I’m not crazy, they are…
The walls are grey. Such a boring color that can’t express anything, but the bleak and dull emotions I feel here. If I hated any color, it was probably grey. I just sat against the wall listening to the noises outside. Usually it was the guards making small talk, but sometimes it got loud. I hated it when the outside was loud. Sometimes it was the ‘plip…plip’ sounds the water would make outside.
I pushed my bed to the wall adjacent from it. I climbed on top of it and looked down at my little piece of heaven. The window was the best part of this awful place. Outside I could see the nice colors, the ones that weren’t gut-wrenching grey. The stupid bars kept me from climbing out, and getting my sweet freedom, but me being on the third story did that too. Being so high up was also gave me the wonderful view, so it was the worst place I could be put. I wonder if I was put here so I would like it. I liked to think that people liked me as much.
I put a hoof on one of the walls, and I matched the emotion of its color, and I felt the smooth cement wall. I liked the small scraping sound it would make when I did that. I smiled as I recalled my first memories with this wall. It had a few chips and such here and there from force damage I had inflicted upon it. I can still see the first mark I ever made in this cell. That had been…five years ago?
Time was very hard to keep track of when the days just blurred together. Then again, what was time to me anymore? It isn’t like it’s something that I depend on now. In fact I think I am lucky to not have to worry about silly things like time. I would see ponies rushing about everywhere because they were “going to be late.” Who cares if you’re late, I would always think. No one ever lived where they were at; they lived where they needed to be. I can’t say I wasn’t guilty of following “Father Time’s” rules though. If this cell has done any good, it has showed me how to live.
I traced circles around my cell and began to hum a nice tune. I loved music. It was such a powerful thing. It could move you to do great things like go get the mare, or stallion, you love. Turn the coin around, though, and it could move you to do terrible things. Like murder. I frowned at the thought. I couldn’t stand to remember all the times I heard about murder. It was a disgusting thing. To take a pony’s life, and most of the time not even knowing who it was, it was shameful. I kept the rhythmic circles going and going.
My cell was nice and cool today. I wish we had air conditioning, but I doubt I would get the luxury of it anyway. I hated the winter months in here. They could get downright awful. The cold could bite in to you like a snake, the only difference is that the cold didn’t go away for months. Last year it was literally freezing, and when I told someone about it, expecting another blanket or something, you know what they did? The two guards stationed outside at the time laughed at me and said, “Deal with it.” I hated them so much.
On the other hoof, I love winter. I just hate it being cold. The beautiful white landscape was amazing in Ponyville. I could see all of the wonderful white fields of snow going on seemingly forever. Whenever it got like this I imagined that everypony got a new start. After all New Years is during this time, but the snow seemed to cover up everything. Then, once the snow melted away, it was like everyone was different. The snow changed them usually before the better. The ponies weren’t the only ones who changed, either. Everything could end up different, and you could never predict it. Buildings could be destroyed, fields gone, or ponies could even die. It’s funny how so many things can be destroyed by these white little crystals.
I liked unpredictable things. Who likes things to be perfectly in place all the time anyway? A little chaos never hurt anyone. In fact it’s those things that can help you be someone else.
I wish I was someone else…
Then I hear the faint ‘ssss…’ sounds coming from the pipes. I sighed and laid down on my bed. At least the bed was decent. The pillow wasn’t flat and the sheets were acceptable. The mattress felt like I was sleeping on springs only though. It’s funny how I can be getting gassed and still think of trivial things like the bed I was laying on. I was just happy that this wasn’t a death sentence.
Then I began to smell it. The disgusting odor that smelled like it was dead bodies and garbage. Maybe that’s what it was. I chuckled at my last thought, and began to black out. I stopped fighting this kind of thing a long time ago. It was going to get to me eventually, so there was no point in trying to go against something I literally couldn’t escape. It didn’t hurt me either; it was like a nice little nap. Then I felt the gas kick in and my head fell on the bed with a light ‘thud’.
*** *** ***
Now I’m in that room again. The walls are white now and there’s no window. I still don’t like this room and I don’t think I ever will. The lights are too bright in here also. I feel like I can’t even look at a wall without being blinded. The window is gone and I hate that the most. Now I feel trapped like a fish in a bowl. I hated this stupid jacket I had to wear in here. No one else had to where so why did I have to? I couldn’t move my front legs at all.
At least I got some company whenever I was in here. Well I had people in my cell before, but those were usually just beatings and such. I forgot what they called her but she was here to “cure” me. I didn’t think I needed to be cured. Whenever I heard someone talk about how I should be cured I got mad. How do you cure something when it doesn’t have a problem? It’s a good thing I was good at holding my anger in and not directing at anypony. It had the some consequences like getting mad easier, but if I was good then I might leave this place faster.
Then I looked at my company. She was probably the only pony that could make me smile nowadays. I could get beaten by the guards, talked about being cured, or even get experimented on. As long as I got to see her then I was okay. She had light blue coat that looked like her beautiful eyes. Her mane was a gorgeous shade of red that complimented her coat amazingly. The only downside about her being here is that I would be questioned relentlessly. I guess a psychiatrist was supposed to do that, though. Almost instinctively I put on my brightest smile and waited for her questions.
She smiled back charmingly. “How are you doing today, Clive?”
My heart seemed to skip a beat at her voice. I couldn’t grow tired of hearing the voice that could make the wildest of people calm down. I snapped back to reality quickly, “I-I’m fine Doctor. I think I’m ready to be free now!” I wished I could remember her name. I didn’t see her very often and it seemed like no matter how much I tried to remember it, I couldn’t. I put on my hopeful face for the question I knew the answer to.
“You know I can’t do something like that. I’m sure if you try you can leave earlier than you are supposed to.” She gave me a reassuring smile, and I smiled back. I knew it wasn’t up to her if I got out of here, but she could put in a good word. “Please call me: Golden Ring. It’s kind of my name, you know.” Am small laugh came out of her throat, and I was grateful that I didn’t have to ask her what it was. “Well now we have to go through the standard procedure.”
“Ugh, again? Can’t we just skip it this time?” I hated having to go through this over and over again. I would rather jump out of the window in my room.
“Oh, it isn’t that bad. First question, where are you right now?”
I braced myself for the onslaught of easy questions. “I’m in the Ponyville insane asylum.” She gave me a dirty look, and I sighed and corrected myself. “I’m in the Ponyville ‘Correctional Facility’. Can’t we just call it what it is?”
“That isn’t what it is, though, so shut up and answer my questions.” I raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of character. She giggled and I knew she was joking. “Okay, next question, when will you be released?”
“I will be released on Hearts and Hooves Day this year if I have good behavior. If not, I will be released next year on Winter Wrap-up, allegedly, I could be here longer if I am not deemed ‘cured’.” I don’t know if I expressed how much I hated this memory test to anypony, but I should have.
“Correct. Final question, why are you in here?” This was the question that hadn’t answered. I was afraid to admit what I had done to be in here. Part of the reason was because I didn’t want the light blue pony in front of me to know how much of a monster I was. She might have already seen the records of what I did but I wouldn’t chance it.
“I-I-I…” I tried to look like I was searching for the answer in my brain, and part of me was. I knew there was one thing that I couldn’t remember. What was it? I put on a look of defeat and replied, “I don’t know.” I looked down, ashamed. I had gotten used to this routine and I would have to keep it up if I wanted to continue seeing the good doctor.
“Hey, it’s okay. I know you will remember sooner or later.” She sounded comforting. She even reached a hoof across the small table separating us, and put it on my shoulder. I looked up and gave her a smile. She took her hoof away and started another conversation. “So how have you been doing lately?”
I was glad we got the stupid opening procedure done with, and we could talk for a moment. “Honest answer? Bored. Everything is just so lame in here. Especially my room! Why can’t I have some paint to draw something?”
“Well, I suppose you could. Someone would have to get it for you though. Do you know if anyone can buy it for you?” I nodded and stared at her. She was the only pony I knew that was actually nice to me. This light blue pony was the only one that might be nice enough to get me something. I continued to stare at her as if I was responding. She took the hint.
“You have been good lately…you have been on good behavior lately…” She looked like she pondered the spot some more. “Oh what the hell, I can have it in your room by tomorrow.”
I smiled and almost squeed like a little schoolcolt, but I subdued myself. “Thank you so much! Now it won’t be so boring in my room.” I didn’t want to appear as rude so I kept the conversation going again. “How have you been doing doctor?”
“I have been doing…okay. Thanks for asking.”
I sensed something was wrong because of the way she paused. “Has something been bothering you?”
“Well, there’s this stallion that I like.”
My heart dropped slightly but I didn’t show it on my face. Even if she did like someone else I was still going to be there for her. That was the mature thing to do and I could do that for her. “Well what’s wrong with that?”
“If we were together then people would look down upon me. And maybe even him. I guess I just need more time to think about it.”
“If you ever need someone-“ I rudely interrupted mid-sentence by a guard.
“Alright, times up.” I felt a sharp pain in my neck. The dark void my eye lids created enveloped me and I was out like a light.
*** *** ***
I awoke back in the all too familiar imprisonment that I called home. The bed still had its “nice” spring in the back feeling. It was night time outside and the room had settled into a deep darkness. It didn’t take away from its boring normal shade any, though. I felt slightly bad for lying earlier. I sighed and thought about my choices and why I was here.
I don’t want to come to grips with what I did. I feel like if I face it, then I find myself as a monster and then I will never leave. What happens with Golden Ring if I leave? Do I ever get to see her again? The longer I stay here the longer I get to be with her. And if I have suffer this boring life in here to see her for only the shortest of moments then that was fine. Now I think I needed to sleep. Hopefully my dreams can help me in my dilemma.
I got into a comfortable position, or at least as comfortable as I could get. I let my head go limp on the pillow and soon enough I was gone. At least this time it was by my own accord.
I wake up with a jolt. I look around expecting my blank grey cell, but I’m somewhere different. This place seems so familiar. The answer to where I am is nagging at the back of my skull, but I just don’t know. The room is so colorful. All the walls are streaked with different vibrant colors on each side. I don’t just see grey! I see red and blue and even green! My bed is different too. The mattress is soft as feathers and the sheets are nice and thick. I’m so happy.
Then I see what makes me almost cry tears of happiness: a door. Not just any door, though! It isn’t made of metal, and it doesn’t have that shiny look to it either. But what makes it so special is that it’s open. I can walk out of this room freely. So I do just that. I jump of the mattress and approach the door cautiously, like it would slam shut if it knew I was there. I put a hoof out as if to test the waters, and luckily nothing happened. I took a deep breath and put my whole body out of the door. I didn’t get beaten by a guard!
When I was doing my small celebratory dance I heard something. It was…a voice? Yeah, and it sounded nice. I think it was a mare, and she’s singing. It sounded beautiful. The singing was flowing through the house and making everything peaceful. I had to find the source of this!
I quickly galloped down the stairs towards the living room. When I walked in my jaw dropped slightly. The room looked amazing! There was a sofa and a recliner right beside a table. The walls were covered with paintings, and all of them looked incredible. When I was gawking at the paintings I hadn’t noticed a mare in the middle painting something. The singing was coming from her, and her strokes on the canvas were wild and different each time. I wish I could figure out what place this was. Still I pushed forward, so to speak, and spoke up.
“Um, hello?” Why did her voice sound so familiar?
She didn’t look at me when she talked. “Oh? You finally came downstairs did you?”
How did she know I was up there in the first place? I just went along with it. “Yeah, who are you exactly?” my heart started to beat a lot faster for some reason. I felt like it was about to punch through my chest, but I kept calm on the outside.
She still painted on her canvas and didn’t give me so much as a glance. I pretended not to get annoyed by that. “Hmph, how fitting that you can’t remember me.”
“What do you mean?” I was starting to get annoyed with this mare.
“Well it’s just funny how you need to remember me to leave the ‘correctional facility’, but you can’t even do it when I’m standing in front of you.” She started humming happily and continued with her painting. For some reason it was making me madder and madder by the second. What was she going on about anyway? I had to remember her. Why would she make the difference?
“Look at me already!” I was raising my voice at her now.
She sighed and replied, “This is so like you. Oh well I guess that’s how you were raised.” She turned around slowly. As soon as I saw her face I wished I hadn’t said a thing. Her eyes, oh Celestia her eyes, they were carved out of her skull. Dried blood was on her face and it made her look like she was crying. Her throat had a deep gash on it and more dried blood caked her mane. She put on a crooked smile and said, “What’s the matter? Did you really not want to face me ever? You knew I would come back eventually.”
Then the gears started turning in my head. I remembered where I was! This was my house when I was a colt. I remembered all the wonderful memories I had here. All the great times I had running down the stairs and into the kitchen. I would see my dad and my mom making dinner. Or I would go outside and play with my friends. Tears were appearing in the corners of my eyes. I couldn’t take this! Then I felt a piercing pain in my skull.
Oh Celestia no…
I remembered who she was. I could remember all the times I had seen her. Tears were streaming down my face now. She was so beautiful before. What had I done? How could I have done this to one of the only ponies I loved? No, I refused to believe it. I-I just had to suppress this again! Yeah that worked last time. “This never happened,” I told myself aloud. “I didn’t do this.” The tears didn’t stop. “I-I never did any of this. You died of old age mom…yeah old age is good.” I closed my eyes and put my hooves over my head as if that would protect me.
“You little shit! Don’t you dare do this again.” She moved towards me she put her hooves on my throat, trying to choke me. My eyes were forced open and I had to look at her. I didn’t want to face it! The metallic smell of blood was overwhelming and her breathe smelled of it too. “Look what you did to me! I could’ve been there for you. Instead you do,” she motioned to her face, “this!”
I thought the memories were done with, but no. They came back once again full force. “No,” I continued weeping. “No!” flashes of images, almost like a slide show, appeared in my head. I killed my own mother. Why had I done that?! I needed to think about all of this. I needed to get out of this dream. I looked around for an exit of some sort but to no avail. I had to wait this one out and hopefully it wouldn’t be much longer.
My ‘mother’ was putting more pressure on my throat, and now I couldn’t breathe at all. The air seemed to be getting sucked out of my body. “Tsk tsk tsk, you aren’t going anywhere just yet,” she purred. “Baby, you have to know you’re doing this to yourself. You needed to come to grips with what you did.” I was starting to get sickened of the stench of blood in the air.
“Please don’t be mad at me mom. I-I didn’t know any better,” I choked out. All of my breath was gone now and I could see the blackness enveloping around my eyes. And I let it do just that. I had to wake up no matter what.
“I still love you,” my ‘mother’ said.
“I love you too…”
I jolted upright in my bed. I had never been so happy to see the boring grey walls in all my life. I sucked in a breath of air, just now realizing I had been holding it. That was much better. I fell back onto my pillow and just laid there. I continued to breathe and think about my dream. Now seemed as good a time as any to recall what happened. I closed my eyes tightly and tried to remember. I needed to accept what I did and move on from this. I took another deep breath.
My mother was tied down to a table. She couldn’t move, I made sure of that. She kept trying to scream for help, but to no avail, for I had stuffed her mouth with a towel. She squirmed around in her bindings. Her pony instinct was to get out but right now that wouldn’t help her. Then she sees me next to her. She tries to scream again and then she starts crying. No one wants to see that their own offspring is going to kill them.
For a second I hesitate with what I am about to do. I was the very thing I hated. I was going to be a full-fledged murderer. Before I could justify what I had been doing. Before I had only killed bad ponies, the murderers, the rapists, and the list goes on, but now I was killing her. I just had this urge though... and it didn’t go away. I hadn’t had a kill for months and by now it had become routine to do that sort of thing. And I hated to break routine.
Quickly, before any more thoughts of doubt washed over me, I levitated a knife into the air. I lightly put my knife on her throat. She began to squirm to try and get away. It was only pony instinct to try and get away, but it was to no avail. I put force on the blade and dragged it across her neck. For a second I almost feel bad, because of her suffering, but I quickly dismiss it. She would bleed out fairly quickly so there would be little suffering. Then I did what I would call my signature, I
carved out both of her eyes. I feel at peace now. The need to kill is gone.
Then it hits me like a train. I just killed my own mother! “No! No no no!” I start to panic and look around. The blood is running off of the table and making a puddle. The metallic aroma is impossible to escape now. Then all I remember is being here. I told myself that my mom had moved away and she would be back soon. I guess the trauma was too much for even me. The guards would laugh at the crazy talk sometimes.
I didn’t just immediately accept that, though. Before I had lied to myself I screamed and yelled at nothing. I pounded on the walls day and night to try and escape, but nothing happened. Eventually I was broken and created a different story. I felt at peace with all of this. I wasn’t trying to make up another excuse. I was…progressing.
Then I noticed a glorious sight upon the ground. I had almost forgotten all about it, I scolded myself for that. It was the paint I had asked for! I could change this stupid grey into something colorful! I quickly galloped to the tin cans in the middle of the room. I practically hugged them before opening it. I inhaled the scent. Ack, it was terrible! How could anyone like the smell of paint? Geez. Well I better get started on this room.
~1 WEEK LATER~
I slowly backed up from the wall, admiring my painting. I had finally become satisfied with it and let a sigh of relief. It had taken me a week to finish my master piece. The room was now riddled with pictures all of the (used to be) grey walls. I had something to call mine, and it felt good. All of this was mine and it wasn’t a murder of a bad pony, it was a mess of elegant paintings. It was a shame I could reach the ceiling, but if I could I would have done it. The five tins of paint were in a pile in the corner of the room. Thankfully there was a window for the fumes to escape out of. I didn’t want to admire the final piece just yet, so I went and recalled the others.
One wall was a picture of my mother. She didn’t have her eyes gouged out of her skull, or a throat that created a river of blood. She had glorious blue eyes that seemed to follow wherever you were in the room. It didn’t look creepy though, it was as if she was watching over me. She was protecting me from harm even in her death and I could only be grateful. I look at the painting one last time and turned away.
The other side with the window was much different. It wasn’t of a pony in specific, but a bunch of ponies together. I had drawn a rainbow, without all of the right colors, and a sun over all of the happy ponies. The clouds made the perfect shade for all of the elders who were getting tired. All of the fillies were dancing and playing in the park. Their parents were watching over them and having a nice chat with each other. I hoped the outside was as nice as this. Today was Hearts and Hooves day and I was determined to spend it happily. Today was going to be a good day, I just knew it.
I left one wall blank. Not because I didn’t have ideas for it, but because it kept me grounded. What better wall to leave blank than the one I slept next to, right? The wall showed where I still was, that I wasn’t anywhere happy. The boring grey wall made sure that I didn’t make up another story for my mother’s “absence.”
Then I turned to finally admire the final painting. I had spent at least three days working on this one painting almost nonstop. And of course it was the one that looked the best. It was a painting of Golden Ring. I had to water down the dark blue I had to make it a lighter one, but in the end I think it turned out perfect. Her red locks in that gorgeous mane were fantastic, and I don’t think I would ever get bored just looking at it.
As I was falling in love with those amber eyes there was creaking noise. I hadn’t ever heard the swaying of my door except for once, but I would never forget it. The only time I heard it open though was the first time I got here. Why was it being opened now?
“Get up and don’t try anything funny,” a brutish voice said. I turned around slowly and sure enough it was a guard. “Alright, we are giving you the privilege of walking to your psychiatric room.” He looked around the room, bewildered, but kept a hard look somehow. “What is up with the paintings? Never mind, I don’t want to hear all that freaky shit. Come on.” He turned around and walked out, trusting I would follow, of course I did.
When I got out of my cell and looked around I realized how much I liked my new room. This place was so terrible and almost frightful. Grey cement seemed to be what the entire place was made of entirely, I wouldn’t be surprised if they slipped it into our food. I peeked into a room and I wished I hadn’t. It wasn’t a scary sight, but a sad one.
A pony in a strait jacket was sitting in the middle of the room. The room wasn’t grey cement though. It was all white and looked to be padded on all of the surfaces. The poor mare in the middle looked so helpless. She was a grey pegasus with a blonde mane. Both of her eyes darted in different directions. She wore a wide smile across her face and kept talking about, “delicious purple muffins.” I wanted to go and talk to her but I knew I couldn’t, so I kept going forward. I had to act my best. Today would be my release if I played my cards right. Surprisingly the room was closer than I thought. The brute opened a door and motioned for me to go inside, probably saying something with curse words in it, and I did as I was told.
I quickly trotted inside and was greeted by a smile that could cure anypony’s problems. She looked even prettier today, like she was wearing makeup or something. I didn’t pay attention to it and spoke to her, “Hello! How are you?”
Somehow she put on an even happier look and replied, “I’m doing wonderful today. And yourself?”
“I’m doing great now. So let’s get this beginning over with.”
“Alrighty then,” she chimed. I answered all of her questions like I normally do. Sometimes I added something and we went off track with the questions. We had great conversation today and I loved it. Her talking could have won first place in talent show. I was having a great time and so was she, until we reached the final question. “Why are you here?”
At first I resisted to tell her. I didn’t want her to leave me. Does she already know? I don’t know but now was the time to figure out. I took a deep breath and then let it out. I took another deep breath, I was shaking now, and I gathered the right words. “I, um, I killed my mother... and other ponies.” I didn’t look away from her at all. I figured I needed to face my fears head on and not look away. My mother had taught me that.
She didn’t look upset at all; in fact she looked like she was proud. She drew a shaky breath and spoke again, “Why?” This was a question I wasn’t expecting. I wonder why she had to know.
I wasn’t about to stop the honesty thing now. “I killed them because I thought by killing the bad ponies, somehow, it was helping others.” I knew that I was wrong now, but I don’t know if I was able to let my beliefs go. “I-I killed my mother because…” I felt a tear go down my face. “I couldn’t help myself. I felt like I just needed to kill someone. I-I just…” I closed my eyes and started crying harder. I wish I could feel something right now other than sadness. I felt the warm breast of pony on my head. I heard soothing words telling me it was okay and that I wasn’t bad.
After about five minutes of crying I looked up. Like I said, that smile could cure anypony’s problems. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for anything. I will always care for you. You just made some mistakes,” she cooed. “I’m going to go talk to the warden, you’re getting released today.” She smiled and head for the door. I had something else to say though.
“Wait, I was wondering…” Damn it! Why couldn’t I find the words? “Well, if you wanted to, maybe, I don’t know…” I needed to spit it out already!
“Yes?” She replied curiously.
I took a shaky breath. “Would be my, er, companion for Hearts and Hooves day?” So glad I finally got that out. Now was the worst part of it all, the wait. The milliseconds passed by like hours before she replied, immediately in reality.
“Of course!” She looked ecstatic and I was so happy to have made her this way. “I, mean um, that would be lovely. Thank you. After I talk to the warden I will be right back.” She practically galloped away.
I had finally done it. I had overcome why I was in here and my small fear of her saying no. I leaned back in a chair and thought for a second. I was wrong about everpony here, well almost everypony here, they weren’t the ones crazy.
I was.