silence as the rest of the ponies in the cafeteria went back to their own conversations. It seemed disturbances like that were normal at asylums.

Sometime later, as the rest of the patients and nurses began to file out of the room, Dreams took me to go see my doctor for my first check-up and reintroductions. As she led me through the identical white halls, now bustling with activity, I wondered how anypony could navigate these corridors without getting lost. Even if I had my memory, I doubted that I could find my way through here without a guide.

She eventually led me to a set of double doors that she pushed open as we neared them. The room inside was the exact opposite of the sterile, cold hospital I had already grown used to. The floor was lined with thick, deep red carpeting and wood paneling covered the walls. There were at least five bookshelves crammed into the tiny room and whatever space was left was taken up by a couch and a small table.

It was completely bizarre to walk into a room like this after spending so long in that clean, white maze of hallways just behind us. Dreams noticed my amazement and chuckled. “Yeah, it nice, isn’t it? Definitely warmer and more inviting than the rest of the building, huh?”

“It’s nice,” I agreed, “Much more homely than out there.”

Our gazes met for a moment and I noticed how clear and sparkling her blue eyes really were. I felt a slight twinge of recognition deep inside me as we stared at each other…

She broke the stare suddenly, her cheeks burning as red as her mane. She pushed some hair out of her eyes and sighed. “Well,” she said, “shall we get you to Doctor?”

I nodded numbly and trailed after her over to a heavy wooden door on the far side of the room. My head was spinning. I was so sure I had remembered something, but it wasn’t there anymore…

Her eyes…

I knew I had seen them before…

But I had seen them, all throughout my first day here and presumably countless days before I forgot everything. But, something still seemed…different…

Dreams’ weighty knocks on the door snapped me out of my reverie. A voice came from the other room, “Come in!”

Dreams and I strode into the office. It was everything you would expect from a doctor’s office. There was a desk up against the far wall with a red velvet chair behind it. On the wall next to that was a large bank of windows, curtains drawn across them for Dreams’ benefit. Bookshelves lined another whole wall and a small record player sat on a side table next to a lamp.

In the middle of the room were two cushions on the floor, but only one was occupied. In one sat a grinning, middle-aged, light blue unicorn stallion, who I could only assume was Doctor, wearing a bowtie and a tweed suit coat a few sizes too small for him.

“Ah! Pink, Dreams!” exclaimed the stallion, motioning us to come in, “How are you two doing this fine afternoon?” And then without waiting for a response, he continued. “So, Dreams, how is our Pink doing since he woke up?”

Dreams smiled at him. “Hello Doctor. Er… Pink, or Gray, as he insists to be called now, has suffered some amnesia. I’ll write up a report later. But, it’s pretty serious, right Gray?”

The two of them turned to look at me and I realized they were waiting for me to say something. “Oh! Uhh, yeah… I can’t remember anything, Doctor. Everything prior to waking up this afternoon is just a big, empty space in my head. It’s a bit unsettling, to tell you the truth.”

Doctor nodded and scribbled something down on a clipboard in his lap. After a moment, he glanced up. “Alright, Dreams, you can go now. Pink and I have some things to discuss about these new developments.” He smiled. “Thank you as always. You’ve been a tremendous help.”

Dreams dipped her head respectfully and exited the room, the door closing behind her with a thud.

It was quiet again. Doctor was examining something on his clipboard and the only sound that I could hear was the ticking of the clock on the wall next to me. I was still standing where Dreams had left me and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to sit down or not.

It was so quiet. I gulped and tapped my hoof nervously. The air was thick and uncomfortable.

Tick-tock went the clock.

Doctor Doctor looked up from his notes and noticed that I still was standing. “You can sit down Pink, I’ll just be a moment.”

I plodded over to the empty cushion and laid down, sinking into the fabric slightly. “It’s Gray,” I drearily corrected the stallion.

Doctor looked back up again, his brow furrowed. “Excuse me, what was that?” His quill hung in midair, momentarily forgotten.

I sighed. “It’s… It’s the amnesia. I… The only thing I can remember is my name: Gray. I don’t remember ever being called Pink, even if everypony had been calling me that. I’d prefer to just be called Gray, if—if you don’t mind…”

The stallion set down his clipboard and quill. He blinked. “Alrighty Gray.” He said Gray lightly, as if he had never said it before. “I’m sure this is all very confusing for you. You probably have some questions, so I’ll try my best to give you a rundown of everything, alright?”

I nodded.

“Good,” he said, “Now, you are in the Fletcher Memorial Psychiatric Institute, top mental hospital in Equestria. You can see Fletcher, our founder, behind my desk.” He gestured to a painting of a bespectacled dark blue pegasus stallion who was smiling calmly out at the two of us. He looked nice, and….

Doctor continued. “You were admitted to this facility eighteen years ago after a particularly nasty bout of psychosis made you attack an elderly couple and their nephew, believing that they were terrifying creatures.”

With every word of that sentence, I felt my heart drop like a stone. I had hurt ponies? I hallucinated? Shit, just how messed up was I?

Tick-tock.

Doctor seemed to notice my feelings because he stopped and smiled in that calm, reassuring way that doctors do. “Are you alright Pi—Gray? If this is too much, we can always stop. I’m sure this is a lot to take in in just a few hours.”

I took a deep breath and ran my tongue along my lips. “No. No, it’s alright. You can keep going, Doc. I’d, uh… I’d like to know what’s wrong with me, if that’s possible…”

Doctor scrutinized me for a moment, staring directly at me with his unblinking light blue pupils. I wasn’t sure what he was looking at, but after a few chilling silent moments, he nodded and picked up his clipboard, flipping a few pages in.

“Alrighty, Gray, here we go.” He took a deep breath. “We have, over the years, determined that you have delusions of grandeur, Dissociative Identity Disorder, paranoia, Auditory and Visionary Schizophrenia, an extreme case of Sedatephobia, and Obsessive Compulsive Tendencies.”

I blinked. “Umm…”

“But,” interrupted Doctor, “We have treated many of these ailments to the point where they are virtually nonexistent. When you came to us, you were highly delusional, quiet, antisocial and often times violent. But now, your personality is stable, you haven’t deluded yourself that you are somepony famous, your panic attacks have subsided and your Schizophrenia has all but vanished.”

He smiled. “In fact, the only symptoms that continue to plague you are the OCPD and Sedatephobia, which were never too much trouble to keep in check. Of course, this all might have changed now since yesterday. Tell me, does silence still bother you?

My ear itched. I scratched it. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve noticed that. Whenever there has been silence, I’ve started to get really freaked out. I…” I hesitated, “That’s a real thing? Fear of silence? I’m afraid of silence?”

Doctor set his clipboard back down. “Yes Gray, you are. Very bad, too…” He trailed off and glanced at the record player over near the bookshelves. He stood up and trotted over to it. “In fact, I completely forgot to play some music for background noise like we always do. Sorry Pin… Gray.” He stooped down and rummaged through a stack of albums beside the table.

After a few moments he stood back up, grasping a record with his magic. “Let’s try your favorite song today, alrighty? Maybe it’ll bring back some memories.” He set the disc down and slotted the needle into the groove. The record player sparked to life and after a few moments of muteness came blaring trumpets and the most angelic, fragile voice.

“We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where, don’t know when,
But I know we’ll meet again, some sunny day…

…Keep smiling through,
Just the way you do,
‘Till the blue skies chase those dark clouds far away…”

“Alrighty, Gray,” said Doctor, talking over the music, “Is there anything else you’d like to know before we move on?”

My gaze drifted away from the record player and back to Doctor. I tapped one of my hooves on the floor absentmindedly. “Umm…” I thought for a moment. “What—What’s this treatment thing that made me lose my memory. What did you do to me?”

Doctors face fell and he cleared his throat, obviously uneasy about the situation. “Well…” he began, “I can’t tell you.
I snorted and leapt off of the cushion. “What do you mean you can’t tell me?” I stated suspiciously, “Don’t I have a right to know what happened to me?”

The stallion nodded and got up too, placing a hoof around my neck. I grunted and tried to break away, but he held me close. “I’m sorry Gray,” he whispered, “I can tell you it was highly experimental and that you knew the risks going in, but other than that, there’s nothing I can say. You didn’t want to remember. You went into the operation hoping that you would develop amnesia, and even I did not know your reasons behind it.” He sighed and turned away. “I’m… I’m sorry, but I’m not going to tell you what happened to you.”

I sighed and collapsed into my cushion. Why did I not want myself to know what happened to me? Why did I want to forget everything at the cost of possible becoming better…?

What did I do to myself?

Doctor cleared his throat,. “Now, is there anything else you would like to know?”

I regarded at him for a few seconds, racking my brain for anything else I would like to know. Doctor’s eyes flittered around the room, unwilling to meet my gaze. “Actually…” I began, “There is something I’d like to know. Why don’t I have a cutie mark? Did I never find my special talent?”

The light blue stallion looked confused. “What are you talking about? Of course you have a cutie mark Gray. It’s right there on your flank.”

I twisted my head around to look at my flanks. I was sure I hadn’t seen anything on my flanks when I looked that afternoon, but maybe I had missed something in my disorientation after waking up.

But there was nothing there. My haunches were covered with the same gray fur as the rest of my body. I looked back at Doctor, my head tilted in confusion. “No I don’t.” I said, “What are you talking about, Doc?”

The stallion stared at me hesitantly, his eyes unblinking. “Yes. You do Gray. I can see it right now.”

I leapt up and craned my neck in an attempt to see my behind better. Was I really that blind? But no… my cutie mark wasn’t there. I looked back at the unicorn. “I still can’t see it.” I hesitated. “Can… Can you tell me what it is then?” I asked in a small voice.

Doctor smiled and stood up. “Of course I can Pink—Sorry. Of course I can Gray.” His eyes slid to my flank. “It’s… It’s…” He stopped for a moment, staring at the spot my cutie mark should have been. His eyes drifted up to my face and he grinned again. “Oh… Gray, you must be so tired. Waking up and discovering that, not only can you not remember anything, but also that you’ve been in a mental institution for years must be horribly taxing on your mind. I can’t believe I’ve kept you this long. You should be resting…”

“That didn’t answer my question!” I shouted at the doctor.

“Now, I think we’ve covered enough today.” He continued, unabated, “I’ll let Dreams know she can come and escort you back to your room.” he turned away and picked up his clipboard again, “Now, I think we can schedule another appointment sometime next week, how does that sound?”

“I—I guess that sound alright, but Doc, what does my cutie—”

“Good!” He floated the clipboard over to his desk and came over to stand in front of me. “Now, I think that we’ll have to keep you under observation for a minimum of three months until we can see if the treatment was a success of not. I think that, based on today, things look promising. Besides the amnesia, you don’t seem to be having much mental trouble. That’s good.”

He ushered me towards the door and opened it, practically pushing me out of it. “Now, Dreams should be along any second. Just wait out here until she comes along, alright? I’ll see you next week.”

And with that he shut the door, abruptly ending our session and stranding me outside of his office. I groaned in exasperation and leaned against the wall. This day had been one adventure after another.

I needed a drink, but they probably didn’t serve alcohol here.

Why did Doctor tell me that he could see my cutie mark, only to gloss over it moments later and rush me out of the room? It was almost like he couldn’t see it either, but believed that it was there. But did I really not have one? Did I really manage to get through almost half of my life and not discover what I was meant to do?

I tapped a hoof on the tile floor, desperate for there to be some sort of noise in the ever oppressive silence.

I had to cure my amnesia, I realized. That was the only way I would ever get any answers. But how would I go about doing that? Everypony I had interacted with today didn’t spark any sort of recognition in my mind, besides the occasional twinge of familiarity. My mind was still as blank as a slate.

“Oh, hello Gray. Are you ready to go?” My head snapped up to see the green form of Dreams standing in front of me. She extended a hoof down and I grasped it, letting her help me off of the floor.

“Dreams,” I blurted out, “What does my cutie mark look like?”

The mare frowned and craned her head to look at my flank. “I… It’s...” She pursed her lips. “Just look yourself. It’s not like you’re blind.” She chuckled. “Now come on. I’d like to get you to bed so I can get some shut-eye myself. It’s getting late.” She trotted off without me, leaving me to play catch-up again.

She didn’t seem to be able to actually see my cutie mark either, but firmly believed that I had one. I decided not to press the subject again for a while.

As we walked down the corridors in silence, I hummed a little tune to myself. I wasn’t sure where I knew the melody from, but I must have been unconsciously remembering it from sometime before. That meant my memories were still in my head, somewhere, just waiting…

And…

The hallways were more crowded than they had been when I woke up. Several patients and nurses milled about, doing whatever they needed to to get ready for the night. Most of my fellow lunatics seemed normal enough, now that I had a good enough look at them. Sure, there were a few that I wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alleyway, but that was to be expected in a loony bin. But, even then, as I passed by, most smiled at me and a few said hello, and I just nodded in acknowledgement, unsure how I should respond.

Before I knew it, Dreams slowed to a halt. “Well, here’s your room.” Her horn sparked to life and a key floated out of her pocket and into the door. The lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing the small room I woke up in. My room.

“In you go, Gray. Have to lock the door behind you. It’s the standard procedure, every night. You’ll get used to it,” she reassured.

I stepped into the room, my room, and turned to face her. “Lights go out in about an hour, so make sure you’re in bed by then. Normally, we make you take pills before you go to bed, but we’ll forego them tonight for you. If there are any lingering effects from the operation, we wouldn’t want the pills to interfere. Now, partway through the night, the night orderlies will come in to check and make sure everything is alright. At least pretend that you’re asleep when they come in, even if you’re not. I mean, if they catch you awake, you won’t get it too much trouble. You’re one of our more trusted patients here.”

“Oh-oh-okay…” I gulped. “So… I guess this is it then? The end of this crazy day? I just get to go to sleep and begin my new life as a mental patient tomorrow?”

The green unicorn shrugged. “I know… And I’m sorry about how confusing everything must be. Amnesia is hard on anypony and doubly so on ponies like us…” She chuckled and drew me in for a hug, squeezing my body tight. “Everything’s going to be alright Gray. I’m sure you’ll start to remember everything soon enough.”

She let me go and backed out of the room. Her magical aura flared around the door handle and it slowly swung shut. The last thing I saw before I was locked in my little room was the mare’s deep blue eyes watching me, full of concern and sadness.

Then, that too, came to an end and I was left alone.

In silence.

I felt my ear involuntarily twitch.

I stared at the spot Dreams used to occupy, wishing, hoping, that she would reappear and we could sit down and talk and do something, anything, to break this silence.

But she didn’t.

I took a deep breath and sighed, trying to let go of all the worry and confusion I felt. I tore my gaze away from the door and decided to busy myself with relearning what was in my room, which wouldn’t take that long considering its sparse furnishings.

I hummed to myself once again as I investigated my room. The potted plant in the corner was definitely plastic. I wouldn’t have thought it anything special, though upon closer inspection, there were three cards tucked in between the stems of the plant. Two of them were simple, crude, little things that were probably made by some of the other patients as get-well cards for my treatment. There was one from the three ponies Dreams said were my friends: Marmalade, Broom and Starshine. The second was from Dreams herself and was addressed to ‘My favorite patient, Pink.’

The other card was a store-bought one signed by a few of the doctors and nurses in a scrawl that I couldn’t even read.
I liked the first two much more.

My investigations moved over to my bed, which had been remade and tucked in like it had been that afternoon sometime in the intervening hours I had been out. The table next to it and the battered lamp sitting on it were unremarkable and were, in all likelihood, standard issue for every room.

I had moved on to trying to peer out of the slit in the wall that barely passed as a window when I heard some sort of speaker crackle to life. I froze, afraid that I had broken some unknown rule and I was going to be reprimanded, but nothing happened.

Instead, what I did hear was the gentle crashing of the ocean on the shore. My head tilted to the side in confusion and I quickly turned around, my eyes scanning the room for the source. Eventually, I saw a small, unassuming speaker in the top corner of the room, camouflaged by the painting on the ceiling.

The ocean noises continued for several more minutes before it faded out and was replaced by birdcalls and chirping insects. Then, that too was faded out to make room for the sound of rushing winds and distant, tolling bells.

The sounds continued like that for several more minutes before I realized that I didn’t need to hum any longer; there was no more silence pressing down on my head.

Ambient background noise was perfect for a patient who was terrified of silence. I nearly laughed out loud. I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders; they really knew how to take care of the patients here.

My attention drifted over to the desk in the corner of the room. It was bolted to both the floor and wall and was about as utilitarian as one would expect. However, on top of it was a small, unassuming, black notebook with a short pencil stuck in between its pages.

I flipped the book open to the cover page. In it, hastily scribbled in, were the words ‘Property of Pink.’ It was my journal, a diary, a notebook.

My own writing.

I opened it to the page marked by the pencil, which was almost at the end. The page was covered in neat, scrolling script, contrasting the messy scrawl that was at the beginning. There didn’t seem to be any sort of date or numbering system, so I had no idea when the entry was written. My past self didn’t exactly make it easy on my amnesiac brain.

I began reading:

Today, Needlepoint attacked Cuckoo Nest during lunch. He just started biting Cuckoo’s ear, tearing off a big chunk and swallowing it whole. There was blood everywhere. One of the other patients, Waterworks, joined in, pulling out some of Cuckoo’s feathers out. By the time the orderlies got the two of them, Cuckoo was lying on the floor, severely injured.

I asked one of the nurses about it afterwards, and she said she didn’t think that Cuckoo would make it.

Needlepoint and Waterworks got sentenced to Isolation Ward for seven months. I feel so sorry for them. Nopony deserves that, even violent, cannibalistic savages like those two.

I don’t know what they were doing without supervision. As far as I could remember, they always had an orderly watching over them, just to make sure nothing happened. I think they planned it. More often than not, they’ve been huddled in a corner of the Rec Room, whispering to themselves. I never gave it much thought.

Doc said I used to have violent urges like that, but I can’t remember them. Those early days were a blur of uncertainty and terror.

Speaking of which, Doctor told me that he might have some sort of new treatment to make me one hundred percent better. It’s not fool-proof and Doc said that it could cause some memory loss, but he wouldn’t tell me what exactly it entailed before I was sure I wanted to go through with it.

It would be nice to see the outside for once. Fletcher’s hallways are getting monotonous.

I think I’ll do it.

All I can do is hope that I’ll still remember my friends and all the good times I’ve had. It’d be nice to see the outside with all of them sometime in the future.

The passage ended there, without as much as a signature signing off. I felt the corners of my eyes grow damp and I quickly wiped away any indication of my tears. I wasn’t crying. Of course not.

I held the book in my hooves and briefly wondered what the beginning was like. I began to flip to the first page, but I hesitated briefly.

What would I find there? Did I really want to see? What was I like when I was really crazy?

I teetered on the brink. Should I? Should I not? Should? Should? Should? Should—

Then, the world answered for me as the lights in the room flickered out, leaving me in darkness. Bed-time. I could always try to read in the dark, but already I felt my eyelids begin to grow heavy. I placed the book back down on the table and shuffled my way back over to the bed and crawled in.

I clutched at the thin covers and pulled them over my body. The bed was as uncomfortable as I remembered it, though at least I wasn’t trapped like I was that afternoon. I fluffed the pillow as best as I could and fell back into the cushions, moaning as a wave of exhaustion hit me.

I flipped over on to my back and stared at the ceiling. The pegasi foals stared back at me, with their cheerful faces and unblinking eyes. Why did I have these things painted on my ceiling? They weren’t cute in any way.

I turned on my side so that I wouldn’t have to see those overly happy pegasi and their smiling, shining sun. They were unnerving.

A yawn escaped my mouth and as I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, drained after the long day.

And one single thought invaded my mind.

I really had to take a piss.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

I awoke the next morning before the lights had switched back on.

The barest hints of the sunrise filtered through my tiny window, illuminating the ceiling with a thin strip of light. The cherubic foals smiled down at me with their haunting faces and I defiantly stared back at them

I spent the better part of that dawn lying in bed, sorting through my thoughts. I needed the free time to think about everything I had learned the day before. I was still a bit unsettled by the fact I was clinically insane and spent to better part of my life in an asylum. It would definitely take some time to adjust to life here.

I probably could’ve spent the rest of the day thinking things over, but life had other ideas. The ceiling lights flickered on, searing my eyes with the unexpected light.

I groaned and sat up, stretching my hooves and working out a few kinks in my back. It was mere seconds later that the door latch rattled and the heavy iron door swung open. Dreams casually walked through the opening, a shining smile plastered on her face. Her outfit was wrinkled, like she had slept in it. “Good morning, Gray!” she chirped, “Have a good first night?”

The night sky shimmered across the lake’s surface, the thousands of stars twisting and bobbing in the water’s gentle current. Water crept up on the shoreline, covering the rocks in its murky depths, and then ebbed, receding back into the darkness.

“Gray?”

I glanced up at Dreams. I smiled. “Yes. Yes, I had a good night… though, it’s not like I have any to compare it to…” I smiled, my rather depressing comment earning a chuckle from the mare.

“Come on,” she said, helping me off of the bed, “Today, we’re getting you back on your schedule. Every other day, you get up a few hours earlier than the other patients to go practice with the institution’s band.”

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. “There’s a band here?”

Dreams opened the door for us and we began walking down the silent hallways to our destination. “Oh yes,” she continued, “the more musically-inclined ponies staying here have gotten together over the years and formed a little group where they practice and compose music. Sometimes they even perform for the rest of the patients. It’s nice.” She chuckled. “There are seven of you, including you, and while you all are not the best in the world, you all give it your best. It’s nice.”

We turned a corner, narrowly dodging a stallion pushing a laundry cart somewhere. “That’s… an unexpected thing to have here. I wouldn’t have guessed that.” I paused, processing the information. “What instrument did I play?”

“Oh, you were good at almost any instrument you got your hooves on, but you always had a sweet spot for the piano. I’m hoping that maybe getting you back behind it might jog your memory a bit.”

I grunted in affirmation and followed after her. The halls were quiet at this time of the morning. I didn’t even see any other nurses around. It was quiet.

I needed some sort of sound.

“So what else is there to do around here?” I asked.

“Well,” Dreams began, almost mechanical, “We have a variety of facilities here for patients to use during their free time. There’s a gymnasium, a swimming pool, an art room, several recreational rooms, and a sprawling garden, outside, on the grounds. Of course, you need to have permission and supervision to enter any of those rooms, except the rec room, just as a precaution. Don’t want anypony to accidently fall in the pool.” She smiled. “That’s the spiel we have to memorize. It answer your question?”

I nodded. “I’d like to go see the garden sometime…”

“I’ll ask somepony to take you down there sometime. It—Aaah!” Dreams let out a short cry of surprise as she stumbled, nearly tripping and falling to the ground.

I looked at her in alarm. “Are you alright?”

Dreams stiffened and stood up straight, smoothing out her uniform. ‘Y-yes, I’m fine. I just don’t have that great of a sense of balance. It happens…” She glanced down the hallway behind us. “Actually, Pink, do you think you could go on ahead without me? I-I forgot that I need t-to do something important…” Her voice was shaky.

“Oh, I suppose I can…” I said.

Dreams smiled. It wasn’t one of her normal, wide smiles that were full of teeth. No, this one was slight, just a raising of the lips, almost as if she was trying to cover something up. “Thanks.” she said. “Now, keep walking down the hall until you get to the end. The music room is the very last door.” She gestured down the hall. “I… I’ll be back soon alright? I’m sorry.”

She turned and trotted off the way we came, almost swaying erratically as she walked down the hall. I watched her until she turned a corner, her fiery tail disappearing out of sight. I looked at the spot where she vanished for several seconds and then turned around and made my way to the music room with a heavy sigh.

I arrived at my destination a minute later. The door at the end of the hallway was one of the few labeled doors in the entire facility. ’Music Room’ was proudly displayed on the metal door.

I put a hoof on the door, intending to push it open, but I stopped. I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat; I wasn’t sure if I could do this.

My legs shook nervously, and I fought back the incredible urge to turn around and escape. Behind that door was the first major connection to my life. There would be ponies who knew me better than any other pony I had met the previous day. My friends would be in there, and they expected their friend, but… But I couldn’t give them their friend. He was gone, and I had taken his life. Could I even really be considered to be anypony yet? Was a little over one day enough to constitute a pony? What if they didn’t want to be my friends anymore? What then? What would I have done? What would I do now? What could I do now!? I didn’t know anything. If not for Dreams, I wouldn’t have a clue what to do. I would be even more lost. I would be a nopony, a useless, scared husk of a stallion I once was. I couldn’t go in there! I couldn’t! I shouldn’t see my friends. I shouldn’t subject them to having to deal with an amnesiac stallion who couldn’t even remember his name or where he had been for the past however many years! I couldn’t! I shouldn’t! I wouldn’t! I…

Hello. Yes, I’d like to order breakfast please. I’d like coffee for two, some toast with jam and a glass of milk... Thanks…

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Immediately, I was greeted by a cacophony of sound. Every pony in the room was playing on some instrument or other: Guitar, drums, piano, violin, trumpet, bassoon, harmonica, and there were even more instruments scattered around the room.

There was silence when I walked in.

Six stallions looked at me, recognition slowly spreading across each of their faces. “Hey,” said one, “it’s Pink!”

“We can see that, ya idjit!” hissed another.

A great, hulking stallion approached me and slapped me on my back, nearly knocking the wind out of me. “Pink!” His voice was very quiet and airy for such a large pony. “We haven’t seen you in a while! How dat operation thing go?”

I coughed and broke out of the stallion’s grasp. “W-well… I can’t exactly remember. I woke up yesterday afternoon with no memories of anything. Amnesia, you see… And… call me Gray now. I don’t remember ever being called Pink.”

The stallion chuckled and slung a hoof around my neck, pulling me in close. “Hey, dat’s alright. I’ll introduce you to da band again. My name’s Svelte, but everypony calls me Mauve.” I opened my mouth to ask something but he caught me off with another boisterous chuckle. “Yes, I know dat my coat’s blue and not purple. It’s just what dey calls me.” He shrugged. “I play da string instruments.”

Mauve pulled me over the stallion who had first spoken up when I had entered. “Dis here’s Coalcatcher. He plays da drums like a pro. Coalcatcher, meet Gray.” I barely had time to shake the stallion’s hoof before Mauve whisked me off to the next pony. “Dis pegasus is named Dew Drop.” The stallion in question said hello. “You couldn’t find betta’ trumpeter even if you found a pony with a trumpet cutie mark! Ha!”

Mauve introduced me to two other ponies, one mare named Papyrus who could apparently play a mean guitar, and one stallion named Maestro who orchestrated and led many of the songs the band played, before yanking me away to meet the last member of the ensemble.

“And dis little fella’ is Broom.” Mauve gestured at a small, red unicorn that had been standing behind some of the other stallions. Broom looked at me and smiled, but didn’t say anything. “Broom is one of da best bassists I’ve ever heard!” continued Mauve, “He doesn’t speak though. Quiet little thing, he is.”

Broom dipped his head in greeting, as if he had dropped something, and stretched out a hoof for me to shake.

But I didn’t move. I stared at the unicorn, lost in thought. There was a feeling in my stomach, almost like the twinges of recognition I had when I first met Dreams. I was so… so certain that I had met Broom before, but… he didn’t seem right, almost as if…

“Gray, you feelin’ alright?” Mauve shook me.

I shook my head. “Yeah… yeah, I’m alright. I just…” I licked my lips. “I… Nice to meet you Broom.” My nose itched and I shook Broom’s still outstretched hoof.

Mauve steered me back away from Broom and to the opposite side of the room. “Yeah, you and Broom are friends. Da two of you has da same group therapy and all…” We stopped in front of a piano. “Now, here’s your little slice o’ heaven, Gray,” explained Mauve, “You play da piano like a fancy Canterlot pianist, if I ever heard one.”

He pushed me towards the instrument. “Go on, see if it don’t jog your memory or somthin’.”

I gave the piano an odd look and sat on the bench, feeling the wood give slightly. It all felt so familiar, but… I still felt as if something was wrong. It was sort of like remembering that I remembered my memories, but they weren’t actually in my head.

The door on the other side of the room opened and shut. I turned my head to see Dreams slide into the room. “Hello boys,” she said when the others noticed her, “I see you’ve already got Pi—Gray at the piano again.” She giggled, almost ludicrously, and trotted over to stand near me, Broom and Mauve.

“Go on,” insisted Dreams, “try to play something.” The others, watching on, nodded in encouragement.

Glancing at the keyboard, I tentatively ran my hoof over the piano keys, inadvertently playing a few jarring notes. Still unsure, I looked back up at Dreams and Broom who both motioned for me to continue. Their faces looked so expectant, that I supposed that I had to try. Sighing, I scooted closer to the piano and stared at the white, polished keys, unsure where to start.

I placed one of my hooves on a key, hearing the sweet, drawn-out note it produced. I tapped on another key further down the keyboard, rapidly alternating between the two notes. A small smile forced its way onto my mouth. It certainly felt… natural. I could get the hang of it. I ran my hoof down the keys, playing a succession of notes that I thought sounded alright.

I experimented like that for a while before finally settling on trying to hammer out the tune I’d been humming since the previous day. My hooves descended the keys, bringing to life the music trapped inside my head. It wasn’t that complicated of a melody, but considering I couldn’t remember how to play a piano, it was amazing I managed to work it out.

After a few minutes of finding my groove, I began singing softly under my breath, voicing lyrics to the slow, melodic composition as they came to me.

“…So, won’t you please say “Hello,”
To the folks that I know,
Tell ‘em it won’t be long.
‘Cause they’d be happy to know that as you saw me go,
I was singing this song…

…We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where, don’t know when,
But I know we’ll meet again, some sunny day…”

I moved my hooves up the right of the keyboard, playing the melody slightly faster and louder as I became more engrossed in the music. I closed my eyes, letting my hooves fly around the keys, doing what felt natural.

A genuine smile crept onto my face as I continued to play. I didn’t know exactly how long I sat there, madly playing that piano, but it felt like I could keep playing forever. They were right: this was what I was good at.

But of course, I couldn’t keep playing forever. Eventually, my hooves ground to a halt as I finished off the song with a flourish. As the last note faded into the air, I realized how still the room was. I cautiously turned around, unsure if what everypony’s reaction was going to be. But every pair of eyes in the room was on me, and below every single one of those eyes was a smile. Everypony broke into applause, stamping their hooves on the ground in admiration.

Dreams and Broom walked over to me, looking particularly proud. Dreams’ face was streaked with tears and she was waxing poetic over how it was almost like I still had my memories. Broom simply nodded at me, a small grin on his face.

We spent the next few hours in the music room talking amongst ourselves. Mauve and the others showed off for me and shared stories of bygone days. I hardly noticed the time passing, but before I knew it, it was ten o’clock and one of the orderlies shooed us from the room, escorting us to the cafeteria for brunch.

Dreams, Broom, the other musicians and I all filed out of the room and trudged after the orderly in relative silence; talking wasn’t permitted in the hallways most of the time, apparently. Dreams apparently never cared about that rule. I made an effort to focus on the clip-clopping of our hooves to drive away my growing anxiety.

Breathe.

To be honest, I felt at home with the group; there was something natural and relaxing about these ponies I had just re-met. I suppose that there was something still buried within my mind that still recognized the hospital band.

We entered the cafeteria a few minutes later and got some lukewarm leftover food from the main breakfast that morning. The eight of us, watched over by a guard, sat at a table and ate quickly and quietly until one of the band members, Dew Drop, began screaming about the worms in his food and how they were crawling inside of him. He hit one of the ponies beside him in a desperate attempt to escape the table and scrambled over to the guard, begging to be let out.

Needless to say, he was quickly subdued and brought to the infirmary.

Once things had quieted down a bit, we finished up our meals and Dreams ushered me and Broom out of the room, realizing that in all the commotion, we were nearly late for group therapy, my first one.

We hurried through the identical hallways, sidestepping numerous ponies along the way. I attempted to remember the twists and turns as Dreams navigated us through the maze of hallways and doors, but I quickly found myself losing track of where we came from.

Eventually, we came to rest outside another metal door, once again unambiguous from any of the others throughout the hospital if not for a small sign outside that read ‘Meeting Room 46-J.’ There was large sky-blue stallion standing guard outside the door. Dreams greeted him, and he merely nodded in response, opening the door for the three of us. Dreams walked through first, followed shortly by Broom and myself.

There were three ponies already inside when we entered, sitting in a semicircle. Two of them, my friends, I assumed, looked up when they heard the door open, their faces hopeful. The other, a periwinkle unicorn stallion wearing a coat and tie—a doctor, I could only guess—only glanced up from his clipboard in mild disinterest when we entered.

The two ponies, one male, one female, approached us. The stallion, a rather short, nervous looking tan pegasus opened his mouth to say something but stopped short when he got near. He glanced at Dreams, “I—Is he…?” He gestured at me.

Dreams nodded sullenly and the stallion’s ears folded back in sadness. He exchanged a worried look with the mare behind him. Dreams took a step forward and ushered the two of them away for a moment, talking to them in a hushed voice. I couldn’t hear their whispers, but I knew they were talking about me. I cast a nervous glance at Broom who smiled reassuringly at me.

After a few moments, Dreams and the other two trotted back over. The stallion cautiously approached me, nearly tiptoeing over. “S-ssooo-oo… Pink—S-sorry. Gray.” He fretfully smoothed down the front of his coat and chuckled. “I—I, uhh… I’m S-Starshine, your… uhh… Your best f-friend, I ss-suppose? I, uhh… Heh… I see you-you’ve already met Br-Broom…”

I smiled at him and offered my hoof, but he shrunk back, avoiding my touch. “I—I don’t really li-like being t-t-touched.” He smiled apologetically. “S-sorry…”

I set my hoof back on the ground, scuffing it back and forth nervously. “It’s alright… It’s not your fault that I can’t remember.”

“You’re right.” The mare, a pink, middle-aged earth pony, spoke up, glaring at me with eyes as sharp as daggers. “It’s not Star’s fault. It’s yours. You’re the one who went and did this to yourself.”

She stepped between Starshine and me. “He’s the one who should be saying he’s sorry. He—”

“Marm,” pleaded Starshine from behind her, “M-marm, please st-stop. He didn’t mean…”

“Oh, he knew what he was doing when he went in!” growled the mare, turning to face the pegasus “He could’ve died! The procedure could’ve gone wrong!” She whirled around to face me, distraught. “You could’ve died, you idiot! We could’ve lost you forever! I could’ve lost—” She broke off, teetering on her hooves for a moment and then broke down sobbing. Dreams rushed forward and embraced the mare and let her cry into her shoulder.

I blinked.

Starshine smiled apologetically from behind the two mares. His face was flushed red with embarrassment from the mare’s outburst.

Broom silently trotted over and sat in the middle of the floor as if he was unconcerned the mare’s anger.

I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when I walked into the room for group therapy, but I certainly didn’t expect to be yelled at.

Keep off the grass.

The doctor in the corner cleared his throat, bringing our attention to him. “Well,” he said in a slow, lethargic voice, “It certainly sounds like we have a lot to talk about today.” He gestured at the floor. “Why don’t we all sit down and we’ll begin, alright?”

Dreams slowly helped the pink mare back to her hooves and led her over to one of the cushions. The mare wiped her eyes with a free hoof and took a deep, shuddering breath. She whispered something to Dreams, who nodded in reply.

Leaving the mare on the cushion, Dreams took the seat in between the doctor and Broom. I sat on the other side of Broom and Starshine sat between the mare and I. There was one cushion empty, on the other side of the doctor.

The doctor cleared his throat again; it was a sort of wet, sick sort of sound. “Now, for all those who might not remember, my name is Doctor Jekyll and I preside over these group therapy sessions. As I’m sure you are all aware by now, one of us, Pinkerton, has had some memory loss. I think it would be prudent to go around and reintroduce ourselves. Dreams, if you’d like to start…?”

Dreams nodded and stood up, unconsciously smoothing down her rumpled outfit. “Well, you’ve already met me. My name is Dreams and I am a nurse here at Fletcher’s Memorial. I—”

Doctor Jekyll cut her off. “Yes, yes. I’m sure Pinkerton knows that. I know that we know…” He sighed. “Now, Broom, if you’d be so kind to go next… and, and, so on, please.”

Broom dipped his head in acknowledgement and unsteadily stood up. He stared at me for a moment, as if wavering on the edge of a decision, and then walked over, so that he stood in front of me. He smiled and put a hoof on my shoulder. I noticed that he was missing most of his teeth.

Not a soul in the entire room made a sound as the maroon unicorn opened his mouth and spoke in a deep baritone voice that didn’t seem at all suited for such a small pony.

“Friend,” he said simply.

Then, he turned and silently shuffled back to his cushion.

I let go a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Dreams whispered something into Brooms’ ear and he shook his head and bobbed up and down.

Next, Starshine stood up and turned towards me. “W-well, my name is Suh-ssstuh-Starshine, but I told you tha-that already… I… Umm… kkh—can’t… I can’t… I can’t… I can’t… Don’t? Nuh-nnnoo-noooo… No. I—W-well, as bruh-Broom so elo-eloq-eluh-eloquently put it, we are all still your fr-friends Pi—err… Gray.” He abruptly stopped there and nodded, as if he was satisfied with what he said. He mumbled something and laid back down.

There was a cold and uncomfortable silence after Starshine sat down. He glanced over at the pink mare who had yet to introduce herself and gestured for her to say something. She snorted and turned away, purposely staring at the wall instead of any of us.

Starshine whispered something to her and Doctor Jekyll grunted impatiently. He violently scribbled something down on his clipboard, his eyes flicking between the mare and his papers.

After about a minute, she swiveled around and reluctantly stood up, scowling all the while. The doctor coughed again and the mare sighed and began to speak, her voice cracking just a little bit. “My name is Marmalade. My friends call me Marm, but you,” Her eyes flicked over to me, fixing me in a stare. “You haven’t re-earned the right to call me a friend yet.” she finished with a growl.

Doctor Jekyll spoke up before anypony could say anything. “It seems like you have some deep-seated resentment for the decision that Pinkerton made, do you care to explain?”

She snorted, and tossed her mane with a flick of her head. “I mean… I—I’m just so concerned about him. He’s an idiot. He doesn’t seem to give much thought into his actions. He’s… so headstrong and brash, I just… worry… I…” She paused and took a deep breath, steadying herself. “And now, he can’t even remember anything… And… And I don’t even know if he’s the same pony I talked to three days ago! He went and threw his life away! He’s not the same…” Marmalade’s voice died in a whimper and she glanced at me. I couldn’t meet her gaze.

Doctor Jekyll coughed lightly and looked at me. “Do you have anything that you would like to say in response, Pinkerton?” His pen was scribbling away on his clipboard but he wasn’t even looking at it.

My eyes felt like lead weights as I forced them upwards to look at Marmalade. Her face was expressionless. “Well… I have nothing to justify my decision. I can’t remember anything, so I can only assume that I had a good reason to go through with the procedure. I mean…” I forced a smile and looked at the ground. “I don’t know if I can be Pink anymore. I have none of my memories—of his memories—other than these past two days. Everypony is expecting me to be Pink, but I don’t remember how, and I don’t remember him… All I know is that the one thing that sticks out in my mind is the name Gray and that just feels like it has to be my name. It’s the one thing I know. I can try to be Pink, but I don’t know if I can. I’d love to, I’d love to be the stallion that you all knew, but… but if I can’t, I think being Gray would be just as good… I don’t know… There’s just so much I don’t know…”

There was silence, but I hardly noticed it.

“…I’m sorry…” whispered Marmalade, “I didn’t mean any of what I said. I just… was so worried for you, I wasn’t thinking… I…” She yelled and hit herself in her head. “Argh! I always do this! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” She looked at me, the hurt clearly visible in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I really am…”

Doctor Jekyll’s monotone and sluggish voice broke the stillness. “It’s alright Marmalade, you didn’t do anything wrong… and neither did you Pinkerton.” He adjusted his tie and cleared his throat again, as though the matter was taken care of and Marmalade’s fit of anger was of no importance. “Now, as most of you are aware, we are missing the eighth member of our group today; Mister Gerald is currently detained in solitary following yesterday’s outburst during lunch, and should be out in three days.” He glanced at a small clock hanging on the wall behind him, “Now, since re-introducing ourselves took longer than expected, we won’t have enough time to each take a turn speaking. So, I believe we should begin to wrap up this session.”

It was a blustery autumn evening. The sky was overcast, and every few minutes, another leaf fluttered down from the trees to land on the cobblestone road below. A taxi carriage rattled by, the driver, wearing a scarf that trailed behind him, talked politely to his passengers. Hot breath fogged the window pane, obscuring the view outside.

“Pinkerton? Boy, do you hear me?” Doctor Jekyll snapped at me. I glanced at him, my eyes wide. “Boy, I asked you how you felt. You’ve had us waiting impatiently for a full minute now. That should be well enough time to collect your thoughts.”

“Oh, I… Uhh…” My eyes drifted over the other ponies, who were all watching me expectantly. “I feel fine, I suppose. I mean… as well as I could, given the circumstances… Like I said before, I’m still trying to come to terms with what is going on and who I am going to be… It’s…” I took a deep, shuddering breath. “I just don’t know.”

Doctor Jekyll nodded slightly. “Hmm… I suppose that’s well enough for now. I’m sure that you’ve been under enough duress these two days.” He peered around the room and stood up. “I doubt anypony here would object to ending a mite early. Just means you all have all the more free time before dinner.” He chuckled and gathered up his papers. “I’ll see you all in two days’ time.” And with those closing words, he was gone.

The rest of us stood up as the doctor abruptly exited and Marmalade immediately made a beeline over to me. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I really am.” She tentatively put a hoof around me, but then clasped me in a full-on hug. “I just… I just get so silly sometimes and I can get so angry. And it’s not just you. I—I get so concerned over everypony here. I have to take care of them, you see? They can get into so much trouble if I don’t keep an eye on them.” She giggled and led me towards the door, suddenly unexpectedly cheerful. “I have to keep all these ponies from getting hurt. I love them all so much. I just can’t bear to see them get into trouble. I can get a bit angry when they do stupid things… I’m sorry.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but my words died in my throat as Starshine walked over to us. “Mmm-Marm, come on, let’s g-go to the Rec…” He stopped as he noticed that the two of us were having a conversation. “Oo-oohh… S-sorry. I didn’t, well, I mean, I didn’t nuh-know you were talking…”

Marmalade smiled and tossed her golden hair back. “It’s fine Star. I was just apologizing again.”

We were out in the hallway again. The doctor had already wandered off and the guard that was outside the door when we had entered had vanished. Dreams was saying something to Broom, who was nodding intermittently.

Marmalade tapped me on the shoulder. I glanced back at her inquiringly. Realizing I hadn’t heard what she had said, she sighed and repeated herself. “I asked if you wanted to come with Star, Dreams, Broom and me to the Rec Room. We were thinking of playing some cards until dinner. You always liked that.”

“Well…” I hesitated and pawed at the ground. “I was thinking of maybe heading back to my room and resting. I… I have a lot to think about.”

Marmalade looked crestfallen. “Oh… Well you’ll have to have Dreams to bring you back. I guess we’ll hold off our card game ‘til the two of you can join in tomorrow or something.

“Yeah…” My eyes wandered back over to Dreams, who had finished her conversation with Broom and was walking back over.

“Did I hear I needed to escort somepony back to their room?” she asked.

“P—Gray want-ted to rest a bit before d-dinner.” explained Starshine, “I… Well, I don’t bl-blame him.”

Dreams gave me look like she was almost disappointed in me. “Alright,” she said, “I’ll take you. Come on Gray.” She turned and walked away.

Marmalade smiled at me, all remnants of her previous hatred gone. “Go on.” She shooed me away, literally pushing me down the hallway. “Go on after her. We’ll catch up tomorrow morning.”

With one last glance at the group of ponies that called themselves my friends, I followed after Dreams.

The two of us walked back to my room in silence, save for the noise of our hooves on the tile below.

My mind was abuzz with thoughts and fleeting memories that I could never quite remember. There was something so familiar about my friends, but it wasn’t the memories from my forgotten years in the asylum, it was something altogether different… I couldn’t place the feeling, but it felt as if I had known many of the ponies around the facility, almost as if they were from some previous life. But… that couldn’t be possible.

My mind was drawing a blank, just like it had been doing since I woke up. Why couldn’t I just have some normalcy?

Ten…nine…eight…seven…

What was normal anymore? Things had been abnormal ever since I had woken up. Everypony seemed to think I would just easily accept I had been living most of my life in an insane asylum, but that was a lot of information to digest and process.

Was this amnesia a curse or a blessing? Would I truly have been happier knowing and remembering all these ponies that considered themselves my friends, instead of being sane and forgetting everything?

What was I like before? What kind of pony was I that I would throw away most everything I knew and loved for the wild hope of fixing myself? Did that make me a bad pony? Did that mean I betrayed my friends?

I didn’t—

A drawn-out, ragged scream broke the silence. I froze mid-step and looked around for its source. Dreams stumbled to a halt a few seconds later, noticing I was no longer beside her. “Pi… Gray, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Can’t you hear that screaming? It’s… horrible. What-” I was cut off by a pounding from one of the doors a few meters down from us.

“Oh thank Celestia!” shouted a stallion’s voice from behind the door, “There’s somepony out there! Haha!” The pounding on the door intensified, as did the voice. “Oh please, get me out of here! I-I don’t know what’s going on! Help me, please, please… I…I… I don’t want to be in here anymore! It’s dark! I can’t see anything! So… S-s-so, so dark and cold! Please! I…” The stallion began sobbing loudly, his knocks on the door getting even harder. “PLEASE! Somepony! I heard you! P-please help! Oh, w-where the hell are you!? I heard you! I know I heard… didn’t I? I… Oh, I don’t know what’s going on! Ple—please! I’m so scared, I…I… They’re come-coming!! Oh! Oh, aaahh! I can feel them come out of the walls, se-eeping down to the floor, crawling into my eyes, whispering into my head. Whispering terrible things! And I can hear their pain! I- I… Oh... please don’t hurt me… Who is…? Where… I can't find my marbles...”

The voice broke off and all was quiet from behind the door. I looked at Dreams. “What just…?”

Dreams put a hoof over my shoulder and dragged me forward. “It’s alright Gray. He’s just… one of our more special patients. It’s—It’s fine. Forget about him” She smiled, but I could tell that it was forced. She was trying much too hard to gloss over what had just happened.

She let lose a nervous laugh and squared her shoulders and, undaunted, continued back to my room. I reluctantly followed her, watching as her entire body trembled as she walked.

She wasn’t fine.

I glanced back at the door, but couldn’t determine which one the voice came from.

There was one final, haunting scream from somewhere down the hall as I searched. The stallion clawed at the door for a few seconds and then fell silent. I shuddered and continued after Dreams, who kept walking without so much as a glance to make sure I was following.

Once again, we walked in silence, though it was much more strained than before. Dreams was trying her best to put on a brave face, and failing miserably, but my mind only had thoughts for that poor stallion.

Who was he? The poor soul was obviously one of the worse-off patients at the institute. Sure, I had already been here two days, and had already seen two or three complete mental breakdowns, but for the most part, most of the patients seemed sane enough.

But, aside from those incidents and some quirky behavior, if I hadn’t been informed that I was in an asylum, it might have taken me a long time to realize that most of the ponies around me were insane.

But in the case of the stallion behind the door, it was evident that he was not sane.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice when we stopped. Dreams brushed her tail against my withers, stopping me before I walked into her. “Well, here we are.” she said. The gray door we stopped in front of was the same as all the other ones. “I’ll come collect you when it’s time for dinner, alright?” continued Dreams as she opened the door to let me in. “Try to get some rest, Gray. You need it.” She smiled and closed the door.

“Wait!” I said. The door stopped, but didn’t reopen. Dreams didn’t say anything and the door obscured whatever expression she might have had. “Are you going to explain who that stallion back there was?” I finished.

Dreams took a deep, shaky breath. I could imagine her familiar smile plastered on her face as she thought of an answer. “What… stallion are you talking about, Gray?” Her voice oozed false sweetness. “You mean Doctor Jekyll, the one presiding over the group therapy? Don’t worry about him. He’s a little two-faced, but—”

I shut the door mid-sentence. I half-expected that she wasn’t going to give any information about the screaming pony we heard in the hall. She knew who I was talking about, but was hell-bent to ignore him, and any questions I had.

Just like my cutie mark.

I sighed and collapsed onto my bed.

I could figure everything out later.

I closed my eyes.

Author's Note

Based on “Vera”

Chapter Sixteen: Where the Hell Are You? (Part Two)

Chapter Sixteen

Where the Hell Are You? (Part Two)

…Good morning…

I opened one eye.

Then, another.

I rolled over, turning towards the other side of the bed with a smile on my face. “Hey…” I said wearily, “have a good night’s sleep?”

Nopony was there to answer me, certainly not any mare.

I blinked, and my eyes focused on the blank white wall ahead of me. I sighed and flipped back over to face the cheerful faces of the pegasi foals on my ceiling. I wasn’t sure why I was expecting there to be anypony beside me this morning. It must have been the last remnants of a dream.

Months had gone by in a blur. Or, at least that’s what the nurses told me. After the first few nights, I lost all track of time. The only indication of the outside world came from the cycle of sunlight and moonlight through the small window in my room. Sometimes, it felt like only a few days since my first time waking up with amnesia.

I quickly settled into life in the institution as well as to be expected. I found that I retained something like muscle memory for the routines and expectations in the asylum, despite the fact that my memory never returned to me. Wake up at 9:00; ten minutes in the communal bathroom; take morning pills; mandatory check to make sure we took our pills; musical therapy in the music room every day for two hours; hour and forty-five minutes for breakfast; doctor visits and general medicinal assessments; lunch break; three hours of group therapy once every week, free time for six hours; an hour of dinner; take evening pills; mandatory check to make sure we all took our pills; return to our rooms for an hour and a half of free time; lights out; sleep; rinse, repeat.

Mind-numbing, but tolerable, nonetheless.

One morning, a few days before Nightmare Night, while I was eating a breakfast of oatmeal and toast, I was talking to a stallion named Featherhead. Or rather, he was talking to me and I was sort of half-listening to him.

“I’ve always been mad,” he was saying, “I know I’ve been mad, like the most of us are. It’s very hard to explain why you’re mad, even if you’re not mad. These doctors try to explain why we act like we do, but they don’t know why themselves.” He stopped for a moment, and then began again. “I’ve been mad for fucking years, absolutely for years. I’ve been over the edge for ages... Been working with rubber bands for too long, I think. You can pull on one for so long before it snaps, you know? I suppose that’s how to explain it…”

I nodded absentmindedly, tuning out most of what he was saying. He had a habit of rambling on about whatever topic caught his attention to anypony who accidently sat still long enough to listen, even if he had already talked to them about it. He had already told me about the migrating patterns of the cuckoo bird more times than I can count on my hooves.

Luckily for me, just as Featherhead began to explain his mental condition for the fourth time, Dreams walked up. “Hello boys,” she said.

“Hey,” I muttered, glancing at Featherhead with an exasperated look.

The blue stallion noticed Dreams and drew her into our conversation. “You understand, don’t you Miss Dreams? About being mad? Not many of you do, but you do. You’re like one of us.”

Dreams smiled. “Of course I am Featherhead. I’ve been mad for years, just like you, absolutely years.”

Featherhead nodded vigorously, nearly toppling over. “Yeah. Yeah, you know. Mad for years. You know, not many ponies know, but I used to manage a band. A small-time, obscure band, but-“

“Actually Featherhead,” cut in Dreams, “as much as we would love to hear your story, I have to talk to Gray about something.”

Featherhead tilted his head in confusion. “Who’s Gray?” he asked.

Dreams pointed at me. “Pink is Gray. Remember how he has amnesia?”

He shook his head. “Not really… But if you say so, Miss Dreams.” He waved at me. “Bye-bye Pink. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

I smiled. “Of course.” I hesitated for a moment and glanced at my breakfast. I stuffed the rest of my toast in my mouth, stood up from the table and walked off with Dreams.

Outside of the house, the cobblestone streets were blanketed with fresh snow. Trees swayed lazily in a stiff breeze, not quite motionless enough to allow the few flakes of snow drifting down from the clouds to accumulate on the branches.

“So,” I asked, “what did you want to talk about?”

“Oh, nothing…” She giggled. “I just thought you looked like you wanted to get out of there.” She leaned in close. “I know how agonizing Featherhead can be…”

My eyes widened in surprise. “You’re a nurse! You shouldn’t talk about the patients like that.”

She chuckled again and put a hoof around my shoulders. I felt a blush creep into my cheeks. “Are you going to report me, Gray? Can’t you keep a secret?”

I nodded silently. We looked into each other’s eyes and we smiled.

“Good.” she said simply.

And then she kissed my cheek and walked off without a word, leaving me standing numbly in the middle of the hallway.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

“I mean, I don’t know why I can’t have a pet bird here. I’ve shown that I’m responsible. I can take care of an animal. But nnnooooo! Nurse Ratchet said there was a no pet policy. I can’t believe her! I mean—”

“Marm.” I cut into her rant, placing a hoof over her mouth. “It’ll be okay. You’ll get over it in time.”

She shoved my hoof away, tears forming in her eyes. “But it won’t be okay! I just wanted a little birdy friend to hold and take care of and… and… and that bitch of a nurse won’t let me! After everything I do to keep everypony safe here, she told me no because of my unique condition! Doesn’t she know how much I worry about everypony? Doesn’t she know what I go through every time I see somepony doing something stupid?”

“I-I’m sure th-that she does, mmmh-Marm.” said Starshine. “But… I’m s-s-sure she’s busy, what w-with tod-day, and all—they’ve all buh-been busy get-t-tting ready f-for today.

Broom nodded.

“Yeah,” I said, “Hearth’s Warming isn’t exactly a normal day. Just ask Doctor or somepony after the year’s over. I’m sure you’ll get a better response.”

Marm sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just… I just wanted to get one for Hearth’s Warming, you know? Get something that feels special…unique. Not the same present that everypony else gets.”

My ears perked up. “We get presents here?”

Marm looked at me curiously. “Of course we do. The management gets all of us presents every year. Small, cheap things, that couldn’t possibly pose a threat to our health, but presents, nonetheless.” She smiled. “And of course, we also get presents from our parents and relatives and things. Right after dinner, the orderlies put all of our presents into our rooms, so they’re there when we go in for bed. And,” she paused for effect, “sometimes we get surprise visits from family and friends.”

It’s a matter of opinion, you know? If it wasn’t for them, everything would be outta whack, but you can’t help but hate them. They tread a fine line. One step one way and everything topples over like building blocks…

Starshine spoke up. “M-my parents sends me a ca-ard and a heh-ho-h-hoof-knit swea-sw-sweater every y-year. Once, m-Ma and Pa met me in o-one of the visit-visiting rooms. I was so happy. It—it was a great surprise…” He was practically beaming at the memory.

“Do I—” I stopped. “Do my parents ever send me presents?”

Marm pursed her lips and shot a glance at Starshine, who returned the look. “Well…” she began. “Not really. Your parents are… Uhhmmmm… Your parents are…busy. They don’t—they can’t… I… I shouldn’t be, I mean, I don’t know everything… I mean, it’s possible... I don’t know… I…” She paused. “You-you should ask Dreams or Doctor or somepony else. They’ll be to tell you better, I…” She looked ready to burst into tears.

“Whoa, whoa. It’s okay Marm. I-I’ll ask them, alright? Don’t cry.”

“Yuh-yeah, we’re ah-already pretty late for-or break-fast. We’ve been late e-enough tuh-tuh-times already…”

“I’m sorry.” Marm wiped her eyes. “I just—I’m just being silly, aren’t I? No wonder they don’t trust me with a pet…”

“No. Don’t say that Marm. You’re fine. Don’t—” I started to comfort her, but Broom stepped in between me and her.

“Shh…” He stroked her mane. “Hearth’s Warming is a happy time of year. You work so hard, trying to take care of all of us, but you never stop and take care of yourself. You need to let go and relax a bit…”

I blinked. That was definitely the most I had ever heard him say.

Marm took a deep breath. “You’re—you’re right. Thanks Broom. You-you always know what to say. I was having a little lapse there.” Another deep breath. “I’m sorry, everypony.”

“It’s alright.” I said.

“Y-yeah. You don’t ha-ave to apolo-app-apolog-ize. We’re yo-your friends…”

Broom smiled and backed away from her.

“Now, come on.” I said. “We can’t be late for our Hearth’s Warming breakfast. I hear that they ordered some food from an actual restaurant.” I set off down the hallway, leading the way for the rest of my friends.

And somewhere, deep in my mind, was the hope that I would maybe get a present from my parents tonight.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

“What do you think, Gray?”

I looked up from the piano. “Hmm?”

Maestro snorted and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his snout. “I asked if you thought if my violin sounded right or not. Coalcatcher,” he gestured at the pony, “seems to think my violin is out of tune, but I don’t hear it.”

“Oh!” I scratched the side of my face and glanced between the two blue ponies. “I… I’m not sure. I wasn’t exactly listening. Play something again.” I motioned at his instrument.

Maestro rolled his eyes and ran his bow across the violin strings, playing up the scale.

I shrugged. “I think it sounds fine.” Maestro nodded in agreement and Coalcatcher rolled his eyes. I chuckled, “I think Coal might have damaged his hearing with all his drumming.”

How are you feeling today? Sheesh… that doesn’t sound good. Sorry to hear that.

Coalcatcher glowered at me. “I don’t drum that loud. I probably have better hearing than any of you.”

I scoffed. “Coal, if you had your way, you’d put explosives in your drum kit or set it on fire or something and end up burning the whole place down.”

He suddenly looked angry. “Hey, don’t diss fire, dude. It’s a beautiful thing. The way the flames dance and lick at wood and course along walls, and set things ablaze with that roaring, warm glow. It’s one of the most amazing things in nature.” He giggled and smiled. “Fire would eat you alive without a second’s thought. All you would feel is its heat and the wondrous smell of flesh burning and—”

Maestro cleared his throat loudly and shot me a nervous glance. “Okay… alright Coal. That-th-that’s enough now, do-don’t you think? If we stand around too long, we’ll never get our pieces memorized in time for tonight. You wouldn’t want to disappoint the rest of the hospital if our performance isn’t up to snuff, not would you?”

Tick-tock.

Coalcatcher shook his head and looked over at Maestro and me as if he had forgotten we were there. “Heh…” He licked his lips and one of his legs twitched. “Yeah… Yeah, you’re right… I-I better go and do the stuff… Heh...” He paused and scratched at his neck. “Percussion instruments won’t play themselves, right…?”

I smiled reassuringly at him. “That’s right.”

Coalcatcher half-nodded and walked away, his tail swishing from side-to-side as he went, unable to hide the large, raw burns that covered the entire lower half of his body.

Maestro let out a sigh of relief. “Poor chap.” he whispered. “I think he would have made a fine, upstanding stallion, had things not turned out the way they did. Don’t you think so?”

Before I had a chance to say anything, Maestro answered himself. “I do agree. It’s a shame what happened to his family. I’m not sure how he copes with the grief.”

“Indeed.” Maestro replied. “I can only imagine what he feels inside. It must be horrible.”

Maestro turned away from me, muttering something under his breath. He ran a hoof through his hair and looked back at me. “Why am I wearing these glasses? My eyesight is perfect!” He took them off and stared at them as if they were a particularly large spider.

I hesitated. “I-I’m not sure. You’ve always needed your glasses.”

Maestro blinked. “Well of course I’ve always needed my glasses, boy! I’m as blind as a bat without them! Why’d you make me take them off?” He snorted, put his glasses back on and walked off, forgetting his violin behind.

I looked around the music room and at my fellow band members and sighed, resting my head on the piano. It was only a few more hours until the concert.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

That night, Dreams was escorting me back to my room after the band and I put on a Hearth’s Warming performance of a few carols.

The crowd’s cheers still rang clear in my head.

Despite all odds, most everything went alright and we managed to get through the songs without incident. For my first performance for the rest of the hospital since the amnesia, everypony liked it. I even had a solo piece, which got a standing ovation of sorts from the crowd.

It was satisfying to know that a room mostly full of mentally ill ponies thought my music was good.

As we walked back to my room, the patients allowed to walk around freely congratulated me on the performance. Even a few of the nurses and doctors told me that they glad to see my old self back on stage.

Dreams nudged me. “You did wonderful tonight Gray,” she reminded me for the fifth time that night.

I overdramatically rolled my eyes and scoffed, grinning all the while.

She playfully swatted my flank with her tail. “Don’t be like that!” she chided. “I mean it. You were really good.” She paused. “It was beautiful…”

I looked at her and felt my face heat up. “Thank you.” My heart fluttered in my chest.

You can have them in any color you like, so long as that color is black. Stop making such a fuss about it, yeah? Now, do you want one or not?

“Gray?”

“Hmm?” I shot a glance at Dreams.

“We’re here.”

“Oh… right. I was thinking about things…”

Dreams stifled a small giggle and pushed open the door. “You think about things a lot Gray. You should try and be more observant sometimes.”

We walked in and my eyes were immediately drawn to the small potted plant in the corner. Sometime during the afternoon, an orderly had decorated it, in the loosest sense of the word; three ornaments hung off of the plant’s branches and the plant was sloppily wrapped with a ribbon that looked as if it had been used for ten years.

At the base of the plant, there was only one present wrapped in brown construction paper. The present from the institution.

My parents didn’t send me anything. Despite Marm’s explanation that I rarely got presents from them, a large part of me was hoping that maybe things would have been different this time. Maybe they would send me something; maybe my parents would acknowledge me. In the whole months since the amnesia, my parents never once contacted me.

I felt my stomach drop and I stared at the plant for a minute, clinging to the hope that maybe my parent’s present would magically appear there.

Dreams must have noticed my reaction and pulled me in for a hug. “Hey, don’t be sad. Most ponies only ever get one present because their relatives choose to ignore them. Your mother and father love you, though. They love you a lot. They’re just busy.” She chuckled. “And besides, there’s not a whole lot they could send you that wouldn’t be viewed as dangerous when they screen incoming packages.”

I fell down into the bed and stared at the ever watchful foals on the ceiling. “Who are my parents Dreams? What do they do?”

“Well.” She sat down beside me. “I’ve never personally met them, but I know they work for the government, so they rarely ever have free time. I can’t remember their names off the top of my head, but I do know they love you.”

“But not enough to acknowledge my existence?”

The photo album was lying open on the table, its pages flipped open halfway. There were two pictures, one on each page. The first was of a stallion, a mare and a small colt as smiling at the camera. The second was only of the mare and the colt, both visibly older and exhausted. There were no other pictures after that.

“Well… I can’t… I can’t speak for them. That’s something you’d have to ask them. You could write a letter to them, if you want. I don’t know when we’d get a response, but—”

I sat up and looked Dreams in the eyes. “Can I meet them?” I asked.

She looked confused for a moment. “You mean… Have them come here and… and… meet you?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Why? Is that not allowed or something…?”

“No, no. It’s fine.” she said quickly, glancing down at the floor. “I-I’ll talk to Doctor about it, okay? See if he can’t arrange you a meeting.”

“Thanks.”

There was silence for a moment. There wasn’t much to be said.

“So Gray…” Dreams spoke up. “Gray, I uhh… I did get you a present.” Her horn lit up and a small letter floated out of one of the pockets in her wrinkled uniform. “Well, it’s more of a card than a present, but…”

I took the card from her magical grip and set on the bed between us. “It’s fine.” I smiled. “It’s perfect, actually… I didn’t get you anything though.”

Dreams placed a hoof on my leg. “It’s alright. You didn’t have to.”

The room was silent again.

“Gray, I—”

“Dreams, I—”

We both stopped. My stomach felt…knotted.

“You go first.” I said.

“No you.”

“No, I’d rather hear what you were going to say first.”

She nodded and bit her lip, but didn’t say anything right away. “Gray, I…” Her voice wavered and she looked at my face. She took a deep breath and lunged forward, her lips connecting with mine.

My eyes flew open in surprise for a moment, but then closed as I returned the kiss with an equal ferocity. I wrapped a hoof around her neck, pulling her closer to me and ran my other hoof through her mane.

We broke apart moments later, both of us panting slightly. Dreams wiped the corner of her snout and smiled. “Now… What was it that you wanted to tell me?”

I smiled. “I was going to say the same thing.”

Her beautiful blue eyes sparkled. “Oh Gray!” She moved forward again, wrapping me in a full hug, pecking kisses along the side of my head all the while. As we reveled in each other’s presence, I felt a wave of déjà vu pass through my mind. For something so very new, it seemed so very familiar. Everything about the moment had felt so… familiar.

One of these days…

We probably would have stayed like that for the rest of the night had a thought not pushed itself to the forefront of my mind. I gently pushed Dreams off of me and ignored her protests. “Isn’t there something that forbids nurses and patients from getting together? I mean, isn’t it illegal or something? Should we be doing this?”

Dreams’ smile fell. She looked confused for a moment and gazed at the wall behind me.

I blinked.

She looked back at me, her eyes watering. “G-Gray… I can’t…” She gulped. “Th-things will be fine. They won’t c-care...” She sat up suddenly and growled in frustration. “…too complicated… I can’t…” She glanced back at me. “Everything will be fine. Trust me, okay?” She smiled, her jaw visibly clenched.

I nodded.

Go on and ask Dreams why the other nurses don’t trust ‘er! Ha! Ask ‘er what happened six years ago! Ask ‘er why she lied to you!

I smiled back at her and pulled her back down to the bed. She sighed and nuzzled into my chest, her hooves wrapped around my back. I stroked her mane, feeling the surprising number of knots, and breathed in her scent, merely content to be near her.

I closed my eyes and leaned back into my pillow. “I can keep a secret, Dreams.” I murmured.

I only received a soft whimper as an answer.

There was a loud click as the lights shut off for the night and the room was plunged into darkness. A sliver of moonlight cut through the darkness an illuminated Dreams’ smiling face.

And, for the first time, I held her body next to mine as we drifted off to sleep for the night.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

One night, I managed to work up the nerve to read a bit of my old journal.

The journal had sat in the corner of my desk, ignored for the months since that first night. I always told myself there was never any time to read, but I knew that was just an excuse.

It scared me.

There was something about that little black book that terrified me to no end. I could never place what it was, but it prevented me from ever looking at the journal.

Fear of discovery, Doctor called it. For all my eagerness to remember my past, the easiest route was the most apprehensive and terrifying to take. It was just a simple look, but what if that look turned out to be bad? What if I regretted it?

Dreams kept wanting me to read it, kept telling me that it was the solution to everything.

Despite our newfound relationship, I could never do what she asked. I could never read my journal.

So it sat and I sat with it, unable to muster up the courage to even look in its direction.

But one night, I found myself staring at the book, unable to take my eyes off it. I watched it for well over an hour, wondering what was within its covers. I had often wondered that.

It was almost calling me. For the briefest moments, I thought as if I could hear whispers, telling me to read the book, but when I concentrated on them, they always disappeared.

After a few moments, I finally decided to do it. Steeling my nerves, I raced over to the desk and snatched the journal from it. I returned to the bed and laid down on it.

I took a deep breath and flipped open to a random page:

fair’ isn’t’fair it isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t fair I t isn’t fair it is n’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isnl’t fair it I’sn’t fair it I’sn ’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t can’t be fair it isn’t fair itititititiit isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t l fair it isn’t fa ir it isn’t fuck fair iT isn’t fair I t isn’’’’’t’t f ailr it isn’t Fairir it isn’t fair it issdn ’t fair it isn’’t fair it isn’t fair lit isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t f air it isn’t fair ilt isn’t fair it isn fair it isn’tl fair it isn’t fair it isn’t fair’ it isn’t fair it

’t isn’ t fair itttttttttttttptttttttt isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t is It fair it isln’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’dt fair it igsn’t ffairair it isn’t lair it isn’t fair it isn’t fFFair it isn’t

not

‘f r it isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t f’tair it isn’t fair it isn’t fair it I sn’t fai’r not fair lnot fair not fair not fair fair fair fuck them fu l ck them fuck them fuck fuckfuckfuckthem fuck them fuckl them fuck them fu ck t he lll fuck them ck them fu’ck th e m fuc k them fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuc’k fuck fuck fuck fuc’k fufuckck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckkfuc kfuckufkufklufklfuckfusf kFUCKsdfasdffffff’fff fffffffffffffffffffffffffftyddfffffffffffffffff’f’fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff Ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff’ffffffffffffffff

ffmmakemkamk’emkaemkamm’mmm make it stop

sStop’

make it stopma’ke it stopsto’stiopsaf make it stop hello hi helllo

so much noise so much yelling

NOISES

I stopped reading.

I couldn’t bear to look at the book any further.

I cried.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

There was laughter in the air, something that would be expected in a public park. A mare and a stallion sat on a blanket, sharing a light lunch that one of them had brought in a basket. The mare laughed and threw back her head, her mane fluttering in a slight breeze. The stallion smiled and took another bite of his sandwich.

“So,” began Doctor Jekyll as he glanced at his clipboard, “last meeting, we were just beginning to talk about Starshine and his little brother. He was going to tell us a story. Would you care to continue with your story, Starshine?”

Starshine fidgeted in his seat. “W-wells, I, umm… I suppose I can.” He paused. “It was—it w-was t-t-t-t-two years before I-I-I… a-at Fletcher’s. M-me a-an-and him were fly-fl-flying—I w-was teach-teach—I was t-teach-ing him t-to fly...” He rubbed his ear and muttered under his breath, looking down at the floor for a moment.

He licked his lips. “M-me and we-were learning—I was te-teaching h-him tuh-to fly. M-m-mother tuh-tuh-told me to be-be-be c-careful, an-and I was.” His eyes looked at something distant. “I-I-I was t-tellin-guh him to-o—about—up-updrafts and h-how to-to c-compe-comen-compensate f-or them, wh-when… We, uhh, w-we lived n-near the whea-wuh-Weather fact-Factory, you see, and we were pract-practicing on a cl-cloud near wh-where they keep th-the thun-thunder—keep the thunderheads f-for-or the st-sto-st-storms…” He took a deep breath and ran a hoof over his right foreleg, feeling the long scars where flesh had once met knife.

Doctor Jekyll smiled. “If the memory troubles you too much, Starshine, you don’t have to share it. I’ll understand.”

Starshine jerkily shook his head. “No. N-no. I-I-I w-wanna. I’ve k-kept it in suh-so-o long, that it-it’s bursting-bursting out, and I h-have to—I have-have to…” He looked up briefly and caught my eyes. I smiled at him and he smiled back.

I could tell Marmalade wanted to hug him, to comfort him, but she knew that he wouldn’t let her. She settled for a smile. “It’s alright Star, we’re here for you.”

Starshine gulped and nodded. “I-it w-was an acci-ack-a-acciden-accident. The-the st-storm cl-c-clouds went off, an-and he w-was cau-caught in them—h-he was c-caught i-in the expl-explosion... I wat-watch-ed a-as his blac-bla—burned—bo-body plum-plummet-plu-plummeted to th-the ground bu-but I-I couldn’t move… I-I-I-I w-w-was too sc-s-s-sc-s-scared… I…” He held his head in his hooves. “I-i-it was all m-my fault th-that he d-died… M-m-mother w-was fu-furi-f-furious a-at me…”

Starshine trailed off into silence, nervously wringing his hooves.

“That’s good, Starshine. That’s a very good start.” Doctor Jekyll gave an encouraging smile and looked around the room. “Do any of you want to share your thoughts on Starshine’s story so far?”

After a moment’s silence, Gerald raised his hand. Doctor Jekyll nodded at him to speak.

Gerald scoffed. “Puh! Can’t you see that this is jus’ anotha of their mind games Star? I’ll bet that none of that ever even ‘appened! They’re just makin’ up the memories, makin’ you think you’re crazy!” He clapped his hands together loudly. “An’ before you know it, they’ll throw you in the shock chair and you’ll be a flippin’ vegetable, like Fireheart.”

“Now Gerald,” admonished Doctor Jekyll, “don’t scare Starshine like that. You know that isn’t true. If you keep spouting nonsense like that and insist on living in your fantasy world, we’ll have to increase your dosage even more. I know you wouldn’t want that.”

Gerald idly played with his talons and glowered at the doctor. “You ain’t gettin’ nowhere near me with anymore of your medicine, doc. I’ll be damned if you fuckers mess with my head anymore.” He leaned forward, his eyes sweeping over each of us. “I wasn’t crazy when I first got ‘ere. You bastards kidnapped me and fucked with my mind, just because you could. I may ‘ave believed it in the beginnin’, but I’ve wised up to your games. The only problem is that you’ve got these… these sheep,” he gestured to all of us, “blindly followin’ you to their deaths. You’re all corrupt.”

Doctor Jekyll sighed. “Gerald, we’ve had this conversation a hundred times. We did not kidnap you. You were admitted eight years ago after you brutally attacked a nice old stallion and set fire to an orphanage.”

“Those brats had it comin’! The gover’ment was usin’ them to spy on me! What else was I supposed to do?!”

“Gerald, you’re distracting us from Starshine’s story. Perhaps you’d like to calm down. You’re getting worked up again.”

“NO!” Gerald stood up, his glasses swaying precariously on his beak, “YOU CALM DOWN! I DON’T WANNA HEAR NO MORE OF YOUR LIES! YOU FUCKIN’ BASTARDS ‘AVE MADE MY LIFE MISERABLE!”

The room went quiet.

Silence.

I sang softly under my breath, desperate to have some sort of noise.

Gerald turned his venomous glare towards me. “An’ what you think you’re doin’?! Huh? Stop makin’ that fuckin’ noise! Can’t you ever just stay quiet for once?!”

I stopped.

“Now, Gerald,” rasped Doctor Jekyll, “don’t you think you should sit down? You’re scaring the others.” He gestured to Starshine, who was quivering and muttering under his breath.

Gerald clicked his beak in annoyance and crossed his arms. “An’ what if I don’t?”

Marm spoke up, her voice barely a whisper. “You know what’ll happen to you if you don’t calm down Gerald.”

Gerald cupped a claw to his ear. “What was that, lassie? Didn’t quite hear you.”

Marm gulped. “You—you know what’ll happen to you if you d-don’t calm down. They’ll lock you up again.”

Gerald paused for a moment and nodded his head, as if he was seriously considering the notion. But then he puffed out his chest and shrieked at the room, his wings flaring out. “SO WHAT IF THEY LOCK ME UP AGAIN!? I DON’T CARE! MY LIFE IS RUINED ANYWAYS!” He paused, breathing deeply. “These bastards have taken everythin’ from me but my own life, an’ even that’s forfeit too…”

The door creaked open and the unicorn orderly from the hallway stepped halfway in. “Is everything alright in here, Doctor?”

“Just peachy.” Gerald hissed. “I'm only going to die in here, at the hooves of you ponies.”

Doctor Jekyll snorted in irritation. “Gerald, we are not going to hurt you. You are only hurting yourself.”

“Bullshit!” Gerald roared. “I see you ponies come in to my room every night an’ poke and prod me with all sorts of things, experimentin’ on me! They think I’m asleep, but I’m awake through all of it. I feel all of it, and it hurts so much… It hurts so much…” he trailed off, staring at the wall in front of him. Doctor Jekyll motioned for the orderly at the door to stand by.

Gerald flapped his wings angrily and picked up from where he left off. “It hurts so much, so don’t so fuckin’ go tellin’ me that you bastards ain’t ‘ere to hurt me, because I ain’t buyin’ in to none of your lies!” He stood up and pointed a sharp talon in Doctor Jekyll’s face. “YOU GOT THAT, BUB?! I AIN’T TAKIN’ NO MORE OF YOUR SHIT!”

With his other hand, Gerald gripped Doctor Jekyll’s hoof and dug his talons into his skin. Doctor Jekyll yelped in pain and his horn flared to life, trying to push the griffon off him, to no avail.

Gerald racked his other hand across Doctor Jekyll’s face, grinning madly all the while. Blood splattered the floor. He bent down and whispered into the doctor’s ear. “I’m gonna make you feel the pain that I feel, alright Doc?” How’s that for sharin’ my feelings?”

But the orderly sprang into action and yanked Gerald off of the doctor. The griffon and orderly struggled for a moment, Gerald’s wings throwing the unicorn off balance. The orderly’s horn flared to life, forcing Gerald’s arms to his side and pinned him to the ground, immobilizing his wings.

Doctor Jekyll clutched at his bleeding wounds and staggered to his hooves. Dreams and Marm leaped to his side, steadying him. He stumbled over to Gerald and looked at him, pity evident on his face.

Gerald squawked in anger and tried to force the large orderly off of him, but couldn’t find the strength. He gave up, letting the stallion bind his hands and wings, and glared at Doctor Jekyll as he passed by. “Why?” he whispered. Doctor Jekyll stopped and glanced back at the griffon. Gerald scrunched his eyes closed and stifled a sob. “Why is this happening…? Why can’t I just be normal…?”

Doctor Jekyll nodded slightly and turned away, heading for the infirmary with Marm and Dreams in tow. Two other orderlies rushed into the room after them.

I leaned back in my cushion and whistled. “Wow…” I glanced at Starshine and Broom, both of who looked just as shaken as I felt.

“Well shit.” murmured Broom.

Starshine nodded. “Ap-aptly put.”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

There was an earsplitting scream from just outside my door.

My eyes snapped open. The pegasi foals on my ceiling were staring back at me. Oh, how I hated that painting.

I sighed and closed my eyes again, pressing my hooves to my ears to block out the scream and hoped that I could manage to return to my nap that was so rudely interrupted.

But after several moments of tossing and turning, I couldn’t find sleep again.

With a defeated groan, I yawned and sat up, slipping the covers off me. Out of habit, my eyes immediately drifted to the clock on the wall.

Four o’clock. Just enough time to go down to the Rec Room and see if anything was going on before dinner.

I slid out of bed and stretched, my joints popping. I ran a hoof through my hair, arranging it as best as I could without a mirror. My eyes wandered over my coat, making sure every gray hair was in place and perfect. I smoothed down a few unruly strands and opened my door.

A few of the nurses in the hall smiled at me as I walked down the ever bland, white walls of Fletcher’s Memorial, making sure I was going somewhere approved. Some of the more stable and responsible patients had some limited freedoms, like be able to walk between their room and the Rec Room during free time.

I strolled down the halls, silently praying that I wouldn’t get lost again and waved at Featherhead as I passed him. He grinned like an idiot and was scolded by the nurse that was talking to him.

A few minutes later, I rounded a corner and came upon a completely hallway. While not out of the question, it was certainly slightly disconcerting to see an entirely silent, empty hallway in the asylum.

Of course, it didn’t stay silent for long. I was about halfway down the hall, when a group of five orderlies pushing a cart with a pink stallion strapped to it rushed around the corner in front of me.

As they neared me, the pink stallion noticed me and immediately began to struggle against the leather straps that bound him to the gurney. “Help!” he shouted. “Please, help me!”

I stopped. It was the same voice as the stallion Dreams and I had heard on my second day, screaming from behind a door.

But, as he passed by, I didn’t move to answer his call for help. Hearing ponies scream for help was just part of a normal day at a mental asylum. Besides, what could I do against five large stallions?

I watched in curiosity, but inconspicuously, as the pink stallion and the orderlies stopped just a little behind me, by a door that I would assume to be the same one from before. The stallions left the gurney unattended for a moment as they fumbled with the lock to the door.

Seizing the moment, the stallion thrashed in his bonds and craned his neck to look at me. His gray eyes met my pink ones. “You! Yes, you! You can help me! Get me out of here! You’ve got to help! You’ve got to! I can’t think straight in here! I’m-I’m-I’m so scared… Please help! Help me! Help me! Help me! Help me!”

The pink stallion screamed and his back arched as his entire body tensed. “Oh, so many voices! So many! Why can’t they stop talking!? Why can’t they make them stop?” He locked eyes with me. “You have to help—mmhpff!”

One of the orderlies muzzled the stallion’s mouth, silencing him. The stallion’s eyes went wide and he thrashed some more, desperately trying to escape his bonds, but could not. All that could be heard was his muffled cries for help.

The door was yanked open with a crash and the orderlies surrounded the stallion, covering his pink body in a sea of light-blue. Through the orderlies, I could still see his gray eyes, wide with terror and panic.

And then, just like that, the door slammed shut and the pink stallion was locked in his room. The five orderlies dispersed, without so much as a murmur or a glance in my direction. The hallway was quiet again and I was alone.

Rain poured from the heavens, drowning the roads and alleyways. It had been raining nonstop for four days, and many ponies hadn’t left their homes since, preferring the warm and dry over the cold and wet. A streak of lightning shot down from the sky, accompanied by a near-instantaneous burst of thunder. The lightning struck the roof a building, setting it ablaze for a few seconds before the torrential downpour snuffed it out.

I approached the door, casting a wary glance in all directions to make sure nopony saw me. I tapped on the door, jumping slightly as the metal made a much louder noise than I had anticipated. “Hello?” I whispered. “A-are you alright…?”

Stifled cries and a loud bang were my answers.

I backed away from the door and continued to the Rec Room, and tried to put the incident from my mind.

There was nothing I could do.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

There were whispers around the institution.

Rumors.

Gossip.

There was a new pony. The first one to be admitted to Fletcher Memorial Psychiatric Institution in a year and a half.

You could hear them talking anywhere you went, buzzing like flies, talking, chatting about the new patient.

Nopony knew for sure, of course. One of the more eccentric patients, Door, who was affectionally called “The Lizard King” because of his affection for the reptiles, told Shining Diamond, an older, psychotic stallion who lived across from me, that he had seen a few guards dragging a stallion he had never seen before into Doctor’s office.

Soon after that, despite Door’s and Diamond’s less-than-trustworthy reputations, word quickly spread around the hospital that there was a new patient being processed. The doctors and nurses neither refused nor confirmed the reports, but assured us that if there was a new patient, he would be announced to the rest of the hospital later that night, like always.

Many of the ponies took that as a sign that somepony new had been hospitalized and acted accordingly.

Door, a normally loud, boisterous, angry and unseemly stallion that many chose to ignore because of his violent outbursts, was suddenly swarmed with ever able-bodied patient wanting to know what the new patient looked like.

Door’s answers and stories grew more outlandish by the hour, and by the time dinner rolled around, he was explaining how the new patient was a mountain of a stallion who fought off ten royal guards and nearly took down a wall. The crowd Door had accumulated gasped in all the right spots, none of them really giving thought to the fact his story was wildly different several hours ago.

I was slightly put off by the wonderment most of the institution showed at the prospect of one new pony. Did one stallion really warrant that much attention? Most of these ponies acted like foals on Hearth’s Warming Day and Nightmare Night combined.

I shared my concerns with Marmalade, who, at the time, was trying to calm everypony down because she didn’t believe the management was doing enough to dissuade the rumors.

She explained to me, in a slightly exasperated voice, that many of the ponies have been living in Fletcher’s Memorial for years. The longest a pony was committed here, she thought, was forty-seven years, and even a time shorter than that could have any pony starved for a new voice to talk to.

When you’re cooped up in the same building for years with the same three hundred or so ponies, nurses, doctors and orderlies, any new pony is something to talk about.

For the rest of the patients, the day passed by in a blur of excitement and fervor that I didn’t share. My day trudged by slowly and excruciatingly uneventfully. I suppose, as I was technically the newest pony in the hospital, from my amnesiac perspective at least, that I was not as excited about meeting another insane pony who could not fit in with society.

Eventually, dinnertime came and went, and we were all called into our seldom-used auditorium for a special announcement. To say nopony was particularly eager would be an understatement.

After a half an hour of the nurses getting us all into our seats and calming us down, the lights dimmed. Doctor Doctor trotted out on stage, a forced grin on his face. “Well,” he said, “as I’m sure most of you are aware by now, we do indeed have a new patient with us.” A loud cheer. “Yes, well, now, if you should see him around the next few days, it would behoove you to show the upmost respect for him, as we do with every new patient.”

“What’s his name, Doc?” shouted a mare somewhere in the crowd.

Doctor nodded. “His name is Smile, and I’m sure quite a few of you will recognize him. He is quite the celebrity. But, he is just a normal pony, and he is here to be healed, just like the rest of you. Please don’t swarm him, if you see him.” He paused. “If any of the nurses see you fawning over him too much, you will be reprimanded. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Doctor Doctor.” intoned all of us, agreeing to his request.

Doctor smiled. “Good. Now,” he glanced offstage, “Smile, would you like to come out and say hello?”

There was a faint, mumbling conversation in the wings of the stage and then nothing happened. Doctor smiled and beckoned for Smile to join him.

A pair of eyes peeked around the curtains, followed by the rest of a pony. A light-blue, overweight unicorn stumbled onto stage and stared out into the crowd.

The patients broke out into a quiet mumble. After a moment, Doctor cleared his throat. “Now, why don’t you say hello, Smile?”

Smile visibly trembled and pursed his lips together but didn’t say anything. He looked up at Doctor and shook his head.

Doctor nodded and looked back at us. “You all can go to bed. I’m sure the lot of you are tired. Listen to your nurses and make your way back to your rooms. I’ll be seeing you all around.”

The assembled patients mumbled amongst themselves. Starshine leaned over and whispered in my ear, “It-it’s exciting, isn’t it-tuh? The na-ame smuh-Smile seems to r-r-ring a few bells, doesn’t it? Was-wasn’t he a mu-mmhm-musci-musician or-or some-some-s-something? M-maybe he’ll j-j-j-join th-the band-d!”

I chuckled. “I don’t really know who he is. I can’t remember.”

Starshine’s eyes shot open. “Ooo-ohh-hoho right. S-suh-sssorry, Gray…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m used to not remembering anything by now. It’s fine.”

“N-no it’s not. I’m your b-b-best f-friend. I shouldn’t-t… I shhhh-shouldn’t… I should—shouldn’t, s-sh-shouldn’t…” His ears flattened against his head.

I tried to place a comforting hoof on his shoulder, but he moved away, whimpering. I withdrew my hoof and smiled. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry.”

“Me? I never worry.” He tried to laugh, but ended up coughing like he was choking on his own tongue.

I nodded solemnly. “I know, Star.” I glanced back up at the stage. “I know.”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

The next day, Smile quietly slinked into the music room. Nopony noticed him at first; we were all too busy caught up in our own music to hear the near-silent click of the door and the new stallion’s timid hoofsteps on the floor.

Broom was the first to realize he was there. He was next to me, watching in amusement as I tried to play some sort of music on the trombone and failed miserably. I was never too good with any brass instrument; never had the lungs for it.

Broom nudged me and pointed in the direction of the door. I followed his hoof over and finally saw the small, terrified pale blue stallion. He looked as if he was trying to melt into the floor.

I set the trombone down on a table and walked over to him. “Hey,” I said. “Aren’t you Smile?” The nod of his head was barely noticeable. I chuckled. “Welcome to the music department, Smile. My name is Gray.” I held out a hoof, but Smile shrank back, as if I was going to hurt him.

I set my hoof back down. “Hey, hey. It’s fine. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He slowly stood up and bit his lip, as if he was deciding to say something or not. His eyes scanned the room and the ponies in it, as if he was evaluating them.

He opened his mouth. “Do-do y-you not know who I am?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I heard some ponies talk, but I never really listened. I, uhh… I have amnesia. Can’t remember anything before the day I woke up ten and a half months ago.” I grimaced. “Who were you, on the outside, I mean?”

He flinched at my words. “I…” He took a deep breath. “I was in a b-band. I-I was the lead singer… T-The Beach Colts. I… I… Uhh…”

“And one of the doctors suggested that you should look into joining the band, right?”

Smile nodded. “He-he said that musical therapy might help me, or, or, or something. I don’t know. I was just dropped off here by a nurse…”

“Well, how about I introduce you to the rest of the band, alright? That sound good?”

He whimpered. “I-I guess so…”

I motioned for him to walk forward. “Great! I just know you’ll love it here.”

“Wait.” He was looking at my flanks. “Your-your cutie mark… it’s… It’s…” He trailed off, confusion painfully evident on his face.

I inched forward. “What about it? Y-you can see it?”

He nodded. “Of course I can see it… But it’s…”

“What? What?”

He blinked and looked away. “N-nothing. I… I was just confused…” His eyes didn’t meet mine. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Sorry…”

I sighed and forced a smile onto my face. “It’s fine. Now let’s go introduce you.”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

“Thank you for joining me this afternoon Gray. I understand you were in the middle of something.” Doctor greeted me as I walked into his office. He was seated behind his desk and gestured to a chair opposite him.

I sat down. “It wasn’t any trouble. I was playing some poker with Broom and a few others. We can pick it up later.”

Doctor smiled. “Ah, good. How is Broom doing, by the way? I haven’t had seen much of him since Hearth’s Warming. He avoids me as much as possible. He’s paranoid, you know.”

I shrugged. “He’s doing fine. Same as ever, I guess.”

Doctor glanced down at some papers on his desk. “Good, good… I’m glad. He’s so quiet. It’s hard to help him when he doesn’t say anything.”

“Mhmm…” I absentmindedly scuffed my hoof on the floor.

Doctor looked back at me and straightened the cuff of his sleeve. “And how are you doing Gray? Nothing new in the memory department, or…?”

There was a crack in the northeast corner of the ceiling that ran all the way to the middle of the room and underneath the light fixture. Paint flaked around its borders, revealing the ugly drywall underneath and even the rafters beyond that.

“No. There’s been nothing.” I sighed and leaned back. “I wish I could remember, Doc, but nothing has changed since I woke up the first time. My first memories are of those pegasi foals on my ceiling.”

Doctor nodded and jotted something down. He flipped a page over and wrote on the back. “Speaking of which, I think that next month will be a year since you woke up with amnesia. Time sure flies, doesn’t it?”

“I just wish I could remember something. It’s been almost a year and I still have to have things explained to me. It’s depressing…”

Doctor stood up. “Well, your past is part of the reason I called you in here today, Gray.” He stood up and trotted by me, motioning for me to follow, which I did. “Now, two months ago, Dreams came and told me that you wished to see your parents? You remember something like that?”

A grin forced itself onto my face and I nodded vigorously. Ever since Hearth’s Warming, and my parent’s lack of a present or any acknowledgement of my existence since then, I felt certain that maybe meeting them would jumpstart my memories. They were the strongest bond I had to my past, and if they didn’t trigger something, I wasn’t sure what would.

“Well,” continued Doctor, “I contacted them shortly after that, and I got a reply just a few weeks ago. They were eager to see you, but couldn’t get time off for some time.” He placed a hoof on my back. “That day is today, Gray. You’ll get to re-meet your parents today.”

“Yes!” I shouted, hugging Doctor. “Oh thank you, Doc. I can’t believe you did it! Haha!”

Doctor smiled, ruffled my mane and pushed me off of him. “Now, I know you’re excited, Gray, but you have to control yourself. Your parents haven’t seen you in a long, long time and we don’t want them scared off, do we?

I took a deep breath and relaxed. Doctor was right. This would be the first time I would meet my parents since the amnesia and, by the sound of it, the first time they had seen me in years. I had to make a good impression on them, so they could see how sane I was. I was their son. I had a family. I couldn’t mess this up, I just couldn’t.

Doctor strode back over to his desk. “Now, they’ll be up in a few minutes, so let’s both relax in the meantime, and we’ll go over a few things, alrighty?” His horn flared with magic and the record player in the corner crackled to life.

“…We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where, don’t know when,
But I know we’ll meet again, some sunny day.

Keep smiling through,
Just the way you used to do,
‘Till the blue skies chase those dark clouds far away…”

“Now, Gray,” Doctor said as I trod back over to his desk, “I’ve already explained your memory loss and your… errr… penchant for being called Gray, to your parents, so that shouldn’t be a problem. Now, I’ve asked them to come in one at a time, as to not overwhelm you, in the event begin to remember something. Your mother should be the first in, followed shortly by your father… I think that—”

There was a knock at the door.

“Ah. That must be them.” Doctor clutched my hoof supportively and turned towards the door. “Come in!” he called.

For a moment, there was silence. I stared at the door with bated breath, still finding it hard to grasp that I was about to meet my parents.

The door handle rattled and clicked. The door swung open agonizingly slowly.

A nervous-looking blue mare stepped into the room. Her eyes swept around the room before finally landing on me.

She smiled.

I took a hesitant step forward. “M-mom…?”

She nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line as tears began to gather up in the corner of her eyes. “G-Gray? You—you look so grownup! I-I-I…”

I rushed forward, but stopped just in front of her. I looked at the mare, not a single flicker of recognition cropping up in my mind. “Is-is it really you, Mom? Are you really—”

“Yes, son.” she interrupted. “Yes, it’s me.” She held out her forehooves, inviting me into her embrace. ”Oh, come here… Come here…”

I took her invitation and collapsed into her hug. I wasn’t sure when I began crying, but I was bawling in her arms like a little filly... “Oh mmhm-Mo-om. Mom, I-I duh-don’t re-remember y-you! I-I…”

“Shh…” she said through her own tears. “Sshhhh. It’s alright, Pi—Gray. Everything’s al-alright. I’m here. I’m here. Shh…. Ss-sshh… It’s alright. I love you Gray. I love you.”

“I… I l-love you too, Mom… I… I can’t r-remember. I can’t—”

She pushed me out of her arms and looked at me, as if trying to memorize every feature on my face. “Oh son, it’s been too long. It’s been so long… You’ve grown up so much…”

I couldn’t help but smile. My mother was right in front of me. It was… so comforting. It hardly even mattered that I couldn’t remember her. With a shaky hoof, I dried my eyes. “Mom, c-can you t-tell me something…?”

“What?” she whispered.

Overhead, an albatross hung motionless above the clouds. Waves crashed against the rocky shore, spraying a cool mist into the air that did little to alleviate the scorching heat. The albatross flapped its wings and settled down on a nearby tree branch and looked out over the ocean.

“What?” she asked again, her eyes filled with worry.

“I-I-I-I…” I shook my head. “C-can you tell me a story fr-from my foalhood? Anything that might… jog my memory?”

Her expression softened and she glanced behind me for a second. “Of course, Gray, of course… Let me just…” She paused, lost in thought. “Ah!” Another smile spread across her face. “When you were just a foal, no more than two years old, your father and I took you to a zoo. Oh, you were so happy, looking at all the animals, but you especially liked the tigers. You stood there for well over two hours, just watching them.

“But then… but then, the tigers broke free. Some employee didn’t lock the gates right, and the tigers stormed the zoo. Everypony ran scared, but you wanted to see the tigers up close and wandered away from us. You approached one and you and a 700-pound tiger stood face to face. It lunged at you in the blink of an eye, and if-if it wasn’t for your father’s quick thinking, you would’ve died in that tiger’s stomach…”

Before I could respond, Doctor coughed from somewhere behind us. “Yes, now, well, I think that now would be a good time to let your father in. He’s been waiting out in the foyer for several minutes now and I think he’d like to come in and see his son, don’t you, Gray?”

I nodded and Doctor’s horn shone and the door swung open, revealing the shadowy form of my dad. “You can come in now.” Doctor said.

The stallion stepped into the room, but my mom was blocking my view of the door.

My dad cleared his throat and spoke up. “…Hello son.” Almost immediately, I felt as if something was off about his voice, almost as if he had to force it out of his mouth.

I peered around my mom to see a stallion of a similar coat color staring at me, a smile unnaturally stretched across his muzzle.

“Dad…?” I blinked.

He smiled harder, wider. “It’s me, son. Aren’t you happy to see your dad?”

I looked at him. “You-you’re my dad?”

He took a step forward. “Of course I am, Pink.”

I breathed out and the room pulsated. “No… no... You’re not—you’re not my dad! He-he... he’s not… you’re not.” My eyes darted to the portrait of Fletcher hanging on the wall and back to the stallion. “You can’t be my dad!”

The stallion almost looked genuinely saddened. “I am. It’s-It’s me, your father…” He took another step forward, his smile growing even wider.

My legs felt leaden and stiff.

“NO!” I scrambled backwards, away from him, away from my mom. My vision flashed white. “Stay back! Don’t come near me!”

My mom looked worried. She approached me, her voice low. “Gray, what are you doing? It’s your father. He loves you very much. We love you—”

“No!” I snarled. “No, he’s not my dad! He can’t be! He can’t!”

“Son…” The stallion took another step forward. I watched on in horror as his eyes began to roll back into his head and his ever-growing smile grew too big for his face and split his skin, revealing the white skull underneath. “Don’t be like this…” He took another step forward and blood poured from his mouth.

My skin felt as if it was on fire.

“STAY BACK!” I backpedaled into Doctor’s desk, nearly toppling it over. “I don’t want you! YOU’RE NOT MY DAD! YOU CAN’T BE!”

My mom hurried over to me, reaching out to me. But she began to change too. Her limbs stretched and her joints snapped and separated, all her bones rolling loose in her skin. “Gray… Why can’t he be your father? He is. He is… He’s my husband and your father.” She reached out with her hoof, her foreleg bent at an unnatural angle.

Darkness began to cloud the edges of my vision.

I swatted at her hoof, if I could call it that anymore, feeling the skin collapse under my touch and growled at her. “YOU STAY AWAY TOO! YOU’RE WITH HIM! YOU’RE WITH HIM!” The creature drew back her hoof and tried to take a step forward, but collapsed to the floor. Her head twisted completely around and glared at me.

I screamed and scrambled away, but never seemed to get any further.

Doctor appeared in front of my eyes, but it wasn’t Doctor. He shot up, tripling in size, until he was looming over me. His back, now covered in sharp spines, scrapped against the ceiling and he regarded me with pupil-less eyes. A long tongue flicked out of his mouth, winding its way around my body. “Gray,” his booming voice reverberated around the room. “Gray, if you don’t calm down, I’ll have to restrain you. Gray, do you hear me…?”

“Can’t you help him Doctor?!”

“Gray, can you hear me?”

I whimpered and closed my eyes.

Voices mashed together.

Thoughts swirled.

Everything was so loud.

So many voices.

“Gray, are you in there…?”

“Gray, are you there…?

“Gray, are you Pink?”

“Pink?”

Pink?

Pink.

Rose.

Gray.

Coat.

Blue.

Water.

Green.

Grass.

Orange.

Fire.

Purple.

Flower.

Red.

Blood.

Yellow.

Sun.

Black.

Darkness.

White.

Bricks.

White.

Light.

Blinding lights in the crowd.

A building on fire.

Endless gravestones.

A bottomless ravine.

An empty recording studio.

A kiss on the lips.

A picture of a family.

Rain falling from the sky.

Screams in the night.

Desks in a classroom.

Two stallions at the door.

A box on the floor.

Pink on the floor.

Have to forget.

Can’t remember.

Have to remember.

Can’t forget.

Warmth.

Terror.

Light.

Pain.

Love.

Fear.

Hate.

Hate.

Hate.

So much hate.

So much hate.

So much.

So many.

So many voices.

I screamed and clutched my head, my entire body convulsing. There were so many things. So many things. So many things. So many things. So many things. So many things. So many. So many voices.

I couldn’t take it. My head felt as it was fit to burst. I couldn’t even find the strength to open my eyes, though I’m not sure I even wanted to, lest I see those abominations that used to be Doctor and my parents.

They were talking, I think. I could hear them over the incessant chatter in my head. I could hear the thing that used to be Doctor saying something, but I didn’t know what, because I couldn’t hear anything over the screams. I felt. I felt them. I could feel.

“He’s not my father, he’s not my father, he’s not my father, he’s not my father, he’s not my father, he’s not my father…” I clutched at my hindlegs, wrapping myself into the fetal position. I rocked back and forth, tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t form coherent thoughts. “He’s not my father, he’s not my father, he’s not my father, he’s not my father, he’s not my father, he’s not my father, he’s not my father, he’s not my father, he’s not my father, he’s not my father, he’s not my father, he can’t be my father…”

“Why not? Why can’t he be your father?”

“…BECAUSE HE’S DEAD!”

But I know we’ll meet again, some sunny day...

Hey, do you wanna cup of coffee? …Hey? Do you want a cup of coffee? Yeah, okay, you take cream or sugar? …Alright. That’ll be right out to you, sweetheart.

Well, only got about an hour of daylight left. Better get started... It’ll be a lot less safe to stay here. He’ll pick up the trail before long. I know. I know. I’ll be back, don’t worry…

It was just a momentary lapse of reason. I assure that it will never happen again…

I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was wondering about the message. Yes. I know. I’ll have to find out from her what time she wants to meet us…

And if you add some paprika and marmalade to the sauce, it really spices it up and compliments the salad quite nicely…

And now, for the weather. Tomorrow will be cloudy with scattered showers spreading in from the east, with an expected high of eighty-four degrees…

I don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day…

Fuck you! Fuck you and your opinion! I don’t need any of this shit! I could be working on my own! I’m just as a part of this band as the rest of you!

Alright, I’ll take care of them, part of the time at least, but there’s something else that needs to be looked at. Well, we’ve been waiting. Waiting to clean up the city, on your word sir…

Oh, my dear, what has become of you…?

And I tell ya, if ya don’t keep an eye on ‘em an’ a firm grip, they can get wild, an’ before ya know it, your wife is off with some other bloke, ya know? It’s the truth. Unfortunate truth, but the truth…

It hit the top of the charts! No, I know! It’s great! Oh… sure. I’ll get on that right away, but first, let me congratulate on another hit, Pink.

Now, that’s great, but don’t you think that… No? Alright. You’re the boss, Pink.

By the way, which one of you is Pink?

What do you think, Pink?

Pink, don’t do that!

Absolute rubbish, Pink!

Good to see you Pink.

Pink, I think I really do love you.

What do you want to do tonight Pink?

Ooohh… Pink… Keep doing that… Oohhhhhhohooo… Oohhhh yes…

So, Pink, tell us a little about yourself.

Oh, Pink, of course I’ll marry you!

Hey, aren’t you Pink?

Pink, look over there.

Pink, look over here.

Pink, look down.

Pink, look up.

Pink, wake up.

Wake up, Pink.

Wake up.

Wake up.

Pink.

Pink…

Oh, Pink…

Oh, Pink…

Oh, Gray…

Wake up, Gray.

Please wake up, Gray…

Please…

I love you…

Author's Note

Based on “Vera”

Chapter Sixteen: Where the Hell Are You? (Part Three)

Chapter Sixteen

Where the Hell Are You? (Part Three)

The building down the street was awash in light that spilled out from every window. It looked completely out of place amidst the black night that surrounded it, almost as if some higher power had placed it down in the middle of nowhere, as a safe haven for wandering travelers in the moonless night. The dark seemed almost afraid of the light. I drew my coat closer around my shoulders and started off towards the building.

I blinked.

“So, Pinkerton, how are you feeling today?” drawled the ever monotone voice of Doctor Jekyll.

I glanced up at the doctor and shuffled my hooves uncomfortably. It had been two weeks since my episode in Doctor’s office with my parents. The rest of that day was a blur to me. Doctor later told me how he had called in two orderlies to restrain me, but I, in my panicked state of mind, had fought back. It took several minutes for them to subdue me but I thankfully caused no damage.

As I rested in the medical ward for a few days after the incident, I kept trying to think what had happened after my dad had stepped into the room and why I had snapped like I did, but every time I tried to remember, the memories were foggy and distant. Doctor said that slight memory loss was a normal side-effect of a psychotic break like the one I had had. Either that, or it was a side-effect of all the pills they were forcing down my throat to keep my sanity under wraps.

I never even thought to ask him what happened to my parents. They must have been traumatized to see their only foal like that.

But the fact still remained that my schizophrenia flared up the moment I set eyes on my dad.

Doctor said that, as I became a teenager, I always reacted violently toward my dad. That was why they had to cut off most contact from me, so that I wouldn’t have another episode like the one I had had.

They were hopeful that the amnesia might have solved that problem, but it didn’t. If anything, Doctor said that it was worse.

I can never see my dad again, at least, not for a long time. I can never see my parents.

I think they knew that when they abandoned me here, so many years ago. I think they knew that coming in to see me two weeks ago. I think they knew that walking out after my episode.

I sighed and looked at the clock on the wall. The hands never seemed to move when I wanted them to. “I—I guess I’m feeling alright. I’m still a little shaken up about what happened. I… I don’t understand what came over me…” I kept my gaze glued to the floor.

“Well, would you like to talk about it? Getting your feelings out in the open will help you, I promise.” Doctor Jekyll gave a grin that looked as if it pained him.

I didn’t want to look at him. “No.” I said simply. “No, I don’t want to.”

Doctor Jekyll let out a drawn-out sigh. “Alright Pinkerton. I’ll let you have another week’s reprieve, but after that, you will share your feelings in this group again, or I’ll have to schedule a one-on-one session with me and Doctor. We’re here to help you boy. There’s nothing to be afraid of here.” He glanced over at Gerald, who was shackled to his chair.

The claw marks that marred Doctor Jekyll’s snout were still painfully obvious.

I stood on the edge of the dock, watching the fishing boats return for the night. The rain poured from the sky with no remorse for the ponies below. To my left was a young mare, clutching the guardrails so hard that her hooves were white. She stared out over the water, her eyes seeing distant memories. She dabbed her face with a handkerchief, though I wasn’t sure if she was wiping away the rain or her tears.

“So Broom,” continued Doctor Jekyll, “are you planning on saying anything today, or are you going to continue to refuse to talk, something that, and I cannot stress it enough, is an essential part of these little group therapy sessions?”

Broom nodded.

“Is that a yes, “you aren’t going to share anything”, or a yes, “I’m going to actually participate for once and maybe start allowing the doctors here to begin doing their jobs”?”

Broom nodded.

Doctor Jekyll sighed and scribbled something down in his clipboard. “Alright Broom. Alright. Continue your little vendetta and don’t let me help you. We’ll move on to Starshine, who hopefully will be more compliant than you.” He gestured at Starshine. “You may begin sir.”

Starshine coughed and began to speak. “Weh-well, I… uhh… I-I dun-don’t r-r-real-really h-have any-a-a-a-anything to ssss-ss-ss-say…” He gave a small, apologetic smile.

Doctor Jekyll rubbed the bridge of his snout in irritation. “Of course. Of course you don’t.” I could tell he was trying very hard to curb his frustration. He looked at Marmalade. “Well, I don’t suppose you have anything to say, do you Marmalade?”
The mare merely shook her head.

The doctor turned to Gerald. ‘What about you? Do you have anything that you would like to contribute?”

“Fuck off.” growled the griffon, pulling against his restraints his restraint a bit.

Doctor Jekyll nodded in calm understanding. “I thought as much.” He looked at Dreams, on the other side of him. “You?”

Dreams looked at him. “Well…” She paused. “I had a nice conversation with that new stallion, Smile, the other day. He seems to be settling in well.”

“Oh?” Doctor Jekyll seemed interested.

“Yeah. He said he really liked the music program we have here, though he did express a want for the administration to install a sandbox in the music room, so that he could “feel the beach while he composed.”” Dreams chuckled. “I told him to let me know when that happened, so that I could check the newspapers to see if pigs had sprouted wings.”

Everypony—and griffon—in the room laughed, with the exception of Doctor Jekyll, who simply leveled his disapproving eyes at her. I could feel the displeasure radiating from him halfway across the room, and I could only imagine what his gaze must feel like to Dreams.

When Doctor Jekyll spoke, it was in a quiet and calm tone, but I could hear the barely restrained frustration underneath. “Miss Dreams,” he said, “you know that you shouldn’t make fun of the patients like that, not to their face and certainly not behind their backs. You’re better than that. Poor Smile is allowed to have hopes and, well, dreams, and you shouldn’t crush them like that, no matter how unlikely they may be. You know better.”

Dreams wilted, her eyes downcast. “…I’m sorry sir…”

“What was that?”

“I said that I’m sorry sir!”

He nodded and his horn sparked to life as he wrote something down in his notes. After a moment of silence, he coughed and looked at all of us as he had just remembered that we were here. He cleared his throat. “Well, now… since nopony else seems willing to talk today, I don’t see much point in continuing this meeting. I will see you all later.”

As Doctor Jekyll stood up and left, he nodded to an orderly in the corner of the room, and left. The orderly silently moved over to the circle and unlocked Gerald from his chair, escorting him back to his room. We all followed the pair out the door, none of us saying a word to the others as we all went our separate ways.

As the others left, I fell into step next to Dreams, who was still visibly shaken by the doctor’s reprimand. I nudged her. “Are you okay?”

She turned her head to look at me so fast that I could hear the bones in her neck crackle. “Of course I am!” she said almost too enthusiastically, as if she was trying to convince herself too. “Why wouldn’t I be?” She tittered silently and she fiddled with one of the pockets on her nurse’s uniform.

After making sure nopony was watching, I kissed her on the cheek, eliciting a slight blush from the green unicorn. I ran a hoof through her fiery mane, something that always calmed her down. “If it makes you feel any better, I think that what you said to Smile was funny. It’s been a few months since he got here, and I like to think I know him fairly well, and I think he would’ve taken it pretty well. He’s strong.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Thank you. It—it means a lot.”

“You shouldn’t think too much about what he said. Doctor Jekyll is always grumpy. You know how he is. You work with him.”

Dreams slowed to a halt and looked at me critically. “You shouldn’t say things like that. Doctor Jekyll is a highly-respected stallion in his field of work. He has every right to be grumpy!”

I scoffed. “Yeah, well, maybe he needs to install a sandbox in his office so he can feel the beach when he works.” I gave her a wink.

She laughed. I loved to see her smile. “Maybe. But still, he takes his job very seriously. I shouldn’t have said that. I know I wouldn’t have found it funny if I was in his position.” We continued walking.

“Do you think you’ll ever be in his position? An actual doctor, I mean?”

“I…” She hesitated, her eyes not quite focusing on any one thing. “I don’t know… I would love to, but I really don’t know…”

I wrapped my tail around hers. “That’s alright. I’ll love you no matter what.”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

It was an hour past midnight and Starshine and I were still awake. It had been a week ago that Starshine had managed to convince the doctors to allow him and a few others to stay up late one night and stargaze, something that he missed dearly.

Being a pony with astronomical interests, he had devoted his life prior to his institutionalization to the study of the heavens and the night sky. He was halfway through his degree before having to join the rest of the patients at Fletcher’s for reasons he was never comfortable enough with to explain to me.

After getting permission for his little stargazing session, he had invited the rest of our group, but they had all respectfully turned him down for one reason or another, leaving just me and him to watch the starry heavens pass by
.
He pointed to a portion of the sky indistinguishable from the others. “A-and if-f yo-y-y-you l-l-look ov-over th-t-there, y-you can ss-s-s-see the con-c-con-constell-con-c-constellation l-Lupus, t-the w-wolf.”

I gazed out the window, straining to see some discernible pattern in the stars. I couldn’t. “I don’t see anything.” I told him.

Starshine looked disappointed and pointed harder, his wings fluttering in impatience. “It-it-i-it’s r-r-right th-t-there. R-right be-b-between cen-c-centara-c-c-Centarus a-and s-sc-Scorpius!”

I sighed, looking at my friend apologetically. “That didn’t help at all…”

“Al-alri-a-alright, l-l-look a-at the mo-moon.”

“Can’t see the moon either. It’s all dark.”

T-tha-that’s be-b-b-because-cause it-it’s a n-new m-moon. It-i-it’s in fr-fuh-front of t-the s-sss-sun, so n-no l-light h-hits-s it.”

“But it’s nighttime. The sun’s not even out right now.” I was confused.

Starshine smirked. “T-the s-sun i-is sti-s-still th-t-there, and l-light al-always h-hits t-the m-moon, ill-illumin-i-illuminating it-its s-s-sur-surface, e-even a-at n-night.”

I nodded in understanding. “And the light shines on only one side of the moon, right? That’s why we’re seeing the dark side of it right now! Because it’s in front of the sun.” I ended, proud of myself.

“W-well, th-t-th-there is nuh-n-no d-d-dark-k s-side of t-the m-m-moon, really. Muh-m-matter of fact, it’s—it’s all d-dark. T-tuh-the only th-th-thing t-that makes i-it look li-light is the s-sun.” Starshine laughed.

I stared blankly at him.

His cheeks reddened. “It-i-it’s a-an a-ah-astro-as-astronomer-er j-joke…” He cleared his throat and went back to looking at the sky.

We lapsed into silence, both of our attentions on the heavens above, though I quickly grew bored of the stars. Sure, it was beautiful and all, but it was just so much of the same little pinpricks of light against a black backdrop.

Soon enough, I found my attention to be slipping and my eyes began to drift around the room, searching for something to distract me while Starshine pondered the mysteries of the universe or whatever it was astronomers did.

I watched as the stallion spun the merry-go-round for the other foals. I looked behind me for signs of my mother, but didn’t see her. Shyly, I tugged on the stallion’s coat and asked him if I he could give me a spin too. Smiling, he scooped be up and put me on the merry-go-round. It was a lot of fun, but the stallion had to leave with his son after a few minutes. I watched them leave, and saw all the other foals on the playground with their fathers.

As I sat there, trying not to ruin the night for my friend with my boredom, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.

The bright moonlight shining through the window highlighted the ragged scars that crisscrossed all four of Starshine’s legs and neck. I found myself staring at them for a few more moments than I felt comfortable. Ordinarily, the light was never strong enough to bring attention to them through his coat, but now that it was, they stood out like a giraffe in a sheep pen.

“It-it’s f-fuh-fine.” Starshine said, snapping me out of my reverie.

My head snapped up, to find Starshine watching me. “Oh, I-I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean too! I…” I managed to hastily stammer out.

“It’s fi-f—It’s f-fine.” he repeated “I-I don-don’t mi-m-mind. It-i-it w-w-wuh-was a-a l-long t-time ago.”

“When was the last time you…?” I found the question slip out without meaning to and immediately regretted it.

Starshine grimaced and glanced out the window. I stayed silent, afraid that I dredged up some particularly painful memories for him, but he turned back towards me. “I-i-it-i-i-i-it—I w-was in fle-f-f-fl-f-Fletcher’s wh-when i-it hap-ha-ha-h-h-happened-happ-happened. I-I-I g-got a-a-ahold of-f a sha-shard of gl-glass f-from a broke-br-broken l-light-li-l-l-light bulb i-in the ha-h-h-hallw-hallway. I trie-tried to-t-to e-end it right th-there a-and th-t-t-then… B-b-but as I-I-I start-s-s-s-st-s-started t-to d-d-ig in-into my-m-my n-neck, a-a-a ph-phone ra-r-rang in-i-in a n-n-near-ne-nearby off-office, a-an-an-and I-I ne-n-never had t-the nerve t-to mhm-m-make the f-f-f-final c-c-cut…”

A tear slid down his cheek as he spoke.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I’m sorry Star. I really am. I…” I tried to console him, but I knew touching him would cause him to freak out, so I struggled with what to do with my hooves for a moment before deciding to clasp them together.

Starshine stared at me for a second, his face mostly shrouded in shadows. Moonlight twinkled off of his glistening eyes, but they were as unreadable as his expression.

Then, with jerky, undecided movements, he reached out and took my hoof in his. My head shot up in alarm. Starshine never let anypony touch him! Not ever!

We stared at each other for a second and he smiled at me. Slow as he could be, he brought my hoof to his head, letting me feel the features of his face.

He let my hoof drop and looked at me, his eyes wavering with apprehension and hope.

I wasn’t sure what to say. “Starshine, I… I…” I breathed in. “I’m… You let me touch you…?” The question was left hanging in the air. “I don’t…”

Starshine suppressed a sob. “I-I k-kn-know…” He chuckled. “I know…”

Tentatively, I embraced my best friend for the first time and he cried into my shoulder.

It was a surreal experience, being so near to Starshine after never being able to have any sort of physical contact with him. As long as I knew him, and probably before that, Starshine never let anypony touch him. It was one of the few things life at Fletcher’s had never cured for him, because he never let it. It was his obstacle, as my amnesia was mine.

But now…

If Starshine could push past his mental block, maybe I could too…

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Hey, is there anypony in there?

“I can’t believe him!” Papyrus grumbled as we sat in the corner of the music room, separated from the rest of the ponies by the piano.

“I know. “I murmured. “Dew Drop was completely out of line. He shouldn’t have.”

Papyrus folded her forelegs in front of her, glowering at the floor as if it insulted her. “I-I just can’t believe it…”

Broom sat down on the other side of her, glancing back at the door that three orderlies had just dragged Dew Drop out of. He placed a comforting hoof around Papyrus’ neck and pulled her closer to him. “Don’t worry. He’s gone.”

Papyrus nodded quietly, her lip trembling as she tried to hold back her tears. She always was a proud pony.

But, her dam broke and a loud wail escaped her lips. She pushed herself into Broom’s shoulder, crying into him. He patted her back reassuringly.

Seeing that the situation was well in hoof, I gave a brief nod to Broom and walked off to the other side of the room where the rest of my fellow musicians were standing, unsure what to do. “Hi.” I said in a small voice.

“How’s she doing?” asked Maestro, concern evident on his face.

I looked back at Broom and Papyrus. “I think she’s doing as well as can be expected. She’s shaken, obviously, but I think that Broom has it covered.”

“I just can’t believe it. Dew Drop was always so mild-mannered. He would never hurt a fly, and now…” Smile shuddered.

Coalcatcher grimaced. “I know. We all just turned our backs for a sec, and all of a sudden, Dew is trying to rape her right in the middle of the floor…”

Mauve’s face was grim. “Does anypony actu’ly know why Dew’s ‘ere at Fletcha’s?” His gaze was vacant and empty.

Coalcatcher spoke up first. “I heard he was in here after he bashed his marefriend’s head in with a frying pan because he thought she was a zebra sent to spy on him.”

I shook my head. “I thought that he was admitted because he thought he was being stalked by invisible clowns.”

“No. No.” interrupted Maestro. “It was because he couldn’t walk out of his own home because he was convinced the sky had disappeared and he was going to float out into space.”

“No,” continued Maestro, “you’re wrong. It was because he was found passed out in his home, fully convinced that there had been a raven in the room that was talking to him about his recently dead wife.”

Smile shrugged.

“So nopony’s got any clue as ta why Dew was actin’ the way ‘e was?” said Mauve, with a glance between all of us.

Papyrus’ sobs echoed from the other side of the room, filling the silence.

“I can’t imagine how Papyrus feels right now.” Smile’s voice was quiet, but we all heard him.

“I know. Thankfully, Dew didn’t get too far before we stopped him.” Maestro eyed the spot of the floor where Papyrus and Dew Drop were.

As I stepped out of the restaurant, mares and stallions alike were lined up down the street, all eager for a chance for my autograph. One mare in particular, leapt at me as I exited the door, practically flinging herself at my hooves, begging for me to marry her.

Gingerly, I pried her loose and very bluntly told her I wasn’t going to marry her. As I quickly hurried away, intent on escaping the mob of fans, I never gave another thought for the mare.

Coalcatcher smirked. “’Course, it would’ve been kinda hot if she wasn’t freaking out about it so much and Dew wasn’t being so violent.”

Mauve smacked the back of his head. “Coal! Don’ even think ‘bout sayin’ that again unless you want me ta stab you. ‘Kay?”

Coalcatcher nodded vigorously, rubbing his neck. “I was only kidding. Honest!”

“You better be.” growled Smile.

Maestro straightened his glasses. “Indeed!”

After a slight pause, I continued our previous conversation. “Obviously, Dew had some sort of psychotic break. He wouldn’t just do this on his own.”

Mauve chuckled. “Yeah, ain’t tha’ jus’ the point? We’re all in ‘ere for things we didn’ do on our own. We’re all sick, Gray, it ain’t none of our faults tha’ we did the things we did.”

Smile tapped his hoof on the ground. “Yeah. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. We’ve all hurt and been hurt. But a lot of it wasn’t our fault. We’re all crazy here!” He laughed and then continued.

“Of course, the good thing about things not being our fault is that ponies have to forgive us for whatever we did, because we’re all sick.”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

I couldn’t sleep.

Moonlight shone through the window one night while I was trying to fall asleep. I had been tossing and turning for at least four hours, or at least what felt like that long.

No matter what I tried, the moon’s light kept me awake with its incessant brightness. If I didn’t know any better, I would figure that the moon was perched on my windowsill, beaming all of its radiance into my eyes.

It was probably bright enough to read a book without even remotely straining my eyes, if I was so inclined.

I sighed and turned over again, trying to find some comfort in the piece of cardboard that they called a mattress. My eyes drifted over the left side of my room while my mind drifted from thought to thought, unable to stop thinking about anything and everything.

In the midst of my various mental wanderings, my eyes fell upon the writing desk in the corner and the little black book that was sitting on top of it.

Maybe a bit of reading would put my mind at ease. It was certainly bright enough to do so.

I retrieved the journal from the desk and clambered back into bed with it. Learning from the previous time I read the diary, I flipped open to one of the later pages and began to read what appeared to be a little poem:

‘Vintery, mintery, cutery, corn,
Apple seed and apple thorn,
Wire, briar, limber lock.
Three geese in a flock.
One flew east,
One flew west,
And one flew over the cuckoo’s nest.’

I chuckled lightly and, feeling emboldened by the relative normalness of the entry, I turned to the next page and read that one as well:

‘Gray eyes, pink body.
Pink eyes, gray body.
Mirrors don’t, can’t, won’t, help me. I feel
I feel another in me.
I don’t like him.
I only see me in mirrors, but I can see him in the gray of my eyes.
I feel pink and gray.
Gray and pink. .
I’m Pink, aren’t I?’

I threw the book down onto the floor and clutched at the bed sheets, pulling them closer. A chill worked its way down my spine as the words in that last entry lingered in my mind.

I didn't that think I would be getting any sleep that night.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

One night, after saying goodnight to our friends, Marmalade and I were walking back to our respective rooms together, since we both lived in the same ward. Marm was talking to me about something, but my mind was elsewhere.

It was almost involuntary by now, my days in the asylum. There were times that I was on autopilot for half the day before I realized that I was awake. There was one incident a few days ago when I was in the middle of lunch, a forkful of salad halfway to my mouth, when I realized that half the day had slipped by me and I had no clue what I had done.

It was almost like I unconsciously drifted from day to day sometimes, only fully becoming aware of events around me when some higher power allowed it. It was scaring me. I didn’t need any more memory loss than what I already had.

Even now, as I was walking down the halls of Fletcher’s, I did it without thinking about it. Over the course of the year, I had learned every twist and turn of the jumbled hallways, and what had previously seemed to be a long distance now seemed to take less than a minute to travel.

If I was a little more insane, I would almost believe that the entire institution was beginning to get smaller. The hallways grew shorter, sometimes disappearing entirely as I began to realize that the asylum was not that large of a place.

Even the ponies, which I used to believe numbered in the thousands, now seemed to be a little over four hundred. I suppose that that would only be expected as I grew familiar to the various patients’, nurses’ and doctors’ faces.

A year ago, when I first woke up, I was overwhelmed by the hospital and all the ponies in it, but now it seemed as if things were smaller.

The hallway Marm and I were walking down seemed almost devoid of any life, save for one or two stallions chatting by the bathroom, a nurse pushing a trolley and another stallion leaning against the wall just in front of us.

I stared at the light-blue stallion as we approached him. Marm stopped talking for a moment as the stallion caught our attention and beckoned us closer. With a smile, he smoothed back his mane and licked his lips.

I looked at Marm, feeling reserved about going over to see what the stallion wanted. It was always good to be wary of strange stallions, especially ones in mental institutions—I knew that much—but Marm was already trotting over to him.

I sighed and followed her over.

The stallion’s eyes traveled up and down Marm’s body as we drew closer. He licked his lips again and smiled at us, though I’m sure he only had thoughts for Marm. After a moment, he spoke. “I can smell,” he hissed.

I opened my mouth to say something, but he took a step forward, wedging himself between Marm and me, practically shoving me across the hall. Before I could do anything, he grabbed ahold of her hooves and licked her neck. Marm bristled at the touch, her face contorting into anger. She struggled against his grip, but he shoved her flat up against the wall.

He giggled and Marm squealed in terror. Shaking my head clear, I leapt forward, intending to pull the two apart.

The stallion bent his head down closer to hers and took a deep breath. He ran his tongue along the rim of her ear and ran his hooves along the curves of her body. Marm whimpered and shrunk down, her eyes shut tight, as if ignoring him would make him go away.

The stallion started to speak, his snout still near her ear. He licked his lips again. “I can smell your cun—”

And then my hoof connected with the side of his head, sending him spiraling off of her. He fell to the ground, hoof clutching his jaw. He giggled again, a smile spreading across his snout. “Now now, don’t be like that.” He stood up, rolling his jaw in its socket and wiped a bit of blood away.

I stood protectively in front of Marm, who peeked out from under my legs.

The stallion took a step forward, brushing a hoof through his light-blue mane. “Hiding behind your gray stallion won’t help you, you know. I can still smell you, you know, and you smell oh-so tasty.”

The tablecloth was torn away abruptly, revealing a grinning, very feminine face. “There you are sunshine,” he cooed. “What’re you doing under there?”

“Leave her alone,” I said with a slight tremble in my voice. “What did she ever do to you?”

The stallion chuckled and took another step forward. “She didn’t do nothing to me, me. I just so like to like mares like her. I’ve had my eyes on her for a long time, yes I have…”

Marm and I backed away. “What do you mean “mares like her”?”

The stallion’s smile stretched even further and he giggled into his hoof. “Oh, don’t you know? Your friend there is a murderer.” He eyed her hungrily and looked at me. “And I oh-so adore crazy, strong-willed mares like, like, that, like that.”

My ears went flat against my head and I felt Marmalade shake violently against my hooves. “A-a murderer? Marm isn’t a murderer.”

He giggled again and violently slapped the side of his neck. “Oh, oh but she is. The bitch killed her own sons, didn’t she?” His eyes were on me. “Or did she never tell you that?”

I felt my heart beating in my chest and I shook my head. Marm was crying by now, her tears soaking the back of my hooves.

He took another step forward and tilted his head suddenly. “Oh, it was all over the news before I got in here.” Another giggle. “Marmalade, a poor, unremarkable, stay-at-home wife had two, two, sons. Their names escape me, but I’m sure you can ask her all about it. You see, see, Marmalade’s sons were sick. They were sick for a long time, and Marmalade and her husband were at a loss. They were getting worse by the day and nopony knew, knew, what was wrong with them. But Marmalade’s husband was, was, suspicious. He had a feeling that something was off, so one day, when he left for work, he snuck back in the house and watched his wife, wife, tend to their sick children.”

The stallion took a deep breath and smacked his lips. “And Marmalade’s husband watched as his loving, innocent, little wife mixed in, in, furniture polish with his children’s food and fed it to them, all the while telling them that everything would be alright.” The stallion smiled. “The bitch had been poisoning her own, own, children, keeping them sick, just to get attention from all the doctors and ponies wishing her sons to get better.”

“No,” whispered Marmalade, “No, I-I was helping them…”

“Furniture polish doesn’t help ponies, especially foals.” He giggled and twirled a lock of his mane. “Anywho, who, the father rushed in, in, in, and confronted her and rushed his sons to the hospital as fast as he could. But he was already too late, and the doctors couldn’t flush the cleaner out of their system fast, fast, enough and they finally died as their father, father, watched on in horror. The police found Marmalade still in her house, clutching one of her, her, son’s blankets to her chest and she’s been here since, right?”

The stallion’s hooves echoed around the mostly empty hall as he moved closer. “I’ll admit that a, a, bitch like that turns me on and, and, and, when I landed here not so long ago, I wanted nothing more than to rut her, her, senseless...” He licked his lips again, took a deep breath and moaned.

Suddenly, Marm was in front of me, snout-to-snout with the stallion, her eyes full of pure hatred. “DON’T YOU FUCKING TALK TO ME LIKE THAT, YOU HEAR, YOU BASTARD?! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU EVER GET ANYWEHRE NEAR ME AGAIN! YOU. DON’T. KNOW. ANYTHING! ABOUT. ANYTHING! I—I—-I… I…” She took a step backwards and shoved him into the wall. “I don’t want to see you again! I don’t want to hear you again! And I don’t want to see you! Fuck you!”

In a flash, I lunged forward and pulled the two apart, lest the stallion or Marmalade tried anything, but Marmalade was already backing away, tears streaming down her face. “Oh, oh n-no! I-I’m… I’m s-so ssuh-suh-sorry.” She took a shuddering breath and wiped her eyes. “Oh Celestia! W-what… Oh! Ooohhoho! I’m sorry! I-I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry! I’m sorry… I…”

She stumbled away with me in tow. I shot a venomous glance at the stallion, but he was slumped against the wall, doubled over in pain.

Quickly taking hold of Marmalade, I steered her down the hall and around the corner, ignoring the stares of the other patients that had been drawn out of their rooms by the commotion.

Finally out of sight, Marmalade stomped her hooves in anger and sunk to the floor, tears streaming down her face all the while. I positioned myself next to her and silently clutched her hoof, letting her know that I was there.

After a few moments, there was a soft gurgle from Marm. I bent down and ran a hoof through her mane. “What did you say?” I murmured.

Marm looked up at me and shook her head. “W-what am I Gray?”

I smiled. “You’re a nice, young mare Marm.”

She shook her head again. “No… no I-I k-killed my-my own foals… I…”

“No…” I assured, “No, you were just sick. But you’re better now. You’re better now…”

She clenched her jaw and turned away, leaving me with the pink fur of her back. “No… I’m not better, Gray, I’m n-not better…” She turned back to face me and leaned her head against mine. “W-why do you think they wouldn’t let me get a p-pet last Hearth’s Warming?” she chuckled.

I didn’t say anything.

The door to her room loomed in front of me. It was so dark, but it was so inviting. I was terrified; I couldn’t sleep if my life depended on it. I pushed the door open and crept and looked at the pink mare sleeping on the bed. She looked so peaceful and I knew that she would comfort me if I told her that I was afraid.

She loved me.

I slid the covers off and crawled into bed with my mommy and I felt safe.

Marmalade sighed and closed her eyes. “They don’t trust me to take care of anything, but I try so hard all of the time to show them that I can. I try so hard to help everypony and I worry so, so much, but I can still feel it inside of me… I look at everypony here and I see my children, and I want to take care of them, but I can’t, I won’t let myself, because I’m so afraid that I’ll hurt them again and I just hurt so much and I just don’t know what to do…”

I nodded and gently stroked her mane again and she nuzzled closer to me and I wrapped a leg around her. “I’m sorry for what happened, Marm. I really am.”

Her hot breath tickled my nose. She stared into my eyes. “I know, Gray, I know… I just wish you would’ve found out differently…”

“It’s okay. Really…” I chuckled.

We looked at each other in silence and then Marm’s eyes went wide and she shoved me off of her and scrambled away. “Oh Celestia Gray! I’m sorry! Shouldn’t be that close to you! Sorry…” She trailed off, her gaze glued to the floor in embarrassment.

“What? What’re you talking about?” I stood up.

“Well… well you and Dreams are together, and, and we were c-cuddling and I… well, I wasn’t thinking. I forgot, and, well, oh, I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to get between you two or, or anything…”

I blinked.

“You know?”

Marm snickered. “Of course I know, silly. I think everypony knows. It’s obvious to anypony who spends more than five minutes with you two that you’re in love. It’s so sweet, actually.” She smiled.

“B-but-but… You never said anything! You think it’s okay for us to be in love?”

A look of slight confusion crossed her face. “Yeah. I think it’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”

I laughed and wasn’t sure if Marm understood what was going on. “Why? Well, why don’t we start with the fact that she works here and that I’m a patient! There’s got to be some sort of rule that say we couldn’t legally be together!”

Marmalade’s face was suddenly serious. “You…” She swallowed rather loudly. “You do know that Dreams is not a nurse, right? …Right…?”

“W-what?”

Marmalade gasped and stared at me. “You didn’t know? S-she-she never told you?” She walked closer and drew me in for a hug. “Gray, Dreams isn’t a nurse here at Fletcher’s Memorial. Not anymore. Not for six, seven years now. She’s a patient, just like us…”

I felt my stomach lurch and pushed her way from me. “O-of course she’s a nurse. She works here…”

Marm’s face was grim. She shook her head, just slightly. “No. No, she doesn’t.”

I reached out for her one night, hoping to feel her embrace. To see her face. To talk. To love, as we had before. To hear her laugh. To see her smile.

I loved her.

My pink hoof brushed against her green shoulders, but my wife turned away at my touch, drawing the covers up over her shoulders and continued sleeping, unaware of my presence.

I sighed and slipped out of the bed comforter. I swung my backlimbs over the edge of the bed and cradled my head in my forehooves.

So empty…

My knees gave out and I fell to the floor. Dreams was a patient? She lied to me? Why would she ever do something like that?

Emotions flooded my mind and I couldn’t keep track.

I felt like crying, but I couldn’t, or maybe I could.

I didn’t know.

“Why?” I croaked. “Why didn’t she say anything? Why didn’t any of you?”

“I just assumed that you already knew. Everypony else does. I’m so, so, so sorry Gray. I…”

I rubbed at my eyes. “Why did she lie?”

“She’s sick, just like all of us. You just reminded me of that fact a few minutes ago, remember? I don’t think she saw it as lying. She just wanted to pretend. It isn’t her fault for being sick. Don’t blame her.” Marmalade’s voice was soft and motherly.

I whimpered. “B-but…”

Marm shushed me. “I think it would be for the best if you heard it all from her.” A look of anger suddenly contorted her face. “I am going to kill her when I see her again! I can’t believe that she never told you! The bitch! I can’t fucking believe it!” She snorted in frustration and pawed at the ground.

I flinched at her sudden rage. “Marm, be rational about this…”

“No!” she growled. “No! I thought she told you! I thought you knew! I can’t believe…” She looked at me, a mad gleam in her eye. “Get up and head on back to your room! I’m going to go have a chat with your marefriend!”

She yanked me off of the floor and marched off down the hall. I hurried after her and grabbed her shoulder. “Marm, please!” I tried to stop her, but she shoved me away and continued walking. I galloped in front of her and shook her. “Marm! Stop! Don’t hurt her!”

Marmalade froze and stared at me. She blinked and took a deep, trembling breath. “Of course. You-you’re right….” She rubbed her head. “I-I just got a little carried away there. Sorry…”

Marm continued to walk down the hallway, but stopped and looked at me, anxiety evident on her face. “I’m just going to have a little chat with her. Don’t worry. Tomorrow morning, I’ll have her talk to you and explain everything. Until then, just sit tight in your room and wait. Alright?” She tried to give a reassuring smile, but failed.

Numb and still in shock, I nodded and Marmalade left me.

I trudged back to my room, my head a mess of thoughts that I wasn’t quite sure what to make of.

I stared up at my ceiling, specifically at the joyful, little pegasi foals painted on it, for a long time and wondered what it was like to be that carefree, that innocent. Innocence was lost on me. Living in an asylum weighed heavy on the conscious, sure as the sun rose and sunk every day, sure as the schedules that dominated our lives.

Dreams, the mare that, dare I say, I loved, was a patient and not the nurse as she had so claimed. She had lied to me for a little over a year, and I never even noticed.

It was heart wrenching, and I wasn’t sure if I should have been insanely mad at her or worried about her mental wellbeing.

The lights shut off for the night, but I couldn’t sleep. Too much had happened. First, I find out Marmalade poisoned and eventually killed both her sons, and then I find out Dreams didn’t work at Fletcher Memorial Psychiatric Home.

I wasn’t sure which I should be more concerned about.

We were all sick here. We all had our secrets. We all had our problems.

The stallion that lived in the room next to me hadn’t left his bed in three months because he was terrified of the nonexistent squirrels that were crawling all over his room.

The griffon at the end of the hall couldn’t look outside because she was convinced that the stars were watching her and wanted to tickle her to death.

A mare in Ward B stabbed her fiancée to death on the night before their wedding because the voices from the refrigerator told her to.

A stallion in the high-security wing screamed for five hours every day right at seven past noon and would attack anypony who tried to quiet him down.

Another mare convinced herself that she was a spider and spent her days running around the halls making “web-slinging” noises and trying to climb up the walls.

Most of the patients disliked to talk about their past, as it was often a sore point for them and the cause of their mental problems.

More often than not, sitting down to eat breakfast in the cafeteria would find you sharing a table with at least four murderers, three of which were in restraints and had constant supervision.

Marmalade fed her sons furniture polish to get attention. She was here to get better.

Gerald watched as his family was murdered and was too afraid to stop it, something he compensated for the rest of his life. He was here to get better.

Starshine blamed himself for his brother’s death. He was here to get better.

Dreams betrayed me, but I didn’t know why. She was here to get better too,

I hesitated at the threshold to the living room.

She was in there, sprawled in her favorite chair, crying.

Though about what, I had no idea.

After a moment, I turned and walked away from the room.

From her.

I had a show to get ready for.

What happened…?

A sliver of moonlight shone down from the slit of a window I had. It framed the bed perfectly, illuminating the entire room with its glow and keeping me even more awake than I would be without it.

My room looked even more desolate in the night than it did in the day. There was something so despairing about the soulless, white cinderblock walls, about the utilitarian metal bed, desk and nightstand, about the cold, imposing door that was my only escape.

But then there were the foals up above my head, laughing and frolicking in the clouds without so much as a second glance at the less fortunate down below. There were four of them; three mares and one colt. All smiling, all the time.

It almost made me sick, that innocence, that happy-go-lucky attitude they sported. Why did they get to be so free-spirited and happy, while those of us trapped in this hospital were subject to so much change and difficulties?

How I wished to wipe those smug grins of theirs right off their over-entitled faces, but I couldn’t. They were beyond my reach, forever.

I stared at the colt’s light-blue face and his light-blue wings and his light-blue body and his perfect smile and his pompous attitude and I ground my teeth in anger.

It wasn’t fair.

It was not fair.

Everything was so messed up and it wasn’t fair.

Everypony was so messed up and it wasn’t fair.

We patients had so much wrong with us and there was nothing we could do to help. We had to rely on the doctors and their medicine and hope that, after a while, maybe, just maybe, we could be cured.

It wasn’t fair.

My amnesia felt like a wall across my mind, blocking out so much, no matter how hard I tried to push past it. It was always there, taunting me to try and break it down, but I never could. It filled my mind, hiding all but the last year from me.

However much I wanted to, I could not find a way through that wall separating me from my memories. For whatever reason, I pictured it built with white bricks, like the walls of my room and the rest of Fletcher’s—cold, emotionless, white bricks that kept everything separated, orderly and protected, under lock and key.

The moon’s light had moved up to the wall behind me by now, making the bricks look ever whiter than bleached bones.

Tomorrow, Dreams and I would talk and she would tell me why she had lied to me, provided Marmalade hadn’t scared her too much.

Maybe things would turn out alright. Maybe things would be fair.

I groaned and shut my eyes, eager for sleep to come.

Maybe all I needed was to sleep. Everything would be sorted out by the morning.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

I stumbled into the cafeteria the next morning, slightly later than most other ponies would have arrived. My later-than-usual night had made me slower to wake in the morning and I regretted staying up so late as I picked through the leftover remains of the breakfast after the rest of the patients and staff had already attacked it.

Sullenly, I glopped a bit of cold scrambled eggs, three soggy sugar cubes and some mushy strawberries and blueberries onto my plate and got a glass of water and wandered over to the table where my group usually sat.

As I approached, I noticed Starshine, Marmalade and Broom deep in a hushed conversation. That is to say, Broom was listening intently to Starshine and Marmalade whispering about something.

They stopped talking as I sat down and glanced at me. I looked at them suspiciously. “What were you guys talking about?” I asked.

Starshine spoke first. “N-noth-nothing. J-just stuff…” His eyes danced around in their sockets.

Broom, surprisingly, spoke next. “We were talking about you and Dreams.” he admitted.

“Broom!” admonished Marm. “I can’t believe that you would say that!”

“Y-ye-y-yeah!” added Starshine.

Broom merely shrugged and looked at me for a reaction.

“Where is she?” I asked as I began to eat my subpar breakfast.

Marm pursed her lips and squeezed my hooves reassuringly. “Well… we don’t really know. Probably still in her room. I went and talked to her last night and she seemed fine when I left, but she’s prone to anxiety attacks and I’m afraid that she may have stayed up all night worrying about things again.” She grimaced. “Sorry…”

Starshine coughed. “We we-were go-going tuh-to see h-her lat-later, bu-but…” He exchanged a look with Marm. “Buh-but, w-we—we fig-figu-f-fi-figure that may-m-maybe y-you sh-shou-s-should b-be the o-o-one t-to-o s-see her…”

I nodded and grimaced as I tried to force down the scrambled eggs.

Marm chuckled. “She should have a chance to explain herself to you.” Her eyes were pleading. “And please, give her a chance. Forgive her. I know that it was a shock and I know that you’re upset, but it wasn’t her fault. She never did it on purpose.”

I nodded. “I know… I know…” I looked at my friends. “I… I love her, and… and I don’t want for this to drive us apart.” I paused and shot a knowing glance at Marm. “Besides, it’s not like she was the only one keeping secrets…”

Marm’s nodded silently, a slight blush tinting her cheeks. “I—I’m sorry. I always forget that you don’t remember anything. I should’ve remembered to tell you about my past…”

“It’s alright…”

The noise from the crowd was nearly deafening as I walked on stage. Spotlights flashed on making me thankful I was wearing my sunglasses. Smoke rolled in from the sides of the stage as I approached my microphone. I reared back, flailing my forehooves in the air. The crowd went wild.

“Who’s ready to party!?” I screamed into the mic, but I could hardly hear it over the crowd’s own screams.

“Y-you sho-should g-go s-s-s-see h-her g-Gray.”

Marm nodded. “Yeah. You should go see her.”

“You should.” added Broom.

I glanced between the three of them and my tray of food.

I stood up. “You’re right. Delaying the inevitable won’t help.” I stuffed the last two sugar cubes into my mouth and went to leave, but froze as a thought occurred to me. “Err… Where is Dreams’ room by the way? I’ve… I’ve never been there…” I sounded quite pathetic, worry evident in my voice.

Marmalade beamed. “I can—“

“I’ll show you.” Broom said, already standing next to me. He put a hoof on my shoulder, guiding me away. “Come.”

As Broom dragged me away, I gave a wave goodbye to the rest of my friends before they were swallowed up by the hustle and bustle of the cafeteria.

Broom steered me out and down the hallway before I managed to loosen his grip on me. I heaved him off of me with some effort; for such a small stallion, he felt like a mountain. “Where are we going?” I asked.

Broom pointed down the hall.

“Oh, thanks. That helped.” I muttered under my breath.

If Broom heard me, he gave no indication of it as he gestured for me to follow him.

After walking side-by-side for a few minutes, I spoke up. “Hey, why don’t you ever talk?”

The red unicorn in question looked at me for a moment, studying my face. And then he shrugged. “I just don’t.”

I blinked. “Simple as that?”

“Yup.”

“Hmm…”

We stopped outside a room designated as 427, indistinguishable from any of the other doors in the hall. Broom looked at me expectantly.

“Is this her room? I asked.

Broom shook his head. “No. Mine.”

My brow furrowed in confusion. “Why are we at your room?”

“We’re not.”

“What?”

“We’re not.”

“Then why—” I stopped when I noticed Broom’s barely concealed grin. I laughed. “You… you were making a joke, weren’t you?”

He nodded, finally smiling.

“Mhm-hmm. Don’t try that again.” I playfully nudged him. “Now get going. I can take it from here.”

He poked me in the chest with his hoof, his face suddenly serious. “Don’t worry. She loves you.” He turned and walked off without me.

I looked at the gray door that was the only thing separating me and Dreams.

I knocked.

There was a startled yell from inside. “Who—who is it?!”

“It’s me…”

There was a loud clang, and the door inched open ever so slightly, revealing a single blue eye staring at me. I started to say something, but the door slammed shut, cutting me off.

“Dreams?” I called out. “Dreams, are you okay?” I pushed on the door and was surprised when it clicked open. Curious, I stepped into the room and shut the door behind me.

There was silence.

“Dreams?” The mare was nowhere to be found. I looked around her room, noting that it was eerily identical to my own, save for the ceiling, which was painted with smiling flowers in place of my pegasi foals.

Her nurse’s outfit was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“Dreams?” I asked again. “Where are you?”

The covers on the bed rustled and I noticed a rather large lump curled up underneath the sheets. I sat down on the edge of the bed and peeled back the covers, revealing Dreams’ beautiful face.

Exposed to the outside, she squeaked in surprise and buried her face in the crook of her leg. I touched her shoulder. “Dreams…”

She shuddered and tried to pull the covers back over her, but I didn’t let her. With a whimper, she pressed her face into the pillow, and began to weep profusely. Seeing her cry so violently almost made me want to as well.

As Dreams’ sobs filled her room, I rubbed her neck and waited until she was ready to talk. I was ready to wait all day if I had too.

We sat there for a few minutes, the only sound being Dreams’ muffled cries and the tick-tock of the clock in the corner.

I stared at Dream’s green form and smiled.

Accroches-toi à ton rêves.

Rêves…

Rêves.

“…Rêves…?” The word came without meaning to.

Dreams froze and one of her ears swiveled in my direction, attentive to what I was saying.

“Dreams…?” I reached out a hoof and gripped her shoulder. “T-talk to me…”

Dreams hiccupped and looked up at me, her face streaked with tears. She brushed a flyaway strand of orange hair out of her eyes and the corners of her mouth turned upwards slightly. “I’ve been a bad pony Pink. A-a bad pony…” She sniffled. “I’ve lied to you since the moment you woke up with amnesia...” She looked away, intently studying the bed sheets. “I-I don’t deserve to be called your friend. I don’t deserve your love. I’m a bad pony. Bad pony… Bad… Bad… I…”

“Hey.” I gently rubbed her back. “It’s okay. You’re not a bad pony. I love you…”

Her arm twitched and she chuckled darkly, still not meeting my gaze. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth. You’d probably hate me.” She flipped over on to her back and sat up.

“Then why don’t you tell me the truth?”

She bit her lip. “It’s-It’s a long story. I-I don’t think—”

“Hey.” I kissed her forehead and she finally looked up. “It’s alright. You can tell me.” I paused. “I can keep a secret…”

She smiled, just barely and wiped some lingering tears from her eyes.

“I-I lied to you, Pink. I took advantage of you, jus-just so I could pretend a little lo-longer…” She swallowed nervously. “I’m stuck in the past, Gray. I don’t know where to even begin… I…” She was shaking again.

I caressed her cheek and steadied her trembling body. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

She nodded and bit her lip again, searching for a way to begin. She took a deep, strong breath. “Well, she began, “I suppose it all started when I was a filly. I had a normal foalhood for a few years. I had a younger sister, my mom stayed at home, and dad was a lumberjack. We were happy, I think, I can’t remember… I don’t know…

“But then, when I was fifteen, there was an accident at dad’s work. I never found out what happened, but I remember that night as clear as crystal. We were in the middle of dinner when there was a knock on the door and we were told he was in the hospital. We rushed straight there, and got there just after he got out of surgery. He was lying on a bed, unconscious, covered in blankets. He looked so… so normal. We only found out later that both of his back legs had been severed…

“That was when everything changed, I think. Something in him snapped when he lost his hindlegs. When he was discharged, he hardly said a word to any of us, and he disappeared for hours at a time, spending the nights at bars, trying to forget everything that had happened. He was a broken stallion.

“Mom had to work two jobs just to pay the bills. There was a lot of tension between the two of them in those days. The nights he actually spent at home involved a lot of shouting and arguing. Objects were thrown, insults were slung and accusations were made about dad’s loyalty to mom.

“Three years went by like that, dad’s anger slowly growing worse and worse. Despite being a cripple, he could still pack a punch. I don’t know how mom could stand it. After a while, he started to beat on us too, so my sister and I spent as little time at home as we could.

“One night, it finally came to a head. Dad came home with a hammer he had found and—and, right in front of me and my sister, he shattered mom’s legs, telling her “Now she would know how it felt.” After that was done, and mom was bleeding out on the floor, barely conscious, dad turned to us and... and he smiled. He calmly told us that everything was our fault and turned the cl-claw end of the hammer on his head.

“…We looked a-away, but that didn’t stop us f-from hearing his sk-sk-skull c-cracking and his b-blood s-s-spl-splatter all o-over us…”

Dreams stopped here, loud, gasping sobs preventing her from continuing. She cried into my shoulder for what felt like hours and I could only hold her. There was nothing I could say to make that pain go away. There was nothing therapy could do to fix that sort of trauma.

After a long while, she removed herself from my now soaking wet shoulder and rubbed her eyes. She looked at me and tried to smile, but couldn’t find the energy. “Sorry…” she whispered. “S-sorry. I guess I wasn’t as over that as I thought…” She chuckled dryly. “…And that’s just the tip of the iceberg…”

She continued, her voice much more ragged than before. “One of our neighbors heard our screams and came over. He contacted the authorities and they rushed mom to the hospital and did their best to comfort my sister and I. They asked us a few questions, specifically about dad’s mental health, but we didn’t know anything. We both had blocked out our parent’s problems long ago.

“Apparently, dad had been going to a psychiatrist for a few months before that night, complaining about the voices in his head and how he just wanted them to leave him alone… He never took the pills they prescribed him.

“Mom was never the same after that night. What my dad did broke her, both mentally and physically. She regressed into her mind, hardly reacting to any outside stimuli and when she did, she didn’t know anything was wrong, often asking w-when her hus-husband was coming home and w-won-wondering when her foals were coming home from school…

“One night, they found her wandering around on top a bridge, completely lost and arguing with streetlamp about the weather. She had to live in a nursing home for the rest of her life because she couldn’t even she had children…

“But… But my sister and I lived on. I had to begin take care of both us both, and I had to worry about so much. I was only eighteen, and I had nopony to help me. It was horrible, but we survived.

“It was later that, when my sister could take care of herself, I became engrossed with the workings of the mind. My parents were both mentally infirm, and, I suppose, that it just seemed like the right thing to study.

“I spent all of my parents’ leftover money to get into Canterlot University to study to become a doctor. It was during my time there that I first began to realize that something was wrong with my mind as well. I began to have anxiety attacks, nervous breakdowns, panic attacks, whatever you want to call them. Silly little things where I would get all worked up over something insignificant like tests or parties. They were never anything too serious, though, and I always managed to hide them and work through them. I could never tell anypony about them, or I could never get a job in the medical field.

“After graduating with honors eight years later, I managed to find a job here, at Fletcher Memorial. It was a small job, just an assistant day nurse, but I leapt at the chance and I was devoted to it. You could not find a more diligent worker, and I quickly moved up through the ranks, reveling in every minute of my job. It was so great…

“By this time, my anxiety attacks had mostly subsided and I was at the top of my game. It was during those years that you joined us Gray. You were a quiet thing in the beginning, I remember. You were unresponsive for quite a long time and refused any sort of treatments. They assigned me to you to take care of you, since you were hardly able to eat on your own and it was fun. I would talk to you about anything I could think of, and you would just listen to me. I didn’t know if you actually heard me or not, but I tried to break through to you anyways.

“But you were listening, and, after a year, you spoke some of your first words to me. I won’t forget it Gray. You looked at me one morning and just introduced yourself to me as if we were just meeting for the first time, even though we both knew otherwise. It was after that, you began to talk with Marmalade, Broom and Starshine in your group therapy sessions and you hit it off with them immediately.”

She trailed off and glanced at her side table. “Can I have some of that water, Gray?” she asked, motioning towards the glass beside her.

I nodded and held the glass to her lips and she drained the entire thing. She thanked me with a small kiss and returned to her story.

“I was promoted to Head Nurse soon after, when the old one retired. I was so happy Gray. It was my dream come true, even if it turned out to be much more stressful than I imagined.

“All of the stress began to get to me, and, over the course of the next year, my panic attacks started cropping up again. I was so worried that somepony would notice, so I began stealing medicine to alleviate my increasingly worsening condition. The responsibilities of my position were starting to get to me. Everything was getting to me.

“It was horrible. There were times that I couldn’t stop shaking or I couldn’t find the strength to talk. I was weak and I passed out at least one time a day. I was a mess. It was a wonder that nopony noticed.

“I began to worry about everything. Did I count out those pills correctly? What would I do if the hospital burned down one night? How should I react if a family member of a patient approached me? What if somepony hurt another patient? What if? What if? What if!? I couldn’t stop. My mind was in overload and my body was out of control.

“Then, there was a big massacre near where I lived. Several ponies were found beaten to death with a hammer and strung up in increasingly gruesome ways. The police suspected that a serial killer was on the loose.

“I spent that night here, in the asylum, too afraid, too terrified, to go home. What if I was killed next? What if the killer was one of my neighbors? I couldn’t take that chance. I couldn’t. I couldn’t.

“The next day, I kept working as if everything was fine. I went outside that day, but not for long. I couldn’t be sure that I could stay safe, I wasn’t sure that I could plan for every contingency. What if this? What if that? I was so worried. But, in the hospital, I could keep track of everything. Everything is neat and ordered in here, and I was safe. Everything was in control. I was in control.

“I spent the next night sleeping in a cupboard with a chair wedged under the handle. I couldn’t take the chance of something happening while I wasn’t paying attention. And then the next night. And the next. I slept like that for almost a week before somepony noticed I wasn’t going home every night.

“They tried to make me go home, but I begged them to let me stay, telling them that I had too much work to spend time going home every night. But they wouldn’t hear a word of it and told me that they would help out with some of my duties. Nurse Ratchet dragged me back to my house against my will, locked the door and kept watch over me, determined to make sure I stayed in my house and slept.

“But, I thought, what if they needed me here, at the asylum? I couldn’t just let somepony else run things. Everything would fall apart. Nopony could do my job the way I could. I couldn’t let anything happen. There was too much out of control.

“I broke out later that night, jumping through my window, twisting three of my hooves as I landed two stories down on the cobblestone road, and limped the twenty miles back to Fletcher’s. I barely even felt the pain. I just needed to work. I just needed to keep my mind occupied. Everything was out of my control and I couldn’t take it.

“They found me the next morning, fervently trying to keep awake, too afraid to even fall asleep. They tried to take me back home, but I fought back and hurt them. I didn’t want to go outside again. I couldn’t go outside again. Too much chance. What if something happened? I couldn’t plan for every contingency… What if…?

“I ran away from them and hid in a closet, away from everything and anything. I hadn’t taken any medication for two days. My mind was in overdrive. I couldn’t think straight. Shadows were twisting into terrifying monsters straight from my deepest nightmares. I could hear every little sound there was. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins.

“My co-workers eventually found me and subdued me, but we all knew that I could never go outside these walls ever again. I checked myself in a little bit later, as if I had much say in the matter, and the Head Nurse of Fletcher Memorial was reduced to a patient, condemned to live my days within these walls…”

Dreams hiccupped and hugged me tight, her voice shaky.

“Wow,” I said breathlessly, “That—that was some story… I don’t know what to say, Dreams… I’m so sorry for you…”

She smiled and shook her head, placing a hoof over my mouth. “Don’t be sorry. None of it is your fault… Besides, I’m the one who should feel sorry for putting this off for so long. But I’m still not done with the story.” She shuddered and glanced at the wall across from her, a faraway look in her eyes, and continued.

“Everypony was shocked of course. It took a long time for the doctors to get used to the fact that one of their own went insane, and it took even longer for the patients to adjust. Weeks went by, and I began to feel empty and alone, like something was gnawing away at my insides…

“It took me awhile to realize what it was. I was missing taking care of the patients. I couldn’t do the one thing I so longed to do in my life and it was tearing me apart. I couldn’t think straight. It was worse than anything I’d experienced before, even my panic attacks.

“I spoke to Doctor Doctor and the new Head Nurse, Ratchet, about my problem, about the incessant, nagging thoughts that plagued my mind. I asked them if, maybe, I could continue to help out around the institute or take care of some of the more stable patients. Anything to fill my empty time and the growing anxiety I felt.

“And, against all odds, and a few laws, they decided to let me watch over you, Marmalade, Starshine, Broom, and eventually, Gerald, since I was already so close to you all. They figured it would be therapeutic for me, like your music therapy or the arts-and-crafts room, and they were right. It’s all that’s kept me going for all these years… There were even some days when I still feel as if I still worked here. Some days, I just liked to pretend that things were normal again, even if I knew that they weren’t. Nopony trusted me. Not the doctors, not the nurses, not the patients. I only had you and the others…

“And-and then six years passed and you woke up with amnesia and didn’t know who I was. In that split second, I took advantage of you Gray. I told you that I worked here, just so I could pretend that I did, just so I could relive those days. And I lied to you for over a year. I… I took it all too far. I don’t know how you never found out…

“I always think of that first day, when Gerald approached us in the cafeteria and told you to ask me why I couldn’t leave the building. W-when he had to be taken away, I almost told you right there and then, but I couldn’t. It felt so good, having somepony think I was still a nurse. There was a brief moment, those two first days that I began to believe that I was normal again…”

She looked up at me, tears beginning to trickle from her eyes. “I-I’m stuck between b-being a patient and a nurse, Pink, and it just tears me apart. I can see my mental condition steadily deteriorating over time. I-I-I know what’s wrong with me, and I can’t do anything to stop it… That’s… That’s what the worst part is, I think. I know that I’m insane—I can see it more and more each day—but I ignore it and continue to delude myself. I can’t stop it, no matter h-how much I try. I can’t stop it… I can’t stop… I can’t…”

Dreams took a deep breath and cradled her head in her hooves. “I betrayed you Gray. I led you on and betrayed your trust and love, just for my own benefit. I’m a bad pony.” She turned away from me. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Hey, don’t say that.” I pulled her back towards me. “I lo—” I gripped her head and looked into her eyes. I smiled. “I love you, Dreams. The fact that you’re not a nurse does nothing to change that. If anything, it makes you all the more accessible. I understand now why you weren’t worried about the two of us being together, back on Hearth’s Warming.”

She bit her lip and smiled, sliding my hooves off of her head and gripping them with her own. “You-you aren’t angry with m-me?”

“No… No, I’m not angry with you.” I rested my forehead on hers, taking care to avoid her horn. I brushed some hair out of her face. “I don’t think anypony could be angry with you after that story. Nothing was your fault. It’s not your fault what happened. It’s not.”

“I know. It’s just…” Her ears folded flat against her head. “If I had been truthful from the beginning, nothing would’ve—mmpf!”

I cut her off with a kiss. “Stop.” I smiled and kissed her again. “Stop worrying.”

With a yell, I stamped a hoof into a coffee table, sending shards of glass flying out in all directions. Blood dripped down my hoof as I tossed the now empty table frame on its end.

I kicked out behind me, bucking the chair I previously occupied, sending it tumbling over. I ran over to another table and snatched the lamp sitting on it. I smashed the lamp down into the table, shattering the glass and threw it into a mirror hanging on the wall just behind it.

A green pegasus mare shrieked and I spun around to face her, grinning madly. She glanced at me and stumbled backwards in terror, her eyes wide. I took a step towards her. The mare whimpered and backed away from my approach. I picked up one of the numerous guitars lying around, dragging it along the ground as I plodded forward. My face was split in a wide smile.

I stared at Dreams’ face, noticing the dark circles around her eyes and how disheveled her coat was. Her normally vibrant mane hung flat and loose around her head, a few wayward strands sticking erratically into the air.

I smiled again and kissed the tip of her horn, provoking a blush from her. ”I love you.” I whispered.

Dreams’ hooves wandered down my body. She smiled back at me. “I know…”

We spent the rest of the day in her room, alone.

We slept very well that night.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

I awoke one morning to silence.

It was not the normal sort of silence.

The normally harsh light in my room flickered on, bathing the room in a sickly yellow glow.

The first thing I noticed was that the pegasi on my ceiling were gone, revealing the white ceiling beneath the painting.

Puzzled, I sat up, but there was nothing in my room to greet me. My side table was gone, my desk and my journal were gone, even the potted plant was gone.

My room was bare, save for me and the bed.

Cautiously, I got up and approached the door, wondering if one of the other patients had decided to pull a prank on me and remove all my furniture or something.

I was lying in bed as a dark blue pegasus stallion read me a bedtime story. Sometimes, mommy would read me stories, but he always did the voices better. I squealed in delight as the stallion finished the story and kissed me goodnight. He looked down at me through his glasses with sad eyes. He left the room and switched off the light, turning back to look at me one more time before closing the door.

That was the last time I saw the stallion.

I nudged open my door and wasn’t greeted by the familiar, bright, white hallway I had seen every day. There was no medical equipment cluttering the floor, no chairs, no patients roaming about, and not even any doors.

Instead, there was a dimly lit hallway, barely big enough for a full-grown stallion to crawl through, and a small door at the very end that seemed to pulsate. The white walls and floor were covered with dark stains and were crumbling before my eyes. One of the lights flickered and went out.

I shut my door.

The rest of the hospital had disappeared, vanished, without a trace. Everything, all the patients, all the doctors, all the nurses, all the orderlies, everypony was gone.

All that seemed to be left was me, my room, that decrepit hallway and wherever the other door led to.
It was so quiet.

As I turned to face my room and saw that the bed had vanished as well, leaving the room even more plain and austere than before. The light overhead wavered for a moment, but didn’t go out.

What had happened? Where did everything go? How did something like this ever happen?

My friends… Dreams… they were all gone.

I covered my mouth with my hoof and sank to the floor, unable to process anything. Tears began to flow freely down my face as it all hit me.

I was alone.

Everything was gone.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

Tick-to—

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there. I wasn’t even sure if time even moved at all anymore.

I stared at the blank, white wall in front of me for… hours? Days? Years? I didn’t know.

I blinked.

I blinked again.

I blinked again.

I blinked again.

I blinked again.

I blinked again.

I blinked again.

I blinked again
.
I blinked a third time.

I blinked a fourth time.

I blinked again.

I blinked.

With a sigh, I cast my gaze at the imposing door.

There were two options available to me.

I could continue lying on the floor in a daze.

Or I could brave the hallway.

I took a deep breath and stood up and faced the door. It seemed to loom over me, daring me to open it. I steadied my shaky hooves and reopened the door, only to find the hallway even shorter and even more cramped.

With no other option, I bent down and squeezed into the hallway, if it could even be called that. I crawled forward, inching my way to the opposite end, feeling the walls and ceiling press down on my sides more with each step I made.

As I crawled forward, the hallway tapered down, growing skinnier as I went. After a moment, I found myself stuck by the crawlspace. I tried to lunge out of the space, but I didn’t budge. The door was just within the tips of my outstretched hooves, but I couldn’t move. I was wedged between the walls.

I strained and pushed with all of my might, but I couldn’t find any purchase on the slick tile. I scrambled for some sort of grip, but there was none to be found. It didn’t appear that anything in the hall had a texture. My muscles went limp and I sighed, utterly defeated.

I felt my body slip forward a bit.

Eyes widening, I breathed out again, forcing all the air from my lungs that I could and pushed with all my might towards the door.

I felt something snap and a shot of pain jolted through my legs.

I shot forward and flew face-first into the door, slamming into it hard enough to crack a large portion of it.

A voice called out from the other side of the door. “Come in.” it said.

I sat outside the door for a second, regaining my breath. The space just outside the door seemed to be much larger. With a groan, I managed to stand up, my legs a little weak, but usable. I glanced behind em and saw that the space I had just crawled through was even smaller now.

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open and found myself in Doctor’s office. He was sitting at his desk and gestured for me to come over. “Come in!”

As I crossed the room on unsteady hooves, there was a loud crackle of static as the record player in the corner burst into life.

“…So, won’t you please say “Hello,”
To the folks that I know,
Tell ‘em it won’t be long.
‘Cause they’d be happy to know that as you saw me go,
I was singing this song…

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where, don’t know when,
But I know we’ll meet again, some sunny day…”

When I got to Doctor’s desk, I noticed that he wasn’t alone. Standing just to the left of him was the pink stallion that I had seen twice before. He gave me a big dopey grin and waved. “Hello!” he said.

Unsure what was happening, I waved back. “Hey…”

Doctor cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair. “Take a seat Gray, Pink.” In a flash of magic, he dragged a chair up behind me and forced me down, doing a similar thing to the pink stallion.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Where’s everypony? Where’s the rest of the building?”

Doctor smiled and ignored my question, instead motioning to the stallion beside me. “Gray, have you ever been formally introduced to Pink here? I understand you’ve seen each other once or twice in the past year.”

I stared at the pink stallion. “Pink? As in the Pink everypony kept insisting on calling me for a while?”

Doctor continued to smile and toyed with the lapels of his tweed coat. “Well yes… and no…” He folded his forehooves on the desk. “You see, Gray, you’re sick. Your mind is fractured, split right down the middle and you don’t even know it.” He paused and glanced between me and Pink.

“Though,” he continued, “I suppose I should say both of your minds. You and Pink are two sides of the same coin. Different, yet, for all intents and purposes, the same object, the same body, the same pony.

“You see, something terrible happened, and your mind shattered and you lost all consciousness and faded away, yet, some deep part of your mind realized that something was wrong and tried to fix it.”

I stared at the pale-blue doctor, unsure what exactly he was saying. I looked over at Pink, but he was silent and seemingly disinterested. He rocked back and forth in his chair, humming to himself.

I looked back at Doctor as he began to speak again. “Psychological institutions are, in the eyes of the general populace, places of mental healing and wellbeing. You are only here to get better Gray. You are here to sort out your problems and save yourself.” He tapped a hoof on the desk. “There’s some small part of you that is still fighting to get out, to be remembered, to find a way out from behind the wall, and that is what you are trying to do here. Think of it as… a trial, only one without judges or prosecutors.”

Doctor noticed my blank expression and sighed. “I don’t expect you to understand me Gray. I really don’t. But, what you do need to do is come to terms with your problems and face your fears. Your mind is deteriorating, even as we speak and almost the entire asylum has vanished back into the emptiness because your mind cannot support it anymore. Soon, even this room will be gone and you will be in someplace else entirely. And in that place, you’ll be presented with the same evidence, faced with the same problems, as here, and, until you are whole again, your mind will keep trying to force you to fix yourself and come to terms with the issues in your life.”

I shook my head. “I… I don’t understand. You’re telling me all of this, and it’s just all going over my head. Where are my friends Doc? Where is everypony? What happened?”

Doctor pursed his lips and his eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. “I need you to do something for me Gray. I need you to tell me what I—what you—need to hear, and maybe we can avoid anything else from happening. Can you do that?” He flashed his million-bit smile at me.

I crossed my forelegs. “I want to know what’s going on first, before I do anything. You said the asylum is vanishing. Why? What’s going on?”

Doctor tugged at his bowtie, loosening it slightly. “I can’t explain it again. There’s not much time left. You need to do what I say, or—”

“No.”

“Gray, I—”

I snorted angrily and glared at him defiantly. “No!”

For a moment, Doctor seemed at a loss. He stared down at his desk, muttering under his breath.

Then, he looked up and smiled. He leaned across the desk, motioned for Pink to do the same and whispered something in the pink stallion’s ear. Pink bit his lip and sighed, nodding to whatever Doctor had told him.

“That’s a nice cutie mark.” Pink’s voice was gruff.

It took a moment for his statement to register, but when it did, I felt my mind go blank. I looked at him. “Y-you can see my cutie mark?”

Pink smiled and one of his eyes twitched. “Of course I can. It’s right on your flank.”

“Well…” I started. I shook my head. “Never mind. Wh-w-hat i-is it? Can you tell me…?”

Pink gulped noisily. “It’s a gray-and-pink record disk, but it’s split right down the middle, separating the two colors.” He chuckled. “You must really hate music to have a cutie mark like that, huh?”

“Yeah…” I nodded numbly. “Yeah. That’s it…” Doctor’s face was smug. “Okay.” I said, relenting. “Okay. You win. W-what do you want?”

“Do you forgive them?” asked Doctor.

“Forgive who?”

“Your friends. Do you forgive them for what they did?”

Next to me, Pink grabbed a pencil off of Doctor’s desk and began to chew on it. I looked back at Doctor. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Doctor sighed and shuffled through a few papers on his desk. “Do you forgive poor, loving Marmalade for caring too much and killing her own children? She was only trying to help, after all, and she spends the rest of her days trying to rectify her mistakes.”

He flipped to another page. “Do you forgive the ever skittish Starshine for being so distant for so long? He blamed his brother’s death on himself, and could never get over it, no matter what.”

A third piece of paper. “Do you forgive Gerald for being so angry and violent all of the time, even though he saw his parents brutally murdered by ponies he thought were his friends and spends his whole life trying to make sure nopony gets close to him again?”

He looked at the final page. “Do you forgive Dreams, the love of your life, for betraying you and lying to you for over a year? She took your trust and never told you the truth, even if she didn’t mean to. Betraying you hurt more than anything else, I think.”

He reached over the desk and placed a comforting hoof over mine. He looked at me in the eyes. “And, do you forgive your parents for abandoning you? Do you forgive your fathe—”

I jerked out of his grasp, springing to my hooves. “What is this?!”

Doctor stood up as well, his voice calm and level. “Gray, calm down. Just answer the question. Do you forg—”

“No!” I spat. “No! What’s going on here? What’s with all these questions? I come in here, and you’re sprouting nonsense and interrogating me!” I slammed my hoof down on the desk. “Well, I’ve had enough! I woke up today, and everything and everypony but us are gone! You explained it to me, but I didn’t understand a word you said! I want to know what’s going on!”

“You’re sick Gray. You need to realize that.” Doctor’s voice was little more than a whisper.

Pink spoke up before I could get a response out. “Doctor, I, uhh… I don’t feel so good.” Suddenly, he doubled over, clutching at his head. “AAHHHHH! MY HEAD! I CAN—I CAN’T SEE! WHAT—WHAT’S G-GOING ON! I—”

Pink shrieked, falling to the floor, writhing in pain. When he spoke again, his voice was shaky and sounded much younger. “Mommy, I’m scared… Mommy… I… I’m… Where… where am I?”

And then he was gone.

Just vanished from existence. No warning, no puff of smoke, no sound. Just… gone…

I looked back up at Doctor, my eyes wide with terror and anger. “What was that!? Was that what happened to everypony else?!”

Doctor was staring at the spot Pink had once occupied. He hadn’t heard me. “Doctor!” I yelled at him. “Doctor, answer me!”

Doctor jerked and met my gaze. “Pink!” he shouted. “Gray! Quickly! Your friends and parents—do you forgive them?!” He galloped over to me and shook me forcefully. “Do. You. Forgive. Them?”

I shoved him off of me. “I want some answers first! What is going on?!”

Doctor clutched at his chest, hissing in pain. He looked at me, his face filled with concern. He took a step closer to me, knees shaking, and fell to the floor.

Doctor’s breathing was labored as he craned his head to look at me. “Tear… T-tear down the w-w-wall… T-tear it d-down…” He coughed, blood spraying from his mouth. “It’s so... s-so dark… Where… Where are y-you…?”

He reached towards me with one of hooves and then vanished, leaving alone in the room.

Terrified for my life, I backed up against the wall, eying everything in the room, watching for what might happen next. The picture of Fletcher hung on the wall, staring down at me. It was just me and the dark-blue pegasus stallion in the painting.

I blinked.

And the once-smiling face of Fletcher was covered in blood, slumped over on the floor of his painting. Blood poured from a large, gaping wound in the center of his forehead, coating his once blue coat with red.

I gagged and looked away, only there was nothing left to look at. The contents of Doctor’s office, his desk, his lamp, his bookshelves, even the door, were all gone, vanished just like their owner.

I looked back at the painting of Fletcher, hoping to find that at least he had remained, but the wall was bare.

Horrified, I pressed myself closer against the wall, as if that was going to help. My eyes latched on to the one thing left in the room that hadn’t disappeared

The curtains.

On the wall next to me were the red velvet curtains that covered not only the windows but most of the wall.

All that was left were the curtains, me and the room itself.

Cautiously, I approached the curtains, treading softly, just in case the floor decided to disappear if I stepped too hard.

I placed a hoof on the red curtains, feeling the soft, velvet material.

I took a deep breath.

Do you forgive them?

With a yell, I yanked back the curtains, praying that the outside world was still there.

It wasn’t.

I stared out into a vast stretch of white nothingness. No color, no movement, no anything.

The world went quiet and I couldn’t hear. There was silence. The curtains vanished.

Do you forgive them?

Do you?

I put a hoof to the window pane and I could feel the nothingness press back on me.

Everything was still and peaceful for just a moment.

Everything was silent.

I stared at my reflection in the window and a pink stallion with gray eyes stared back at me.

Do I forgive them?

Do I?

I pulled my hoof away, and there was a bloody hoofprint left on the glass.

I felt the carpet fall out from under my hooves and the room and window blinked out of existence.

No, I don’t.

There was nothing. Nothing but me.

And I fell.

Author's Note

Based on “Vera”

Chapter Seventeen: A Few Hundred, Ordinary Lives

Chapter Seventeen

A Few Hundred, Ordinary Lives

Hello.

We regret to inform you that your husband has died.

We’re so very sorry, ma'am.

He was a good stallion, I’m told. He did well. This was a terrible tragedy.

There wasn’t anything left to bury, but we’ve managed to recover his belongings.

Please accept this letter of condolences from the Princess herself. It’s the least we can offer.

This war is hard on all of us. We’ve all got to do our part.

You should be receiving your first check in about a week.

Goodbye.

Goodby—

I landed face first into the dirt.

“Gray, you idiot! Get up!” I was flipped over by a pair of hooves and forcibly shaken awake. “Gray!” the voice hissed again. “Get your gear on! The rest of the company’s already half ready! Come on! It’s time to go!” The hooves gripped me under my forelimbs and hauled me to my own hooves.

I pushed the pony away, falling backwards onto my bed and quickly blinked away the remnants of sleep. Fletcher’s bespectacled and visibly annoyed face swam into view.

“Fletcher!” I leapt to my hooves, immediately waking up. I glanced to the side, my senses immediately taking in the buzz activity outside of the tent. Through the fabric wall, I could see the silhouettes of my fellow soldiers rushing to and fro, undoubtedly carrying out some orders. I turned back toward my friend. “What’s going on? Are they attacking? What’re our orders?” I blurted out.

Without even waiting for his response, I rushed to the other side of my tent and began packing up all of the equipment I would need on the field, hastily stuffing my canteen, flashlight, binoculars, and other items into my saddlebags without any semblance of order.

Fletcher chuckled. “Scouts spotted them marching beside the canyon a few miles east of here. Best guess is that they’ll get to the bridge in an hour or so.” He slapped me on the back. “And guess who got the orders to be right on the front lines, ready to engage those bastards the moment they cross?”

I smiled weakly and began to strap on my armor. “Us?”

Fletcher chuckled and sat down on the edge of my cot. “Of course it’s us! Company C always gets saddled with this sort of stuff! You don’t see the other regiments doing nothing.”

I sighed. “Of course.” I fit the heavy armour onto my chest, grunting as its weight settled onto my shoulders. “Of course we get to engage them first. Ain’t that just our luck?”

Fletcher nodded in agreement and absentmindedly cleaned the lens of his deformed glasses on my bed sheet. “It’s bullshit. I know. But orders are orders, and we gotta be ready to roll out in five minutes or so, so you best get your ass into gear.”

“Yeah yeah. Just hold on.”

I checked one final time to make sure I had everything and Fletcher and I exited the tent and galloped over to the rest of our unit. We stood there for several minutes, as our supervising officer explained to us what needed to be done.

Time passed in a whirlwind of activity, and soon enough, Fletcher and I were marching side-by-side along with rest of our company down the small, dusty path that led to the bridge and to the enemy. The canyon, specifically the single bridge that crossed it, was one of the major choke points for the Equestrian military in the war; the canyon provided a near perfect defense and separated Equestria from her enemies.

Intel had known for weeks that the enemy would be making a move on the bridge sooner or later. The canyon itself was too wide to waste time and resources to travel around it, so the bridge was their only option of travel. It had been a waiting game, as both sides waited out the other, in hopes one would run out of supplies.

A great deal of our military was dedicated to making sure the bridge was well defended. We had been stationed near it for almost two months now, without any action. Morale and supplies were low, but it could only be assumed the same could be said for the other side.

But now, as the enemy finally approached, the Royal Company C, a unit made up of 108 brave stallions, were sent to the front lines to protect the nation we called home. I was going to war. We were going to war.

Without even turning my head, I stole a glance at my fellow troops and could see the slightest hints of fear evident in their faces. I’m sure my own showed that same unwarranted fear, that natural uneasiness that appears unheeded when you know very well you may die. Next to me, Fletcher mumbled something under his breath, most likely a wish for things to turn out alright.

As we rounded the bend, the gorge and its bridge came into sight through the thick blanket of fog that had set in over the surrounding countryside. The bridge in question was nothing particularly special or ornate; it didn’t even have a name as far as I knew, and it didn’t even look sturdy enough to support the weight of a particularly heavy wagon, but it would play a decisive role in the future of Equestria regardless.

With a bark of orders from the front of the formation, we ground to a halt and set up a defensive perimeter just in front of the mouth of the bridge. I took up position next to Fletcher just to left of the center and stared out over the chasm as far as the mist would permit me.

Twenty tense, nerve-wracking minutes passed before word came from a pegasi scout that the enemy had reached the bridge. A collective murmur ran through the gathered troops as we all prepared for the fight that was to come, taking a small comfort in knowing that, if we failed here, the rest of the military was mobilizing behind us, ready to take our foes by surprise if they managed to get past us. The enemy wasn’t getting further into Equestria, even if we failed.

The fog seemed to thicken as the seconds ticked by, restricting the field of vision to halfway down the bridge. Pegasi zipped around the sky, trying their best to peer through the inconvenient weather. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough pegasi with enough weather experience to clear away the fog in any meaningful way, so we were stuck, unable to see much of anything.

I looked at Fletcher and clasped his hoof, knowing that he would have my back through this. He smiled at me. “Don’t worry, Gray. We’ll beat back these bastards. We’ll do it…” His voice wavered, as if he wasn’t so sure of his own words.

Then, a unicorn to my left sent a bolt of magic whizzing out into the sky. “Contact! Pegasus!” he screamed, pointing up into the mist. A wave of unease passed over the gathered soldiers.

I took a small breath and touched the dog tags hanging around my neck and peered into the distance, alert for any signs of movement. For a brief moment, I thought of my home and of my wife. I didn’t know if I would ever see her smiling face again. I didn’t know if I would ever return home, to what was safe and familiar.

I refocused my attention on the bridge, driving those thoughts from my mind. Seconds passed and minutes passed and nothing happened. Everything was silent. My fellow soldiers could not look more somber and grim. I tightened my grip on the cold steel of my tags.

From the other side of the gorge, a thundering explosion shook the earth, catching a few of us by surprise. I could see the faces of my comrades turn white as ivory, if they weren’t that color already. We all knew the sound of a mortar shell being fired and we all knew that there was nothing we could do to stop the devastation that came next.

Normally, in the event of an incoming mortar, the pegasi would take to the air to try and stop or divert it, but there was none of that now; the fog was too thick and they could never find it in time. There was nothing to stop the mortar’s impact.

I closed my eyes and thought of home again, of lush, green hills, of quaint towns where the streets weren’t paved with blood, of my family and friends. I thought of the last time I saw my wife as she waved goodbye from the front door.

There was a flash of light that nearly blinded me, even through my closed eyelids and cut through my memories. A split second later, a wave of scorching heat that felt as if it seared the hair from my coat hurtled into me. The world went silent and I felt myself leave the ground, carried by the shockwave, flying haphazardly through the air, colliding with chunks of rock and fellow ponies, alive and dead.

I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t. There was only blackness.

I felt myself float, fly through the sky, on the unseen and unheard. I heard whispers of voices from all around me and I couldn’t feel anything anymore.

The only thought I could spare in that moment was that I knew I was dead.

And death didn’t hurt.

There was only blackness.

Death didn’t hurt.

It felt… nice…

But then, as I floated upwards toward light, I felt myself slip, and I was tugged back down, falling, as pain flooded back into my body. I slammed back into consciousness and took a deep, gasping breath.

I opened my eyes.

The ground in front of me was torn open, another deep gash that would mar the landscape for a long time to come. A few paces in front of me was Fletcher, my best friend, only thirty-four, a shard of wood speared through his chest. Dead.

Through the ringing in my head, I heard somepony screaming, somepony crying, somepony shouting.

I wasn’t sure if it was me or not.

I felt the gravel under my body, and a dull throbbing where my back had smashed the ground in the landing.

The air was pungent with the smell of smoke and the acrid scent of burning flesh and blood.

I managed to move my neck and looked up briefly, and saw blue sky peeking through the fog.

I looked forward and saw the shadowy figures of the enemy creeping their way through the mist and smoke and debris, making their way into Equestria.

I looked down and didn’t see my legs.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

I sat up out of bed, a ragged scream escaping my lips. I flung the sheets off of my sweat-drenched body and reached for the bat I had lying next to my bed, brandishing it, ready to confront any potential intruders. My gaze flashed around my bedroom, trying to identify the ponies who were about to attack me.

Only there was nobody there.

I was alone.

Still panting heavily, I punched my mattress partly in anger and partly in frustration and let the bat drop to the floor with a clatter. That had been the third time in the same week I had nightmares of that day. Three days I had woke up screaming, my muscles tense, the adrenaline of war pumping through my veins.

My eyes slid down my body and onto the stumps where my hindlegs once were. The dreams were so vivid, so real. It would almost be easier to count the days I didn’t dream about that day than the days I did.

I blinked away the sleep from my eyes.

Grumbling under my breath, I reached over and grabbed my wheelchair, bringing it closer to the side of the bed and swung my body into the seat. I ran my hoof over the familiar armrest and spun the chair around with some effort. I gripped the wheels and rolled myself into the bathroom, somewhat reluctant to start the day.

I stopped in front of the counter and studied my reflection in the mirror. An old stallion’s face looked back at me with world-weary eyes. Tentatively, I touched a hoof to my face, feeling the wrinkles that time had gouged into my previously smooth flesh. I ran a hoof over my scalp, barely feeling the wisps of hair that made up my thinning, graying mane.

I was so old. Where had the years gone?

The war had been so long ago, and even though we won, I, and so many others, had lost so much. Ever since that day by the bridge, I had been a broken stallion. Both my body and my mind were crushed, defeated the instant I lost half of my limbs. Both literally and figuratively, half a stallion returned home to a neighborhood that didn’t accept—didn’t understand—what he had been through. They didn’t have to see some of their closest friends brutally murdered in front of them.

They, and most of Equestria, were unappreciative for those ponies that had given so much for them. They turned their backs on us, on me. They were thankless, hateful, that we fought the war that we had to. They called us killers, war-mongers, deranged and so many other things, even if we never personally committed the atrocities that some of our brethren did. Many of us were victimized for what others had to do to survive.

I think that their malicious and cruel comments hurt more than physical injuries ever did, at least for a while.
The ungrateful bastards hated every soldier that came out of that war.

The day I returned home, I was being carted down the street in the back of an ambulance, my injuries finally healed enough to allow me to go home. Even now, years later, I could still feel my neighbors’ heated, piercing stares from their windows as I trundled along the road and hear their spiteful murmurings as I was brought up to my front door and to my wife, the only pony in my life who still supported me.

My wife…

I closed my eyes, blinking back tears.

I stared at my reflection, at the deep bags under my eyes, at my gaunt cheekbones, at the tuft of hair atop my head, at my unshaven beard, at the tears sliding down from my eyes.

I cried and the old gray stallion in the mirror cried with me.

Some time later, I wasn’t sure how long, I mustered the energy to haul myself into the shower and sat on the small fold-out seat that had been there since I lost my legs. I fumbled with the knobs and eventually managed to turn on the water, and let the warm liquid pour over my face and body until I couldn’t discern my tears from the water.

I rested there until the heated water ran out and gave way to the icy cold that froze both the room and my skin and stemmed my tears.

Eventually, I turned the knob and shut off the stream of water. I sat in the shower, my head pressed against the wall beside me. I grit my teeth, stemming a frustrated and tormented scream that threatened to escape my throat.

I sat there for a little longer, letting my freezing coat and mane dry in the vaporous air, a slight shiver every now and then the only indication that I was still awake. A few more tears ran down my cheek. I let loose a deep sigh and wiped my eyes, upset at myself for getting so emotional.

I was too old to be getting so upset all of the time.

Shoving aside the shower curtain, I feebly brought my wheelchair closer and swung myself back into the familiar and worn seat. Grabbing a towel from the nearby rack, I rubbed it over my coat, wincing slightly as I felt the rough fiber against my fur, irritating my skin. I was old and frail; time had taken a toll on my body and with each passing day, I could feel myself grow weaker and even more fragile. Soon, I wouldn’t even be able to brush my own teeth, let alone get in and out of my wheelchair like I relied on so much.

I wasn’t sure what I would do when it came to that, when I got too weak to even move or take care of myself. I was much too proud to have my own caretaker, let alone live in a nursing home. I didn’t trust those ponies, with their pills and much-too-wide smiles. I would rather die than become some vegetable to take care of.

And I couldn’t ask my son to take care of me. He would rather die than have anything to do with me.

I was alone.

I exited the bathroom, purposefully avoiding the mirror, lest any other painful memories well up. I had already spent a great part of the morning lamenting about the past and the future, and I didn’t want to spend any more time on either.

I rolled out into the living room, my wheels scrapping against the doorframe as I went, as they always did. I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was only a few hours before noon. Feeling that I should probably eat something, even if I wasn’t all that hungry, I wheeled myself towards the kitchen, ready to start the day.

Reaching my destination, I rolled to the refrigerator and opened the door. The light inside sluggishly flickered on and I peered inside, my eyes glancing over the sparse interior. There was hardly anything on the shelves that still constituted as food. I had to remember to go to the store sometime.

With a small grunt, I leaned in and grabbed a carton of milk. The expiration date was dated two days ago. I opened the carton and took a cautious whiff of the milk, only to gag violently at the foul smell. It was definitely bad. Coughing, I turned and poured the milk down the sink drain, flushing water down after it.

With my plans for cereal ruined, I grabbed a knife out of the drawer and cut myself two slices of bread, silently wishing that somepony would invent some sort of pre-sliced bread. I placed the bread in the toaster and waited a few minutes for it to cook.

As I passed the time, my thoughts unwillingly strayed back to the past once again, back to days when my wife would be up and in the kitchen preparing breakfast before I had even woken. I would crawl sluggishly out of bed, and she would greet me with a smile on her face and a kiss that would start my morning out right.

But after a while, after I came back from the war, our roles were reversed as she became weaker as her health slowly declined. Despite my own handicap, I became the one to wake first and take care of her and our son. It wasn’t long after that she couldn’t even make it out of bed, and there was nothing I, or anypony else, could do to stop the illness that consumed her life.

I could still remember the smile on her face as she closed her eyes for the last time.

The ding of the toaster jolted my out of my memories. Shaking my head, I grabbed the two pieces of toast, buttered them and placed them on a ceramic plate. I brought the food and an extra plate over to the dining table.

I set a place for my wife across the table from me, as always, and began to eat.

As I ate, I looked out through the sliding glass doors that led to my backyard. I could see my next-door neighbor working in his yard, pulling weeds out of his flowerbed. Behind him, his two children, a colt and a mare, were tossing a ball between them, shrieking with joy. I watched them for several minutes before his wife came out with a tray of drinks, setting it down on their patio table.

The stallion pulled one more weed and stood up, chatting with his wife as he walked over to her. The foals ran over and hugged their father, who scooped them up, twirling them around before setting them back down. Teetering for a moment, the two foals fell on the ground, giggling madly. With a smile, the husband took a sip from his drink and kissed his wife on the cheek.

They were happy.

I ate my last piece of toast and turned away from my neighbors. I didn’t want to look at them any longer. My house had once been like that, years ago. My son’s laughter once filled these rooms. My wife once shared the bed with me, even in illness.

But they were gone now. My wife was dead, and my son had his own family. I was alone.

I took my dirty plate into the kitchen and ran it under some hot water. I grabbed a sponge and washed the plate clean with as much vigor as my old hooves would allow me. I shut off the faucet and dried the plate off with a towel, making sure it was as clean as it could be. If there was one thing I learned in my life, it was to make sure things were done properly.

With the plate spotless enough for my standards, I turned and opened the cabinet door. I reached up to place the plate back in its proper place, my hooves trembling.

But the plate slid out of my old, feeble grasp and shattered on the floor with a resounding crack that split the silence.

My eyes widened in alarm almost immediately. I couldn’t tell where the noise came from, which could only mean the enemy was fast approaching. Hurriedly, I scanned the room for any encroaching intruders. I thrust myself out of the chair, onto the floor, and pressed myself against the cabinets for protection, wary of an attack. My breathing was ragged and shallow.

I hoisted myself up and peeked over the counter and out of the windows. Shadowy figures moved through the trees beyond the yard. I could see four ponies off to the side, laughing and laughing and laughing. “Private,” I glanced at the soldier to my right, “Private Inkheart, what do you see out there? How many are there, you reckon?”

Nopony spoke.

I nodded, sinking below the counter again. “Good. That’s good. You think you can make it over to that other window?” I gestured towards the living room, ignoring how fast my heart was beating in my chest. “Keep watch from over there, alright? Don’t let them overtake us.”

There was silence.

I turned to my left. “Fletcher,” I whispered, “see if you can’t flank them, take them by surprise.” I paused, looking at the linoleum floor in confusion. “And where the hell’s all my stuff? How can I be expected to engage the enemy without any equipment?!” I turned around, searching for the closest pony to give orders to. “You!” I barked at a lither pegasus. “Corporal Clegg, isn’t it? Come over here. Been meaning to speak with you.”

The stallion approached. “Sir?”

“Find out where the hell all our equipment’s got to. The enemy’s upon us.” I paused, eyeing the stallion’s bum leg with some apprehension. “Actually, take two others with you. Get it done quicker. Now hop to it.”

He saluted. “Yes Sir.” He galloped away as best he could with a bad leg.

Feeling satisfied, I turned and, with some effort, pulled myself up and peered at my surroundings, taking care that I wasn’t exposed. I spotted a claw hammer laying just a few paces away, just outside the wall’s security. I let myself smile. “That’ll have to do. A hammer’s better than nothing…” I collapsed back down to the floor and crawled over to where the hammer was. I slumped against the barricade we were camped behind and cautiously reached for the hammer.

I wrapped my hoof around the tool and brought it in, clutching it tight to my chest. I caught Private Inkheart’s attention, but he indicated that he had nothing to report, so I crawled back into better cover.

Just then, there was a loud knocking sound. I tensed and glanced in the sound’s direction, ready to attack whatever made the noise. The enemy probably circled around to attack us from behind while I was preoccupied with giving orders. The clever bastards.

Then, the knocking came again. My eyes scanned the vast landscape, trying to pinpoint exactly what exactly was making the sound. My hooves were shaking violently and I had to keep a firm grip on the hammer, so as not to I drop it. I had to find some warmer clothes for protection against these northern winds.

A voice spoke up. “Hello?” The voice came from directly in front of me, but I couldn’t see the speaker. “I know you’re in there. Can I come in? I just want to talk…”

I gripped the hammer tighter and took a deep breath, but ended up coughing violently instead. I ground my teeth in frustration, convinced that I had just given away my position. They weren’t getting in here without a fight.

“Gray, are you okay?” asked the voice from behind the door. “I’m gonna come in, alright?”

The door handle clicked and turned.

I dragged myself closer to the enemy and hide behind the corner of a nearby wall, ready to assault the stallion the moment he got near.

The door swung open. “Gray, where are you? I just wanna talk.” The stallion walked around the room, searching for me. I didn’t believe his assurances of talking and peace. I knew that he would attack me the moment he saw me, so I patiently waited until he wandered over to where I was hiding so I could attack him.

As he approached, I leapt out, sweeping the stallion’s legs out from under him. He fell to the ground with a pained grunt, and I scrambled on top of him, holding my hammer to his throat. “Why’re you here?!” I growled. “Who sent you?!”

The stallion coughed and tried to shove me off of him, but I stayed fast, laying all my weight into him. He sputtered and frowned at me, eyes full of anger. “Gray…” he started, “G-Gray, what’re yo-you doing? It’s me, your s-s-son.” He pressed up my hoof, trying to lessen the pressure on his windpipe. You’re having another episode. You’re hallucinating again. The war’s over, Gray, the war’s over.”

I laughed, throwing my head back. Did they really think that I could be fooled so easily? “Enough of your lies!” I barked. “Tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”

The stallion looked up at me. “Do you think Mom would’ve wanted this when she died?” He scowled. “I don’t know how she loved you at the end, after everything, but she did. She loved you, after all you did to this family, and now you’re killing the only family you have left.”

I stared down into the stallion’s pale blue eyes.

I blinked.

“Son…?” I sat back, removing the hammer from his throat. I looked around the room, seeing the familiar furniture, seeing the walls and carpet, seeing the house I had lived in for so many years. There was no battlefield. There were no soldiers. There was no war.

I looked down at my son.

“I…” I sat back, the hammer falling from my hoof. “I didn’t… I mean, I thought…”

He sat up, rubbing his neck. “Ugh…” A cough. “W-when was the last time you took your meds?”

I looked towards the kitchen and the small container of pills that I knew were sitting on the counter. “I… I think it was a few days ago…”

“Gray!” He looked at me sharply. “You have to remember to take them so stuff like this doesn’t happen. What if it wasn’t me today? What if it was the mailstallion or one of your neighbors that knocked on your door and you ended up killing them?” He felt his throat again, wincing as he touched it. “See, this is exactly the reason I left.”

I sighed. “I know… I know. I just don’t want to be dependent on them. I don’t want to take them…”

My son stood up, and brought my wheelchair over. “Well suck it up. You have to. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t care, but my bitch of a wife thinks that you’re still able to be saved, for some reason.” He heaved me into my wheelchair and shoved me into the living room.

Steering me on the side of the coffee table, my son collapsed on the couch opposite. He gazed out the back windows without saying anything, obviously deep in thought. I twiddled my hooves, unwilling to look at him out sheer embarrassment. Of all the days I had forgotten to take my medication, it had to be the day my son decided to visit.

I almost killed him.

I almost murdered my own son without even thinking twice about it.

The very thought made my stomach churn.

The stallion in question spoke up, his voice hard. “I didn’t want to come over here, you know. I would’ve happily stayed at home with my own family, but my idiot wife still thinks there’s some good in you. She’s been nagging me for weeks now to come over here, and when I finally do, I’m attacked! Attacked by my own father!” He glared at me, anger burning in his eyes. “I suppose nothing’s changed, has it? You’re still the same unstable drunk asshole that ruined my foalhood.”

“I’m sorry…” I murmured.

He scowled. “I don’t care. I really don’t. You may be the only family I have left, but I despise you. I want you to know that.”

I shook my head, still unwilling to look at him. I kept my eyes locked firmly on the floor. “Son, you don’t mean that. You—”

“I do mean it!” he growled. “You fucking ruined my life—and Mom’s life too! I would’ve loved to never see you until you were lying in a coffin, but my wife seems to think that you’re getting lonely cooped up in here, or something. I just don’t see how that could be though, seeing as you drove everypony away yourself! You must love being by yourself, ‘cause that’s what you spent your time trying to do my entire foalhood!”

“That’s not true!” I finally looked up, staring at my son from across the table, feeling his icy gaze burn into me.

He chuckled. “Oh yeah? Well you sure did a fine damn job of it!”

“No… I… That was such a long time ago. I’ve changed! Please!” I inched the chair closer. “Please, son… I love you…”

He glared at me. “No you don’t,” he whispered. “And even if you do, I don’t care any more.”

There was silence.

I looked into my son’s eyes and saw none of the young, innocent colt I had raised. It had been years since any sort of compassion graced his features. He was a cold, heartless shell, the remnants of what could’ve been the kind of caring stallion I had hoped him to be, as any father wants their son to be.

And I had only myself to blame for not being there for him when he needed it, and for everything else he blamed me for. It was all my fault.

“Look, Gray,” he continued, drawing my attention back to him, “the wife thinks it’d be a good idea if you got out of the house for a bit. There’s a parade downtown later today, and she, not I, wants you to come with us, alright?”

I pressed my lips together, unsure how to respond. I looked at my son’s reluctant and furious face and knew that he didn’t want me in his life. He had made that painfully obvious many a time. I had hoped that he had forgiven me over the years, but it seemed nothing had changed.

I hadn’t seen him or his family in years. I had only met his son, my grandson, once or twice. As uncomfortable of an afternoon it would be, I felt a twinge of longing for my family stir. My son may have hated me with every fiber of his body, but my grandson and daughter-in-law still had some love for me.

But even that love wouldn’t last very long. Everyone always left in the end.

I sighed and looked anywhere else in the room but at my son. “I—I suppose I can. I would be nice to get out of the house and all…”

“Alright.” He stood up, glancing at the clock on the wall. “But listen here, Gray,” he said, jabbing an accusing hoof in my face, “If you ruin this day for my family, you’d better wish that you died in that war, you understand? If I see you spending any time with my son than necessary, I will not hesitate to abandon you there, no matter what my wife says. I don’t need you to screw up his life the way you did to mine.”

Swallowing a lump in my throat, I nodded in understanding. With a snort of disgust, my son left me and marched over to the door. He turned and looked at me one last time. “I’ll be back in about an hour with everypony else to pick you up. Don’t forget.”

And with that, he was gone, the sound of the door slamming marking his departure.

I stared at the wall for what felt like an eternity, unable to find the resolve to move from my spot in the living room.

My son hated me. He hated me with all of his heart, ever since he was old enough to realize he could. At first, I hadn’t cared that he despised me. Those days I hardly cared for much but a bottle of alcohol and a nap. But, as I grew older, especially after my wife’s passing, I found myself longing for his love and respect, only to be spurned every time. It broke my heart to see him hate me so, but I think it hurt me more to know that it was all my fault.

I may just not have killed my son a few moments ago, but I killed his soul, his kindness, his innocence long ago.

I blinked.

My eyes drifted over the clock on the far wall and widened in surprise. Almost fifty minutes had passed since my son had departed, and I hadn’t done a thing but sit and wallow in my own mind.

My son, and his own family, would be here any minute to pick me up.

Shaking myself out of my stupor, I quickly wheeled into the bathroom and freshened myself up. I hadn’t seen my grandson or daughter-in-law for almost two years. I had to look presentable for them at least, because I knew that I couldn’t mess up my chance with them the way I had my son.

Feeling that I cleaned myself up enough, I went back out to the living room and waited for my son’s imminent arrival. A few minutes passed with no indication of their presence, and I ended up looking out into the backyard. The family next door had gone back inside, leaving their own yard empty and abandoned. A pair of swings swayed in a gentle breeze. The ball that the foals were playing with earlier lay abandoned in the grass. A lone glass still remained on the table, half of its contents gone.

There was a knock on the door. “Come on, time to go!” yelled a voice from beyond it.

“Just a minute, son!” I called back. “I’ll be out in a moment!” I took a final glance around the room, making sure that nothing was out of place. Nothing was; the room was impeccable as always.

Knock. Knock. Knock. “Time to go!” came the voice again.

I growled in annoyance. “I said that I’ll be right out! Calm down!” I shook my head and sighed. “Geez… These foals have no patience anymore…” I muttered to myself.

I wheeled myself toward the door, ready to go spend the day with what little family I had left, but the phone sitting on the kitchen counter rang. I jumped at the noise. Nobody ever bothered to call me except the occasional telemarketer or old friend that managed to look me up, and I only kept the device around for emergencies.

I stared at the phone with slight trepidation as I rolled over to it. I rang again, a small red light just above the rotary dial blinking on and off and on and off and on and off.

I was a bit unsure about the machine. Sure, I understood the benefits of having a phone, but it was such new technology, in my eyes at least, that I didn’t really trust it. All the newfangled devices they had today baffled me. Writing letters was always more relaxing for me anyways.

And besides, hadn’t I unplugged the phone?

My eyes followed the phone cord over to the power socket in the wall. The plug sat on the counter just below the socket. The phone wasn’t plugged in.

The phone rang a second time.

Phones weren’t able to do that without power.

Cautiously, I reached out and picked up the phone, bringing it to my ear.

“Hello…?” I whispered, my voice unsteady.

On the other side, a mare’s chipper voice answered me. “Yes, this is a collect call for a Mrs. Rêves from Mr. Pink. Will you accept the charges from Canterlot?”

I was silent, unsure how I should respond.

The phone was definitely not plugged in. There was no way that it could work, but there was definitely somepony on the other end. Somepony that was talking to me.

There was a knock from the front door. “Time to go!”

I slammed the phone back down on the hook and turned away, my hooves shaking. I took a deep breath and swung my chair around, deciding to leave the mysterious phone behind and enjoy the day out with my family.

And the phone rang a second time.

I stared at the machine in silent dread. It wasn’t going to let me have a moment’s relief. I squeezed my eyes shut and briefly thought about just leaving, but, as the phone rang again, I knew that I couldn’t. I was going to have to answer it.

I picked up the receiver again. “Hello?”

The same mare answered. “This is Canterlot calling, are we reaching—”

“Hey, you coming back to bed?” A mare’s voice came from behind me.

I flung the phone down on the counter and spun around to face the mare. A young, light-blue unicorn mare was leaning against the doorjamb to the living room, watching me with unrestrained lust. She smiled. “Sorry, hun. Did I surprise you?”

I gaped at the mare in shock, my mind unable to comprehend what was going on.

Behind me, the phone on the counter was still working, the mare’s voice barely audible. “See, there’s a stallion answering, but he keeps hanging up…”

“Time to go!”

The mare sauntered over to me, flicking the tip of her tail across my snout. She leaned closer, planting a kiss on my forehead. “What was it you had to do that you had to interrupt our time together?”

I pushed the mare off of me and darted out into the living room, desperate to get away from her. “Wh—who are you!? What’re you doing in my house!?” I fumbled behind me for any sort of weapon, but my hooves only connected with the couch.

The mare looked worried and crept forward. “Are you feeling okay? It’s me, your loving wife. Don’t you remember me, Gray?”

I shook my head forcefully. “My wife is dead! She has been for fourteen years now!”

The mare bit her lip. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Gray? You’ve never had a wife before me… unless you’ve been withholding information, that is. There’s only ever been you and me.” She stepped forward, forelegs wide in an attempt to hug me, but I pushed her away.

I gulped. “I’m f-f-feeling fine a-and I know that you’re not my wife. You look nothing like her! Now, I don’t know who you are, but I want you to leave, or I’ll call the authorities!”

The mare sighed. “Gray, I’m your wife. I’ve lived with you for five years now. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you need to calm down so we can talk about it…”

Three knocks from the door. “Come on, it’s time to go!”

I smiled in satisfaction, my attention drawn to the door. “Well, if I’ve never had a wife before you, than why is my son at the door with his own wife and son? You’re much too young for any foal of ours to have his own child!”

The mare stared at the door for a moment. “Gray, there’s nopony at the door.” She looked back at me, concern evident. “Gray… I don’t know what’s going on. You’re obviously not feeling right. You need to go rest.” She gripped my hoof and the arm of my wheelchair and began to wheel me into the bedroom.

“Get away!” I yelled, swatting at her. “Don’t make me hurt you!”

The mare smiled sadly, wincing slightly from my blows. “This is for your own good. You need to rest. Sort things out.” Her eyes shone. “Everything will be okay. You can trust me.”

There was a burst of static from the phone in the kitchen. “…answering, but he keeps hanging up…”

The mare tugged on my chair, but I gripped the wheels tightly, stopping her. “No…” I shook my head, a sudden thought popping into my head. “No, y-you can’t be real.” I pointed an accusatory hoof at her. “You’re not real! You’re just another hallucination, like before! I never took my medication.” I grinned madly, feeling triumphant that I was able to tell reality from delusions for once. “You’re not real!”

The unicorn blinked once and then pressed her lips against mine. Her tongue tried to force its way past my lips, but I kept them firmly shut and struggled against her affections, eventually managing to push her away.

She broke away, wiping some saliva from her snout with the back of a hoof. “Oh, Gray, I love you, but sometimes you can be so silly.” She gripped my wheelchair and pulled me forward toward my bedroom. She smiled. Now, come on, how about I go convince you that I’m real, huh? I know a few tricks that’ll prove how very physical I am…”

She reached for the doorknob, intent on opening it, but the door was flung open before she could, revealing a young, light-blue pegasus mare. She gasped in awe, covering her mouth with a hoof. “Oh Celestia, what a fabulous room!” she exclaimed. “Are all of these…”

I looked at the new mare, a sense of dread settle in my stomach. This bout of hallucinations was the worst one I had ever experienced. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the visions. “It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real…” I muttered under my breath, hoping that if I repeated it enough, the two mares would go away.

I opened my eyes again. “—look at this tub! Hey, you wanna take a bath?” The new mare’s face peeked out from my bathroom, a mischievous grin on her face.

There was three knocks from my front door. “It’s time to go!”

The pegasus mare walked out from the bathroom, concern evident in her face. “Hey, can you hear me alright, Gray? Is there anypony in there?” She reached out to touch me, but I wheeled away from her as I did with the unicorn mare earlier.

Speaking of the unicorn, I wondered why she hadn’t said anything, I glanced at the hallucination in question, only to find her frozen stock still, hoof still outreached for the door handle. She was completely and utterly motionless, completely silent.

My breath caught in my throat as I felt a sense of panic set in. I didn’t understand what was going on. All my normal delusions involved the war, or my past in some way, but this was something different altogether. This was horrible. I had never even had an attack close to this bad before, even including the time I went without medication for two months.

I was scared. Terrified, even. Body-numbing, distressingly horrified.

The pegasus mare walked forward. “What’s wrong? What’s going on Gra—” She froze, cut of in the middle of her sentence. She stopped moving, just like the unicorn mare.

The room was silent for a moment, save for my own sigh of relief. Whatever sort of delusion I was having, it was like nothing I ever had experienced before. I had never been so lucid and aware of my surroundings and actions in any previous occurrence.

I looked at the two immobile mares, hallucinations, standing in my living room, thankful that they had both stopped moving. Whatever was going on, whatever reason my mind conjured them up for, seemed to be stopping. Soon enough, I knew, they would both disappear and I could take my pills and go on with my day.

The phone crackled to life once more, somehow making itself heard from all the way in the kitchen. “…there’s a stallion answering, but he keeps hanging up…” Making doubly sure the two mares weren’t moving any more, I wheeled myself towards the phone, intent on hanging up the receiver so I could forget the past few minutes and just go be with my family.

But just as I was about to reach for the phone, I heard a polite cough from behind me. I turned around to find a young, sky blue stallion outfitted out in full military armor reminiscent of my own staring at me with a solemn expression on his face.

He cleared his throat a second time and inched closer to me. “Sir,” he began in a deep, unwavering voice, “I regret to inform you that your father has died in service of Equestria and her interests.” He held out a small, plain box that appeared to come from nowhere. “As the last remaining kin, the few belongings he had with him are now yours. Do with them as you wish.” He dropped the box in my lap.

I looked at the stallion in confusion. “My father?” I asked incredulously. “My father’s been dead for over forty years now, and he never even served in the military! The war’s been over for even longer! What are you going on about?”

The stallion merely smiled. “I am sorry, sir. I, and by extension, Celestia herself, extend our deepest sympathies for your loss. This war has been a very trying time for all of us, and your father paid the ultimate price for our safety.”

I frowned, glancing between the box in my lap and he soldier. “Are you even hearing me? The war has been over for—” I stopped short, realization falling over me once again.

“Oohhhhhhohooo no, no. You’re not real. I forgot for a moment. I’ve been hallucinating this whole time. You’re not even real! That’s why you make no sense!” I pointed a hoof in the stallion’s unflinching face. “You’re not real! Ha! Ha ha hahahaa!” I giggled, clapping my hooves together in delight.

Th stallion didn’t move and continued to stare at me with his steely eyes. “Try not to be to upset, sir. I know that the loss of a close family member can be hard, but perhaps you can alleviate some of that sadness by buying some war bonds. That always manages to cheer me up.”

I chuckled again and circled the stallion. “Who are you?” I murmured. “Why am I imagining you, of all ponies? I can’t remember meeting you at all.” I glanced at the other immobile figures in the room. “Why am I hallucinating any of this…?” I came back to the stallion’s impassive face. “What’s your name? Who are you?”

The stallion didn’t answer.

I waved a hoof in front of his face. “Hello?” I prodded the stallion’s cheek, but he didn’t even budge. He had become frozen, just like the others were.

I was so tired of this shit.

Knock. Knock. “Time to go!” Knock.

Hearing the voice sent a chill down my spine. I whipped my head around to stare at the front door, my eyes wide. Was my son really still out there, waiting for me to meet him, or was I just hallucinating that as well? If I opened that door, what would be waiting for me out there?

I almost didn’t want to know.

Ever so slowly, I rolled closer to the door, but it didn’t seem to get any nearer. I was moving across the floor, away from the back of the house, but I wasn’t getting anywhere. Furniture passed by me, but I never seemed to move.

Something knocked at my door.

“Time to go!” it yelled, shouted, roared, screamed, bellowed, neighed, hollered, shrieked, cried, screeched.

I found myself wheeling away from the door, into the living room. Like a switch had been thrown, I suddenly knew that I couldn’t open the door just yet, but I didn’t know why. I didn’t have the energy or the willpower, maybe. Maybe I was afraid of it.

I was approaching the entrance to the kitchen, when an old, cerulean-colored griffon stepped out of the doorway, and stopped my wheelchair with a clawed talon. He leered down at me for a moment and straightened the pair of glasses perched precariously on his beak.

“Well, well, well… What’d we got ‘ere?” The griffon’s voice was filled with malice. “A poor, legless, washed-up, failure of a pony, eh?” With a grunt, he gripped my foreleg, digging his talons in hard enough to draw blood, and threw me to the ground. He loomed over my prone body, a sadistic grin plastered across his beak.

He kicked my wheelchair out of the way and seized me by the shoulder, lifting me off of the floor, chuckling all the while. “You ain’t nobody special!” he barked. “You’re a mis’rable ‘scuse for a pony! Your family never loved you! Your wife stayed with you outta pity, and your son loathes you! Nobody could ever love the likes of you! You shoulda died out by that bridge! It woulda been better for everypony!”

He threw me to the floor and kicked me in the stomach, knocking the air from my lungs. I tried to take a deep breath, but he kicked me again before I even had time to think. Pain racked my body. I was too old to take that sort of abuse.

The griffon attempted to kick me a third time, but I anticipated his movements and managed to roll from his foot, feeling my old military training beginning to seep back into me. I pushed myself up off the floor as best I could, leaning against the backlegs of the frozen pegasus mare. I looked up at the griffon, my ribs throbbing from their abuse, and realized something.

“But…but, you’re n-not real!” I wheezed, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. “You shouldn’t be able to touch me! You’re just my imagination!”

The griffon’s eyes gleamed with a malicious light. “You’re wrong, ya know. I’m very much real.” He bent down and scooped up the claw hammer from earlier that was still lying on the floor where I had left it. He examined the hammer for a moment. “I’m very much real.” he repeated.

I shook my head. “No! No. You’re not real! I—I’m just hallucinating!”

The griffon smirked. “Wrong!” He traced my jawline with the claw side of the hammer. I felt the cold metal against my skin through my coat. “Am I gonna ‘ave to demn’strate it for ya? What do I gotta to do to show ya, laddie? Am I gonna ‘ave to kill ya, so you can see just how real all this is?”

He gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Why’re you so afraid of dying, huh? There’s no reason for it.” He smiled. “You’ve gotta go sometime, and ya know, deep down in that black ‘eart of yours, that your time is long overdue…”

He raised the hammer high, preparing to strike. I clenched my eyes shut, not wanting to see the blow that would end my life. I had been alive for so long, I had seen so much and lost too many things and ponies I cared about. I hurt so much all of the time. Everything hurt every day. Maybe death would finally be the end I was looking for. I had cheated death once, had felt its grip on me, seen the light, and returned. Maybe this time I would find peace. Maybe this time I could be happy.

“You’re wrong, laddie. Everythin’ about ya is wrong,” the griffon hissed, “an’ I’m ‘ere to make ya right, an’ if it don’t work, I’ll do it again and again until it sticks…” A pause. “Now, be a good little soldier, and die for me and your country, will ya?”

I fell backwards onto the floor as my grip on the immobile mare behind me gave way, and waited in that position for that single instant when everything would fall away and blackness could overtake me once again.

But nothing happened. There was no impact of the hammer against my flesh, no shout as the griffon swung down, no anything, no anything. I creaked open my eyes to see the hammer frozen mere inches from my snout, its owner just as motionless as it was.

I crawled out from under the hammer, my entire body trembling. I eluded death for a second time, even as I had begun to come to terms with it. I had lived for so long. I was tired.

After a few moments, I inched over to my wheelchair, ignoring how tired my forelegs were getting from pulling myself along the floor. After struggling to turn the chair upright, I heaved myself into the seat and moved back over to the mysterious griffon. Leaning in close, I tentatively prodded the griffon with my hoof, feeling just how very solid he was. He was no hallucination. Hallucinations couldn’t throw you around like a ragdoll. Hallucinations weren’t solid. Hallucinations couldn’t physically kill you.

I gulped and backed away. They were real. They were all real. The mare on the phone, the mare convinced she was my wife, the pegasus mare, the soldier, the griffon. They were all really here. I wasn’t imagining them. There were really in my house.

There was a knock at the door. “Time to go!”

I blinked.

And when I opened my eyes, I was alone. All of the intruders were gone, leaving my house just as empty as it used to be. Even the telephone in the kitchen was back on its cradle.

“What do you think?” A new, yet familiar, voice spoke up from behind me.

I recoiled at the sound and spun around to see a light-blue unicorn stallion wearing a tweed jacket and a bowtie sitting on the couch in the living room. Everything about him was familiar, from the smile on his face, to his near analytical gaze, almost as if he was from a dream that I couldn’t quite grasp.

“Ah yes. Hello, Gray.” he said, acknowledging me as I finally noticed him. “Tell me, how do you feel?”

Cautiously, I wheeled over to him, staring at him, trying to place where it was I had seen him before. The stallion folded his forelegs in his lap and we gazed at each other in silence for a few moments, before he repeated his question. “How do you feel, Gray? Angry? Confused?”

I nodded.

The stallion chuckled. “Yes, that’s to be expected, I suppose. All of this was thrown at you rather suddenly. But, judging by the way things have been going, I’d say that it’s been working out, wouldn’t you?”

“What’s going on? What’s working?” My voice faltered in my throat. “Wh-who’re y-you?”

“Ah. That’s right. How silly of me.” The stallion leaned back further into the couch, settling into the cushions. “Well, there was a time that you called me Doctor, but I’m not sure that that name applies any longer, at least not here, in this place.” He paused. “I suppose that you can make up a name for me, if you’d like. It really doesn’t matter. I’m not sure that you’ll remember any of this anyways. The mind has a tendency to forget, after all.”

“I don’t—You said that I used to know you,” I scrutinized the stallion’s face, “and you seem sorta familiar, but…”

Doctor seemed disinterested. “I’m sure you’ll create a backstory for me to satisfy your needs in a second. But I assure you that we have met before.” He brushed some unseen dust off his jacket lapel before returning attention to me. “Now, tell me, how do you feel?”

I snorted in exasperation, annoyed at his constant inquiries. “I don’t know! Angry, I guess. Confused. Uneasy. Scared. I don’t know. I don’t understand what’s going on! Does that help?!”

Doctor nodded. “That’s understandable. I’d ask you what you think of the mare on the phone, the griffon, and all the rest, but I’m sure you don’t understand anything that’s been going on at all. I think—”

I gasped in realization, cutting him off. “I remember now! You were the field doctor that patched me up after I lost my legs! Geez, you didn’t age a day, did you? What’re you doing here?”

Doctor sighed, visibly irritated. “If that’s what you want to think, Gray, then I won’t stop you. You’re trying to make sense of everything that’s happened, but all you’re doing is delaying what needs to be done.”

“And what’s that?”

“Tell me, do you feel anything for these ponies that have appeared in your house and disturbed your afternoon? Do you feel any forgiveness, pity, anger, kinship, for what they’ve done?”

“No. I—I don’t know. Why would I? I don’t even know why they’re in here at all. I was going to spend a nice day with my son and his family, but all this has got in the way. That griffon almost killed me!” I grumbled.

Doctor was silent for a moment, obviously trying to think of what to say next.

A loud wail split the silence.

Surprised, my eyes shot to the source of the sound. Lying on the couch next to Doctor was a small, pink colt, barely a few months old, crying his lungs out. Doctor didn’t even seem to have noticed the foal, for he didn’t even blink when it began to cry.

The colt flailed its legs in the air, revealing sparse patches where his coat was falling out. He looked horrendously sick. His eyes were bloodshot, his ribs were visible, and he was obviously in a lot of pain, probably the reason for his incessant crying.

I grabbed at Doctor’s hoof, getting his attention. “Doctor, who’s the colt?”

Doctor glanced up at me and his eyes followed my gray hoof to the pink colt. His eyes widened in surprise and he muttered something under his breath. He looked back at me, distress plain on his face. “Well…” He swallowed. “Well, I suppose that you could call him Pink. Of course, names aren’t a matter of much importance as of right now, so his doesn’t mean much.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s in a lot of pain. He’s… regressed, stuck in his past, so to say, and… and he’s scared. He’s scared because he has even less of a clue about what’s going on than you do. He’s not in control anymore…” He placed a hoof on the colt and stroked his head, quieting his cries.

“C-can you help him? You’re a doctor, right?” Pink squirmed under Doctor’s touch, a soft, mewling whinny the only sound he could muster.

Doctor solemnly shook his head. “No. I can’t. Only you can help him. You’re the one in control now, Gray. You have the power to decide both your and his fate, and I can only hope that you’ll figure it out.”

“What?!” My voice cracked. “I don’t even know him! Why do I have to help? Why can’t you?!”

Doctor merely smiled again and began to straighten his bowtie. “I can’t tell you that Gray. You have to figure out on your own what you’ve done and what you need to do, and then maybe, you, and Pink here, can be whole again.”

“You mean…” I gripped the stumps where my hindlegs used to be. “…my legs?”

“No.” Doctor reached out and jabbed at my chest. “Maybe you can repair your soul. Maybe you can repair your mind.”

“But where do you fit in? Who are you?"

Doctor leaned back and smiled. “I’m you, Gray. Everything in here is you. I’m just a small part of our mind that realized what happened when Pink withdrew into himself and went behind the wall. I’m trying to fix what he did, what we did. After all, I’m you, Pink is you, and you are you. We just have to figure out who we are. Our wall destroyed us, split us, and now Pink is trapped, repressed, behind it, and you, a combination of all the memories we wanted to forget, are in control for the first time.”

“I don’t underst—”

The stallion, me, cut me off. “You don’t have to. You probably won’t remember any of this. Or that mental institution, for that matter. Of course, I probably won’t either, so just go with it.”

There was a knock at the door. “Come on, it’s time to go! You’re gonna be late!”

Doctor smiled. “Shouldn’t you go see who’s at your door?”

“I…” I looked at the door with apprehension. “I don’t know.”

“I know.” he, I, said.

Rather abruptly, the room burst with sound as a cacophony of voices from nowhere exploded into being.

“Wrong! Do it again!”

“I regret to inform you that your father has died.”

“Time to go!”

“Is there anypony in there?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“There’s a stallion answering, but he keeps hanging up.”

It was the intruders from earlier, all speaking, all at the same time. But they weren’t in the room. Their disembodied voices filled my house, filled my ears, filled my mind, until all there was was their voices.

The unicorn mare’s sugar-laden voice spoke up. “Are you feeling okay?”

The griffon’s vicious shout boomed. “Wrong! Do it again!”

The soldier’s gruff whisper cut through me. “I regret to inform you that your father has died.”

The pegasus mare’s voice was full of concern. “Is there anypony in there?”

The phone beeped. “There’s a stallion answering, but he keeps hanging up.”

The pony at the door knocked again. “Time to go!”

Doctor pointed at the door. “Go open the door.”

“Time to go!”

“Is there anypony in there?”

“Wrong! Do it again!”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I regret to inform you that your father has died.”

“There’s a stallion answering, but he keeps hanging up.”

With a sense of uneasiness, I rolled myself over to the door, feeling Doctor’s eyes on me as I went. My eyes.

“Wrong! Do it again!”

I stared at the door.

“There’s a stallion answering, but he keeps hanging up.”

I placed a hoof on the doorknob.

“Are you feeling okay?”

I took a deep breath.

“Time to go!”

I turned the knob.

“H-hello?” My voice was weak.

I opened the door, only there was nothing on the other side. There was nopony waiting on the other side. No knocker to greet me.

There was nothing but a blank whiteness.

There was a knock on a door.

“Come on, it’s time to go! Open the door!”

I inched closer to the threshold and peered out into the emptiness, hoping to see somepony, anypony, anything.

“Hello?” I asked again. “Is there anypony out there?”

Nothing answered.

Before I could even react, the floor of my house lurched, sending a wheel of my chair over the edge, throwing me from the seat. I fell into the emptiness.

I screamed for a long time, my eyes clenched shut on pure, instinctual fear.

And I fell.

Wind whistled past my body, but I couldn’t feel it.

And I fell.

Invisible flames burned away at my flesh, exposing the bone underneath to the cool air.

And I fell.

I could hear voices that weren’t my own.

And I fell.

My limbs felt as if they were being torn apart.

And I fell.

The scent of burning flesh assaulted my nose.

And I fell.

The world felt as if it split in half.

And I fell.

My mind felt as if it split in half.

And I fell.

And I continued screaming, dreading the moment when my body would connect with the bottom in a visceral moment that I would never survive.

And I fell.

I didn’t want to die, I realized.

I was just as afraid as I had always been, all my life.

Afraid of hitting the bottom of whatever was at the end of the whiteness.

Afraid of loneliness.

Afraid of love.

Afraid of separation.

Afraid of death.

Only, that moment of impact never came.

Death never came up to meet me.

I wasn’t falling anymore. My body was stationary and resting on a comfortable cushion.

Cautiously, I opened my eyes, hoping that something, anything, would be there to greet me.

And I was staring at static on a television screen.

There was a knock at the door behind me.

A stallion’s voice came from the other side. “Come on, Pinky, let us in! It’s time to go! You’re gonna be late for your show!”

A cold breeze blew in from the broken window in front of me.

Behind me, the door unlocked and slammed open with a loud crash.

I blinked.

Author's Note

Based on “Bring the Boys Back Home” and “When the Tigers Broke Free”

Chapter Eighteen: Coming Through In Waves

Chapter Eighteen

Coming Through In Waves

I blinked.

“Oh Celestia… Oh fuck…” whispered a voice in quiet shock. “Jus’ look at this room… The fuck is all over the floor? Are all these his guitars? Fuck, what did ya do, Pinky…? What the fuck happened…?”

Something grabbed me, shaking me. The voice spoke again. “Come on, Pinky, wake up! Come on!” I was released. “Fuck…”

“My goodness!” said another voice from behind me. “Look at all this! Do you have any idea how much this room is going to cost to repair? This is a travesty! In all my years here at this hotel, I’ve never seen anything like this!”

“Yeah, yeah. Listen, mate, I’ve got me some more pressin’ matters than your precious room. My best friend, and the stallion who’s supposed to be onstage in an hour, is lyin’ here, an’ I have no clue wha’ to do!”

The sky out past the broken window was filled with both stars and city lights. It was hard to distinguish the two different points of light from the other. It looked as if the sky was both above and below the horizon, filling the entire vista, filling up the entire world. It was full of stars.

“But the room! The damages in here probably number in the thousands of bits and I haven’t even seen bedroom at all. Look, he even broke the window! That’s probably where that bloody television came from! You’re lucky he didn’t kill somepony with that! I could sue!”

“Okay! We’ll pay it all back, with a little extra on the side, a’ight? I promise. He’s an artist. Give him some slack, will ya? Now could you kindly stop breathin’ down my neck? I have an emergency here!”

There was silence and then a slam of a door.

“Finally,” muttered the first voice. “I thought he’d never leave. “ A pause. “Now, Doc, do ya think ya can take a look at him? Make sure he’s okay?”

“Can do,” said a new, third voice.

A bespectacled dark-blue stallion appeared in front of the television and window. He smiled at me and pressed something cold and round against my chest. “Hey, is there anypony in there? Hello?” He shone a bright light into my eyes.

The static on the television screen in behind the stallion seemed to fill the room with its dull humming. Its white light illuminated the stallion’s face, turning his coat stark white and almost skeleton-like. Dark shadows painted the walls, creating monstrous shapes and figures where there weren’t any.

The stallion looked away, his wings fluttering against his back. “He’s not responding. His heartbeat is abnormally slow. We may need something strong to snap him out of it, get him energized again.” He looked back. “Alright, son, just nod if you can hear me, okay? Can you do that for me?”

I stared past him.

The stallion sighed and gently pried open my mouth, sticking a flat stick onto my tongue. “He’s really out of it. I can only imagine what must be going on inside that head of his. I mean, just look at what he did to this room. I honestly don’t even want to know what drugs are in his system right now…”

The first voice spoke up again. “I know. I mean, he even shaved his fuckin’ head—an’ his tail! How am I gonna explain that, huh?! This is bad, even for him. Fuck!” He screamed, and there was a loud crash as something fell to the floor. “You never did like me at all, did you, you bastard! After all we’ve done, you go and nearly kill yourself! Fuck you, Pink! You were like my brother, an’ I’ve had ta sit by all these years an’ watch you slowly kill yourself! An’ for what?! Fame? Money? Is all this really worth it?! Fuck!”

The curtains fluttered in the cold wind, only partially covering the shattered, broken edges of the window. The glass glinted in the moonlight, throwing strange lights onto the walls and floor. One particular shard of glass was stained a deep red.

“I’m sorry,” he resumed. “I—I didn’t mean ta…ta get tha’ upset. I jus’… Sorry, Doc. I jus’ don’t want him to die, ya know? We’ve known each other for so long. He’s like family, you know?” A sigh. “It’s all my fault anyways. I got him hooked on those drugs. If he dies, it’s on me…”

“He’s not going to die, Short. I’ll sort him out. Don’t worry.” The stallion in front of me returned his attention to me, noticing something on my hooves and picked one up, inspecting it. “Now, what did you do here? This is quite a nasty cut, you know? Looks like you lost a lot of blood.” He wrapped my hoof in some sort of bandage. “There,” he cooed, “that’s better now, isn’t it? It shouldn’t get infected, if we’re lucky.”

I stared at him.

The stallion nodded. “Come now,” he said with a soft smile, “I know you’re feeling down. But don’t worry, I can ease all that pain you’re feeling, and get you back on your hooves again, just in time for tonight. Doesn’t that sound like it’d be good?”

“Just do whatever’s necessary, okay, a'ight, Doc? We need him awake and alert for the show. We can’t have the concert withou’ the singer. I mean, the bloody princess will be there. We cannot cancel this. He needs to be there.”

“I know. I know.” He pushed me down into the cushion of the chair. “Just relax, Pink. I’m here to help.” He turned away, speaking to the other voice. “I’ll just need some information first.” He looked back. “Just the basic facts, of course.” The stallion pressed a hoof against my head, smiling at me all the while. “Now, can you show me where it hurts?”

“Can you show me where it hurts?” The doctor smiled wide at me and pressed his stethoscope to my chest. “What’s wrong?”

I whimpered and clutched at the bed sheets, glancing up at my mother who was hovering worryingly at the side of the bed. The stallion smiled again and followed my gaze. “Miss, what’s wrong with your boy?” he asked my mother.

She flinched at his words and took a moment before answering. “He… Where to start… He hasn’t had the energy to even get out of bed for the past few days, his hooves are all numb and swollen, his temperature is in the hundreds, he has violent coughing fits, and he has a hard time speaking. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. I’ve tried everything I know.”

The doctor nodded and looked back at me. He floated a small, flat stick out of his bag. “Pink, can you stick out your tongue and say ‘Ahhhhhh’ for me?”

I pressed my lips together and shook my head, drawing the covers over my head.

“Pink.” My mother’s voice was stern. “Listen to the nice doctor, okay? He’s here to help you.”

I peeked an eye out from under the blanket. The old doctor was still in front of me, still smiling, still waiting. I looked at my mother, whose warm and sympathetic, yet serious expression persuaded me to come out from my shelter.

Glancing between the doctor and my mother, I slowly opened my jaw. The doctor pressed the stick on my tongue and peered into my mouth. “Hmm.” he grunted. “Interesting…”

My mother leaned forward. “What? What is it?”

The doctor shot her a look and she grew quiet. He turned his attention back towards me. “Now, I’m going to touch your hoof. Tell me if you feel anything, alright?” He pressed his hoof into mine. “Anything?”

Slowly, I shook my head and licked my lips. “I—don’t feel anything…”

The doctor nodded again. “There’s no pain? No feeling at all?” I shook my head again. “Hmm…” He sat back and rummaged around in his bag. After a moment, he brought out a small machine. “I’m going to take your blood pressure, alright?” Without waiting for an answer, he wrapped the band around my foreleg and it began to tighten uncomfortably for a few seconds. He stared at a small screen and then the band hissed and lessened its grip. I let out a small breath of relief.

“Well, your blood pressure seems normal.” He looked back at my mother. “I’d like to talk to you out in the hall for a minute, if you don’t mind.”

My mother held a hoof to her mouth and nodded silently. She led him out of my room, but the door was still ajar. When she spoke, her voice was strained. “W-what do you think’s wrong, doctor?”

There was a slight pause as the doctor coughed. I leaned forward as best I could and tried to focus on what they were saying. “To be truthful, Miss, I’m not entirely sure… His symptoms are nothing unusual when alone, but I’ve never encountered them all together… It’s mystifying.”

My mother’s normally steadfast voice wavered slightly. “Please help him, sir. I’ve already lost my husband, and I… I don’t think I can lose my little boy as well…”

“I’ll do my best ma’am.

Mother was silent for a moment. “What do you recommend?”

“Well, I’d like to do some more tests to determ—”

My mother interrupted him. “Excuse me.” She suddenly appeared around my doorframe. I sunk down into my pillow, trying to appear as if I hadn’t been listening, but I wasn’t sure it worked. My mother smiled sweetly at me and grabbed the door handle. “It’s alright, Pink. Just try and go to sleep, alright? Everything will be fine. Trust me.”

She shut the door, leaving me alone in the dark.

The door behind me shut.

“Come on, Doc. Hurry up, we’re runnin’ out of time here. You got everythin’ you need now?”

“I do. This is my own blend of medicines and drugs. One shot of this should get him up and running again in no time.”

“Is it safe? Won’t hurt him or anythin’, right?”

“No, no. He should be fine. He may have a bit of a reaction to it, but nothing that won’t resolve itself over time. You should know it doesn’t come cheap though.”

“Of course. Of course. Just do it.”

The floor was littered with trash and all sorts of broken objects. Shards of wood, guitar pieces, shattered records, lamps shades, and bits of food were all arranged in neat rows, like somepony had spent time organizing the debris for some strange purpose.

The dark-blue pegasus walked in front of me again. He smiled at me, gripping my foreleg with one of his hooves and held up a small syringe with the other. “Okay, Pink, this’ll just be a little pinprick. Nothing too bad. It shouldn’t hurt.” He pressed the tip of the needle against the crook of my foreleg. “This should work.” He pushed down, puncturing my skin with the cold, metal point. “There’ll be no more—”

“AAAAAAAAHHH!” My body convulsed as the medication rushed through my veins, igniting a fire in my head. My body stiffened in pain, and I kicked out, nearly knocking the stallion back, my scream echoing around the room all the while.

And just like that, it was over, and I collapsed back into a slump, my mouth still half open. Everything in front of me went in and out of focus as my eyes stared blankly ahead, unable to concentrate on any one thing. My forelegs twitched once and then didn’t move again.

“Fuck,” said the voice from behind me. A tan pony entered my field of vision, putting the voice to a body. “Is he alright, Doc?”

The dark-blue pegasus gave the tan one a small smile and cleared his throat. “He should be fine. He may feel a little sick for a few minutes, disoriented as he adjusts, but fine.” He circled around to the arm of the chair, smacking me gently on the cheek. “You back with us, Pink?”

I turned my head toward the stallion, looking at him through bleary eyes.

The stallion smiled, clasping his hooves together. His glasses shone in the television’s light. “Ah, wonderful! He acknowledged me. Everything seems to be working as expected.” He gripped me by my forelegs and heaved me to my hooves. “Can you stand up?” he asked, hovering by my side.

I stood there for a few seconds, my knees trembling as they struggled to support my weight. I looked around the room, noticing just how utterly devastated it was, and then my legs gave out.

The stallion was on me in an instant, catching me before I hit the floor. “Not so much then, huh?” He pulled me off the floor, propping me up as he led me away from the chair, and television, and window, and floor, and outside. “No matter,” he continued. “I do believe it’s working. You should feel good in a little bit. It’ll keep you going through the show, regardless.”

He brought me over to two new, identical stallions who were waiting by the door. The tan pegasus anxiously lingered on the edges of my vision. I stared past the two stallions, swaying back and forth as the pegasus doctor steadied me. He patted my head reassuringly. “Everything’s going to be fine, Pink. Trust me.”

He handed me over to the other two stallions who took me violently. I looked up at them, and, as their bodies and faces merged and separated and shifted around, I couldn’t tell if there were two of them or only one. The short pegasus moved over and the identical stallion dragged me out into the hallway. A lone vacuum cleaner sat unattended in the middle of the hall.

The doctor walked next to me, smiling, and draped his stethoscope around his neck. “Come on, it’s time to go.”

“Come on, it’s time to go!” Short shouted from the doorway. “We’re already runnin’ late as it is! We can’t miss this train!”

I gently patted his shoulder and nodded, looking at the hallway. “I know, I know. Just a minute, alright?” I turned away from him and walked into the other room, still nodding. “Just a minute…”

I walked into the living room and saw her lounging on the couch, lazily flipping through some sort of magazine. I nervously knocked on the doorframe and she looked up at me. “What?” she asked.

“I…” I tapped my hoof on the floor. “I just wanted to let you know that I love you, Rêves…”

My wife stared at me for a few seconds before returning her attention to the magazine. “I know you do, Pink.” A small sigh escaped her mouth.

I toyed with the straps of my saddlebags. “I really do, you know…”

Rêves looked at me again. “I know.” The smile on her face looked strained and… nervous. “You should go before you’re late.”

I gulped and backed out from the room, my head bobbing as I went. “You’re right. Right… I’ll go…” I went back to the front door where Short was waiting impatiently.

“You good now, Pinky? The cabbie’s been waitin’ for five minutes now. Let’s go! Come on!” We exited my house, trotting toward the taxi waiting for us on the street. I kept my head down as we walked; it seemed so heavy all of a sudden. Short must have noticed something, because he wrapped a wing around my side as we walked through the yard. “Hey, is everythin’ alright? ‘Cause if it ain’t, I…”

“It’s fine.” I snapped. “Everything is just fine.” I unclipped my sunglasses from the strap of my saddlebags and shoved them on my face.

“You don’ look fine. What happened in there?” he asked, gesturing back at the house, at my wife.

I shook my head. “Nothing.” We clambered into the backseat of the taxi and the driver immediately took off, mumbling something under his breath about his aching hooves.

Short stared at me for a few seconds. “Pink, what’s going on? You can tell me. I’m your best friend.” He laid a hoof on my shoulder.

I stiffened at his touch and pointedly looked out the window.

“Come on, Pinky. Whatever’s botherin’ you is killin’ you. What—”

I sighed and looked back at him. “It’s nothing. I just… I’m tired, I think. It’s nothing…” Short looked as if he was going to say something, but thought different. Thankfully, he dropped the subject.

We rode in silence for a while. I stared out the window and watched as the high-end mansions of the rich and famous turned into small, family homes and eventually into commercial buildings.

From behind my sunglasses, I watched other ponies going about their lives. There was a well-dressed stallion frantically reading through a packet of papers as he hurried through the streets. A mare and her three screaming foals walked by him and the youngest nearly tripped him up. The stallion angrily glared back at the family and walked right into another pony, scattering his papers through the street.

One of the papers drifted near the window but floated away, never to be seen again.

“How long has it been, Short?” I spoke up, still looking out the window.

“How long has what been?”

I shrugged. “Since all of this. Since we first came up with the crazy idea to start a band?”

Short hesitated before answering. “I don’t know. Must be going on thirteen, fourteen years, huh? Why?”

I looked back at him. “I don’t know. It seems so long ago that we were just starting out. We had a dream, Short. I had a dream.”

“Well, we achieved that dream, didn’t we? I mean, look at where we are now. We’re going to play for the Princess Celestia herself and all of Canterlot in two days. What more could you want?”

The taxi cab ran through a small dip in the road, throwing me forwards slightly. The driver yelled out an apology. I took a deep breath, pressing a hoof to the window, feeling the life, the movement, outside. “I don’t know, Short. What are you supposed to do when you achieve your dreams? When there’s nothing left to strive towards…?”

Short scoffed. “Whoa now. That’s gettin’ too philosophical for me. You better leave that stuff for song lyrics, a’ight?” He shifted in the seat. “Now, we’re about there, so get your head on right. You gotta look good in case any reporters see us, or somethin’.”

I nodded sullenly and turned my head to look out the window again. The outside world slowly moved by and we passed through a gate signifying where the train station began. There were all sorts of ponies and other carriages moving towards the entrance, pressed up together, like one continuous entity.

I hefted my bags onto my lap as we began to come to a halt. Short smacked his lips. “Well, here we are, Pinky. Let’s go.”

He opened the door, and we exited the cab. There was a shrill chime as the clock tower down the street struck noon.

There was a shrill chime and a hiss. I blinked and found myself staring at tiled floors.

“Thank Celestia the elevator’s here. Took its time.”

“We got twenty minutes to get him there, okay? I don’t care if you break the speed limit, just get us there before the damn show starts!”

I coughed and tried to move my neck to see where I was, but my head was too heavy. Hooves gripped at my forelegs, dragging me forward. My backhooves scrapped across the floor.

There was another beep and the ground shuddered and groaned and began to descend. I let out a low groan and I felt a pair of hooves grip my face. The owner of those hooves stared at me, but their features were blurry. “Hey, he’s awake again. He alright?”

Another voice spoke. “It’s perfectly normal for him to be fading in and out of consciousness. Don’t worry, by the time he gets to the stadium, the drugs will have kicked in full force and he’ll be an entirely different stallion.”

“He better or there’ll be serious hell to pay. We can’t have this concert without him.” The hooves left my face and my head fell again, unable to stay up.

There was silence for some time, and then something spoke up. “We should get his outfit on so he’ll be ready when we get there.”

“Good thinkin’.”

Hooves lifted me up further off the ground and yanked my legs wider apart. Something soft was put over my back and over my forelegs. It was constricting, squeezing, embracing, smothering, cocooning me. I didn’t want it; I wanted out. My breath caught in my throat and the air grew heavy around me.

“Ohh shit! He’s fading again!” My face stung as something slapped across my cheek. “Come on, Pinky! Don’t go again! Come on! Wake up!”

“Wake up!” There was a loud slap as Sir hit my desk with his ruler. He glared at me over his glasses. “There’ll be no sleepin’ in mah class, laddie. School is for learnin’, an’ nothin’ else!” He waved the ruler threateningly in my face. “If ya do it again, I’ll have to extract some pun’shment from ya, ya hear?”

I gulped and nodded earnestly. Sir looked at me and then stalked back to the front of the room, where he began lecturing the class again.

I sighed and propped my head on my hoof and tried not to fall asleep again. I glanced to my right, at the colt who sat next to me. I couldn’t remember his name, but he sat at attention, writing diligently in his notebook as Sir taught us about some sort of math.

The mare to my left seemed to be similar to the colt, though obviously less interested. Her pencil glided over the paper, but wasn’t writing anything pertaining to the lesson. Her other hoof was twirling a lock of her mane.

I looked down at my own notebook and the few formulas and random notes that I had jotted down. It didn’t mean anything to me. I knew that I would never use any of it past this class.

I sighed and refocused my eyes at the board, but I wasn’t really paying any attention. Before I knew it, the lunch bell was ringing and the rest of the class was flowing out of the door before I could even react. Seeing that I was soon to be left behind, I stood up and scampered out after them, relieved to be over with Sir’s class.

I managed to find Short in the crowded hallways, and together we made our way out of the main building and toward the cafeteria for lunch, meeting up with Ox and a few others as we went. We pushed through the crowd of students, all clamoring and trying to get to the same place as everyone else.

We had almost gotten into the lunchroom when I realized I didn’t feel the familiar weight of my saddlebags on my back. I had left them in Sir’s classroom in my rush to leave. I had to get them back before too much time passed.

Telling Short where I was going, I returned to my teacher’s room, half dragging my hooves and half hurrying along, hoping that Sir wouldn’t punish me for disturbing him outside of class time.

What felt like an eternity later, I stood outside his door, feeling a wave of apprehension wash over me. I really didn’t want to go in there, but I really needed my saddlebags, or I would just get in trouble in all my other classes for not having my materials.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed on the door and glanced in. Sir was sitting at his desk, a small, brown-colored bottle clenched in his talons. I swallowed and tapped on the doorframe. Sir jerked at the sound and looked at me. “Wha’ d’ya want?” he grunted.

I pursed my lips and stepped into the class. “I-I just forgot my bag, S-Sir. I’ll just be a mo-moment…” I stood nervously at attention, waiting for his permission.

The griffon frowned at me and took a long swig from his bottle. He motioned at the desks before turning his attention to the bank of windows that took up an entire wall of the room. “Guh-go ahead and ge’ ou-out…”

I nodded quickly and trotted over to my desk. My bags were lying just where I had left them. I grabbed them and made for the door, but stopped at Sir’s desk. My gaze lingered on him for a second, at his disheveled state, at the drink in his grip, at his bloodshot eyes, at his cane leaning against the wall behind him. Glancing back over from the windows, he noticed me. “Wha’ d’ya want, boy?”

I tightened the strap of my bag. “N-nothing, Sir, I—”

He hiccupped and took a drink from his bottle. “T-then ge’ outta ‘ere, ‘fore I wallop ya…”

I nodded again and hurried from the room. The door slammed shut behind me with a loud bang.

There was a loud bang and I was being dragged over rough cobblestone. We were moving faster than before. I had just enough energy to lift my head slightly, just to see where I was, but had no luck. Everything was blurry and vibrant. Indistinct lights and colors shifted past my eyes. I couldn’t focus on anything for more than a second before having to look away. I let my head fall limp.

“He’s awake again.”

“Good. Maybe he’ll stay that way this time. Now where’s that carriage?”

My hoof hit a loose stone and I hissed in pain. One of the voices responded in kind. “Lift him higher, will ya? We can’t have him injured before his show!”

“He’s already pretty injured, if you ask me.”

“You’ll shut up if you know what’s good for you.”

“There’s the carriage. Come on.”

I glanced up again and saw a large, dark blob swimming in my vision. The scene shifted and churned as shapes and colors mixed and separated. A tan spot moved in front of the black one as we approached it. The blob stopped and came closer to me, until I could just make out its worried eyes before they too were swept away in the churning mass of colors.

The tan blob stared at me and pulled toward the black shape, a loud bang resounding in my ears as a door of some sort seemed to open in the black structure. The hooves holding me lifted me higher and higher and threw me into the blackness. The word carriage floated across my mind.

The entire chamber shifted as something else climbed in after me. “Are we ready to go?” it asked.

Another voice responded. “Almost. Just wait one second.”

“Just wait one second.” The voice on the other side of the door said.

“But sir, we have to—”

“No. I’m going to say goodbye to my son before I leave. Equestria can wait.”

The door creaked open and the stallion peeked his head in. He flicked on the light as he entered the room. He approached my crib and smiled at me. I looked up at him and reached my hooves toward him, cooing softly.

“Hey, Pink,” he said. “How’re you doing?” He bent down and scooped me up. “You shouldn’t be up this late, but I guess it’s hard to fall asleep with all that commotion, huh? I’m sorry.”

He kissed me gently on the forehead. I giggled and shot him a toothy smile and he stroked the fuzz on my head in response. “I love you, Pink. So much that I can’t even tell you. I’m so, so proud to be your father…”

I looked up at him and squirmed in his grasp, wondering what was going on. The stallion let out a shuddering gasp and wiped at his eyes. “Pink, Daddy’s going away for a little while, okay? But I’ll be back, I promise… I promise I’ll be back… I won’t leave you all alone.”

He sat down on the rocking chair in the corner of the room and cradled me in his forelegs. “I don’t want to miss you grow up, Pink, but I have to, for a while. I have to go, but I don’t want to, and it’s just killing me to leave you and your mother so soon…”

Babbling something, I clambered onto his shoulders and began pulling at his wings, marveling at their downy feel. The stallion chuckled and pulled me off him, despite my voiced protests. “I love you, Pink.” Tears shone on his glasses. “But I have to go now…”

He kissed me again and brought me back over to my crib. He set me down and pulled the blanket over me. I smiled up at him, happy to just be in his presence.

The stallion stood there and stared at me, holding back quiet sobs. He reached down and caressed my face. His eyes darted toward the door for a second, but then looked back at me.

Pressing his lips together, he rubbed at his eyes with a free hoof. He walked towards the door and turned off the lights. “Good night, Pink. I love you.” he whispered.

And then he shut the door and was gone.

I was alone.

My eyes shot open as the stagecoach began to roll forward.

Author's Note

Based on “Comfortably Numb”

Chapter Nineteen: Take Away My Soul

Chapter Nineteen

Take Away My Soul

I felt the carriage move underneath me, lumbering along the bustling roads. My face was pressed up against the window, having landed there when I was unceremoniously thrown in. I would’ve moved, but I couldn’t seem to find the muscles necessary to do so.

Bright, harsh lights and indistinct shapes moved past the glass, my eyes focusing on hazy objects only to have them whiz past and be lost forever. Streetlamps illuminated building corners and sidewalks. Ponies walked by each other, their shapes and colors and contours all blending together before I had a chance to differentiate them. The night sky seemed black and endless, with a few stars pulsating above the buildings.

The frigid air outside chilled the window, soothing my warm and flushed face. A thin line of saliva trailed out of my lolling mouth, and a violent dry heave racked my body, followed soon by a dribble of bile and unidentifiable chunks of food. The vomit splattered all over the window, sliding all the way down the door.

“Eeeggh shit, Pink. That’s disgustin’.” Hooves gripped me and moved me away from the window, propping me up proper against the seat back. Across from me sat the blurred figure of the tan pegasus, the owner of the hooves, who was watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite place. For some reason, the name ‘Short’ wormed itself through my mind.

I tried to speak his name, but it died in my mouth, coming out instead as a guttural moan, my jaw hanging uselessly and my tongue too numb and heavy to form any speech. The pegasus, Shortchange, I remembered, bent forward. “How you feelin’, Pink? What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

I couldn’t find my voice.

Short watched me for several moments, eyes unblinking before settling back down into the seat. “Yeah…” he whispered, returning his gaze to the window, “I don’t think I even wanna know what you’re thinkin’… At least I don’t gotta wipe throw-up offa ya.”

There was silence.

Directly across from me, behind Short, out a small half-window, was the driver of the carriage, a dark brown stallion. My eyes stared at him for a few seconds, still going in and out of focus, before finally settling on the black hat that sat atop the stallion’s head.

I blinked, and clarity returned to my vision, snapping back without any warning. I blinked a second time, surprised by the sudden change. Shifting my eyes over to Short, I saw him for what felt like the first time.

I wasn’t sure why.

I moved my hooves, placing them in my lap, but then changed my mind and put them back at my sides. Then, I raised one and scratched the top of my head, feeling the rough, short stubble that was all that remained of my mane.

My head turned to look out the window once again, only this time I could actually see the shapes and colors and ponies that existed outside the small, cramped, enclosed carriage I was in.

A mare and stallion walked side-by-side, passing by a group of rambunctious foals galloping in the opposite direction. The foals ran into a well-dressed stallion, nearly toppling him over. After a small stumble, the stallion righted himself and futilely yelled after the foals, who were already a block away, causing more havoc.

Gathering his wits around him, the stallion turned on the spot and promptly walked straight into a young mare, knocking her to the ground. He bent down to help her up, and then I lost the two of them as the carriage continued down the street.

Up ahead was a fancy restaurant, awash with light and high-society ponies. A line stretched out of the door and around the corner of the building. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until a rather filthy, malnourished unicorn crossed in front of our stagecoach, carrying a small can. He approached the line of upper-class ponies, begging desperately for charity.

The aristocrats ignored the stallion, sticking their snouts in the air and looking elsewhere, causing the destitute unicorn to only press harder, practically shoving the can under their faces, pleading for some money. I lost sight of the restaurant and the stallion soon after as we rounded another corner, heading down some dark street completely different than than the last.

A signpost informed me that we were turning off of Fletcher Memorial Drive and onto Memory Lane.

Storefronts lined the new road, but not a single one was open, leaving the outside pitch black, save for the lampposts that lined the street. And yet, ponies still moved in the shadows that doused the streets, drifting through the darkness only to appear suddenly as they moved into the sharp cone of light cast by the numerous streetlamps and then vanished again.

The streetlights illuminated the otherwise black streets, shining spotlights on the lives of the citizens of Canterlot as they walked underneath them. Every second, every minute, some stranger would step into the light, revealing a snapshot, a single moment of their life before disappearing into obscurity, only to appear again under the next light.

Under one such light was a mare dressed in a blue dress, trotting to some destination unknown, throwing cautious glances over her shoulder as she went, undoubtedly afraid for her safety in the night.

Under another was an elderly stallion, who tripped on some unseen bump in the pavement, sending his glasses and cane flying out of sight.

Underneath yet another was a very lewd looking mare calling out to a passing stallion, who paused and, after a moment, approached her.

And as the carriage rolled through the city, the streetlights grew ever brighter and more intense, and the scenes below them, the glimpses, grew even more revealing, more elaborate, more significant. As I watched them, they became deeply personal moments, moments that should have never seen the light of day.

Beneath one light was a little colt crying out for his missing father, nopony to comfort him.

Beneath the next was a group of young foals, unicorns and pegasi, bullying an earth pony that couldn’t even defend himself.

In the next cone of light was a tired-looking mare scolding her son into submission for something that was hardly worth the punishment.

Underneath the next spotlight was a teenage unicorn forcing himself on an innocent and terrified colt, scarring him for life.

In the next light, the space was filled by the imposing figure of a griffon, thrashing some unidentifiable form cowering on the ground below him.

The next, a colt meeting a mare for the first time, and the mare cheating on him behind his back.

Below the next was a defeated and pain-stricken stallion, hoping that alcohol and drugs could make him forget the past and deaden the hurt.

And below even another streetlight was a single payphone box with its receiver dangling off the hook, the mare on the other end calling out endlessly for a stallion that wasn’t there.

And the streetlights continued, beneath each something different. Light blurred together, scenes moving by at a rapid pace, each one a moment caught wild-eyed in the revealing spotlight. Every moment of pain, every moment of joy, every passing second revealed more and more of some stranger’s life.

And as the carriage turned a corner, there was one last cone of light. Inside of the beam, collapsed on the brick sidewalk, was a pink stallion. He looked up at me with wild and staring eyes and then disappeared from view. I was struck with the eerie feeling that he could see right through the tinted windows, right into me.

We continued down the new street. There were no more lights, no more ponies on the street to be caught in them.

Canterlot was dark.

And I felt empty.

Alone.

Sad.

Tired.

Confused.

Afraid.

Betrayed.

Angry.

I wasn’t sure why.

“That’s just it, isn’t it?” The voice reverberated around the small carriage, but Short didn’t seem to notice it. He continued looking out the window, chin rested on a hoof, lost in thought.

A face loomed out of the shadows across from me, and soon a body, a whole pony, was sitting in front of me, next to Short. The stallion looked at me with predatory eyes and smoothed back his mane.

“Who’re you?” I wanted to ask him. I moved my mouth to make the words, but no sound came out.

The gray stallion with pink eyes smiled. “It was horrible, isn’t it?” He continued without acknowledging me. “Your life wasn’t fair at all. You father went and abandoned you, your mother was overbearing and intimidating, your teachers were abusive, and your wife was unfaithful and lied to you.” He paused, his smile fading. “You were beaten down, beaten up, raped, terrified, confused, a victim of racism, and a whole host of other unspeakable acts, and you took it all and locked it away inside. Doesn’t all that make you angry; doesn’t it boil your blood? Isn’t it maddening, isn’t it unfair? Your whole life, you’ve been abused and you’ve done nothing in retaliation!”

I wanted to say something, anything, but I couldn’t. There was something bubbling to the front of my mind as the stallion spoke, something I should have remembered but hadn’t. Memories that were my own, but lived by somepony that wasn’t me.

I could remember my father’s death, my mother’s restrictive control over my life, but none of it was me. It was like watching somepony else, somepony pink, carry out my life.

And through it all, I felt an unfamiliar anger begin to find its way into my mind.

The stallion’s pink eyes flashed as he leaned in closer, and I found myself leaning in with him, hanging on his every word. I could see my own gray eyes reflected in his. “Don’t you think it’s time for a change?” he growled. “All that anger, all that hate, that misanthropy, sadness, pain, confusion, paranoia, and all those secret fantasies of revenge have been bottled up inside that head of yours for so long. Don’t you think it’s time to let it all out? Don’t you think it’s time to show them the consequences of their years of abuse? Take the stage and show the world what it’s done. Hurt them, make them suffer the way everyone did to you.” He glanced next to him, at Short, and wrapped a hoof around his neck, but the pegasus didn’t react. The mysterious stallion smiled, flashing his teeth. “They don’t deserve anything less.”

The stallion vanished between a blink of my eyes and left everything in silence. His words echoed inside my mind, filling me up. Memories of cruelty and betrayal bounced around inside my head, only serving to fan the fire that was slowly building up.

It wasn’t right. No one had shown me any love, any sympathy. The world, everyone I knew, everything I’d been through, had done nothing but hurt and deceive me.

I only had myself.

I couldn’t trust anypony, anyone, anything else.

They all deserved to die after what they’d done to me. All those years of mistreatment, all that pain. They were all to blame.

Something gray stirred in my chest.

I stared at the pegasus across from me with veiled disgust. He was still looking out that window, a worried look splattered across his face, his hoof tapping anxiously on the seat next to him.

What did he have to be really worried about?! His life was perfect! The fucker wouldn’t know pain if it clamped its cruel jaws around his head and swallowed him whole. The pathetic, innocent, little cloudwalker had his tail in a twist.

It took all the will I could muster not to punch that expression off of his face, to show him how the world really worked. He wouldn’t understand. He would be scared to see how rough life really was.

Nopony cared about you. Not ever. And those closest to you hurt you the most.

I had to find that out the hard way.

Outside, a large stadium loomed into view out of the night. We passed by the entrance, and I saw a few dozen ponies, stragglers, clamoring outside the entrance, anxious to be let in. Security guards stood outside of large gates, checking each and every pony for any sort of concealed weapon or illegal item before letting them in.

One mare stood on the corner of the pavement, selling tickets to the show. As we turned the corner and headed for a back alley, a guard walked up to her and told her to stop scalping. The mare refused, yelling to a group of passerbys to buy her tickets, and the guard grabbed her by her mane and hauled her off, kicking and screaming.

The carriage moved forward for another minute before grinding to a halt by the backstage entrance. “We’re here,” said Short, giving a small sigh. He turned to face me, smiling, before opening the door and stepping out into the back alleyway. “Come on, Pink, it’s time to go.”

I gritted my teeth and stayed in the carriage. “My name’s not Pink.”

The pegasus stopped, looking at me. “Yeah it is.” He chuckled. “Now come on, stop foolin’ around. You gotta show to get to.”

A guttural bark of a laugh escaped my lips. “I don’t take orders from nopony, and certainly not from fucking winged freaks of nature like you!” I moved closer to Short with each word, until I was inches from his own stunned face. I stabbed a hoof at his chest, our hot breath visible in the night air. “My name’s Gray, and don’t forget it again!”

I shoved the pegasus aside and clambered out of the carriage, shooting a dirty look at the driver, daring him to do something. The lowly peasant gulped, fear visible in his eyes, and anxiously looked away. He was smart to do so.

Behind me, the insolent bastard Short spoke up, finally coming out of whatever stupor he was in. “What’s gotten into you, Pink? I know you would never say somethin’ like tha’.” He placed a hoof on my shoulder.

I stopped dead in my tracks and spun around, throwing the dirty pegasus to the ground. “Don’t you dare touch me again! You and your ilk have done enough to me!”

Short staggered to his hooves, wings flapping in irritation. “What are you talking about? You’re not thinkin’ straight, Pink. Those drugs must be messin’ with you.”

I circled him, a malicious grin finding its way onto my snout. “Oh, I’m perfectly lucid, Short.” I spat his name at him. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don’t act like you don’t remember those years after the war when you pegasi and those racist, magic-using hornheads attacked me just because you could.”

I coolly readjusted the leather jacket I was wearing before looking the pegasus right in the eyes. “You, and everyone else, all are gonna get your punishment. You’ll all get what you deserve,” I took a step forward, “and I’m gonna be the one who’s gonna do it.” I cackled and twirled around, towards the stadium, full of so many ready to be hurt like they had me.

“Hey! Don’t walk away!” came Short’s ever-irritating shout. After everything I had done, everything I told him, still he persisted. I scowled and ignored the pegasus.

In front of me was the entrance to the backstage of the stadium, a shining light amid the darkness of the backstreet. Even outside the building, a cacophony of sound could be heard as the audience chattered away excitedly, ready for when I would take the stage, even if it wouldn’t turn out the way they expected it to.

As I approached the door, a gust of cool air rushed over my shaven head, and Short landed on the ground in front of me in a flutter of wings, blocking my path. We stared at each other, before he spoke. “Pink, please. I—”

“What did I just tell you!?” I snarled. “My name is Gray! Pink isn’t here anymore, sunshine!” My patience was already worn thin and the weakling horsefly wasn’t helping it any. I was dangerously close to beating the bastard if he didn’t learn his place soon enough.

The pegasus took a step back, visibly frightened at my expression, but still held his ground. “Pink, what are you doing?”

I stared at him and twisted my neck slightly, the bones audibly popping. I took a deep breath. “Get out of my way, you overgrown feather duster.”

The pegasus looked up at me defiantly, his short stature making him laughable at best. “Oh yeah? Or wha—”

I took a step forward and rammed him into the wall, pinning him against it. He struggled for a moment, trying to push off the wall with his wings and hindlegs, but I pressed down on his neck, choking him, stopping him. His eyes were wide with fear and he grabbed at my hooves, trying to remove them from his neck.

I smiled arrogantly at him. “Don’t. Get. In. My. Way. Again. Get it, short stuff? Next time, I’ll do much worse.” The pegasus sputtered and gently nodded his head as best he could. “Good.” I said, and let him go.

The pegasus fell to the ground, coughing and clutching at his neck. He looked up at me, tears evident on his face. I scoffed at the bastard’s pathetic cries and straightened my jacket again and brushed a bit of dust from the patch sewn on the sleeve, a half-red, half-white record disk, my cutie mark. My gaze lingered on it for a second, but then I shook my head and slammed a hoof into the pegasus, who whimpered and curled up further into a ball from the impact.

I turned away from him, shoving my sunglasses on in the process, and walked down the hallway to the stadium.

I had a show to get ready for.

Author's Note

Based on “The Show Must Go On”

Chapter Twenty: The Show

Chapter Twenty

The Show

The air was white and silent save for the sharp sound of my hooves on the tile and the humming of the fluorescent lights above. I strode through the hall with steely purpose, toward my manifest destiny beyond the door at the far end. The half-red, half-white colors that the brick walls were painted in seemed to seep together under the lights into one, solid pink mass.

As the end of the hall grew ever closer, the silence gave way to the muffled roar of the crowd as they waited for their show to begin. Even through the wall, I could hear their excited cheers and chants biting into my brain, forming the beginnings of a headache.

There was a door to my left that was wide open. The lights inside were off, but I could still see the outline of desks and potted plants through the gloom and fog. The fan on the ceiling was lazily spinning, always in a circle. There was a stack of boxes in the corner, teetering on their edge.

I walked past the doorway and many others like it as I approached the end of the hall. Before I could even reach out and open them, the large double doors swung open and a stallion tangled up in a jumble of wires slunk out, nodding absentmindedly in my direction. I scowled after him and pushed through the opening, entering the backstage.

I ran a hoof over what remained of my mane and permitted myself a grin. Stagehands scuttled about, ferrying cables and equipment from one place to another, or from another to one place. Speakers were strewn high on the sides of the stage, wires trailing over the entire floor. Hot, bright lights in the rafters and on stands and frames scared away all the shadows.

In the middle of the stage, surrounded by instruments, was a group of other ponies dressed in showy, flashy garb. Musicians. Bleeding hearts and artists. Six stallions, one mare, were gathered in a circle, inspecting over their guitars, or drums, or keyboards, making sure everything was perfect. There was one stallion in particular, a scrawny, red hornhead that I remembered was named Ox, who seemed particularly impertinent and offensive.

My head turned away from them, and instead looked at the large velvet curtain that separated the stage from the crowd. Their incessant chanting leaked out from behind it. “Pink! Pink! Pink! Pink!” That weakling name turned into a mantra; each repetition like a hammer banging inside my skull.

I swept back the far edge of the curtain and peered out into that convulsing mass of ponies in the stadium. Thousands of colors, shades and shapes filled both the field and the stands, all meshing together like one being. The unicorns and earth ponies were the most prevalent, stuffing up the outside like a blocked artery. I could even see some of those dimwitted zebras and mules packed in with the ponies. The pegasi and brutish griffons oppressed the air, flitting back and forth above the heads of the lesser beings below them. Harsh arena lighting spilled over the throng of bodies, heightening their already harsh, vibrant coat colors to something that was almost unbearable to look at if I wasn’t wearing sunglasses.

So many had turned out on this night. Each one was sitting there expecting the musical performance of a lifetime that wasn’t going to happen.

They were all at fault. I could see it in their shimmering eyes that they needed to be disciplined. They dared to call themselves ponies, civilized, but they were far less than that, I knew. I could see. I could hear. They were the vile scum of society, they were beasts, the cause for so many years of misfortune and pain.

As I watched, I could see a green unicorn mare with a fiery mane hanging off the shoulders of another stallion. A dark blue pegasus stallion dressed in armor wading through the crowd, only to vanish from sight forever. A young orange colt was holding down foals, doing unspeakable things to them. A group of foals bullied any others who got in their way, especially those different from them. An old, pink mare with a heart as cold as the night was disappointed in everything around her. A grizzled griffon torturing those around him, laughing all the while.

They were all going to pay.

My eyes alighted on one stallion in particular, one or two rows back. While the rest of the audience seemed preoccupied with the prospect of the show that was soon to start, the stallion’s flashing pink eyes were staring in my general direction. A smug grin was plastered on his face, as though he knew something nopony else knew, as if he was better than all the rest.

The stallion’s coat was a dull gray, the same as how I felt inside. His dark brown mane was cut close to his head, and though I couldn’t see his tail, I could only assume it was similar. He readjusted a black leather jacket and stared through at me.

“Pink?” There was a slight tap on my back, and I turned at the touch ready to discipline whoever it was, but the anger fizzled away the moment I saw the pale, white form of Princess Celestia looming over me. She smiled at me, just a little too strained, too politely.

“Celestia.” I said flatly, offering my own fake smile in return. I didn’t bow. I looked her in the eye as best I could. Here was the pony responsible for the war that killed hundreds of thousands and ruined countless lives. She was a villain if I ever saw one, worse than the real enemy. I felt a biting comment rise to my lips, but I stopped myself and let it drip back down.

Her smile slipped away for a brief second, and then returned with a vengeance. “I trust you are doing well, Pink? I figured it would be appropriate to visit before your concert, being that it is in honor of the Summer Sun Celebration and, by extension, me.” She paused and turned, and motioned for me to join her by her side with a flick of her head. I hesitated at first, but then forced my legs forward.

“I think this is a wondrous thing you are doing, Pink.” she continued, looking out over the backstage and the ponies. “I understand that you’re doing twenty-five performances all over Equestria in the thirty days leading up to the Celebration itself, all for charity. It is truly a selfless act to donate all of the profits. Doing that many shows in that many days would wear down anypony. Even me.” She giggled. I didn’t. “Especially when you’re not even going to make any money.”

I nodded, but didn’t say anything. I knew when to pick my battles, and slandering the princess directly in front of her was not a smart move, even if my anger and annoyance with her was slowly coming to a point.

The mask she wore concealed her true identity, but I could see through the aged porcelain, and I knew, deep down, she didn’t care. She had had ages to craft it, and countless others before it, but it wasn’t good enough for me.

My own mask covered my feelings of loathing for her and her own. I kept my face expressionless and tried my best to quell the urge to lift a hoof and shatter that mask that covered hers, so everything else could see her for what she was.

But if the princess noticed anything wrong, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she sighed, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. “Regrettably,” she picked up, “I will not be able to attend your final concert back here again, on the eve of the Celebration itself, as I will be down in Ponyville for the actual raising of the sun.” She stopped again. “Being the 1000th instance, I do expect it to be quite the departure from the previous years.”

I chuckled, finally speaking up. “I doubt tonight will be much like what everyone is expecting either.”

She looked down at me, and I felt as if she was going to say something, but changed her mind at the last second. “I must admit,” she said instead, “I do quite like your music. It is a lovely departure from orchestral arrangements that continually pervades Canterlot. It is not strange to find one of the castle servants humming your songs in the hallways most of the time. Even I find your songs stuck in my head some days.”

She smiled another one of her practiced smiles and waited for me to say something. But I didn’t speak a word, my only response a gentle flick of the ear. I wasn’t going to be amenable with her just because she was the ruler.

The princess nodded and stepped away from me. “I’ll leave you be now, Pink. I’m sure you have a lot to prepare before you go on.” Her mane shone even brighter in the glow of the spotlights. “I had a very nice time speaking with you. I look forward to seeing your show.”

She gave one last smile, dipped her head, and turned to leave, presumably to head up to her special, private viewing box positioned high above the heads of everypony else.

But then she stopped and looked back at me, her expression hidden by her mane. “Is everything alright, my little pony?” A different mask, this one meant to look kind and tender, disguised her face, her soul, but it did little to hide the fact she wasn’t the least bit concerned.

“I’m fine.” My voice echoed around my own mask, my head, my ears.

But she didn’t stop. “I sense that there is something off about you tonight. Something is troubling you, is it not? Are you feeling alright?"

I gently shook my head. “I’m fine. Really.” I turned from her and walked away, ignoring the bitch and her fake concern. She didn’t care. She never cared. If she had truly cared about her citizens, then why were the letters she sent out to the widowed mares and fatherless foals all copies of one another and signed with the same featureless stamp?

Celestia stared at me as I went away from her. I could feel her gaze on the back of my neck. But she was persistent in her act. “I have been alive for a very long time, Pink. I can tell when a pony is in distress.”

I stopped, but continued to face away from her. “I’m perfectly fine. Nothing to worry about.”

Several minutes passed, and when I looked back, she wasn’t there. My hooves felt weak unexpectedly, and I stood, swaying slightly, and just stared at the curtain that separated me from that rabble outside.

There was a noise, a floorboard squeaking as somepony trod over it. I looked over at it; the tip of it bent upwards at an odd angle, missing at least one of its nails. All it needed was to be hammered back into place.

Eventually, someone called for the show to start. I gave one last glance to the curtain and made my way to center stage. My band mates stared at me as I passed by them and they passed by me, varying emotions and thoughts crossing their faces. One almost opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it, obviously thinking better of it.

As they got settled in with their equipment and instruments, I stood in the center of the stage, staring straight ahead at the expansive curtain again. Beyond it was unpredictable. Beyond was chaos. Beyond was evil.

And the stage emptied of bodies as anypony not supposed to be there scurried off. The lights dimmed, and with a sharp click, flickered off, leaving the stage in near darkness, save for radiant light from outside the curtain.

The show was about to begin.

After a pregnant and silent pause, the lights outside darkened as well, and everything was quiet and black. One of my legs twitched.

I breathed out.

I breathed in.

The heady curtains parted, revealing the inferior crowd beyond. Smoke roiled off the edge of the stage, blanketing the first few rows in a dense, humid fog. I could make out a few silhouettes through it, shifting uncomfortably, struggling to find a glimpse of us through the sudden mist.

They all looked so happy, so carefree.

I hated it.

I hated them.

I despised them.

The scowl on my face deepened as one of the band behind me began muttering a near silent count-in for the opening song. I glowered out past the microphone stand in front of me at that crowd of miscreants, killers, and thugs. They wavered, their smiles turning malicious, their eyes flashing.

As the stallion’s voice hit two, the orchestra situated off to the right began to swell into the intro for the song. The silence was slowly pushed away by warbling strings, shrill clarinets, and bugle horns. Everything was still. Everything was calm. For once.

I stole another breath of air.

The overhead lights burst on, bringing light to the dark. An organ blared out in the night, accompanied by the pounding of drums and the wailing of a guitar. The crowd cheered as the music sweltered upwards, and I reared up on two legs, splaying my forehooves wide.

The heat under the spotlights was nigh unbearable. I could feel it pounding on the top of my head and on my back. If it was any hotter, the floorboards might’ve caught on fire. The plastic was beginning to melt.

I smiled, still balanced on two legs, and crossed my forehooves in front of my face in an x, before falling back down to the stage with a thud. I strode closer toward the microphone, into yet another revealing spotlight. I watched as a few in the crowd copied my gesture, motioning their own x.

The music flooded on and fireworks sprouted around the edge of the stage, sending sparks high into the air, across the stage, and into the crowd. They were roaring their approval, not even a minute into the song yet. Pathetic cretins.

A flash of gray caught my eye. The stallion from earlier was staring into me with his large, pink, unwavering vulture eyes. Our gazes connected for a split second and then I wafted over him and turned my eyes up, at the princess, lording down from on high.

At the back of the stadium, several stories above the heads of the highest rows of bleachers, above even the highest stadium lights, sat the white bitch in her tower. Everything was her fault as well. Graveyards would have been littered with fewer stones if she had done her job better. Families would still be together if she had been a little more responsible. The countryside would still be alive if she was at all competent.

Around me, the music stopped abruptly, replaced immediately by a chorus of voices from the left, all singing out in harmony. The crowd stared with rapturous attention and I stared at them from behind my sunglasses, their colors dull, the light muted. Their smiling faces made my blood boil, because I knew it was all a farce. They weren’t as innocent and carefree as they looked. They and Celestia all practiced their smiles. They all had their masks.

I clasped the microphone, leaning into it, supporting myself. Their grins grew wider. They were laughing at my misfortune, my past. Laughing at what they had done to me, proud of the pain they inflicted. I could see it in their eyes.

Soon enough, the point when I should have begun singing came and went, and still I was standing there, unmoving, unflinching. The band behind me hissed at me, trying to get my attention, trying to get me to do something. As the choir faded out, the instruments began to improvise to keep the song alive, with the hope I would dance for them soon.

But I had cut my puppet strings. I wasn’t a small, pink stuffed doll that they could torture for their amusement any longer. I had wised up, and now it was their turn for a taste of their own medicine. I wasn’t about to be trod on anymore.

There were murmurings out in the audience. They could sense that something was wrong, that things weren’t meshing together. Their splitting grins sunk down a bit, their laughter dying away. There was something in their feeble minds that sensed something was about to happen.

I chuckled at the sight, only to have the microphone broadcast my gruff laugh throughout the stadium and into the blooming stars above. I could feel myself smiling a wild and crazy smile that matched what theirs was. The worthless sacks of shit that dared to call themselves ponies, with their happy exteriors, and bright colors, and black-as-sin souls inside ignited a fire in my belly. I hated them with every fiber of my being.

They needed to feel the same pain they had inflicted on me. They were all guilty.

And that thought coursed through my mind, filling my body with a vigor that made my skin crawl. I gazed out over the crowd, my muzzle still divided in a wide grin. The band behind me slowly ground to a halt as it became evident that I was not going to be singing.

“So what?!” I bellowed into the microphone, eliciting a few startled reactions from the crowd. “What, you thought you’d like to come to this show?!” My voice resonated around the suddenly hushed stadium, a few lingering, discordant notes from the band fading out into obscurity as everyone was shocked into silence.

“So, you all wanted to feel this warm thrill of confusion?!” A hoarse, half-scream, half-laugh wormed its way past my lips. “Ha! You wanted to feel this warm, fuzzy glow?!” My face distorted in a cruel rage, visibly reflected in the faces of the ponies before me. I laughed again, giggled even, at their expressions.

I moved closer to the edge of the stage, dragging the mic stand along with me, and the front few rows shrunk backwards in fright, nearly crushing those behind them. Cowards. Weaklings, the lot of them. If they couldn’t even take some unscheduled shouting and degradation, what were they going to do later?

“Well!” I scoffed over the crowd, my eyes looking out at everyone, seeing everything they had ever done. There, all over, was the scum of Equestria, the cause of so much misery; the worthless, and the impure.

Those pegasi , earth ponies and unicorns, always fighting amongst themselves, The hornheads and cloudwalkers all ganging up on the poor earth ponies, beating us within inches of our lives. They thought they were so superior, but they were nothing more than bullies flaunting their power. And yet, the earth ponies weren’t honorable either. They had done their share of abuses and evils.

Those griffons, zebras and donkeys were all so different than us Equestrians. What right did they have to live here, tainting this land with their mere presence and impure blood? For all of this nation’s depravity, these outsiders were even worse, spreading across the land like a pestilence. They needed crawl back into whatever disease-ridden hole they came from or face the consequences.

And then there were those fags, criminals, alcoholics, dykes and drug-users that stunk up the place with their filth and lawless ways. The lot of them were tainted, broken, and deserved to be put down like the animals they were.

I twirled around to see my band staring at me with thinly veiled confusion and concern. I stared at them through the darkness of my sunglasses and gave a wide smile. They were just as bad as everypony else. They had never cared about me. Only the fame I garnered, my status, my money. I snarled at them, pawing at the ground, daring them to make a move against me.

And the fuckers turned tail and ran, rather than face any sort of responsibility, any sort of possibility. They didn’t want to risk anything, unless they knew it was in their favor.

I turned back and walked to the edge of the stage, taking my rightful place in my domain. I looked out at their confused faces and then up at the VIP box, at the speck of white and rainbow that was Celestia.

“Well!” I started again, more forcibly than before, “I’ve got some bad news for you, sunshines! Pink,” I spat the name out, “isn’t feeling too well! He stayed back at the hotel, locked away in the walls!” I gestured behind me, chuckling softly. “And he sent me along as his surrogate tonight! And now, we’re gonna find out where you fans really stand!”

In the crowd, a bright orange unicorn stallion suddenly appeared, slithering his way through the bodies, preying on other young stallions. His head jerked up suddenly and his vile eyes stared at me, and he smiled.

My grip on the microphone tightened, and I found myself grinding my teeth together. “Tell me,” I bellowed, “are there any of those queers in the audience tonight?!” I felt the orange stallion’s hooves running over my body, his breath on the nape of my neck. “Well, get them up against the wall! Get them outta here!” I gestured wildly, my hooves trembling slightly from sheer anger.

I pointed out into the audience, at some yellow stallion, who was caught in a spotlight. I could just tell he was gay. “Right there! There’s one in the spotlight! He don’t look right to me! Get him up against the wall! Line him up with the others!”

I spat into the audience in anger, my mannerisms growing ever more erratic. The crowd stared up at me, unblinking, unresponsive. I wasn’t sure if they just didn’t care or if they were still defying me, even to their end.

“And I see all you drunks, homewreckers and druggies standing out there, baking under the lights! None of you even deserve to be alive! Get up against the wall! Just kill yourselves, so I don’t have to do it for you!”

A griffon flittered on the edges of my vision, mocking me. He leered at me over the glasses perched on the tip of his beak. The spotlight wavered around the audience, catching other despicable bastards in its glow.

“That one looks like a racist!” Some donkey. “And that featherhead cheats on her husband! I can see it in her eyes! And that griffon looks like he beats his children!” The crowd began to shrink back from me. “Who let all this fucking riff-raff into the room, huh!? Get them all up against the wall!” My bellow cascaded out from the speakers, flowing out into every cranny in the stadium.

The ponies in the front row looked at me with eyes and finally turned, realizing that I wasn’t about to let them hurt me any longer. I was a different pony than I was before. Some mare with a flaming red mane grabbed some stallion who clearly wasn’t her husband and pushed through the crowd, away from me.

I cackled. “That one’s smoking a joint!” Some lowly dirtpony. “And that one’s got stripes!” A zebra. “That colt looks like a delinquent!” I pointed at a unicorn. “I can tell that one abandoned his family!” Some blue pegasus stallion with glasses.

I heaved the microphone away, practically throwing it and the stand hallway across the stage. “You know what!?” I screamed, my voice reverberating over the cacophony of voices from the audience even without the amplification. “If I had my way, I’d have all of you killed! Right here! Right on the spot! You fuckers don’t deserve to even breathe the same air I do! Everyone line up against the wall!”

Their faces stared up at me, distraught and confused and happy and surprised and angry and scared. I again caught a glimpse of that gray stallion with pink eyes watching me from the crowd, and then he was gone.

“And you!” I jabbed a hoof at some black soul as the spotlight illuminated him. “You’ll have to die too! I can see that you raped somepony!” I pointed at another. “You!” I slid a hoof across my neck, imitating his beheading. “And you too!” Some guilty stallion, who looked bewildered at my actions. “Yes you! Stand still, laddie! Don’t even think of moving!”

Light illuminated each and every eye in front of me, and I could see all their sin, like a glimpse through a window. They all were to blame.

Flashes of different faces, different emotions, flickered in and out. Some of their masks shattered, their ugly interiors finally showing through their brightly painted covers.

My eyes were momentarily drawn from the mass of degenerates to a smudge of color at the very top of the stadium.

“And don’t think you’re not at fault, Celestia!” I pointed up at her private box, lording high above everything else. “You let Equestria fall into war and ruin! You’re supposed to be our ruler, and you sat back and let countless die, when you easily could’ve saved them! So many lost family, and what did they get?! A letter of condolence and a few bits?! You deserve to be thrown in with the lot of them! Fuck you too!”

If she responded in any way, I didn’t hear or see her over shocked gasps from the crowd. All spotlights swiveled over to me, blinding me in a blaze of warmth and light. All eyes were on me.

“Tell me,” I shouted, “are there any paranoids here tonight!? Is there anypony here who worries about things!?” They didn’t move. I didn’t blink. “Pathetic, the lot of you!” I rose up on my hindlegs, snorting in disgust. “Is there anybody here who’s weak!?” The crowd all shrunk back from my question, answering without having to say a word.

I landed back on my four hooves and prowled the edge of the stage, my mannerisms growing ever more erratic. “Fuck you all!” I roared. “Fuck all of you and what you’ve done! To answer my question, you’re all weak, preying on others just because you can!” I thrust the microphone stand into the audience, hitting several ponies and sending them staggering into several others behind them. A cackle rose in my throat, leaking and echoing in the air.

A hoof gripped my shoulder and twisted me around, bringing me face to face with a disgruntled Short and some nameless unicorn guard. Short flinched at whatever he saw in my face, but then forced a smile on his own. He was as good of a pretender as the rest. “Pink…” he began, “Why don’t you jus’ calm down now, a’ight?” He put a hoof on my shoulder.

I shunted him away. “Fuck you too! You’re no better than them!” I gestured at the crowd behind. “You don’t tell me what to do, cloudwalker! Didn’t I beat that into you already!?”

The pegasus bit his lip and exchanged a look with the guard. “Come on now, mate. Whatever’s goin’ on, it’s gone far enough, don’t you think?”

I chuckled. “It hasn’t even started yet.” I turned to the guard, thrusting a hoof in his face. “And don’t you try to stop me, you got that? I’ve endured enough cruelty by your kind.”

The stallion pushed my hoof aside, his horn beginning to shimmer. “I’m sorry, sir. If you don’t calm down, I’m afraid I’ll have to restrain you.” He took a step forward. “You just slandered the princess right in front of her. You’re acting irrationally, and verbally and physically attacking ponies. You’re a public nuisance. This sort of behavior is not accepted. On the princess’ orders, and only on her orders, I would rather not have to take you by force but I will if I have to.”

I smiled and leaned in close. “What? Did Celestia think only one unicorn would be enough to subdue one lowly earth pony?” And I gripped his horn before he could react and slammed it into the wooden floor, embedding it in the boards, knocking him unconscious. “She should’ve sent more.”

Short took a step forward. “Pink! Stop this now! You’re hurtin’ ponies!”

I peered at the pegasus over my sunglasses. “I know. They deserve it after all that they’ve done.” I glanced back at the crowd to see them watching the show onstage with rapt attention. They may have been scared at their loss of control, but they were more interested in what I would do next. Their loss. They were about to be amused to death.

I grinned ear to ear and strolled over to a bank of speakers on the side of the stage. I waved lazily into the crowd and then knocked a large subwoofer down to the ground, sending sparks scattering across the floorboards and a high-pitched feedback whine shooting through the ears of anypony in range. “So, you all think this is funny, huh?!” I asked them, as I knocked over another speaker, this time off the stage, but not into the crowd. “Are you all entertained by this?”

I bent down a gripped some wires, tearing them from the equipment they were attached to. “You’re even worse than I thought! Is it fun watching me destroy things?! Huh?” I knocked over a stand of guitars and smashed them to splinters under my hooves. “Are you all having a good time!?” I picked up a mostly intact guitar neck and slung it wildly into the audience. A few screamed.

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry,” I chided, “did you not enjoy that!? I thought you liked stuff like that!?” I kicked one of the fog machines over the edge of the stage, but it missed anyone. “Don’t worry, sunshines, everything’s gonna be alright! You can trust me!” I went to throw another amplifier at them, but Short came out of nowhere, tackling me across the stage with the full force of his wingpower behind him.

We slammed into the floor, right on top of that squeaky board. I struggled against his grip, but he held me firm with the flapping of his wings. “Pink.” I could see my own reflection in his eyes. “Pink, please stop this. Whatever’s wrong, I can help you.”

I snorted. “Nothing can help now, except seeing all these impure bastards get what they deserve.” I tried to push him off me one more time, but he was strong and solidly built for a midget. I guess he was compensating.

After a few seconds of futile thrashing, I knew what I had to do. I relaxed my muscles momentarily, making sure he felt it, and so lessened his own grip, and then lashed out, taking a deep bite from his foreleg.

I shoved him off of me as he yelled in pain and cradled his gushing wound. I sprang to my hooves and rushed at him before he could recuperate and thrust him right off of the stage. The pegasus fell the short distance to the ground and landed on some electrical cord, yanking a large standing spotlight down onto heads of some unsuspecting ponies, where it exploded in a cascade of sparks and fire. I spit on his body. “And my name’s not Pink.”

And then they all screamed, finally broken out of whatever trance they were under. The mass rushed towards the exit, trying to get away from the monster up on stage. Some were trampled by the others who were too panicked to realize any better.

I looked out over the throbbing mass of terrified animals and laughed. “What’s the matter?!” I yelled. “I thought you all liked that sorta stuff?! Let’s all have a clap for me! Come on, I can’t hear you! PUT YOUR HOOVES TOGETHER! HAVE A GOOD TIME! ENJOY YOURSELVES! AAAAAAAHHHHEHEHEEH!”

I stood on the edge of the stage, in the center of a spotlight as the other lights shut off behind me. I tugged on my jacket, making sure it was straight, before leaping down to the floor below, prowling after the ponies as they tried to leave. “That’s right!” I screeched at the crowd. “You better run! I’m gonna get all of you! You’re all gonna pay!”

“This is my night tonight, sunshines!” I stepped over the unconscious form of Short, giving him one last kick. A fire that had spawned from the fallen light billowed up one half of the curtains, casting an orange glow over everything.

“And you all better run like hell!”

Author's Note

Based on “In the Flesh”

Chapter Twenty-One: Nerves in Tatters

Chapter Twenty-One

Nerves in Tatters

They pushed away from me, fleeing out the doors and into the lobby. They were packed tight in the halls like the scared, wide-eyed animals they were, pushing against each other in their flight. Hooves, bodies were trod on, yelps and screams worming through the air.

They were nothing more than frightened, wild beasts, when it came down to it.

I calmly followed behind the frightened, taking in that distinct smell of fear. There was some lone, green pegasus lying on the cold ground, trampled on by its fellows. It looked up at me, a small whimper escaping its mouth, before I kicked it in the head, knocking it unconscious, and stepped over its body.

I burst through the double doors that led to the lobby and skidded to a halt. They were all swarming about, trying to get out the doors and into the night with little regard for any other. Some of the event staff were trying in vain to stop the tide, or at least prevent any injury or damage, but it was pandemonium.

Near me, some of those that were leaving noticed my presence and quickened their pace, throwing glances behind them. Some small foals and teens were being herded by their parents, away from what had happened, from me. Several fans, dressed to the hilt in memorabilia and shirts with my stage name emblazoned on them, sat crying on the sidelines, their posters ripped in half and their dreams shattered.

I smiled.

A few stadium security guards entered the room, beginning to shepherd the crowd outside in a timelier manner, and, I could only assume, looking for me as well. I slunk away from them and out one of the doors, shoving past whoever was in my way.

Outside, the panic that had been present before had now mostly settled into general agitation, annoyance, and gloom. The crowd outside milled about, unsure where to go or what to do now that their entertainment had been lost. Many of them were angry that their night had been ruined, distraught, even.

I stopped and spun in place as something caught my eyes. A standing sign was positioned in the middle of the courtyard. ‘Pink Floyd’s Summer Sun Celebration Tour!’ was adorned on it in large letters. The stallion on it, all pink and gray-eyed, wasn’t me.

Next to it was a large cardboard cutout of the not-me, posing, smiling at some unseen distance. His pink coat seemed vibrant, blinding, in the moonlight.

I scowled. It made me sick. With a snort, I reared back and trampled the offending objects, feeling the satisfaction of their destruction by my hooves. It felt almost euphoric, to destroy something. A rush in my veins.

Then, I felt some violent urge rise up within me. There was an uncontrollable hate and anger that made me just want to hurt, to destroy something.

My muscles were tense, my head was light, and I could very much feel the rush of my blood throughout my body.

There were some murmurings behind me. I twirled to see some ponies staring at me, watching on in interest, prying into matters that weren’t theirs. Their natural curiosity. I smiled wide at them, and they backed away, ears flattening, uncertain, surely remembering what had happened moments ago on stage.

I took a step toward the horseflies, aiming to beat them senseless for their mere presence. I needed to hit something. Anything. There was an insatiable itch. Only, before I got near them, they took to the skies, flying away.

I snorted and slowed to a trot. The aimless herd, having just realized I was in their midst, had now split away from me, watching from the corners of their eyes as they cleared the area, unwilling to get involved, to provoke me any further. Animals.

“Hey!” One of them, a mare, shouted from across the courtyard. I looked at her as she strode through the crowd, eyes brimming with tears. “Who the h-hell,” she hiccuped, “the hell do ya t-think ya are, huh?” She grew closer. “I-I’ve been wa-w-waiting for this ni-night f-for months, an’ ya just had ta go cr-c-crazy, didn’t ya?!”

The mare wiped her eyes. “F-fuck you! You’re h-h-horrible! You s-should b-be ashamed!” She choked back another sob and ground a hoof into the floor, her whole body trembling.

She took another step closer, hesitated for a moment, and then sluggishly lunged at me, crying all the while. I sidestepped her pitiful excuse for an attack and pushed her to the ground, sending her sprawling, and eliciting a few whispers from the gathered crowd, who were all looking on like vultures to a carcass.

I stood over the mare’s body, staring down at her, and then gripped her head and slammed it into the ground. Before I knew, my hooves were around her neck, pressing down on her throat harder and harder and harder.

I felt my skin crawl and my vision grow blurry as the mare gasped for breath and tried to push me off of her. The crowd around me was shouting something, braying and whinnying, but I was only focused on the female in front of me and her slowly dwindling life.

I was yelling something, screaming, ranting, but what, I couldn’t tell. There was nothing but this feeling of absolute rage filling me to my brim. The rush of blood in my ears blocked out everything else.

My grip on her neck grew even tighter, and her terrified face was the only thing I could see, and—

I blinked.

There was an alarm blaring somewhere.

Blood was dripping from the broken glass in front of me.

I backed away, but winced as I put pressure on my right hoof.

Looking down, I saw fresh blood covering it. My own.

The alarm grew steadily louder and I looked back up. There was an advertisement in the intact part of the window promoting twenty percent off all items in the store.

My gaze focused on the mannequins standing in the now broken display case of the department store, specks of blood standing out in contrast on their light-colored clothes.

I glanced around. No one on the street.

The store’s alarm cut through the night.

I looked back at the window and something in my body burned. I reared back and knocked out more of the glass, just enough to crawl through without getting injured. Ignoring my injured hoof, I leapt into the display case.

Laughing, I knocked over the mannequins and tore apart their perfect clothing. Red smeared on the fabric and floor and walls, painting a grotesque picture. I stomped all over their precious niceties, destroying the entire display and throwing it out onto the street, before clambering further into the store.

I ran through the building, yanking expensive, frilly clothing off the shelves and off the racks and tearing them to shreds. I shoved displays to the ground, spilling merchandise all over the floor. Bloody hoofprints trailed everywhere I stepped.

I cackled again and knocked over a display case onto a row of shelves, toppling them all over, damaging everything on them. Items scattered across the floor, spilling out from whatever boxes or wrappings they were in. Among many other things, a few lighters came to a stop near me when everything had settled down, catching my attention.

My hoof picked one up, experimentally flicking the flame on and off a few times. The fire danced in the darkness, enticing me forward, matching some deep heat inside my own body.

I smiled, and bent down, and set fire to the ruined shelf before me.

Before long, and some coaxing, the blaze had grown strong and had engulfed a significant portion of the store in its cleansing flames.

I watched as it burned, shouting obscenities into the night, drunk with anger and power. Everything—

And then I found myself slumped against some wall on a dark, abandoned road.

I grunted, and unsteadily got back to my hooves.

On the ground beneath me were the remains of some poster, ripped right off the wall I was standing next to.

I took a look at the fragments of the poster, an advertisement for the concert I had just come from.

I snorted in disgust, some force overtaking me, and continued in the direction I was heading.

Almost immediately ahead was a lone carriage parked at the side of the road.

It was an unfortunate decision on the owner’s part to leave it sitting out this night.

I moved forward to try and smash its wheels, or break the windows, or whatever else I could, when a loud, passionate moan escaped from the inside. I stopped and observed the carriage, watching as it shook slightly and another, very feminine wail cut through the night.

I approached the coach and peered in the window. Inside were a stallion and a mare, very much having sex on the seat with little regard for their surroundings.

With a shout, I wrenched the door open and, after a bit of a struggle, dragged the two out into the street, where they landed in a tangle of limbs and confusion.

I immediately grabbed the male and pulled him to his hooves, before throwing him against the side of the carriage and punched him clean across the jaw. He was sent sprawling, but I kept on him and kicked him a few times while he was on the ground.

He coughed, blood coming out, and struggled to get up, but I put an end to that notion with a few more blows. The male fell back down and didn’t try to move again.

At this point, the female had shaken off her initial confusion and was beginning to realize what was happening, so I stalked over to her and began to beat her as well.

She cried out with each hit I landed and tried several times to push me off of her body, but couldn’t. It was then that her horn flared to life and managed to deflect my next blow and hit me in turn.

I jerked back at the unexpected strike and felt the spot on my face where she had hit me, some pain coming away.

I scowled and leapt back at the female, redoubling my efforts, going for her horn straightaway. I was furious that she had even managed to get a hit off on me. Each strike was harder than the last, until she was barely conscious.

I reared back to deliver another punch, and…

I stopped.

Blinked.

The rush in my veins, in my mind, seemed to clear for a moment as I stared down at the mare’s damaged body. I had to choke back the urge to throw up.

I backed away from her and glanced over at the stallion, by the wheels of the carriage. Though he was not in good shape either, I could see the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

And then I looked back at the mare and I felt my heart harden again. Death was too good for these two beasts. There was no need to kill them. The mare groaned and looked up at me briefly before slumping back down, unable to stay conscious any longer.

I left them both there, lying on the pavement. They would probably bleed out soon enough. Whatever happened to them was—

I coughed violently and stumbled a little bit, nearly falling over.

I slowed to a halt, still coughing, and shook my head, clearing away some murkiness that was clouding my thoughts.

The sidewalk below me wavered slightly, but then came into focus.

I stood back up and continued forward.

Identical townhouses passed me by as I went down the street. Each façade painted a picture of normalcy, of happiness. One door was painted a bright blue, flowers hung in a planter on another one’s windows, shrubs and trees were cut nice and neat in a third’s yard.

Inside each, behind their closed doors, families slept peacefully without a care in the world. Stallions and mares who never strived for anything more than what they needed to get by, foals who would spend their afternoons outside playing with their friends in the street and would ultimately take after their parents.

I kicked a nearby mailbox, shattering the post in two.

There was a ball ahead, lying on the sidewalk next to a white-picket fence. I picked it up and let it settle in my hoof, before I flung it as hard as I could into the distance.

The ball flew through the night, illuminated only by wrought-iron streetlamps, hit the ground, bounced off toward a house and smashed through a window with a satisfying crash.

I smiled and spied a hefty rock ahead, spilling out from someone’s garden. I picked it up as well, and this time, threw it directly into the closest window.

One of the lights inside the house came on almost immediately, but I paid it no mind. I grabbed a different rock and hurled it at a streetlight, shattering the bulb inside.

A light came on in a different room of the house whose window I had first broken. I could hear murmurs from inside, but I had already moved on down the road.

I kicked someone’s trashcan over and then leapt over their fence, into their cultivated yard. I stared at all their flowers, their bushes, the few trees they had, and then trampled on them, destroying all the plant life in that yard, and then moved on to the next.

I went through several yards, razing everything in sight, hollering at the top of my lungs. Most of the houses had lights on at this point, all alert for the strange stallion outside, but most too fearful to do anything about it. They were safe inside their caves.

Something caught my eye.

My reflection stared at me from a near window, my eyes emotionless, cold.

I froze for a moment, feeling some unexplainable dread well up inside me. The vandalized homes surrounding me seem to leer at me, judging.

A porch light flickered to life on the house whose yard I was in, illuminating the dark.

I scowled, turning away from my reflection, ground the plants into the dirt one final time and hopped back over the fence.

There was a shout from one of the houses.

I continued down the street, yelling back some response. There was a pause, and then the voice spoke again, angrier, accusatory, judging from its tone. I didn’t understand it.

Looking back, there was some pony standing on the porch, illuminated by the light. It was staring right at me, still screaming something. It tried to walk out to the street, to confront me, but I only laughed at its pitiful attempts and sent another rock flying at the creature, eliciting a yelp of pain from it.

It didn’t speak up again, and I quickly moved away.

Further down, I jumped over a different fence, into a different yard, and fished out that lighter from earlier.

Very deliberately, I flicked on the flame and held it out—

My eyes locked on the scene in front of me. A restaurant, awash with light and high-society pigs. Sounds, laughter, music, ponies, debauchery all trickled out into the night.

Stallion and mare, getting out from a carriage parked out front. Male was helping the female down. Their backs were turned towards me, a perfect opportunity.

I ran at them, screaming, laughing, and shoved them both to the ground.

Without pause, I leapt on the male first, hitting him before he had a chance to retaliate. I slammed a hoof down into his chest and heard something crack. The male cried out in pain, whimpering, but I didn’t let up until I saw the female struggling to her hooves.

Abandoning the male, I turned my attention to his partner. She saw me coming and tried to scream, but I stopped any notion of that very quickly with a firm grip of her throat.

I ripped the tight, lavish dress she was wearing right off her body. She tried to fight against me, her hooves flailing, but I took one of her legs and snapped it right out of place. The mare certainly screamed this time, and I let her.

Behind me, I could hear the stallion trying to do something, mewling in pain, helpless while his mate was being attacked. I ignored him and continued thrashing the mare, my bloodlust much too strong.

But, something grabbed me from behind, pulling me off her prone form. Not the first stallion. Someone new, from the restaurant.

It was making noise, saying something, obviously upset I had hurt the two. I could see it had brought others from his herd, they watched on from behind, unsure what to do.

While my attacker waited for some sort of verbal response from me, I took action and wormed out from the new pony’s grip and grabbed ahold of him myself. I could see the terror in its eyes. It had enough intelligence to connect what I had done to the other two to what I would do to him.

The other members of the pack that followed the second male out didn’t move as I pummeled him, beating his face in. I threw him up against the small stone fence that surrounded the building and laid into him.

Blood dripped down his face and my hooves as I hit him again and again and again and—

The hunt was on.

I spied some pink, weakling of a colt peeking around the edge of a building and then disappear back behind it, probably hoping that I didn’t see him. Probably wanting to pounce on me when I turned my back.

But I had noticed him. I rolled my tongue around in my mouth and slunk forward. I could hear its heavy breathing as I neared the corner.

I leapt out and grabbed for the colt, but it ducked and tried to run away, wailing, back to whatever adults it had foolishly run astray from. It made it about eleven steps before I managed to catch up with it and tackle it to the ground, pinning it there.

It struggled, but I was simply too large for any hope of escape, and it figured that out soon enough. I looked down into its gray eyes, wet with frightened tears, and snarled in its face, baring my teeth. It tried once again to push away, and yelled for help that would come too late.

I grabbed ahold of one of its pink hooves and slammed it down onto the hard concrete, and it shrieked in pain as flesh connected with unyielding concrete. I cackled.

The colt looked up at me, pleading for me to stop, but I didn’t, couldn’t. I broke another one of its legs in the same manner, smiling as I heard the satisfying sound of bone crunching and rolling beneath the skin.

It shuddered in pain again, now too hurt to even cry any more. Its body was limp beneath my hooves, but its eyes were filled with emotion. Terror. Confusion. Betrayal. Loss. Sadness. Anger. Hurt. Emptiness. Each time it blinked, it took longer to open his eyes again.

I stared at the colt, at its pink coat, at its brown mane, at his gray eyes, at his pain.

My eyes blinked.

And my grip lessened, but the colt didn’t have the energy to escape. He didn’t move.

In the reflection of his stricken eyes was my own face, my own gray eyes, my own pink coat. My…

I straightened up and looked around, and saw. I saw destroyed storefronts. I saw injured, horrified ponies. I saw so much pain. So much fear. All because of me.

Flashes of different faces, different emotions, sputtered in and out. Colors bled out and shapes bent and warped. An insufferable buzzing filled my ears. My body felt like ice, so unlike the heat I felt before.

And then, just like that, I was back, my blood surging with some unknown vigor. I looked back at the colt, whose breaths were labored now, and felt a familiar flash of anger buzz through my system. I had to finish the plan. They all needed to die.

I reared up, ready to smash the last remnants of life from the little bastard’s body with my own two hooves. His pained expression brought joy, but I would only be satisfied when his face was destroyed under my hoofprints. I stomped down.

Something pink inside me flinched away.

“NO!” I shouted, yanking my hooves to the side, so that they slammed down onto the ground beside the poor colt instead. I backed away, trembling at what I had almost done.

I stood there, my breath caught in my chest, just staring at the colt as he was gasping for his own air. My eyes were as wide as his were not. His motionless, beaten body wavered, spinning, bleeding out one minute and then smiling cruelly at me the next.

“Fuck!” I gripped my head as it pounded ever harder. It felt as if my brain was unraveling itself inside my skull, squirming around like worms.

He deserved to die, like everything else. Purged.

But why?

Because.

He’s a harmless little child.

All the more reason.

I grit my teeth in burning frustration. I reached down and grasped the neck of the colt and pressed down relentlessly, remorselessly and it only coughed, sputtering up blood. It was in shock.

Only, I let go and closed my eyes, unable to even see, to look. I took a deep breath, and hoped that when I opened my eyes again, everything would be different.

There was blackness.

But when I did look again, I was standing over the colt’s body, my hooves gripping one of his still unharmed legs. I felt the skin and bone give. I couldn’t stop it. I blinked away tears as they formed in my eyes.

I wavered between emotions, between an uncontrollable urge to hurt and a desire to not.

The colt coughed, and I flinched. My hooves rose again, ready to trample the last breath from his lungs, but my legs were trembling. I tried to stop myself, but inch by inch, my forelegs grew closer to the colt.

He had to die. They were animals.

“NO!” I shouted again, throwing myself to the side. “Stop! Stop it!” I clutched at my head, hoping to tear the skin off and stop those worms inside to stop writhing.

I collapsed onto the pavement, next to the colt, our pink coats nigh indistinguishable. Tears were flowing freely now. “S-stop it… I don’t… Please just stop… Please…” I curled into a ball. “No. No, no, no… Please… Stop…”

The ground was cold.

As was the air.

Me too.

I clawed at my eyes, trying to pry them out and throw them away, to some dark corner, so they’d be lost forever. I clutched at my pounding, agonizing head, feeling something gray drop out from under me and something pink rekindle.

I opened my eyes. The colt’s own green eyes were staring back at me. A soft groan passed his mouth, and his yellow chest was shuddering as he breathed, but he didn’t move otherwise.

I sat up, looking down in horror at what I had done, what had almost happened. Leaning in close, I inspected his injuries, his three broken legs, his bruising body, his ravaged throat. I didn’t know what to do. My breathing became shallower. I didn’t know how to help. I could only look down in frozen horror and hope, but I had no hope left. I had no energy left.

What did I do?

Oh, what did I do?

I briefly thought back to the past few hours, struggling to remember what exactly had occurred, but I couldn’t. There were flashes of moments, some terrible acts of violence that shone through, but everything else, all the time in between, was blank.

Most everything was unaccounted for.

And I couldn’t even be sure those few moments I did remember were even true, and not some twisted hallucination. Did I really start a fire? Did I brutally attack some innocent passersby?

I didn’t know.

There was a voice. I could hear it this time, understand it. “Hey! Get away from him!” I hardly found the time to jerk my head up and see the mare before she yanked me away from the colt and shoved me into the wall. “What are you doing to my boy, huh?!” Her blue eyes shone in streetlamps.

I didn’t have the life in me to fight back, not anymore, not now. I shook my head lamely, unable to answer, and diverted my gaze from her seething face. “I… I don’t…” I swallowed something in my throat, and couldn’t say any more.

The green pegasus mare snorted and let me go, rushing over to the colt. She held him, stroking him gently, assuring him everything would be alright, before whirling back around to face me, tears forming in her eyes, her voice so very angry. “Do you th-think it’s fun to h-hurt other p-p-ponies? Is this h-how you get your kicks? Do you hurt foals f-for fun?!”

“N-no! I…”

Her fiery mane seemed all the more scorching as she dug deeper into me. She continued, her sadness evident in the water that ran down her cheeks. “I h-heard about your little rampage through town tonight. W-who the fuck do you think you are, huh!? I don’t know what’s going on with you, but whatever it is, you need help. You’re crazy!” She sniveled, getting up to confront me again. “E-everything is your fault!” She shoved me backwards in frustration, but I just stared at her blankly, her words ringing in my ears.

Something clicked.

Everything is my fault?

I pressed my eyes together, shutting out everything. In a flash, some memories came back to me, thoughts of my life and how I had suffered through every little thing it had thrown at me. The unfair hoof of fate, the unrelenting paranoia. Everything was out to get me. Everybody. I was the sole victim, completely blameless.

There was so much pain, so much sadness I felt. So much anger, for no reason at all.

But everything being my fault? I never did anything wrong, did I?

Did I?

I certainly did tonight, didn’t I?

I lost control of that anger I had buried so deep.

That old, familiar squirming returned and I whimpered in agony. “Stop…” I whispered, “Stop.”

I opened my eyes and the mare was tending to the colt again, her attention off of me.

I suddenly found my hooves again and I ran. I ran away, from everything that had just happened, down the streets, past buildings, through alleys, until I couldn’t anymore. Things were swirling in my head that I had never thought before. Long held beliefs that I was innocent were being demolished by something that was new to me.

Guilt.

I had never entertained the notion, but I surely did some things to feel guilty about just now, if my memory could even be trusted.

Now, my aimless wanderings were suddenly cut short. Blocking my way was something that seemed vaguely familiar, like a hazy dream. In front of me, there was a section of sidewalk cordoned off by caution tape. In the middle was a smashed television, glass and metal scattered everywhere.

I looked up at the hotel and spied a lone curtain fluttering out of a broken window at the very top. I had done that as well.

I stared at the remains of the television that I had thrown from the window what seemed like a lifetime ago. There was nothing playing on the screen now. Everything was broken. My fault.

Me.

I was wrong.

A stone felt like it had been placed on my back, pulling me down into some unknown vagueness I never had visited nor wanted to. I suddenly found it hard to take another step, unwilling to go any further, but I managed to drag myself and that burden of remorse around the corner and into an alleyway.

On the wall, there was a pay telephone with the phone dangling off the hook. I listlessly pawed at it as I passed and then collapsed on the floor next to it, my back to the rough brick wall. It was fitting I found myself back in the same place this day began.

I couldn’t hold back the tears.

Author's Note

Based on “Run Like Hell” and “Waiting for the Worms.”

Chapter Twenty-Two: Stop!

Chapter Twenty-Two

Stop!

I let my head rest on the wall, unable to even bother keeping it up any longer.

Voices and sounds and echoes floated to me through the thin brick, from inside the hotel. I could hear talking, muttering, whispering, yelling, though what about, I had no idea. My own thoughts were being much too loud to allow any other sort of conversation.

There was a dumpster in front of me, overflowing with trash from the hotel. Next to me was the payphone, still untouched from when I had used it earlier.

I looked at it and thought of Rêves, of the discovery that she was cheating on me. Was adultery just in her nature or was it something I drove her to? Did I abandon her?

Did I wrong her or she me?

What about mother?

And what about…?

I rocked back and forth, unable to keep still for once. Could I have done some things differently? Had I overreacted to some things? Had I alienated everyone in my life? Was it true that maybe, some of the blame for my unhappiness fell on me? Did all of it fall on me?

The more I sat there, the heavier this newly-realized guilt began to weigh down on me. My entire grasp on reality, what I had thought had been real, true, seemed utterly alien now. And, as I thought about it, the more it seemed that I hadn’t born any responsibility for any of my actions.

Had I unjustly blamed everyone around me for what had happened to me?

Was everything I had justified in the past few hours false? What I had done at my concert? My rampage through the streets?

I stroked my scalp absentmindedly, feeling the shaven roughness. My hoof wandered its way down my face after a moment and rubbed the space where an eyebrow should have been. My other hoof clutched at my jacket and tore half of it off my shoulders before falling listlessly by my side.

I just wanted everything to stop, for all these new feelings to just fall away and leave me be. I needed to go back home, to see some familiar place, to have some measure of normalcy. I wanted to just take off this damned uniform and leave this place.

But I sat in the alleyway, curled in a ball, my hooves grasping at my face for lack of anything else to do, because I had to know if I had been guilty the entire time.

So I lay there, unable to do anything but listen to my thoughts, confined in my own head, like an inmate.

I was in my cell, this alley my prison. I could only sit there and try to wrap myself around what went wrong. What happened to me? What did I do? When did my troubles begin?

I blinked.

There would have to be a trial to determine my guilt, my responsibility to others and to myself.

Presently, some figure appeared at the mouth of the prison. He stood there, unmoving and then took a step in. “Hello?” He called in. “Is there anypony in there?” His voice sounded frightfully familiar.

My head lolled forward and I lost sight of him, but I could hear his hoofsteps grow ever closer to my cell. More than likely, he was some prison guard coming in to check on the inmates, on me. I could hear his baton banging on the bars of every cell he passed, clacking.

“Pink? Is that you?” His voice was closer. He was searching for where I languished in my cage so he could take me and haul me off to my trial, so I could finally learn of what I had done.

Had I been guilty all this time?

I had to know.

He banged three times on my cell door and peered at me with hard, unfeeling eyes. “Pinkerton, get up. It’s time to go.”

My door unlocked in a jangle of keys and squeaked loudly as it opened, but I suddenly couldn’t find the energy to move and look at who was in front of me.

The guard seized me anyways and dragged me from where I sat, hauling me down some corridor and through two gargantuan doors. The room inside seemed something out of a dream, comprised of white bricks that lined the walls, stretching up and out for infinity.

Shadowy figures watched on from balconies high above the floor. They fell silent as the doors had creaked open, and stared at me with a sharp, reproaching gaze as I was marched past.

The guard steered me against the wall and let me go. Without any support, I collapsed onto the floor and looked outward without blinking, without movement. I couldn’t do anything. No voice to speak, no tears to cry, no thoughts to think.

In front of me was an imposing judge podium, shrouded in darkness, lacking any sort of actual judge for the moment. That was the only thing in the room, save for me and the countless balconies above that housed the jury and audience.

My own personal trial was about to be in session, and I was at the mercy of others once again.

My guilt would be found soon enough.

Time to know.

Author's Note

Based on “Stop”

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Wall

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Wall

I breathed in.

My name is Pink, and my entire life has been full of heartache and misfortune, and none of it has been my fault. I’m the victim. I always have been, since the very beginning.

That’s what I always thought, what I always knew.

I was blameless.

But now…I’m not so sure.

Everything is different.

I feel wrong.

My entire life, I was trying to protect myself, cut myself off from the evils of reality, but, in doing so, was I also hurting others, driving them away from me?

Had I been wrong my entire life?

A bell rang, drawing my attention outwards.

The room seemed to lack any definition to it. I couldn’t focus on any one thing for too long without beginning to see some other part of the room. It stretched out endlessly, but also seemed incredibly intimate, familiar even, as if it was some place I had known for all my life, despite not.

And I certainly couldn’t see any bells.

But then one rang again, somewhere high above, and resounded a few more times before fading away.

I looked at those balconies, filled with thousands and millions of figures, some not even pony. Many of their eyes were on me, and I had no doubt that I had wronged them in some way.

I wasn’t entirely sure if they were witnesses, the jury, or just mere onlookers.

The bell rang again, drowning out all other noise.

And it was at this point that something at the judge’s podium caught my attention. There was something moving in the shadows that shrouded most of the stand. Through the darkness, I could make out a faint outline of some hulking monstrosity that I could only assume was the judge. But, from the way whatever it was was moving and shifting, I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to see it at all.

Another bell tolled, reverberating around the space for longer than strictly necessary, and then fell silent.

For a few seconds, like before, nothing happened, but then, the large doors I had entered from burst open, yet revealed no one there.

There were a few more seconds of nothing.

“Good morning, your honor!” cried a nasally, refined voice, seemingly from nowhere.

And then the doors slammed shut with a hefty bang, without anyone having entered. The entire room quickly grew silent and gave their attention to the floor. Nothing stirred, and the only sound that remained was the steady pace of hooves clicking against the indescribable floor, and a gentle cough.

As far as I could tell, nothing had changed no one had entered, but then, seemingly appearing from out the bricks of the wall, a boorish-looking, rotund stallion wearing a ridiculously large neck ruff and long, trailing tailcoat strolled out into the center of the room.

He approached the front and gave a deep, flourishing bow to the judge’s stand before turning and giving a curt wave at the audience and jury high above. Next, the stallion twirled to face me, his coattails flowing behind him. His eyes searched over me, feeling me, and then looked away in disgust.

The lawyer, for that was what he was, cleared his throat and began to pace the floor, his face scrunched into an intense expression. “Now,” he began, speaking to everyone, “the crown will plainly show the prisoner before you,” he pointed an incriminating hoof at me, “was caught in the act of showing feelings, of all things! Feelings, everybody!”

The crowd above erupted into a cacophony of jeers and yells at the stallion’s words. I could feel the contempt the mob felt for me, though I had no idea why. The judge, though, stayed silent, watchful.

The stallion smiled at the crowd’s shouts, which only served to further the deep wrinkles that creased his face. He waited for them to fall quiet before continuing. “Yes, yes, I know. He is accused of having real, live, tender feelings. Feelings of an almost poignant nature! For once in his pitiful existence, there was a twinge of emotion in his guarded heart! A spark of empathy for his fellows!”

He glanced up at the shadowy figure at the judge’s stand before stalking away and standing some length away, his beady eyes glancing over me. He licked a hoof and slicked back his thinning mane. With a sweeping motion, he looked at the crowd, the jury, and gestured at me. “Here he is, friends, a pony—a stallion—who shut himself out from the rest of the world because of what? Because he was hurt? Because he was angry? Because his mommy told him to? Because he was, and is still, afraid?”

The lawyer paused and tugged on his ruff before continuing. “He lived most of his life with emotionless detachment, content in that he never got too close to anyone that could ultimately harm him. He then grew older, completely oblivious as the few meaningful connections he had begun to wither and withdraw from him, tired of trying to break through his shell.

“And now, what is probably too late, after some arduous events, he found a crack, an imperfection, in that all-consuming wall of his, and he caught a fleeting glimpse of pure, unadulterated emotion through the gap. And when he turned to look, it was gone, and he was left wondering if, maybe, something was wrong with his self-imposed isolation, his almost comatose state. He found doubt pervading his peace.

“That is why we’re here, folks.” His eyes were on me. “Our one Mister Pinkerton is not feeling very well. His marbles have escaped him for the time being. And we’re all here to show him what he’s done, and maybe gather them back up for him.”

He walked away with a cocky grin smudged on his features. He cleared his throat louder than needed and thumped his chest twice. “Now call in his schoolmaster!”

There was nothing for a moment, once again, and then, from the top of the wall, dropped in a familiar griffon, complete with walking cane and malicious smirk.

Sir strode forward, cane clattering on the floor every other step. He looked just as how I remembered him, if even more angry and disappointed and terrifying.

Twisted.

As he neared, I wanted to shrink away from him, but couldn’t. He paid me no mind, casting a scrutinizing eye over his surroundings before giving a brisk nod to the lawyer and the judge.

But then he turned to face me, yet still didn’t say anything. He merely stared at me, disapprovingly, as if he would rather be anywhere else but. Eventually, he flexed his wings, readjusting them, making his form seem even more imposing than it was, and then sighed.

He spoke, his voice biting and cruel. “You know,” he tucked his cane under his arm, “I always said he’d come to no good in the end, your ‘onor. I knew he’d never achieve nothing, not really, that he’d always be the same lazy, idiotic foal I struggled to teach. Even with all his success, he has nothing, he never learned ‘ow to properly live.”

Sir shook his head and wiped his glasses on a handkerchief, deep in thought. “He never stayed in line either, no matter what I did. All his other classmates did as they were told. They fit the mold they were given. But our Pinkerton,” he jabbed a claw in my face, “was always a rambunctious lil’ bugger, an uncontrollable variable.

“You know,” he chuckled, “if they’d let me have my way, I could’ve flayed him into shape. I could’ve done my job! That’s all I wanted to do! My job was to teach him, and he made it so difficult! ” With those words, a murmur broke out in the audience and a few heads turned to glare at me. I wanted to disappear now, away from all the accusations, but was powerless.

And Sir continued, an amused smirk growing on his face as he watched my own discomfort. “But my hands were tied, everyone! Those bleeding ‘earts an’ artists let him get away with murder! He coulda just stayed in place an’ everything would’ve been fine, but he sought to defy me at every turn! All I was asking for was compliance! Was that so hard to do!? Was it!?”

At that, the audience broke out in cheers, yelling their support for the griffon’s plight and my guilt. Sir knew it was killing me, so he let it continue for several minutes, eyes locked with mine. He smiled.

After what seemed an eternity, he cleared his throat and made the room quiet down. “Pinkerton was selfish,” he said. “Never gave much thought about what his actions brought, an’ ‘ow much he disrupted the classroom. I was never properly able to do my job because of him, all because he was too scared to just do the right thing an’ follow the rules, an’ live a normal life.”

He paused and then started again. “If he stopped ‘iding behind masks, then maybe he could find his own place in life an’ be a proper person. That’s all I wanted ‘im to learn. Truly.”

He turned to the judge, arms spread wide. “I’ve waited so long to do my job, your honor. Will you let me hammer him into shape today? Won’t you let me do what needs to be done?!”

There was a deafening silence in the room as Sir stared up at the darkness. Something shifted in there and I could sense it glaring out, watching over the proceedings, over Sir. I tried to focus on whatever was there, but could see nothing. A sense of uncomfortable dread settled in over the room, and my former teacher seemed to deflate like a balloon under the judge’s silence.

Sir’s arms fell limply to his sides, muttered something under his breath, and nodded in understanding. With a final glare at me, he stalked over to the side of the judge’s stand, where he stood in silence.

It was true that I hadn’t been the best student. I never put much stock in the system, in learning. He always did try, and because of me, always failed, and that always resorted to violence.

The lawyer from earlier took the floor once again, nodding. “Fine words.” He nodded again. “Indeed.”

He drifted over next to me, his tail swishing across my shoulders and chest. I couldn’t see his face through the large neck ruff, but I could just tell he was just beaming.

“Now,” he said, tapping a hoof on the floor, “we have another witness to show!” He licked his lips. “Call in the defendant’s wife!”

And with those words, the lawyer slipped away, returning to his spot near the judge, and now, Sir.
There was nothing.

I—

“You little shit.” came a venomous voice behind me. From in between the bricks of the wall itself, slithered out a mare I knew all too well. She sauntered to me, hair flowing free, hips promiscuous, mouth set in an angry scowl. My wife trailed a hoof on the outer edge of my jaw and down my chest. She smiled, just a little, and then shoved me against the wall, taking pride in my discomfort.

She cackled. “You’re in it now, aren’t you, Pink? Everything you’ve done has finally caught back up to you, and now you’re in here. Fitting, for you.” Rêves flaunted away, looking at the crowd and even blowing a few kisses at them, before turning back to me.

“You know, I hope they lock you away in a cell and throw away the key! You don’t deserve to be free.” A scoff. “You put this on yourself. You should’ve talked with me more often than you did.” She hit me again, her face alight in rage. Her fiery mane seemed to be burning along with her. “But no! You had to go your own way, and leave me, your own wife, alone!”

She was snout-to-snout with me now, nothing but seething hatred ablaze in her features. “Tell me, Pink, dear husband, have you broken up any other homes up lately, huh?! Have you destroyed the lives of any other unsuspecting mares?!” Rêves circled me, talking down from every angle. “It’s not like I didn’t know you were sleeping with other mares! You did it all the time! Anyone you could get your grubby little hooves on!”

She bit back a sob. “It tore me up inside, knowing that you never really cared about me! I was just another one of, who knows how many mares, wasn’t I, you bastard!?” Her voice grew quieter. “I stayed faithful all the years you weren’t, and the moment I give in to temptation and find solace in the embrace of another, you freak out about it!

“You're despicable. The scum of society. I don’t know how I even fell for you in the first place. You were so self-centered and aloof, even back then, that I can’t believe I never saw this coming.

“After this, I never want to see you again,” she growled through gritted teeth. “We’re through.”

She turned away from me, casting a look over the crowd as if she had forgotten they were there and approached the judge. “He deserves so much more than whatever punishment he’ll get here. I need my own retribution. As his wife I deserve that much. Just five minutes, your honor, him and me, alone!”

But just like Sir’s request before, she was met with silence.

And, with a defeated sigh, and one final glare at me, she slunk off to stand beside Sir.

I did abandon her. I lost myself in the rock and roll lifestyle, the sex, drugs, the partying. I’ve cheated on her more times than I could ever count, and she stayed true. But the moment I discovered she was sleeping with somepony else, for however long, I completely fell apart.

What kind of husband treats his wife like that?

With a slight nod at my wife as she passed by, the prosecutor returned to his place in the center. “Very nice.” He readjusted his tailcoat for a second and then spoke again. “Now, we do have more witnesses to call, so let us continue with the third.”

He smiled. “Call his mother to the st—”

“Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabe!” A large, imposing figure exploded into the room, drawing the attention of everyone in it.

My mother stood there, concern and love splattered across her face like badly applied makeup, frantically searching the room. When her eyes fell on me, her face split in a wide smile and she practically lunged across the room, scooping me into a tight, tight embrace.

“Oh, come to momma, baby, come here, my little boy. Let me just hold you in my arms for a while.” She planted multiple, wet, sloppy kisses all over my face. “Oh, my little sunshine, what’s happened? Are you okay?” She turned and glared at Sir, at Rêves, but quickly returned her loving coddle to me. “Did that nasty, mean, old griffon, and that no-good, dirty mare hurt you? It’s okay…” She stroked my head. “It’s okay…

“You should’ve listened to me, Pink. I could’ve saved you all that heartache. Momma knows best.” She smiled sweetly and kissed me again. “I love you so, so, so much.”

Some emotion flickered across her face. “Now, hold on for a minute, okay, sunshine? Momma has to talk to that silly judge up there, okay?” She then shifted slightly, moving her attention to the judge, blanketing me in her shadow. “Milord, I never wanted him to get in any trouble, honest. I always tried my very best to keep him safe and out of harm’s way, away from all the evil in the world.

“That’s all a mother’s role is. To protect and raise their children, and keep them safe and uncorrupted all their life. When he got together with that harlot of a mare,” a pointed stare at Rêves, “I tried to talk him out of it, because I could tell she was no good, and I was right, wasn’t I? Look what she did to my poor baby!

“And I love him so very much. I would give anything to keep him safe and content, but he never understood that. Sure, he headed my warnings and reciprocated my love for a few years, but after a while, he only pushed me away. He hated his own mother!” She sighed. “And why? Because I loved him? Why is that a crime?”

She paused. “It only worsened over time. He grew to resent me more and more, until the day came he just moved out, and went down the very path I had tried so hard to save him from going down. Do you have any idea how hard it was to just sit at home and have to read in the newspaper about my own son’s reckless antics and rock and roll lifestyle?! We haven’t seen each other in over twenty years, and we’ve only sent maybe five letters between us in that time!”

My mother broke off, throwing a glance and a smile over her shoulder at me. “I…” She stopped again. “With his father gone, he’s all I have left in this world… I just wanted to make him happy, that’s all…” She shook her head. “Why’d he ever have to leave me?”

She turned again and enveloped me in another hug. “Oh, why’d you ever have to leave, sunshine? I love you so, so much. I just wish that you’d love me back… I don’t know where I went wrong.” She stroked my head. “Why’d you ever have to leave me, Pink?”

Mother kissed me once more and then looked back up at the judge. “Please, your honor, let me take him home. I can keep him safe there, out of any more trouble.”

And just as earlier, there was only silence. With a defeated sigh she set me down and shuffled over to the others. She stood there, an overwhelmed, longing look in her eyes.

I felt lonely now.

I really was horrible, wasn’t I? I damned my mother for nothing more than loving me. When all she wanted was what was best for me, I rebelled in every way.

What kind of son does that?

The lawyer reentered the floor. “Touching.” He sneered. “This is the kind of person that our Mister Pinkerton is. Uncaring and selfish.”

And I was, wasn’t I? Most of my life, I pushed everyone away, afraid that they would hurt me.

But that very action of self-imprisonment was what was harming me in the first place.

Ever since my father.

The stallion flourished a hoof. “Now, the next person to call t—”

There was a deep intake of breath from the judge’s stand. The lawyer froze mid-sentence and flipped around to stare up at the shadows. Everyone else did similar, unsure what was going to happen.

“STOP!” A booming voice thundered over our heads.

Something stirred in the shadows behind the judge’s podium. Through the darkness, I could see a dim outline of a hulking mass, but nothing more.

And then it bent forward and the blackness scattered, revealing the huge form of a crudely stitched together, pink, stuffed doll. It glared down at me with sharp button eyes, its mouth stitches curling upward.

Bits of stuffing poked out through its skin, and in several places there were off-color patches sewn over what once must have been a tear. It was as if someone had once been taking very good care of it, but then stopped, forgotten about it, and left it to rot.

With a start, I realized it was one of my own foalhood toys, the doll my father had made for me, so long ago.

I had completely forgotten about it.

A bit of fluff fell out from its arm and drifted down to the floor.

“I’VE HEARD ENOUGH!” It emanated, its voice cutting through the air like nothing. It sat up, seemingly growing even more massive before continuing. “ALREADY, THE EVIDENCE MADE BEFORE THIS COURT IS INCONTROVERTIBLE! THERE IS NO NEED FOR THE JURY TO RETIRE! I HAVE MADE MY OWN DECISION!”

In the slight pause that followed, everything seemed to grow closer. My mother, Rêves, Sir, the lawyer, the judge, all seemed nearer to me before, more criticizing.

My judge continued, “IN ALL MY YEARS OF JUDGING, I HAVE NEVER HEARD BEFORE OF SOMEONE MORE DESERVING OF THE FULL PENALTY OF LAW! THERE IS NO EXCUSE FOR HOW YOU ACTED, THERE IS NO CASE YOU COULD MAKE FOR YOURSELF THAT COULD EVER PAINT YOU IN AN INNOCENT LIGHT!”

They all grew nearer, larger. The doll seemed to tower over me now, his menace and disappointment apparent. “THE WAY YOU MADE YOUR EXQUISITE WIFE, MOTHER, AND COUNTLESS OTHERS SUFFER SO, FILLS ME WITH THE URGE TO DEFECATE! I CAN BARELY HOLD BACK MY DISGUST AT THE HORROR OF THE SITUATION!”

The crowd erupted in laughter at this, one member even shouting, “Go on, judge! Shit on him!”

The crowd, my peers, my jury, my friends, my family encircled me now, staring down at me with displeasure. And yet, the judge’s shadow overtook them all, blanketing everything, turning the white brick wall a light black.

I was scared. Scared of what I had done.

I was crazy.

Over the rainbow, gone for good.

The judge’s voice was everywhere now, resounding. “SINCE, MY FRIEND, YOU HAVE REVEALED YOUR DEEPEST FEARS, WITH THE POWER VESTED IN ME, I SENTENCE YOU TO BE EXPOSED BEFORE YOUR PEERS! BEFORE EVERYONE! BEFORE EVERYTHING!”

He smiled.

“I SENTENCE YOU TO TEAR DOWN THE WALL AND REJOIN SOCIETY!”

There was silence for a moment and then, in the crowd, one figure shouted back, echoing his verdict.

“Tear down the wall!”

And more of the mob joined in.

“Tear down the wall!”

And more.

“Tear down the wall!”

And then, everyone was shouting the same four words.

“Tear down the wall!”

And still they drew in closer, they features growing ever more wild and intense.

“Tear down the wall!”

The judge repeated the words.

“TEAR DOWN THE WALL!”

“Tear down the wall!”

Their voices swelled louder.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

I cowered from them, their incessant noise.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

Too much.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

So loud.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

So true.

With no warning, I began to lose sensation.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

I found myself out of my body. I was everywhere at once, and yet nowhere.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

I could see everything, the crowd, the judge, even myself, slumped against the wall like a discarded doll.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

And still, the chanting pervaded the air, filling me, filling everything.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

The final decree dawdled in every crevice of my nonexistent body and in the faces of everyone around me. The crowd, the judge, all seemed to find me and fix me with their gaze and the terrible repeated words.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

And the wall itself still loomed overhead, past the limits of imagination. As I gawped at it, I gathered a sense of protection from it, something strangely comforting. Like an old friend. This had been with me since foalhood, growing larger and more enveloping with each passing year.

It had protected me, yes, as any walls should. Was that that bad?

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

I was hesitant. I heard the order, but still felt unsure of my actions. I had heard the cases against me, but had everything I knew really been a lie? Was I so horrible?

I couldn’t find the strength.

Yet, they still urged me forward, driving into me the same line over and over.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

The judge flung his arms wide and screamed to the heavens, splitting the endless mantra for a brief respite, “LET’S REALLY SHOW HIM WHAT HE HAS DONE! PRESENT HIM WITH A DIFFERENT POINT OF VIEW!”

And still, the mantra of a verdict wormed its way into everything.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

And suddenly, I was no longer without form. I found myself firmly secure in a body once more, though it wasn’t mine.

I was a griffon, teaching at the front of a classroom. I smiled in satisfaction knowing that my actions were helping Equestria. But there were so many unruly foals. Wartime was no place for disobedience, but however much I tried, they ignore me.

My wife hates me, despises my existence. I come home every night to her, and I don’t see the hen I married so long ago. She hurts me, and I’m too weak to fight back. I hate her so much, but I can’t do anything about it.

I spend my mornings and afternoons finding solace in the bottom of a bottle, hoping to deaden this unmeasurable resignation and find a way to make it through the hours I spend at home.

But at the school, I reign supreme. The foals are uncontrollable and maddening, so I take the coward’s choice once again and lord over them. My anger builds up, I explode at them and beat them until they listen and behave. And it works, they listen. Most of the time, anyway. Sometimes, violence is the only answer. That, and more alcohol.

These colts and fillies would understand that one day. They may resent me now, but they will understand when they get older. They would thank me. Their innocence wouldn’t last much longer anyway.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a young unicorn, so intent on making my way through the crowded train station that I never noticed the addled rock star until he walked right into me. He never apologized to me, a rather rude response to the situation, I thought. His friend, or whoever he was, apologized profusely for the pink pony’s actions and sent me on my way with a little extra money and a promise not to say anything to the papers.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a small filly. It was only my first week at the new school, and it had ended in disaster.

I stood outside, in the courtyard, along with the rest of the students. The entire school building was on fire, burning away into ashes. I wasn’t sure what had caused it, but I kept hearing conflicting whispers that it was either an accident in one of the science classrooms, or someone had set it intentionally.

Either way, the teachers had left. I think they went to go find some help. Only, in all the madness and confusion, they left all of us alone in front of the raging inferno.

Many of the foals already left, running home to their families, but many stayed behind, entranced by the fire and the freedom from school that would result from it.

Suddenly, one of the walls groaned loudly and gave way, collapsing. Many of the bricks scattered across the courtyard, in our direction. We all screamed and backed away, scared of getting hurt.

When it had settled, some pink colt, I didn’t know his name, picked up one of the fallen bricks and threw it back at the building, causing even more of it to collapse. As we all scattered again, many of us threw the colt an angry glare for his idiotic move.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was the leader of a gang—a small group, really—intent on harming as many of those low-life dirt ponies as possible. What had they done to help us? Pegasi and unicorns had won Equestria the war, not the bottom-feeding dirt ponies. They were nothing but scum, living off Equestria’s glories.

It has nothing to do with the fact the platoon I was in, comprised entirely of the idiot earth ponies, abandoned me and left me to die on the battlefield. Not at all.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a red unicorn that plays in an extremely popular band. It’s nice and all, but the lead singer, one of my closest friends, is killing himself. I can see him wither away as he continues to fill his body with drugs and alcohol and other fluids. I couldn’t tell you the last time he was fully sober.

I feel as if I should say something, but I don’t because I’m too timid, afraid of the repercussions. I owe so much to that pink stallion, and I can never predict his behavior.
I’m sure everything will pan out in the end.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a pink mare, watching my baby colt grow up. There was so much in the world that could hurt him. My husband died so suddenly in the damned war, and I didn’t want that for my boy, my sunshine. I had to protect him, make him as happy and secure as possible. Forever. I had too. I couldn’t lose him too.

So I kept him safe, drove away anything that would harm him, and gave him most everything he wanted.

And now he hates me for doing it, for smothering him, as he put it, but I know that everything will be okay in the end. I love him. Keeping him out of harm’s way is the only way to protect him. He’ll always be my baby boy.

He is my son, and nopony, not even that foreign filly he likes, will take him away from me.

He’ll see that sooner or later. I know.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a middle-class stallion, out for a pleasant dinner with my wife at a new restaurant in town. I had to make reservations months in advance just to get in, but it was all worth it for her.

We arrived in a carriage, and I was helping her step out, when some deranged pink stallion ran up and shoved us to the ground, laughing maniacally. He hit me, breaking what felt like a rib, before turning his attention to my wife. He ripped the dress off of her and twisted one of her legs into a position it should never go into.

I tried so hard to get up and stop him, but I was too weak. One onlooker tried to intervene, but the stallion stopped him, slamming him into the stone wall surrounding the restaurant and laying into him.

No one else helped.

But then, inexplicably, the pink stallion flashed a wide smile at me, and stopped, running away into the night, hooting loudly.

I wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but I knew that he was a crazy pony. Everyone knew what crazy ponies looked like.

I crawled over to my wife and cradled her whimpering, shocked form.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a student in class. Today, we were learning about the ancient history of Equestria, and I was very excited. I loved history.

Only, there was that pink colt, whatever his name was, causing trouble yet again at the back of the classroom. Our teacher had moved him back there at the end of class yesterday after he openly and very vocally refused to do his work for most of class. After arguing with him for several minutes, the teacher hit him a few times with a ruler and made him sit in the back.

Today, the colt was still disrupting class, talking loudly, and generally being annoying. I think the teacher tried to ignore him, as was I, but eventually, he snapped, hit the colt again and sent him out of the room.

And of course now, the teacher was so angry that we all suffered. If any of us so much as coughed, we were hit and given detention.

I hated days like this. I hated that pink colt.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a groupie watching in silent horror as my idol’s mask was cast away, revealing how destructive and violent the rock star had become, and the depths he had fallen to.

I could only hope to dodge the furniture and accessories he threw at me as he destroyed the hotel room in a blind rage.

This wasn’t the way this was supposed to go!

He had come to me, looking to feel better, and I went with hoping to fulfill that wish.

I ran, screaming, out of the room, the first moment I could, not once looking back.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was presiding over a funeral, one of the hundreds I have had to do in the past years since the war began. Today’s was no different. A grieving widow and a small colt who was too young to understand his father was never coming back.

I hoped he would grow up alright.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a white unicorn stallion that was knocking politely at a door. A mare opened it after a few moments, and her face fell when she saw my near identical partner and me, knowing what was to come next. It was a situation we had been in many a time before.

We talked for a minute, though mostly my associate, and then I produced a small box, and held it out to the mare. The middle-aged, pink mare took the box and suddenly crumpled to the floor as the implications hit her. Her husband’s personal effects fell with her and were quickly forgotten as I bent down to comfort the now grieving widow.

A voice, not my partner’s or the mare’s spoke up. I looked around and found myself face to face with a small pink foal. His innocent gray eyes watched me, as if unsure what to say. I backed away, almost tripping over his mother. Coward. I ran from the room, unable to face the music.

I left, leaving my partner to wrap things up and deliver the final papers. I was a coward. I was a coward. That’s why I begged to not serve in the war. I had requested and pleaded with my superiors not to send me to my death. So they gave me a partner and sent me door to door to serve an almost crueler task. The faces of the wives and children as I informed them of their spouse’s or father’s death would haunt me just as much as if I had killed the enemy. It was always the worst when they had foals.

I shouldn’t be a soldier. Equestria needs better stallions than me.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a green unicorn standing in front of a piano telling my husband that I was going out for a while. I whispered three simple words that conveyed so much adoration and so much concern to the almost comatose pink pony slouched over his piano. It was those three simple words that had formed so much between the two of us. They were words that created a relationship that later blossomed into a marriage. They were love.

But the pink stallion, my husband, didn’t respond. How long had it been since he had? When had he last shown any interest? Had it been days since he had last replied to those three words? Months? Even years? When did our relationship begin to decay? Was it my fault?

These days, my husband stumbled home from the studio, barely awake, smelling of whisky, drugs, and who knew what else, if he even came home at all. Most nights, I cried myself to sleep, distraught as I watched the stallion I loved slowly die in front of my eyes. I never understood why exactly he felt so compelled to destroy his body each day with drugs and alcohol.

Now he was to the point where he couldn’t even form coherent sentences half of the time.

Stifling a sob, I tightened my saddlebags and trotted from the room, glancing behind me as I went, hoping for any sign of life from the pink earth pony at the piano.

But there wasn’t.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a small unicorn foal, out an adventure with my two friends and some small earth pony. My daddy had lost his life in the war and I’m so, so angry, but I can’t show it. I can’t cry. I have to stand strong for mommy and my little brother. I have to be strong, like daddy was.

And this small, idiot pink earth pony stopped to smell some flowers. Why can’t I be that carefree? I hate him. He’s so naïve. I hate him for his innocence. I’m sure nothing bad has ever happened to him.

But, maybe we can wipe that grin off his face.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a mare attending a concert of one of my favorite rock musicians. I’ve been waiting for five hours just to get in the stadium to see him and he’s late. But it’s alright, because I know it’ll all be worth it.

After what seems like days, he stumbles onto stage, obviously drunk and drugged out. He half-heartedly sings three songs before he collapses on stage and the band tries to wake him, to no avail. They attempt to continue to play without him.

It’s not the same.

The concert is cancelled and I go home, bitter, and end up burning my poster of him, crying all the while.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a small colt walking with my father. I felt somepony watching me. I glanced up and locked eyes with a pink pony watching me from the window. Shivering, I immediately broke eye contact and clutched at my father’s hoof. He looked down at me, confused for a moment, but then he smiled at me. I grinned ear to ear and we continued to walk down the sidewalk, past the where the pink colt lived.

Things were great.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a tan pegasus, watching my best friend wither away over the years. Fame was taking its toll on him, and no matter what I said, he would never stop. He was in so much pain, I know, and he kept running from it, burying it with drink and mares.

I love him like a brother, but I can’t stand watching him destroy himself. He has to take a break. He has to get help. I don’t know how much longer his body can hold out.

One of these days, everything will fall to pieces.

One of these days, he’ll snap.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a manager, bursting into the penthouse suite of my hotel, only to find it destroyed by the rock star that was staying there. His manager assures me that he’ll pay for it, more or less.

I couldn’t believe the nerve of today’s celebrities, thinking they can get away with whatever they can. This will take time to fix. Time that I won’t be able to spend with my family.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a blue pegasus stallion going for a walk in the park. It was autumn and the park was crowded, but that didn’t bother me. I loved the smell of the trees and the fresh, open air.

But then, I heard crying and I turned to see a small, pink colt standing stock still in the middle of the crowd. He had lost his mother. Smiling at him, I scooped him up and wandered around, looking for a mare that looked worried.

Eventually, I found his mother, a pink mare like him. I handed him over and she thanked me. She looked at me strangely for a moment and the foal stared at me in quiet wonder. I turned and walked away, assuring them that it wasn’t a big deal.

I felt the mare’s eyes on me the whole time I walked away.

“TEAR DOWN THE WALL!”

I was a blue pegasus stallion, patrolling the fields out by the gorge, keeping an eye out for an attack by the enemy. It was a cool, blustery evening, and nothing of interest had happened. I was getting tired, and wished that I would be relieved soon.

But then, I heard sobs echoing through the night. I searched for a while, before finding the source of the noise. Over the edge of the canyon was a small, pink colt lying halfway down the rock wall on a narrow ledge. I quickly flew down there and examined him.

He was beat up pretty badly.

I scooped him up and brought him back to the surface. I wrapped him in a spare rag and built a small fire, unsure what to do. His breathing was weak.

Eventually, he opened his eyes and we talked for a little bit, and, when my shift was over, I brought him back to his distraught mother.

I never did get his name, but he reminded me a bit of my boy. Same color coat and everything.

“TEAR DOWN THE WALL!”

I was a blue pegasus stallion, guarding the streets, keeping a watch out for any trouble. The war may have been over, but there were still many a stallion who still had the urge to destroy and cause trouble. I was expecting a quiet evening, but that’s not what I got.

Soon enough, I heard screams from an alley up ahead, and I rushed over to find some stallions beating on a poor, pink earth pony. There were plenty of these gangs all across Equestria now, picking on anyone smaller just for fun.

I yelled at them, and managed to chase them away with a few choice spells. I should’ve pursued them, but the stallion they were attacking was in a world of hurt. After some effort, I managed to heave him onto my back and began to carry him to a hospital.

I recognized him as that famous musician, but I also felt as if I knew him from somewhere else, as if this situation was eerily familiar.

“TEAR DOWN THE WALL!”

I was a blue pegasus stallion hurrying into a hotel in Canterlot as the sun fell below the horizon. One of my clients, a famous rock star, was unresponsive and comatose. His manager had called me down, after ensuring that I would keep quiet about anything that may happen.

I entered the penthouse suite to see the pink stallion slumped over in a chair, staring blankly at static on the television screen in front of him.

After talking with his manager, I went over to him, staring down at his motionless body. Muttering softly to him in the off chance he could hear, I inspected him, but could find nothing wrong, save for a few cuts and bruises.

It was as if his mind had gotten up and left.

I knew that I only had one thing that could snap him out of it. Feeling the manager’s impatient glare, I rushed from the room to go grab the necessary drugs from my carriage downstairs.

Though it wasn’t exactly legal, I was sure my special concoction would get him up and going faster than anything else. It wasn’t exactly legal, and could really mess him up, but I’m sure the side-effects wouldn’t be too bad.

“TEAR DOWN THE WALL!”

I was a blue pegasus stallion, slumped in a chair, the sounds of pain and agony coming from the doorway just beside me. There were deep bags under my eyes, and a few days’ worth of stubble on my face. Though the past months had been tough on everypony, I knew in a few moments they were going to be worth it.

Suddenly the shouts stopped, and a new, shriller one took its place. The sound of crying that only a newborn foal could produce. I breathed a sigh of relief and stood up, anxious to see my new child.

A white coated doctor peered out of the door and beckoned me inside. I walked in and, lying in the bed, was the most important mare in my life with the most important colt in my life in her hooves.

The pink mare was cradling the squirming, pink colt lovingly, stroking his head as he continued to cry. As I approached her, she glanced up and smiled at me, holding my son out.

Gingerly, I took him and his crying almost immediately ceased. The foal looked up at me with his large, gleaming, gray eyes and smiled for the first time.

The doctor came up behind me and nudged my shoulder, asking if we had decided on a name yet.

I glanced at my wife and then back at the doctor. I was a new father. I smiled and rocked my child back and forth. “Pinkerton,” I said, “Pinkerton.”

My son looked at me and smiled, his crying finally subsiding. Tear drops glistened on my glasses. “I love you, son.” I whispered.

“Tear down the wall!”

And as suddenly as that came, I was whisked away to the next. I flashed between everybody I had ever interacted with. Mare, foal, stallion, donkey, and even griffon. Their views set me awash in a wave of perception. Every life I touched, every pony I ever wronged. I was them all. All their feelings I was incapable to see at the time.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

And, in every stranger’s eyes, I saw myself for what I was.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

And I saw myself for what I could be.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a face in a crowd, going about my own business.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a filly, caught in a bombing.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a soldier, ready to die for his nation.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a waitress at a restaurant.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a protester.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a doctor.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a maid.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a teacher.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was an artist.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a nurse.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was the enemy.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a mare.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a stallion.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a filly.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a colt.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a pegasus.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a unicorn.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a griffon.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a donkey.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a leader.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a follower.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a fighter.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a lover.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a mother.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was a father.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was old.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was young.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was alive.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was dead.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was breathing.

“Tear down the wall!”

I was me.

“Tear down the wall!”

I am me.

“Tear down the wall!”

I am Pink.

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall!”

“Tear down the wall?”

“Tear down the wall?”

“Tear down the wall?”

“Tear down the wall?”

“Tear down the wall?”

“Tear down the—”

I opened my eyes.

Darkness surrounded me. I couldn’t see anything, and the oppressive sound of silence hung in the air, enveloping me. It hurt my ears just to be around, though a far cry from the chanting of earlier.

I stood with some difficulty and tried to peer through the gloom, but could see nothing but the silence that stretched out forever and ever.

After a moment of absolute nothingness, I cleared my throat and opened my mouth to speak. In an instant, the darkness receded, revealing the crowd all around me. All eyes were on me. The crowd of judges. My jury. My prosecutors. My family. My friends. My life.

With a start, I realized I didn't blame them anymore. I didn't blame me anymore. None of my fears and grudges weighed down on me any longer. I felt an innocence I knew I had never felt at any time in my life.

I smiled.

It was a matter of choice, life. Walls are unavoidable in society. Everybody has things to hide, to bury deep inside. We all tend to blame everyone and everything else for our misfortunes, and dig deeper, never realizing that, to grow, we have to own up for our own mistakes.

But, even more, not only do we have to accept our own responsibility, we have to accept the faults and actions of others as they inevitably lash out and blame others too. No one is perfect. We have to push past the barriers that separate us, truly connect, and maybe only then live happy lives.

The ones who really, truly love and care for you will walk up and down outside your wall, trying so very hard to break through. And then, when they’ve given you their all, some stagger and fall, because, after all, it’s not easy banging your heart up against some another’s wall. It is only through the struggles of life that you will ever claw your way out and things will have a chance to get better.

And things will get better, but never perfect. You will grow, and none of your pain will ever fully go away, but you will get bigger, and make that pain a smaller part of yourself. Cracks and flaws may begin to heal and smooth over, but they are ultimately still there. And that’s okay, because, with other’s support, everything will find a way.

But there always will be walls, and you should never tear one down without understanding why it was first put up. As much as they keep out the sadness, pain, and injustices of life, they also keep out the joy.

I realize that now.

I was crazy before. I finally realized the depths I sunk to in the shadow of my own wall. It consumed my mind, stripping it of sanity. I had lost my marbles, one by one.

But now I’ve found them, gathered them all back up and put them in a bag that’s somewhere inside me. I can see the light through the gaps in the bricks, see what I’ve done. I’ve found the start of my problems, the door from which I entered, and now I could work on repairing the damage I had caused.

My crime wasn’t an offensive, singular moment of emotion, of connection, of selflessness, but a lifetime devoid of it. I was the cause of my own problems, my own pain. At a young age, I built my wall to protect myself and grew up not knowing anything was wrong. And I kept adding to it, until it made me into the very sort of thing that I had wanted protection from.

I had terrorized, upset, and persecuted the poor people at my concert. I had ignored and abandoned my friends and family. I had hurt everyone around me and hated them because I thought they were the ones hurting me.

But that was all going to change.

I would be a better pony. A better husband. A better son. A better friend.

So, I sat there, in thought, a smile still gracing my lips. A smile born of true happiness. A smile of love. A smile of freedom.

With that grin set on my face, I looked each member of the crowd in the eyes, feeling no remorse. No sadness. It was just me and them. No more walls. No more masks. No more pain. Just me and you.

And they all watched me back, apprehensive at first, but then with enthusiasm. I greeted them all. Everybody I’ve ever known. Everybody was there. All of my bricks. Every moment. Every second of my life.

I walked through them, and their whispers reached me, fleeting in and out, barely indistinguishable. There was so much encouragement, so much love, so much bliss, in their words, that I could hardly walk straight.

But I managed, with some assistance. The crowd parted around me, some helping me as I went, the whispers of support growing ever larger and merging together in a harmony of beautiful voices and sounds. It spoke as everyone, as everything.

And the longer I heard it, the more it seemed to be asking a question. A question which, not long ago had been an order.

Tear down the wall?

I reached the edge of the crowd and before me was an endless white, brick wall. My wall. It stretched infinitely into the sky, disappearing into mist.

The last pony in the mob was a bespectacled, blue stallion. He smiled at me as I passed and dipped his head in greeting, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. I could sense enough. Words weren't necessary.

My father radiated pride, and I knew he loved me as much as physically possible. I could feel his respect and admiration. I could feel him encouraging me to continue, in the last legs.

And then I passed him, and the crowd and their endless wonder fell away.

I silently thanked my father and everyone else, and walked closer to my wall, greeting it like an old friend, which, of course, it was. It had been with me my entire life. Covering me. Protecting me. Killing me. Smothering me.

A single thought entered my mind as I looked at the monstrosity. I pondered it, rolling it around for a moment.

Should I?

Should I tear it down?

I knew the answer was yes. I think I knew it for a long time, but was too afraid to realize it. Too afraid of how the outside world would treat me without any sort of protection.

I was still afraid, I think. Who wouldn’t be? Life was unpredictable, and that is scary. But now, I’ve embraced that fear, internalized it. Sometimes, bad things happen, but you can’t let them defeat you. As long as you keep living and moving forward, nothing could stop you.

But I was ready now. I had spent too long locked away behind a mask.

I felt a presence walk up beside me, and I turned to see a gray stallion with vibrant pink eyes. We looked at each other and without so much as a word between us, he agreed as well.

Gray and pink.

Pink and gray.

My shattered, polarizing, drug-addled psyche needed to be whole once more.

We smiled and we embraced.

And we spoke my decision aloud. And when we did, we spoke it in only one voice. My voice.

We were finally one again.

I was finally one again.

The thunderous reproach of a million tear-stained eyes collapsed around me as I set out to destroy what I created so long ago.

I breathed out.

“Tear down the wall.”

Author's Note

Based on "The Trial"

Chapter One: A Million Tear-Stained Eyes

Chapter One: A Million Tear-Stained Eyes

Chapter One

A Million Tear-Stained Eyes

“’Go on wit'out me, Sky! I… I’m done for…’

’No! Come on Lieutenant! You can—‘

‘Vrrooomm! Screech! ‘Captain Sky, are you still here?’

‘Oi, Ace, I'm ovah ‘ere!’

‘Oh, thank Celestia, Captain! Quick, we’ve got to go! They're comin' this way! We gotta move!’

‘Really? Shit! I can’t—‘“

“Pinkerton!” I froze at the sound of my name, as did the actions of Captain Sky and Ace. “Did you just say what I think you did?! Where on earth did you hear that word?!”

My mommy's voice was angry. I was in trouble. Ears flat against my head, I fearfully peeked over my shoulder, looking for the mare who had yelled at me.

I opened my mouth to try and answer, but before I could, I was scooped up by hooves much larger than me. I dropped my action figures, letting them fall to the floor as my mommy carried me over to the couch and set me down, taking a seat beside me. She looked at me, her face stern. “Pink,” she whispered, “Pink, where’d you hear that word?”

I couldn’t meet her questioning gaze. I knew I was in trouble. Mommy only used my full name when I did something really bad. I stared past her, finding extreme interest in a stain on the cushions of the couch. I didn’t want to get in any trouble. I didn't even know why mommy was so angry in the first place.

I glanced back up at the pink mare in front of me, and began fumbling with my hooves, thinking of something to say. “Umm... W-what word are you t-talking about mommy?” I asked her finally.

She looked at me for a moment, and then her expression softened some. “Ohh, Pink,” she cooed, “You don’t even know what you did was wrong… I’m sorry that I yelled at you, sunshine.” She smiled. “You’re not in any trouble.” She patted my head reassuringly.

I blinked. “Okay,” I said simply. She wasn’t mad at me so that was good enough for me. With that done, I scooted to the edge of the couch and climbed back down to the floor to continue playing, but mommy picked me back up again and put me back beside her.

“Not so fast, Pink,” she said, ignoring my wail of protest, “I still want to know where you heard that word.”

I looked back up at her. “What word?”

Mommy sighed, visibly deflating. “Where did you hear…" She paused, her eyes glancing elsewhere, "...shit…?” she whispered finally, barely even audible.

“Oh…" I thought for a moment, not immediately sure where I had heard it. It had been only a few days ago, I remembered... I had been playing int he living room, just like today, when... "Oh, I remember!" I told her, a smile crossing my face. "I heard that from you, mommy!”

Her face scrunched up in surprise. “Ohh….” She didn't look very happy. I don't think that was the right thing to say.

“I'm sorry!” I squeaked, “That's one of those special grown-up words, isn't it?" Tears began to well up in the corners of my eyes as I looked into mommy’s dark green ones. “I just… I heard you say it one day and…and I just thought th-that it sounded cool! And… And… Please don't be angry, mommy! I-I…” I leapt into her lap, and hugged her tightly, whimpering softly.

Mommy croaked in alarm, fumbling for a response. “Oh…” she started, “Um, Pink, sunshine, don’t worry. You didn’t know any better.” She stroked my mane reassuringly. “It is a bad grown-up word. Little colts like you shouldn't ever use it. Just promise me you won’t say it anymore, all right? Can you do that for me?” She pulled me away from her shoulders, and gently kissed my forehead. “Mama was wrong in saying it, okay?”

She set me back down on the couch beside her, watching me with concern. “Alright, Pink?” she repeated.

I rubbed at my eyes, itchy from the tears that were hiding in them. I was relieved that she wasn’t mad. “Okay mommy…” I sniffled and looked back up at her. “You're still gonna let me go to school tomorrow, right?”

She chuckled and ruffled my mane. “Of course I’ll let you go, silly. Can't let you miss your first day of big-boy school, after all.” She smiled and gave me another hug.

I flung my arms around her, playfully returning the hug. "Thanks mommy! I'm so excited!"

“Oh, I just know you’ll have such a great time there, Pink. It’s a great place! You’ll make all sorts of new friends and learn so many things!” She nudged me playfully, her eyes bright with mirth. “You’ll be a big colt tomorrow.” Mommy smiled at me, and I smiled back. “Now go on and play with your toys. And remember,” she added, “no more bad words, alright?”

I silently nodded at her, slid off of the couch, and wobbled back over to my toys. As I sat back down, mommy picked up a newspaper from the table and began reading it. Once, I had asked her to tell me what she was reading, but she didn't want to tell me. It all looked boring anyways. No colors or anything. Too many words.

My toys were lying on the floor where I had left them. All two of them. Captain Sky and Ace. The both of them weren't much, but I managed to make due. Captain Sky was a white unicorn stallion, standing proud and tall in shining gold armor, just like a real captain in the army did. He was made out of some hard plastic, and was a lot more durable than his companion.

Ace, on the other hand, was a small, soft, crudely-made doll that only barely passed as a pony. He was a small, blue pegasus stallion. While he wasn't as nice looking, or as professionally made as Sky was, I loved them both equally, despite their differences.

Well… As a matter of fact, I probably liked Ace a little bit more than I did Sky, but that was only because mommy told me that daddy had made him for me before he had to go away, stitch by stitch.

I didn’t remember daddy very much, but mommy told me about him sometimes, and he seemed very nice. My eyes wandered to a picture hanging on the wall of the two of them, laughing at some unknown joke. Daddy was a blue pegasus, just like Ace was, except that daddy was wearing some glasses in the picture.

Whenever I asked mommy where he was, she always told me that he had to leave to do something important and brave just after I was born. He was in the army, she said, just like Sky was. I hoped that he at least had some shiny gold armor like Sky's. That would be pretty cool.

I sat there for few moments, studying the picture of the two of them, until a thought crossed my mind. Turning, I looked at mommy, who was still on the couch, reading the newspaper. “Mommy,” I asked her, “do you think daddy will still love me when he gets back?”

Her eyes peeked over the top of the paper, wide with shock. Quickly setting aside the paper, she scurried down to the floor and sat next to me. Her earlier, joyful expression was gone, replaced with worry and confusion. Whoops. I guess that wasn’t a nice question to ask either.

“Pink…” Her eyes wavered and glistened. “Baby… Oh, of course he’ll love you…” She stroked my mane, trying to alleviate her own sadness more so than mine. She took a deep shuddering breath, and dabbed at her own eyes. “Wha-What would make you think he wouldn’t love you? He loves us both, so, so much…” She scooted closer, wrapping me in a hug. I let myself be embraced, unsure what to do or why she was being so emotional.

After a few moments, she let me go, but still held me in her forelegs. “Oh, Pink…” she whined, her voice full of anguish, “Oh Pink, babe. Sunshine, he’ll love you with all his heart, don’t you ever forget that… He’ll be so proud when he gets back and sees what a big, strong colt you are!” She chuckled. “He’s just gone away for a while… I-I miss him every day, and I know he misses us too… Oh, Pink…” She squeezed me again, tighter this time, her assurances degrading into incoherent murmurs.

We sat on the floor for a while, rocking back and forth as she held me, though I think it was for more her benefit than mine. Occasionally, I heard whimpers of words like 'why,' 'sorry,' 'love,' or 'Pink,' but the rest of her mumblings were too disconnected for me to pick up.

I was completely at odds with the situation all the while. Mommy had never acted so… strange before. I didn’t understand what was going on, much less what I should be doing. I had obviously said something very wrong. Maybe I had said another bad word and didn’t know it? That would make sense, I suppose.

Tentatively, I hugged her back, our pink coats meshing together, and she glanced up at my face, her eyes glistening with tears on the verge of breaking loose. My gray eyes looked into her green ones, and the tips of her mouth lifted slightly, forming the beginnings of a smile. She planted a kiss of the bridge of my muzzle, but then looked away again, quiet sobs racking her body.

I frowned. This still wasn’t right. Mommy was supposed to be happy, not… like this! I glanced around the room, looking for anything that might help her or make her feel better. Eventually, my eyes fell on her cutie mark, and an idea formed in my head.

I blinked. “Mommy… what does your cutie mark mean?” I felt her grip on me slacken at the question. She wiped her face and glanced down at me, confusion dancing in her eyes. She held my gaze a few seconds longer than before.

“Pink… What are you—”

Three knocks sounded from the door, cutting her off mid-sentence. She broke away from me, patting my head rather forcefully. “Stay right there, sunshine. Mama’s gonna find out who’s at the door, okay?”

She took a deep breath, steadying herself, and smoothed down her mane and coat in an effort to look more presentable. After wiping her eyes quickly, she took a second to turn back and look at me. And then, as another series of knocks came from the door, she turned her attention back to the matter at hand. She smiled brightly, calling out sweetly, “Just a second!” to the visitor, and trotted over to the door, flinging it open, greeting the new arrival.

I quickly lost interest with what my mommy was doing, and went back to playing with Ace and Sky. Before I had been interrupted several minutes ago, they were being chased by a horse of nasty, icky mares with cooties and things. I could only imagine the horror and destruction that would ensue if they were caught; make-overs, dress-up, tea parties, and Celestia only knows what other girly things that would be forced on the two stallions.

A few seconds of silence passed by in relative peacefulness, but before I could really get into playing with Ace and Sky again, a wail of complete and utter despair came from the other room. It was a spine chilling, hair-raising moan of hopelessness and misery that echoed around my ears for a few moments, something I didn't think I could ever forget.

It was the cry of a mare who just had most everything she knew and loved stripped away from her in an instant.

My concentration broken again, I looked over at the door to see what the commotion was. Two white unicorns in golden armor were standing in the doorway, looking at everything in the house but mommy, who had backed up against the far wall, a look of grief on her face.

I was confused for a moment. I didn't recognize the two stallions, and they didn’t look all that threatening, so I wasn’t sure why mommy was so scared. It was… You know, come to think of it, Captain Sky looked a lot like the unicorns at the door. I glanced down at the doll in my hoof, and then back at the adults. The unicorns were holding a small box out to mommy, who didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with it. The stallions both looked nervous and noticeably upset, though not as much as mommy. One was shaking and kept his eyes firmly planted on the ground as if trying to ignore mommy’s wails.

I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but I had more interesting and pressing matters to attend to anyway. I held Sky up to the unicorns, comparing them side-by-side. They were practically a perfect match, though Sky filled out his armor much better than the visitors did. They almost looked too young, too small and scrawny to fit properly in the golden breastplate and helmet.

Still, there were two very real unicorns from the military standing just inside my house. I never imagined I would see a soldier up close, let alone have two visit my house. “Wow…” I muttered, as I clutched Sky to my chest, in awe at the soldiers.

I glanced down, and Ace’s small, black button eyes caught my attention, the light glinting off of them. I picked him as well, holding him just as tight as Sky. The blue pegasus doll was already beginning to show signs of wear and tear, despite his relative newness. It was starting to fray around his stitches, bits of cotton poking out in a few places. His coat was fading from his original dark blue to a light pink, for some odd reason. Even one of his wings was beginning to tear away from his body.

I had always played with both Ace and Sky about the same, but the unicorn was professionally made, so I was sure that made a difference in his durability. Ace was already beginning to fall apart, though I didn't really care. I clutched both of them to my chest the same, grinning wildly.

It was so cool that two real life soldiers were here at my door!

I looked back at mommy, and the unicorns that looked like Sky. Mommy had finally taken the box and was gazing at the top of it, her eyes empty except for tears that dripped down her face. On top of the box, there was a battered looking cap and a bent pair of glasses.

The stallions were saying something to her, trying to calm her down. Curious, and despite mommy’s orders, I slunk closer, ears attentive, hoping to hear what the strange ponies were talking about.

As I approached, mommy collapsed to the floor, breaking into hysterics. She embraced the cap from the top of the box, crying into it. The box itself fell to the floor with a soft whump, its content spilling out onto the floor. The unicorns began speaking louder, trying to be heard over my mommy’s incessant cries. My ears perked up as bits of their conversation reached me.

“We’re so very sorry ma’am, we can’t…”

“…knew him well. He was a good stallion, I’m told. This was a terrible…”

“…wasn’t anything left to bury…”

“Please accept this letter of condolence from the Princess herself…”

“…this war is hard on all of us…”

“…should be receiving your first check in…”

Mommy was still sobbing on the floor, deaf to the soldiers’ words, so the two of them eventually gave up on trying to talk to her and spoke quietly between themselves. Eventually, one of them cautiously stepped fully into the house and snuck over to mommy who was still bawling into the hat. He awkwardly bent down, and smiled at mommy, and she collapsed into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder. He looked surprised for a moment, but then relaxed, patting her reassuringly on the back.

I turned my attention to the box that had fallen to the floor, everything withing now able to be seen. I inched closer so that I could see the objects with greater detail. The thing nearest to me was a medal of some kind; a small, purple-colored, metal sun. I picked it up and turned it over in my hooves, feeling its cold, untarnished surface. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was so I set it aside, and went through the other objects.

There was a canteen, a few papers with big words I didn’t understand, a folded Equestrian flag, and many other things that didn’t interest me. My eyes skimmed over the rest of the items before settling on a photo. I picked it up and looked at it. A young pink mare and an equally young blue pegasus stared out back at me, smiling at something unseen.

I only recognized one pony in it. The pink mare was mommy.

I wasn't sure about the other.

Meanwhile though, the young unicorn was still trying to comfort mommy, though he yielded no results. Her cries drowned out any attempts he made of trying to quiet her down and she held him in a tight grip, refusing to let go. His partner watched from the doorway, concerned, yet slightly amused by the scene in front of him.

By now, my interest had been piqued enough for me to want to know what was happening. I crept over to the three, unnoticed by any of them. I could tell by his face that the one unicorn had no idea how to help mommy, just like I didn’t. His hooves hovered over her body, shaking with indecision as if he was unsure what to do with them. I’m sure he didn’t want my mommy sobbing into his shoulder.

He didn’t see me approach, but as I did, I could hear the faintest whispers of his voice as he spoke to her. “Shhhh…” he murmured, “It’s all alright, don’t worry…”

Hesitantly breaking my silence, I spoke as well, “He-hey, Mr. Unicorn…” I stumbled over my words. “Wha-w-what's going on…?”

At the sound of my voice, the stallion froze and slowly turned around. Seeing me, his face drained of color, if that was even possible, and his hooves violently pushed mommy away from him. He quickly stood up, and backed away from me, shaking his head vigorously, as if he was terrified at the very sight of me. “Oh, sweet Celestia, they have a foal!” he cried out in distress, tears welling up in his eyes, “Oh, no… She has a foal; he had a foal… oh... Oh Celestia…”

Tripping over his own hooves, he half ran, half fell over to the door, and to his partner who was also not meeting my gaze. “Oh Celestia!” exclaimed the first unicorn, still panicking, “I-I can’t do this anymore! Every day it’s the same damn thing with every widow we visit!” He covered his mouth with his hoof, biting back his tears. “I never— I didn’t sign up for this! To tell these mares that…that they'll never see their husbands again! It’s… It’s fucking bullshit! I… I can’t… Oohhh…” He whimpered for a moment, his energy suddenly giving out. He glanced at me again, his eyes wide, and then shoved past his partner, leaving the house.

I sat there in shock, bewildered at what just happened. I looked at mommy who was still lying on the floor, stroking the hat, and then looked at the lone unicorn standing at the door. He matched my gaze, his eyes clouded with gloom. He sighed and glanced down at the ground, hiding his face with his helmet. He muttered under his breath, “Dammit…”

When he looked back up, his eyes were resolute and a smile danced on his face. He gulped audibly. “We’re-We’re sorry, ma’am, for the bad news… We’ll…. We’ll leave you alone now…” He turned to leave, grasping the door in his magic, cast one forlorn look over his shoulder, and shut the door, leaving the foyer in darkness.

The clicking of the door’s latch echoed in my ears for a moment before leaving me in silence, save for the whimpers of mommy. She had curled up into a ball on the floor now, completely ignoring her surroundings. She was still crying into the hat.

Today wasn’t a good day so far.

It hadn’t gone right at all.

Faintly, I could hear some voices, yelling, shouting coming from outside.

The two guards weren't happy either.

Things weren’t right for anypony.

“Mommy… Mommy, what happened…?” I crept closer to her, wishing that I knew what I could do to fix this. She didn't respond, seemingly avoiding my question. I wasn't sure she even heard me. She sat there, stock still, numb, and unmoving, unable to do anything but clutch the hat and cry.

My mind was reeling, still trying to process what had just happened.

Mommy wasn’t her normal happy self today.

I didn’t know what was wrong.

Or what I could do.

I stared at her, struggling to think of anything to do, something to say, but my mind was blank.

I wasn't able to do anything, and she was obviously in pain.

I could only sit there and watch her.

Things were wrong. So very wrong. Even I could see that. But everything had happened much too, and I could barely think straight.

Finally, my mind drifted to the question I had asked before, before the unicorns showed up, before mommy became all sad again.

I couldn’t think of anything else.

“Mommy…” I tugged at her leg, a little harder than normal. She gave a choked cry and looked at me, her eyes red and puffy, and her face streaked with tears. She didn't say anything. “Mommy,” I continued, “you never told me what your cutie mark meant...”

Her eyes came into focus as I asked the question, as if she had just realized that I was there. I was almost scared by her appearance; she didn’t look anything like the mommy I normally saw, but I knew it was her. A bit of mascara ran down from her eyes, making her eye sockets look sunken and dark. Her normally flat, bluish-gray hair was beginning to unfurl in places. Her eyes themselves looked empty and devoid of life.

Just a little over ten minutes ago, we’d been sitting on the floor, without a care in the world, but now all of that was turned upside down. Shattered.

And she just continued to look at me. Her eyes were seeing me, but her mind wasn’t registering that I was there. She looked confused, as if she wasn’t sure if she had heard something or not, so I repeated my question.

Her eyes widened in realization, and she truly looked at me. Her lips rose in a feeble smile, before falling again. “Pink…” A sigh escaped her mouth, and her eyes shimmered with water again. She lifted me into her lap and gripped me tightly. We were silent for a moment, only a small sob occasionally escaping her lungs.

“Pink, I…” She broke off, a shuddering moan stopping her from talking further. For a moment, green eyes met gray eyes, and she stroked my mane, running her hooves through my hair. She smiled. “What my cutie mark means, Pink, is that I will always love you. I… I will always take ca-care of you and I will never ever let you out of my sight.” She paused again, planting a kiss on my snout. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, my sunshine. I won’t let anypony hurt you. Mama’s gonna keep you right here, safe and warm…"

She fought back another sob, and shut her eyes forcefully. "I love you so much, Pink. I love you… Everything will be alright, don’t worry…” She lapsed back into tears once more, and clutched me tight.

I hugged her back. I think she needed it.

“I love you too mommy…”

Author's Note

Based on “The Thin Ice”

Interlude: Behind Gray and Paranoid Eyes

Interlude

Behind Gray and Paranoid Eyes

Pink

Gray

HELP

Whatever has happened to you?

What had to be done. I'm perfectly happy now.

HELP ME

And what have you lost?

I haven’t lost a thing. I'm perfectly happy here.

WHERE AM I

Gray

And

Pink

Pink

And

Gray

Is there truly nothing wrong?

There's nothing to be upset about. I am happy.

I FEEL SO EXPOSED

Do you not feel scared?

Not at all. This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I AM SO AFRAID

Goodbye

Hello

.

.

CAN'T THINK

This was not a good idea.

Help me

Is there anybody out there?

I can hear something, out there

I can hear you

Help

CAN'T SPEAK

HELP

...

Chapter Twenty-Four: Outside the Wall

So, in case you didn’t see my BLOG POST about it, I’m not going to be finishing this story. I’m just burned out on it at this point, and I don’t think it’ll ever get done.

But, instead of just leaving everyone hanging without finishing this final chapter, I’m posting everything I have written so far, and detailed notes to explain out everything that I hadn’t.

What you’re seeing here is the first draft of this chapter. I’ve done no major editing or revisions to it. Normally, I would’ve gone over and refined everything countless more times until I was fully satisfied with it, but this is about as good as it’s going to get. It’s basically only snippets of scenes, rough dialogue, and drabblings of whatever other ideas I had.

Large gaps in between paragraphs are just that. Just bits and bobs I wrote, but never connected to each other.

I really am truly sorry, but I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I think that this is the only thing to do.

Please enjoy this sort-of conclusion to Bricks in the Wall. It’s been four years coming.

Again, sorry.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Outside the Wall

Don’t know where…

…Don’t know when…

…But I know we’ll meet again…

…some sunny day…

Ever so slowly, I opened my eyes.

Harsh sunlight greeted me, beaming down from on high.

It was morning now.

I had fallen asleep.

But now I was awake.

I took a deep breath in.

And then I let it out.

I tried to move, but I found myself unable to. My entire body was numb and unresponsive. A powerful headache was throbbing inside of my skull. I tried to clench my hoof, but I couldn’t find it.

For the briefest of moments, I was lost in my own body.

Floating.

Flying.

But then it all came down.

I blinked, my eyes refocusing in front of me.

A blotch patch of tan swan in the center of my vision.

My skin felt like needles as feeling gradually returned to my body, bit by bit.

A low moan escaped my lips, and I shifted in discomfort.

My joints felt tight and inflamed.

All my muscles, sore and raw.

The entire right half of my body was cold and wet, soaking in some sort of liquid.

I was lying on the ground.

I blinked again, and with an unsteady push, I tried to lift myself up, only to fall back down almost instantly. The small puddle of questionable fluids I pooled around my face.

But then, I felt a presence.

A hoof on my back.

My eyes rolled forward, towards the tan blob from before. The longer I held my gaze, the more it seemed to shift into focus.

It was a pony, that much I could tell.

It said something, I think. I couldn’t hear it. My ears were all muffled.

The pony lifted me up into a seated position and propped my back up against a wall.

Another groan came out me as my head lolled forward, my neck unable to support it.

I was shaking. It was all my body seemed capable of doing at the moment.

I tried to move a leg, to do anything, but my muscles still wouldn’t seem to listen to me.

All I seemed capable of doing properly at the moment was feeling.

Cold.

Wet.

Thirsty.

Hungry.

Scared.

Sad.

The stallion, for that was what he was, was saying something again. Still, I couldn’t hear it. He lifted my head up and spoke directly to me, but his features were still all blurry.

I tried to speak, but my mouth didn’t move correctly. All the words got stuck in my throat and wouldn’t come out.

All I managed to do was get out a sort of garbled mess of my intended sentence, but I got the impression that the stallion was happy even about that.

Then, there was a welling in my chest. A powerful force that exploded outwards in a violent, racking cough. My lungs burned. My throat felt as if it tore. My entire body shook. My head went light as I didn’t get a chance to get enough air in.

And still, the coughing continued, for nearly a full minute.

But then, just as suddenly as it came, it broke away, leaving me dazed and drained.

I blinked.

Everything fell down into place.

The haze over my vision cleared, revealing the concerned expression of the tan pegasus in front of me, Short.

I shifted one of my forelegs, my motor controls returning to me.

And then the cotton fell out my ears.

“…ere you are. How’re you doin’, Pinky?” A smile broke out across his face.

Short took another step towards me. He prodded me gently and I groaned again, only to break into a coughing fit.

When that had subsided, I looked up at Short’s concerned face and opened my mouth. “H-hey, buddy…” I croaked out, my voice dry and sore. “Fancy meetin’ you here.”

He chuckled. “Me an’ the police have been searchin’ for you for half the night.” He sat down on the ground next to me and sighed. “You’re in some deep shit, Pinky, after the stunts you pulled.”

“…The police…?” I forced out the words, looking at him.

Short nodded somberly. “Yeah…” He didn’t meet my gaze. “Pink, I ain’t gonna sugarcoat it, but you went crazy last night. Right off the fuckin’ deep end. You destroyed the stage, drove off the audience, assaulted a Royal Guard, and ran off into the night, vandalized private property, an’…” he trailed off for a moment, “An’ you just about permanently maimed three or four ponies, including a colt…”He raised his head up, looking at me. “Pink, I don’t know what charges are gonna be thrown at ya, but it ain’t gonna be good. The Princess herself is involved…”

I nodded, numbly accepting what Short was saying.

Whatever had come over me last night…I barely even wanted to acknowledge it.

We sat in silence for some seconds, until I noticed the bandages wrapped around Short’s chest and abdomen. Come to think of it, he had several bruises all over his body, barely visible, but there. I winced as I remembered that I had even attacked him last night.

“Short,” I started, and then stopped, and then began again. “Short, I… Are you okay? I beat you pretty bad last night, didn’t I?”

“Ehh, it’s nothin’ too bad.” He looked down at the bandages himself. “The doctors just wanted me to be protected since I was gonna be searching the streets for you. The worst you did was break a rib. You know that I’ve had worse.”

I shook my head, my eyes wide. “No, but I was the one who did it. It’s not okay. I broke your ribs—”

“A rib,” he corrected.

“Still,” I continued, “I lost control, and I hurt you, and I hurt other ponies even more I don’t—”

“Pink,” he cut me off again, “you weren’t yourself. I know you, and whatever happened last night was not your fault. I don’t know what happened, but it was out of your control.”

“I… But it was still me, Short. I did all of that stuff…”

“No. You weren’t in the right state of mind when I found you in the hotel room before, an’ I was so impatient to get you up an’ to the show that I let that doctor shove whatever he wanted into you. That was what caused everything, set everythin’ in motion.”

I didn’t respond. My eyes drifted across the wall in front of us. Whatever drugs the doctor had shot me up with may have played into the equation, but I was still the primary reason everything happened, in my eyes. It all had to culminate sometime.

“I’m going clean,” I said.

“Hmm?”

“The drugs, the booze. All of it. I want to get—I need to get off of it all. I can’t live like that anymore. It’s all almost killed me a couple a’ times before. I need to quit.”

“Oh! Finally! I—Well, I think that’s a great idea! You have no idea how worried me an’ Rêves were about you.”

Almost instantly upon hearing my wife’s name, by heart dropped like a stone. I would have to confront her at some point. Whatever consequences I would be facing with the law seemed less imposing than having to talk with her.

“Has she heard about…all this?” Vague.

“Prolly not. This all just happened, so it’ll be at least a day ‘fore it’s in the paper.”

“I think we’re gonna have to cancel the rest of the tour. I don’t think I’m up to doing it anymore.”

This caused Short to burst out laughing. “Yeah, you think? As much as it pains me, we’re gonna have to refund everyone’s tickets. They won’t like it, but once news of all this breaks, it’ll be a big scandal. I’ll have to be workin’ hard to deal with everything when it hits.”

I stared down at the floor. “I’m sorry, Short.” I said quietly. “Sorry for all of this. I’m a terrible friend. I treated you so bad over the past few years, an’ I’ve just about killed myself and ended everything we’ve worked for, an’…”

“Don’ worry about it,” is what he said. “I haven’t exactly been the best of friends to you either lately. We both just got caught up in ourselves, we’ll try now, won’t we?”

I smiled, I think the first time since I woke up. “We’ll try, Short. I’ll try to be better. Right now,” I took a deep breath, “Right now, I feel better than I’ve felt in years. I know it sounds cheesy, but it feels like a shroud has been lifted from my mind, and I just feel so clear right now. I feel happy.”

I placed a hoof on the ground and slowly stood up off of the floor. I made it about halfway up before my foreleg gave way and I collapsed back to the hard floor.

Short sighed and offered a hoof, steadying my body.

So, Short finds Pink in the alleyway, just as he comes back to. After Pink wakes up some, they talk for a while and reconcile. Pink, now having broke through his wall, promises to do better. He has realized that he needs help and has issues he needs to get over, and wants to begin the process of healing himself.

He decides to cancel the rest of his tour and withdraw from the public for a while, which is reasonable considering he went crazy, attacked people, went on a rampage, and caused a fair bit of property damage. Short apologizes for being a bad friend, but Pink rebukes him and apologizes himself. Short feels somewhat guilty for allowing his friend to descend to such depths and not try to help. He willfully ignored Pink's worsening mental state, instead caught up in managing Pink's music career.

With some struggle, the two of them exit the alley. Short leads Pink to Princess Celestia, and she and Pink talk. If you remember, Celestia attended his concert. The two of them talked briefly backstage, and then later, he insulted her before running off and tearing up the town. There needed to be some closure between the two of them. She is personally invested in finding him, not just because she was directly involved during the concert, but also because she feels like Pink is going through something similar to Luna's own descent into madness and wants to help.

“Mister Pink.” Her face was unreadable as we approached her. “I’m glad to see you have been found.”

As we stopped in front of her, I bowed deeply, my snout nearly scrapping the ground. “P-princess Celestia,” I replied hesitantly, unsure how exactly to act.

“You said some very unbecoming things about me, right to my face. There are not many who have the gall to do so.

She smiled. “I am known for giving second chances to those who I believe deserve it. She leaned closer, “And I believe I am going to be giving even more in the near future.”

I blinked. “Uhh…”

“I…” For a moment, I saw her composure slip, her calm, loving smile fall. And then, it was back. “And I believe that I will begin with you.” She straightened, her commanding presence all the more imposing. I felt as if I should let her talk. “A long time ago, I failed to properly address another’s distress, sadness, and eventual anger, a mistake that has haunted me all my days since.

“When we met last night, I could sense that there was something off. There was great conflict and anger in your mind, and I can tell now that it has all but completely dissipated. I do not wish to pry into the particulars, but I am glad that you have found peace with yourself.

“As such, I feel inclined to give you a second chance. On the condition that nothing like this will ever occur again, you will not be going to prison or have any charges levied against you. However, you will be paying for all of the property damage you caused, as well as the hospital bills for the ponies who you injured. Do you understand?”

I took a deep breath and looked up at her, nodding my head. “Crystal clear.”

Her face hardened for a moment. “But, do keep in mind that whatever happens next is entirely up to you, and, while I am giving you this chance to right your wrongs, I am not likely to give you a third. Whatever befalls you in the years to come, you will be held accountable.

They then part ways.

Short and Pink say a few more words to each other, and then Pink leaves to go home and confront his wife, Rêves. Last we heard of her, Pink believes that she is having an affair, which becomes the last straw for him and causes him to snap and retreat into himself.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

The scene now jumps to him getting home and working up the nerve to go inside and speak to his wife.

I stood outside my house, watching.

A hundred excuses as do why I couldn’t go in yet ran through my mind, but I knew I was only delaying the inevitable. I had to go home sometime and face what was waiting inside for me.

My wife.

I had loved the mare since we first met, all those years ago in school. We had known each other most of our lives; been together through thick and thin, though apparently more thin than thick.

I think I knew we were growing distant over the years, but I could never admit it to myself.

Eventually, he goes in the door and calls out for Rêves. She doesn't answer. Pink searches all around the house, but she is nowhere to be found. He is incredible saddened and thinks that she has left him for good.

Then, the door opens, and she comes in, coming home from shopping or something. Upon seeing him, she drops all of her bags and rushes over to hug him, but stops short before she gets to him. Things are very awkward between them for a few moments, but then she tells him that she's glad he's okay, having already seen the news about his freak-out the previous day.

After some small talk, Pink confronts her about cheating on him. She sighs and admits to doing so, but that she regrets it immensely. It had only been the first time and had come about purely by accident, meaning she hadn't planned on doing so, but that it just sort of happened.

Pink understands why she did what she did. He had been immeasurably worse, what with all the drugs and drinking, and the fact that he never hid that fact that he cheated on her multiple times. He was horrible to her, and he was in such a bad place, mentally, that he considers it amazing that she even stuck around through all of the pain and suffering he put her through. He apologizes profusely, forgiving her for cheating on him, and is fully prepared to let her leave if she didn't want to be with him any longer.

But she too forgives him, and if he is truly wanting to do better and start over, then she was going to stay with him. They both do love each other very much.

She stiffened at my touch, as if it was unfamiliar to her, but then leaned into it, returning my embrace.

It wasn't going to be easy, repairing what we had. It would take time and a lot of effort on both our parts, but maybe-maybe-we would find eachother again.

We would try and make it work.

I would try, harder than I've ever before.

I loved her.

They reconcile and he promises to get rid of all drugs, alcohol, and other vices in the house.

After a while, Rêves mentions maybe that Pink should go visit his mom and talk with her, since he hasn't seen her in years. He had been willfully ignoring his mom for many years now.

He agrees and says he’ll swing by his old house in a few days. Rêves is confused by this and reveals that Pink’s mom has been living in an assisted living home for quite a few years now. Pink had been so out of it and his mind so addled that he had completely forgotten that her health was failing. Or did he ever even know that she was in such a worse shape?

Regardless, Pink and Rêves spend the rest of the day together and eventually go to sleep, safe and happy in each other's embrace.

And I reached out a hoof just to touch her soft hair, just to make sure in the darkness that she was still there.

And I have to admit I was just a little afraid.

But then, she turned her head to face mine and I knew I’d never have to be alone again.

I loved her.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

I froze when the building first came into view. I stood there, on the corner of the street, a few other ponies muttering angrily and manuvering around me, and just stared, thoughts of guilt and dread dripping over me.

The sign read The Fletcher Memorial Assisted Living Home.

Scene change to Pink standing outside the [Fletcher Memorial] Assisted Living Home (I wasn't quite sure if I would name it that or not), lamenting his relationship with his mom. I specifically have switched over to referring to her as his mom, as opposed to mother, as mom is much more familiar and loving than mother. I do the same thing with his dad/father.

He enters and talks to the receptionist. She recognizes Pink, since he is famous. She is disgusted and angered over his actions at the concert and insults him. Pink meekly takes it, knowing that she is right. After some more pointed discussion, she reluctantly points him in the direction of his mom.

He walks through the nursing home, looking at all the varied ponies living there and has a few moments of quiet introspection about his mom and how terrible of a son he was to her.

He reaches her room and enters.

“Well hello there, sweetie.” She smiled brightly at me. “Are you the new nurse they’ve been telling me about?”

I jerked and stopper halfway to her bed. “What?” I took a step. “I…I—No. No, it’s me, mom, Pink. Your son…?” I approached her bedside.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, merely Squinting at me, studying my face. Then she gave a dry chuckle. “Now, don’t try and pull wool over my eyes, sweetie. My baby Pink is still in grade school.”

He enters the room and she doesn’t recognize him. He realizes that she has Alzheimer’s or something. She has forgotten him. He tries several times to jog her memory or convince her of who he is, but she doesn't believe him. She only wants to see her little Pink, who she still thinks is in elementary school or what have you.

He is sad that he’ll never get to really talk to his mother again. He missed out on the time she was lucid, and they would never be able to properly reconcile. Instead, he speaks lovingly to her, apologizing and talking out his feelings in a roundabout way.

At some point, this transitions to her reminiscing hard about young Pink and how much she loved him. She rambles on about how, after losing her husband in the war, she just wanted to keep her son safe from anything that could hurt him, because she couldn't bare to lose him as well. She touches on how she could be a little overbearing at time (a lot over bearing, as Pink remembers), but that she loves her son more than anything else in the world. Yet, she is afraid of pushing him away, which is what ended up happening.

It's sad.

She then talks about his father briefly, before talking about his school a lot. She seems to recognize that Pink is having some issues at school and with his teacher, but then lapses into silence, forgetting anyone is in the room with her.

Pink tries to start up conversation with her again, and this time, it seems that she may recognize him as her son, but then thinks he is a nurse again.

This crushes Pink's resolve. After looking at some pictures she has scattered about, he says goodbye to her, goes to kiss her, but instead gives her a half hug, feeling awkward to do otherwise.

With one last look at his mom, he leaves, hoping to return soon.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Scene change. Inspired by his mother’s talk of his school, and because I needed some sort of reason for him to confront his old teacher, Pink returns to his school, hoping to find Sir the griffon. As luck would have it, Sir still teaches there.

After reminiscing about his schooldays, he finds Sir’s classroom, and as he goes to knock, the bell rings, and the schoolfoals burst out of the room. Inside the room is a much older, feebler Sir. Pink introduces himself and Sir invites him in.

The door swung open, revealing a hunched, grizzled griffon, wobbling on his cane.

A gaggle of foals poured out from the room.

“See you tomorrow!” he called after them, a small smile perched on his beak.

“Sir…?” I asked hesitantly, suddenly realizing I could not even remember his name.

“Yeah?” he said gruffly. “What you want?”

"M-my name is Pink..." He continues to look at me, an eyebrow raised. "I, uh, used to be your student a number of years ago..."

I can't exactly read his expression, but his eyes seemed much kinder than I remembered.

"Pinkerton?" he said.

I nodded slightly.

His eyes looked past me for a moment, but then he jerked his head, motioning for me to follow him, and then wobbled back over to his desk.

They get to talking, Sir mentions that none of his students ever believe him when he tells them that he used to teach such a famous musician. Then, guessing why Pink is there, Sir apologizes profusely about the way he treated Pink and the other students all those years ago. He then assures Pink that he has since changed his tune and that his students like him.

Pink eventually asks why Sir why he always needed a cane. Sir tells a story about how his late wife (good riddance, he might add) was a loud, brash, proud, traditional griffon, and that the two of them never truly got along as well as they should have. When the war came about, she urged him to enlist, which he did so, reluctantly.

He was shipped out and was on the battlefront, when, after seeing all the death and destruction, he decided he really couldn’t go through with fighting. He was a coward. He begged with superiors to be sent home, but they wouldn’t let him. So, out of desperation, and some alcohol, he picks up a claw hammer and breaks his own leg, so he wouldn’t be able to fight.

The doctors fix him up as best they could and sent him back home, where his wife is deeply disappointed in him. To her, this was their chance to finally gain some respect and clout with other traditional griffon families, especially since they were already looked down on for living in Equestria. This eventually slips into a pattern of abuse, first verbal and then physical. He is cowardly and weak and doesn’t fight back and takes all the abuse.

Sir, having taken up a job teaching while this goes on, begins to take his frustrations out on his students. Also, alcohol. He gets drunk a lot, sometimes even during school, which, he tells Pink, is something he is most ashamed about. This leads to him abusing his own students, since they are the only thing that he can control in his life.

At some point, his wife left him for some stronger, more powerful griffon. This devastates Sir, because, at some level, he still did love her. He drifts for a while, did some soul searching, gets better, and then come back to teach at the school, striving to do better.

Then, the school bell rings, and the next class comes in.

Pink thanks Sir for his time, and then leaves.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Scene change to an undisclosed train station. Spurned by Sir’s talk of war and his mom's talk of his dad, Pink decides to visit his dad's grave for the first time ever. He walks through the town to his destination, thinking about how he never really knew his dad. His dad was buried in another city, in a war cemetery along with many other soldiers.

He eventually reaches the gates.

There were ponies around me, but I hardly even acknowledged they were there.

My breath went in and out in shallow intervals as I walked down the street, my hooves practically moving of their own accord.

There, just on the other side of the street, was my destination.

Time seemed to slow as I stared up at the large, wrought iron gates.

‘The Fletcher Memorial National Cemetery’ was what the sign said.

Somewhere, among the gravestones, was where my dad was buried.

I didn’t know where exactly, as I had never once came to visit before. My mom had come here many a time when I was young, but I could never bring myself to as well.

But now, it was time.

I took a deep breath in and walked across the road.

The gates were shut

Here, I just want to point out the name of the cemetery. Fletcher Memorial. Now, in several different chapters, during Pink's hallucinations or dream sequences, there were many different people and places named Fletcher. The reason for that, which we find out here, is because Fletcher Memorial is where his dad is buried, and Pink sort of internalized that fact, and it popped up several times in his subconscious during the events of the story.

Anyways, Pink then enters the cemetery and searches for his dad's grave. He finds it, and there is some young, pink mare mourning at the grave next to his father’s. Pink looks at the grave for a while, unsure what to do or say. Wishes he had brought some flowers, as the grave the mare is at is bursting with flowers.

The mare next to him speaks up, asking if Pink thought they knew each other. Confused, Pink asks for clarification, because he doesn't know the mare. She further explains she was talking about her grandfather, the grave she was at, and Pink's father, as they both served in the war, and had died on the same day. Pink admits he doesn’t know.

The mare then talks about how she likes to think they did, and that maybe neither of them had died alone. She then explains about how she never knew her grandfather, but her granny always used to tell stories about him, one of which she relays to Pink, and makes him laugh.

Pink then tentatively tells her how his dad died when he was very young, and that he never really knew him. He doesn't have any stories to tell her about his dad.

He then mentions how this is the first time he has ever visited his dad's grave. The mare is surprised by this and decides to leave Pink alone so he can have some time alone with his dad. He thanks her, and she leaves.

Now alone, Pink talks to his father, about how much he missed him growing up, and how much he admired him. He tells him how he used to be angry, but now accepts his death. A lot of emotional stuff gets outpoured here, since this is the catalyst and beginning of all of Pink's issues. Something about how his dad's death wouldn’t be in vain any longer, now that Pink has decided to be a better pony and connect with life and all of his friends and family. pink promises to be someone that his dad could be proud of.

If one does not tear down their own metaphorical wall, those trying to get in and connect with you will eventually give up and leave you to your own lonely life. This is almost what happens to Pink.

The moral of the story: Though there will always be personal and social barriers created out of fear, oppression, pain, and isolation, it's the job of every socially conscious individual and community to never rest in tearing down the walls that separate us all.

I stared down at the tombstone for the very first time.

His tombstone.

Below my hooves was the body of my dad.

I wasn’t sure what to do.

What to say.

What to think.

So, I don’t for some time.

I simply look.

My eyes stare at the words written on the stone, but I don’t fully comprehend what they say.

I could see his name, his day of birth, his day of death, and the cliché, pleasant words that assured anyone who looked that he was both a loving husband and father.

Some words form in the back of my throat, and I open my lips to speak, but my mouth had suddenly grown dry. Nothing comes out save for a strangled gasp.

I clamp my mouth shut and then take a deep breath.

“Hey, dad,” is what I managed to say, though even that was barely a whisper.

And I grew silent again.

I glanced over at the grave next to him, where the young mare had been. Her grandfather.

After a minute, my eyes find their way elsewhere, anywhere else, but then fall down to my hooves.

I sigh.

“I, uh… I missed you.”

There was no answer, save for a single, chirping bird in the distance.

I continue. “You know, when I was younger, I used to be so angry that you were gone. I thought it was so unfair that you had left me and mom. You just had to go and get yourself killed, you know?” I let out a dry chuckle.

The words flowed out easier now.

“I love you so much, dad.”

As I walk out, there is an elderly pegasus stallion digging a fresh grave under a large oak tree. He looks up as I go past, tipping his hat in greeting, his crinkled eyes smiling out from behind his glasses, and then goes back to his work.

I smile at him, mutter a hello, and then continue past.

At the gate, I glance back behind me, taking one last look at my father’s grave. I knew I would come by again sometime later, maybe even with Rêves or even my mom, if I could.

I hardly even notice that the blue pegasus stallion had vanished from under the tree.

Pink then leaves and returns home, feeling fulfilled and emotionally cleansed.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Scene change, to Canterlot, the night of the 1000th Summer Sun Celebration. If Pink's initial touring schedule had continued, he would've ended back up in Canterlot on this night, to perform in a gigantic concert that celebrated the event.

Instead, there is nothing of the sort happening, and everything is calm and quiet. So, Pink and Rêves are out and about in the city, spending an evening together having a wonderful time celebrating the holiday. This is something they used to together do before Pink got too famous and then lost himself to drugs and alcohol.

They might share a dinner or something, but eventually end up at the very stadium that Pink would’ve been performing at, had he not canceled his tour. It's not illegal to be there, since its open to the public when not is use. There are a few other ponies there, but no one pays them any mind.

They sit on stage, curled together, and watch the stars. Pink reflects about how great everything is is now and how much he loves his wife. He knows that he will never go back to how he was before, and he doesn’t know how he even let things get that way in the first place.

He is happy.

As the two of us sat together under the stars.

My beautiful wife looked into my eyes and she smiled. And I couldn’t help but to smile back. Neither of us wanted to break the peaceful moment, and we had no need to. Wordless understanding passed between the two of us, as gray eyes stared into blue ones.

‘I love you,’ that understanding said, ‘Everything will turn out alright, you’ll see...’

Rêves nuzzled into my chest, perfectly content to sit there with me and watch the starry night grow older. Our entwined bodies generated more than enough heat to carry us through the frigid night.

As we sat there, I thought about the concert I almost had on this night. I could virtually imagine the stagehooves running to and fro, carting all sorts of equipment across the stage. Outside the cover of the curtains, the crowd would be waiting anxiously for the concert to begin. Short would probably be panicking, making sure everything was going smoothly. Most likely, I would be sitting somewhere backstage, making sure I knew what I had to do, what lyrics to sing, and getting in the way of every other pony who had something important to do.

If I listened hard enough, I could almost hear hundreds of ponies chanting my name, my name. The curtains would part, revealing me and the band in an explosion of music, smoke and lights. After a moment, I would step forward to the microphone and—

A pair of moist lips presses against the side of my snout, interrupting my thoughts. Rêves smiles at me, shifts around and leans her head against my shoulders. Her warm fur presses up against me, a feeling I never appreciated how much I missed. I love her. I realize that now. None of what could’ve been mattered. Only the here and now.

I gently touch the spot where Rêves had kissed me and I glance down to see my wife’s loving face looking back up at me, and I know, I know, that I couldn’t stand another moment away from her.

The two of us together, we sit there under the stars and moon and my mind finally feels at peace. I finally feel whole.

And now, as I think back on everything, I realize that, for what is probably the first time in my life, I am truly happy. I smile and hold my wife closer.

My life may have been filled with twists and turns, pain and loneliness, but I was now here, and all of that was behind me.

Everything was going to be alright from here on in.

Forever and ever.

And yet...as I lay here, I can't help but reminisce about how I got here.

And now, I find myself thinking...

“Isn’t this where…

Author's Note

Based on “Outside the Wall"

And so, we are finally done. I know that this isn't the most satisfying way to end this, but at least it's something. I really am sorry.

Make sure you click on that link on the last sentence there, though, because it brings us back to the very beginning chapter, where the first few paragraphs link into the last few here, and the story restarts.

It’s been a wild ride, filled with a lot of ups and downs, and I can only hope that I did Pink Floyd’s epic album justice, even though I didn't finish it. This all certainly exceeded the expectations I had for it when I started to write it, especially the amount of time it would take to get here.

I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you all had just as good a time reading it, even with this lackluster ending.

See you around.