Slightly out of breath I stepped out of the gym and onto the dark streets. The cool night air stung my sweaty skin, in sharp contrast to the smothering feel of the sweaty air of inside. I knew I should have brought a coat with me, but I thought I wouldn't need it. I started walking faster, I wanted to get to my apartment, dry off and warm up.
Dominic said to bring a coat, but no! 'I'm a badass,' I said. 'Coats are for sissies, like you.' I cursed my roommate, Dominic for being unable to convince me to bring a coat. I sighed, and hunched over to conserve heat. It didn't help as much as I had hoped it would. As I walked even faster, I began to shiver, until I pulled a shoulder muscle. Wow. I can't even shiver without pulling a muscle. Unbelievable. Maybe I should start going to the gym more than once a week.
As I grumbled to myself about the cold I took a right down an barely lit alley; I usually didn't like alleys, especially of the dimly lit kind, but this one was a shortcut home. I reached into the waistband of my shorts, where the little pocket for my phone was sewn. I pulled it out, and checked the time on the too bright screen. It was 11:30 p.m. If I wanted to salvage my chemistry grade I would need to ace the final. If I got home soon I could take a couple hours to study stochiometry, which I definitely needed to. Lost in thought while my eyes adjusted to the still too bright screen, I didn't notice a dark silhouette leaning against a building until I was right next to it.
Suddenly the shadow stepped out in front of me, the glint of a knife blade flashing in its hand. “I’ll be taking that phone now.” A squeaky voice boomed to me.
I can’t believe this, I thought to myself. This punk thinks he can rob me. Me! Well, what he doesn’t know is that I’m a wrestler. Well, at least, I wrestle. Well, sometimes I wrestle. Awesome, I'm gonna kick the shit out of this little punk!
“Alright, alright. No need to be hasty.” I calmly said to him as I slowly started to hand him my phone. He lowered his switchblade as he reached for his soon to be ill-gotten gains. Yes, that’s it. Drop your guard, just a little more… Now!
Quick as lightning I dashed forwards, and planted my right knee between his legs. My right arm grabbed the back of his left knee, and my left arm tried to immobilize his knifehand. I planted my head in his chest, and shoved forwards with my entire body. He fell over backwards with me on top of him, his head slamming into the pavement. With my free left hand, I started pummeling his face and neck. What an idiot, picking a fight with me of all people, I thought to myself. Wait, wasn't I doing something with my left hand?
My introspection was interrupted by the sound of my blood hitting the ground. Numbly, I rolled off of him as it seemed all my energy fled my body. My head involuntarily hit the ground. As I lay gasping tortured breathes through suddenly parched lips, I heard the punk's fleeing footsteps echoing down the alley. But that wasn't important to me. What was important was that I could see a thick layer of sticky redness beginning to coat the entirety of my chest!
“Is this… is this my blood?” I slowly asked myself. Or at least I tried to. For some reason I couldn't make a sound aside from a chocked gurgling. I blindly stuck my arm out, grasping for anything to help me up, and I felt my hand hit something metal. I weakly pulled myself closer to a grimy trashcan, but I couldn't pull myself even to a sitting position. My head exploded in agony. I must have hit it very hard when I rolled off my attempted mugger. I weakly attempted to press my hand against my throat, or what was left of it. The task was made harder by my wavering vision and light headedness. I have to stop the bleeding! I desperately shouted in my head. The panic I was feeling from my mind felt out of place against the tranquility my body was telling me to feel.
I ripped off my hat and pressed it firmly against the slash on my throat. Within seconds it had become completely soaked; it leaked blood all over my hand as if it was my hat that was bleeding, not me. Not good, not good at all. Things were starting to fade faster. No! No! I won’t go out like this! Not me! I promised them… I promised them that I would get all A’s next semester, and goddammit I keep my promises!
I was starting to feel calm, and cold, when I felt a massive spark of rage ignite inside of me. The flames of anger spread throughout my body, until I could deny it no longer. I attempted to scream in fury, but again, I could only gurgle. I tried to hit something, anything to leave some sort of mark before I bled out, but all I could do was weakly bounce my fist against the unforgiving pavement. I started chuckling, or at least I tried to. Man, this is hilarious! Me, being taken out by some punk kid. What a joke! I mean, it isn’t a very funny joke, but a joke nonetheless.
Limply, my hand dropped my blood soaked hat into the bloody grime besides me, my entire arm soon following it to the ground. My head felt even heavier, and I could no longer hold it up. I was losing energy, and I just didn’t care. My vision started to darken, and all it elicited from me was apathy. All that I had left was the pain from my head and my throat, and soon that too faded.
Everything went numb.
“Well hello there.” A smooth voice echoed throughout the inky blankness I found myself in. What happened? How did I get here? Wait, that hood! He... He cut my throat! Am I in some sort of hospital? I tried opening my eyes, but then I realized they were already open. Am I blind?
“How… how did I survive?” I croaked in a hoarse voice, before realizing that before I passed out, I had been unable to talk.
“You didn't.” The voice replied almost carelessly. “Yep, you’re dead. Now, normally I’d tell you that since you’re a good person or whatever I’ll give you another chance in another world. That's not the case here, but you died too young for you to make much of an impression either way. So, you can go to another world, however, you were almost that was a downright nasty cut on your throat, and I may be all-powerful but I am most certainly not God. So, suffice to say I will not be able to fully heal you. I know this is sudden, and I may sound insensitive, but let’s be honest here, you’re not my highest priority. So, in case I haven’t been clear, you have another shot at life, if you chose to accept it.”
How, how is this possible? I should be dead! How can he say he'll give me another chance! You know what, just go with it. I can’t even begin to grasp my own death; so I’m just gonna go along with what he/she/it is saying. I know it’s not healthy to bury your emotions; eventually the realization of my untimely death will hit me like a ton of bricks, but not now. Just not now.
“I’ll go.”
“Now, this is the part where I usually say something cool sounding, but that’s just too much effort.”
Suddenly I felt myself fading again, and the thought of yet another death terrified me. I tried desperately to cling to my fading consciousness, but I couldn't. I felt myself sinking, until I was gone.
And the presence had already moved on.
A bird chirping was the first thing I heard upon awakening, or rather, semi-awakening. How odd. I thought, normally I never hear any birds in the city. And stranger still they clearly weren't the crow and pigeons I was used to hearing. If I had to hazard a guess as to their species, I would say robins or blue jays (I’m not a bird person). You know, it’s actually pretty peaceful lying on my back with my eyes closed.
Suddenly I remembered the events that had transpired just before I “died.” My throat! My throat should be cut. As soon as that thought seized me, I realized I could feel dried blood completely coating my face and chest. Hesitantly, I twitched my hand in a failed effort to bring it up to my face. As soon as I did, I noticed what my hand was limply resting on.
Grass? But there isn't any grass near my apartment. Then how... how is my hand on it? As I pondered this revelation, I noticed my other hand was on hard dusty substance. I attempted to move my other hand, but the most I could do was raise it a few inches, then have it drop painfully onto the unforgiving ground.
Great. Just Great. Here I am, somehow partly on the grass, and I can’t even move my arms a little. But what about the rest of my body? Starting with my feet, I tried moving anything I could. I never got more of a response than the one I had from my hands, which was greatly worrying. Desperately, I again attempted to move my right hand. This one was more responsive than the other one. I slowly brought it up to my chin, and then hesitantly probed the general area of my throat.
Wha…What is this? I was stunned. If my memories hadn't failed me, there should be a gaping hole in my throat, but instead there was just a prodigious amount of dried blood! Somehow my wound must have closed over while I was unconscious. Well, maybe something is finally going my way, I thought as I dropped my hand back to the ground. Fatigue hit me like a freight train, and I realized I was too tired to keep think about my situation.
With the realization that I was no longer bleeding out, I was content to simply rest in grass. That’s right, the grass! I’d better see what I’m lying on!
I tried to open my eyes, but I simply couldn't. They were like lead weights; I knew I wouldn’t be seeing anytime soon. I started drifting in and out of consciousness. Well, this is bad. I thought. I’m helpless. What if someone with less-than-good intentions discovers me in this state? I hope no one sees me. Then again, it's a little late for hope isn't it? I guess it doesn't really matter if anyone does see me.
Eventually, I started to get thirsty. Really thirsty. Scratch that, I hope someone finds me, and soon. I don’t know how much longer I can last. The dehydration steadily grew worse. My lips were cracked; my tongue was swollen. I’d lost all sense of time; I had no idea how long it had been since I’d woken up.
Now, I’d never been religious, but this was a desperate time. I didn't pray, per se, I just started really hoping to God that someone would find me before it was too late.
It appeared my desperate hope would not be answered. I felt like I was dying, and knew that I very well might be. The pain had slowly started returning, and had reached a point as to be nearly unbelievable. Well, if this is how it’s gonna end, it’s still better than if I’d been killed by that hood. My mind started to fog up even further. Even if I’d tried, I was unable to move any of my limbs at all. Huh, I guess I couldn't keep my promise after all. I mused.
I was almost completely gone, but I was still able to hear clopping sounds approaching me. Is... is that a horse’s foot steps? Please be a person on it!
“Oh no! Just look at this poor little baby!” A feminine voice called out from the directions of the noises.
“Little baby? That thing’s almost as big as Big Mac!” A different, scratchier voice replied.
Oh thank God, I knew you were listening! I thought. With the last of my strength, I almost smiled. People. I hope they help me. I was fading quickly, and could barely make out what the first one was saying. Not that I cared; as long as someone had found me I wasn't worried.
“We’d better get him back to Ponyville so I can… OMYGOSH! Rainbow, do you see all the blood! Omygosh omygosh! Is it still breathing? Oh, poor, poor baby! Don’t worry, I’ll help you get all better.”
I don’t know why, but I felt reassured. I was confidant the voice, whomever it belonged to, would help me. And then I was gone, again.
Author's Note
Yeah, I'm back.
Darkness, smothering and heavy, was all I could feel.
I numbly attempted to take stock of my body, but found I couldn't feel anything. Am I still alive? Where am I? And why do I feel so... heavy? After several tense moments, I noticed that my skin was damp, or at least some part of it was. Why am I wet? Slowly, I reached up with my right hand and felt my face. Hesitantly, I rubbed where I could feel the wetness. What I felt stunned me, and I quickly felt all up and down my neck and face. This... This isn't blood. Did someone wash my neck?
I cracked open my eyelids. It was a big mistake. The light in wherever I was contrasted heavily with the darkness I had been in; it made my eyes burn painfully. I slammed my eyes shut, waited several seconds, then attempted to open them again. This time the light did not hurt too much, though my vision was still too blurry to accurately judge my surroundings. I attempted to sit up, but had only managed to get to my elbows when my energy abruptly ran out and I fell back onto what I noticed to be a blanket.
Now with nothing to do, I thought. OK, what do I remember? There was a punk who tried to rob me, and I... died? I did die right? I mean, I specifically remember my throat getting destroyed. But, I couldn't have really died, right? I mean, if I was dead I wouldn't be able to do this thinking, would I? But, what about that voice that talked to me? Was it real? Nah, it couldn't be real. I mean, how could I die yet still be alive? Or what if I did die, and I just imagined the voice? What if I'm bleeding out right now, but I just think I'm peacefully lying here? I shuddered; that thought greatly disturbed me.
My reverie was interrupted by a sharp sense of pain emanating from my neck. But I thought my wound had been healed and washed? How is it still hurting? I delicately held my throat, though it did nothing to limit the pain shooting through my body. As the pain blocked out all of my other thoughs, I realized it was my throat that was hurting, not my neck. Upon closer inspection, I realized I was thirsty. Extremely thirsty.
I guess whoever saved my life didn't give me any water. This is bad. If I don't get some water soon, I don't know what state I'll be in. I resolved to simply wait for my savior to bring me water. This left me more time to think, which I did not need.
Why... Why did this have to happen to me? Out of a world of six billion people, this had to happen to me. To me! I didn't deserve this! And if I did, there was plenty of people who deserve this much more than me! Why didn't this happen to Joseph?no one can pretend he wouldn't deserve this. But no! I had to be the one to get my throat cut! I started getting really worked up as I realized how blatantly unfair this whole situation was. I know it sounds like a little kid having a tantrum, but I clenched my fists and ground my teeth until I lacked the energy to do so, at which point I relaxed involuntarily.
After my little freak out, which is very hard to do when you can barely move, I realized that my exertion had only made my thirst worse. OK, first thing's first. I need to get some water, but it's not like I can get it myself. Wait, someone had to clean my wound and put me on a blanket! Maybe they're still around? With a clear goal in mind, I began to look around the room in earnest. I noticed I was on a blanket in the middle of the floor of what appeared to be a sitting room. It was fully furnished, but everything seemed muchtoo small. I tried to make sense of why this would be. Maybe the person who saved me is small? But, then how did they get me into this cottage?
Suddenly I realized what this situation was reminding me of. Wait! So am I in Snow White? Since I'm the one waking up in the cottage I guess that makes me Snow White. I wonder when my Prince Charming will show up? That thought made me happy enough to spend what little enemy I had by drawing the corners of my mouth up into a grin. Wait, since I'm waking up in the cottage, wouldn't that mean I'm about to be greeted by the 7 Dwarfs? That's... quite a step down from expecting my Prince Charming.
As I reflected upon the stature of the owner of the house and how I hoped I'd find my Prince Charming, I heard a small noise in the other room. What was that? Wait, it must be a person! At the realization that there was a person nearby, my grin ran away from my face, and I blushed madly. Oh thank god they can't read my mind! Wait, what if somehow they can! I quickly tried to blank my mind out in case they really could read my mind, when the pain in my throat returned full force.
I strengthened my resolve, and tried to call out "Water." The keyword being tried. The most I could manage was a weak grunt that I was doubtful could be heard several feet away from me, much less in a completely different room. Shocked at the poor state of my vocal cords, I tried again with slightly more force, and was rewarded with a slightly louder grunt. Oh man! What if they can't hear me? How ironic would it be if they saved me, only to let me die of dehydration! I desperately thought. Fortunately, my fears proved unfounded.
"Who's there?" A small, feminine voice weakly called out.
Excited at the prospect of finally meeting my savior, I grunted again. I was rewarded by the sound of a pair footsteps, one slightly behind the other. Yes, yes! Please come! I thought as I prepared myself to meet the one who saved me, a girl based on her voice.
Suffice to say, I was unprepared for when a small, yellow horse with a pink mane stepped into the room.
Author's Note
As always, please tell me what you think.
What... What is that? After drawing the attention of what I thought to be my host-or my prince charming-a small yellow horse walked in! I numbly stared at it, the burning in my throat forgotten. The horse seemed to have no such reservations. It walked right up to me, then slowly made eye contact. I was shocked, again, by what happened next.
"Oh, you poor, poor baby. You had a big owie on your throat, but don't worry, Doctor Fluttershy is here to make you all better." She said with a small smile (I could tell she was a she based on her voice).
Oh, hey... funny thing, I could sweat that little horse just talked to me. Wait, what? A freakin tiny horse just walked up and spoke to me! How is that even possible?! Whoa, whoa, slow down hotshot. So what if a horse talked to me? No big deal. No big deal. No big deal. I mean, I died already, or did I? Wait, no! Don't think about that again! Just think about the nice little horse in front of you that TALKED!! Wait no, it's probably just the blood loss talking. I mean, how could a horse talk to me? Don't you need a tongue to talk? Do horses even have tongues? My half manic thought process was interrupted by the horse nudging at my arm.
"Ummm... How are you feeling?" the talking horse asked as she leaned down with a concerned expression.
She wants to know how I'm feeling. How thoughtful. Well let's see, I might be hallucinating from blood loss from getting my throat slit, and I'm extremely dehydrated. So,yeah, all in all I guess I'm doing just peachy! I opened my mouth to say my sarcastic remarks, but the most I could manage was what sounded like a low growl.
My llittle vocalization made her demeanor shift instantly. "Oh no! Are you okay? Are you hungry? Or are you thirsty? Or maybe you're tired?" She began to ask me questions at a rapid fire pace, before suddenly straightening up. "I know just what you need! Wait right here!" She proclaimed before galloping off.
Slightly confused by her rapid fire questioning, I thought over my current situation. I'm helpless, and trapped in a cottage with a talking horse! Maybe I can escape? Wait, how can I outrun her? I can barely move. As I considered the best way to make my totally not cowardly exit, she came back into the room carrying a miniature platter carrying a small bowl of water and fresh several carrots.
Nervously, I tried to back up along the ground, but inexorably she drew closer. She set down the platter next to me and said, "Alright little baby! I know you're hungry, so Doctor Fluttershy brought you food." She then leaned her head down onto the platter and grabbed a small paring knife in her mouth. As she raised her head I saw the glint of the steel and remembered the last time I had seen someone carrying a knife. Suddenly I was back in that dark alley where that hood killed me. What's she doing?
"No!" I attempted to say as my terror grew, but as usual all that came out was a weak moan.
"Oh dear, you must be really hungry!" My self appointed doctor said after she finished cutting up the carrot. She somehow picked up little pieces of my meal with her hoof and held them in front of my face. "Here comes the choo-choo. You better open wide for it."
I can't believe this! She thinks she's going to feed me! If someone's gonna feeds me, it'll be my special someone! I'll just wait until I'm strong enough to do it myself! I would literally rather starve. Confident in my decision, I clamped my mouth shut and turned my head to the side defiantly.
The self-titled "Doctor Fluttershy" was not pleased at all with my choice to ignore her offering of food. "Oh please! Just one bite? Please just try one teensy little bite. It'll make you feel better."
Ha! I said I wouldn't eat any and I won't! Well, I didn't say it out loud, but same difference. I turned my head a little more, so I was could only see her out of the corner of my eye, and even then just barely.
"Please? Just a little bite? Oh, why won't you? Is it something I did?" At this, she began to sniffle slightly, as if she genuinely believed it was her fault that I wasn't eating.
I turned my head slightly again, so I could comfortably look at her without straining my eyes. I saw her shoulders start to slump, and her lower lip start to quiver. I saw the beginnings of tears form in the corners of her eyes, and I saw her reassuring smile run away from her face. The corners of my mouth pulled themselves up in a small smile, and I attempted to chuckle. Wow, she really thinks I'm stupid enough to fall for that? Yeah, butter luck next time, honey. However, after seeing that her demeanor was actually getting steadily more pitiable, I realized my error. Oh no! Please don't cry! I'm sorry! Here, I'll eat the carrots! Just, please don't cry! Of course, when I tried to convey that sentiment to her it came out as a gurgle. Sighing, I fully turned to her and opened my mouth.
She instantly brightened, and her reassuring smile returned as if she had never been the one to require reassurance. She began to feed me small bites of carrot, which I ate quickly to get the experience over as soon as possible.
"Oh thank you! See, don't you feel better with a little food in you?" Doctor Fluttershy asked after feeding me two carrots. "Here, have some water." At that, she poured some water into my mouth. I greedily drank it, even though it made my throat ache worse for as long as the liquid was in contact with it.
"Alright, now that that is out of the way, what are you little guy?" She asked while looking me over, from my too-long toenails to my matted hair spilling over my face.
