//-------------------------------------------------------// Miss Cheerilee's Day -by Breizh- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Miss Cheerilee's Day //-------------------------------------------------------// Miss Cheerilee's Day An omen of greatest fortune of greetings for a wednesday the 14th of July. That was how Cheerilee's day, even at its dawn, struck as being destined to be, as if it had been a day her whole life had amounted to. She did not remember having dreamt about anything, but if she had, it was certain whatever she was musing about was a premonitory sign of this fateful day's events, bewailing this most determinant of journeys she would experience. Cheerilee's morning cure was of such insignificance compared to that which was to come that, was she bound to chronicle her day in greatest detail, she would inevitably lack the aptness to mark such minor aspects of it as matutinal hygiene. Happenings worth accounting did not occur until school's time had come. Walking upright, one hoof on the other's heels, she gained her classroom's entrance. There, something indecipherable occured, like a ceasura between the logical reality of matters and What things were like. Miss Cheerilee looked as clean as she always did, much to her students' amazement. They thought they could never reach that level of cleanness. But something was off today. Miss Cheerilee wasn't any different, no, her pupils were. It was like they subconsciously realised there always had been something weird about the teacher. She looked as happy and clumsy - almost careless - as she always did, though, so they decided there was nothing to worry about. She took a chalk and brought it up to the blackboard and wrote something and put the chalk down. It looked very strange, like thin, slanted letters, they repeated themselves in that they were similar, geometrically speaking. Miss Cheerilee then stared at the students and they didn't know what to do so they either stared back or looked away. They were wondering when class was going to start and when they were going to learn more advanced mathematics, like multiplications, some of it was called. Miss Cheerilee's gaze was no leer nor accusation. It was, in fact, that which it had always been deep Inside her heart. As she spoke, her words sounded as though they were uttered of their own accord. With phrases from an other world did she draw all that was required to hold the floor. No counterattack came from the crowd, her craft crawling freely from her mouth. Slack-jawed and dumbstruck was the audience. Bravos and praises yet unheard of, congratulating truest honesty and steadfast loyalty to her most inner and gagged of personnalities would most certainly ensue, thus Cheerilee spoke no more. Those who had just lapped up the oral panacea that was so generously delivered to them, her almost all subjects, her disciples, were Scared of Miss Cheerilee. Now her eyes were scary and she just said things that sounded like the witch's curses from that one book. The only thing that stopped the students from running away was how happy the teacher looked despite her shrunken pupils and the fact that she was foaming a bit at the mouth. One student asked if she could repeat because he didn't get the last part of what she said ( actually he didn't get anything ), and she gladly did, as incomprehensible as the first time, even though Apple Bloom felt like she could relate to some of the stuff she was saying, or at least could have related at some point of her life. So everypony started writing what they thought they heard from Miss Cheerilee and she asked if they were ready to get the rest of the lesson and they nodded and she talked some more weird things. And when she was done she talked some more, until one foal actually began One member of the public in particular was manifesting his infatuation for the impartially narrated history of scribes and conquerors more tangibly. Obviously there was no reason to linger on obsolete unlimbering, thus Cheerilee reduplicated her account of all that which had heaped up within her, a fulgurous spectacle of anecdotes and theses all more harrowing than the one preceding. Not a saying could initiate the euphoria of a lifetime possessing the well-advised teacher as not an objection was raised. Brusquely, this bliss morphed into doubt. Was there not a mind sufficiently acute to defy her ? Surely there were gray areas, surely her modest cognizance did not suffice, surely it was unilateral to, at the very least, some extend. Cheerilee Was right in front of Diamond Tiara, who was on the brink of tears like the foal next to her but was way too well educated to show that she was afraid of Miss Cheerilee. So she said that she agreed with the teacher, and when the teacher asked : "Everything ?" ominously, she even said told the teacher yes, like that, no more fear ( at least that's what she wants us to think ). At first Miss Cheerilee didn't look convinced but then she really really didn't look convinced when she read Diamond Tiara's paper. Then she looked completely crazy but when Diamond Tiara cried she was satisfied again and looked at somepony else. Then everypony started crying because they were so scared and Miss Cheerilee, she looked like she liked it. It was really One palatial way to conclude an educational lecture : the very soul of a whole audience responding most appropriately to the appeal of History. Cheerilee's boldness of decision to choose this day's subject had done her a world of good. Then Apple Bloom went over to her and asked her if she was okay because after she looked happy from being very scary she looked very scared and sad and sorry in a corner of the room. What hydden wight had she unleashed, even for a twelfth of the smaller arm's race at best ? Her most beloved disciples, coming up against what was truest in her ! Admittedly, the submonarch queen of friendship herself's roster of seen and yet to be discovered work paled in comparison to hers. Admittedly, she had often hankered after such a course of action. But there was no excuse for that which had just happened. Sleep would leave her for a while, for she would be afraid of becoming that fateful day's beast once more. But she would be strong, and no more would she allow her deepest, darkest self to expose all of that which she wished all had the time to learn and analyse. Now was the end of an era. Miss Cheerilee then did some maths with us and the day was great after that. Miss Cheerilee shouldn't do bad pranks like that. No, she should not."