Dead on Arrival

I was walking through the Edmonton Clinic Health Academy on my way to the bus stop. I was glad for the shelter the school gave me from the torrential rain pouring down like a hail of marbles outside. While I was passing through the halls, I can't help but think about the awful events of the day. On top of tripping and falling flat on my face in front of everyone just as I was entering the classroom, causing an eruption of laughter; and the shame of getting my test scores back, it was raining, and I didn't even have my backpack today to shield my books. I slept in and -- in a mad panic -- rushed out, forgetting it like the idiot I am.

As I was speed-walking through the hall I noticed some posters adorning the walls.

"Come to the My Little Pony marathon on April 2nd at 6 to 10pm in room 2-100! Everyone welcome! Snacks provided!"

I was surprised to find such banners of such social faux pas to be allowed to freely hang in these sacred halls, but it didn't really matter; it hardly affected anyone but the people interested.

The double glass doors to the outside were dead ahead, speckled with drops of rain forming small rivers as they dripped down, absorbing stagnant drops within themselves as they trickled. I wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion: hoodie, jeans, and runners. It was not a good day to be absorbent.

I was reluctantly just about at the door. I held my books in one hand and used the free one to flip up my hood. This wardrobe catastrophe was my fault. I saw the forecast, but since my weather app was often wrong and Edmonton especially is in a massive dry season, so I thought nothing of it, but just in case I took the bus this time. I couldn't risk my bike rusting on me.

I swung open the doors, only to be greeted by a blast of fat rain droplets to my face that forced me to shut my eyes in defence. The morbidly obese spheres of aqua made the ground jump and splash as they hit, spreading its plague of water a few inches in the air like spores. The hurricane wind threatened to blow my hood off, so I took my available hand to keep it held firm onto my scalp. I scanned the area for the fastest route to the bus stop, standing in the rain to plot the best one.

Eventually I decided to cut down the concrete ramps leading to the LRT station and across the crosswalk. Under the flashing lights of the pedestrian crossing sign I saw my fellow unlucky souls. Most were wearing rain jackets, but some, like myself, were wearing hoodies. Everyone was hastily speed-walking across the busy street to the hospital to get some cover. The lobby of the U of A hospital was packed with refugees, staring out into the street with blank stares of mild empathy.

I looked down the street, the blue and silver bus was just coming around to the stop. I finished crossing the road and started a run to the bus stop just as it was screeching to a stop. That turned out to be a bad move. I took a bad step as I was sprinting down the sidewalk and slipped, sending me into a tailspin towards the brick sidewalk. I held my books close to my chest to break the fall, it sort of worked. My face still slammed into the bricks and the textbooks pressed into my chest, squeezing the moist air in my lungs out. I was totally soaking wet now, but at least my feet didn't get hurt, right?

A few among the crowd asked if I was okay. My chest felt like I collapsed a lung, but I really was okay. I got back on my feet, told the people who stopped to help me that I was fine and I continued speed walking to the bus. Through all my hardships I finally boarded it.

"You took quite a tumble there, you okay?" The bus driver asked with a pang of worry. A few on the bus were giggling and staring, making me feel a little embarrassed.

"Uh, yeah. I'm fine thanks," I answered mutely. I handed the woman the bus fare and made my way down the bus, trying to find a place to sit. I found a cozy spot next to the window close by, so I took it, hearing and feeling an uncomfortable squishing sensation caused by my drenched attire as I sat down and stared out the window into the city. The bus was heated well, it took some of the chill off.

Finally, something nice for a change. I assessed the damage to my books and found them to be utterly soaked. They did break my fall, kind of, but at what cost? I squeezed my text book to get some of the water pressed out before the ink starts to run, but the water I managed to get out was tinted a mild shade of ink black and pooled itself nicely on the ground next to my soaked runners. I sighed to myself in disappointment and frustration.

Oh well, I can at least play a little Angry Birds on the wait to my stop. I reached in my pocket to find my sopping wet iPhone resting neatly on my thigh. I pulled it out and clicked it on, hoping that it could even turn on. Luckily enough it did.

"April fools day. Fitting," I muttered to myself as I took note of the date. I swiped the screen to dismiss the lock screen and got a notification.

"10% battery remaining," it read. I pressed the 'Low Power Mode' button under it and clicked the off button, sliding the aluminum paperweight back into my pocket. Not knowing what to do to pass the time, I stared out the window into the rainy day. Thinking about my books and grades spurred me to reflect on my university career.

I worked hard to get in, real hard. I earned my place in that school, I studied like crazy in all my subjects, but I loved biology the most. More specifically, I loved the dissections. Nothing beats a hands on inspection of the gift of life. It was just so fascinating seeing firsthand how the incredible enigma of life functions; it's what made me want to become a surgeon. To read about and look at pictures of the body and anatomy In textbooks is way different than spelunking right in a new cadaver.

When I was in high school I knew in my heart I wanted to become some kind of physician. It wasn't until I dissected a pig when I realized that my destiny was surgery. I'd like to be doing the serious stuff, like threading pacemakers and clipping aneurysms. I have no doubt I could do it, and do it well. I just don't know if I can pass the course.

       Don't get me wrong, I love the course, but I've burned out a lot of my studious nature just trying to get in. It's like ever since I was accepted I was swamped with so much homework and studying that I just kind of spaced out. I couldn't keep up and instead of going for help I just buckled. It seems like my will to study just kind of flickered out. I'm still passing, but barely. That's all I'm looking for nowadays. My grandma always wanted me to do my best in school, or at least she used to.

...

Enough with the seriousness. It's Friday! That's something to smile about! And I know a certain group of polychromatic horses waiting for me at home. It's pony night! The one night of the week when I forget about my studies even more to worship our lord and saviour Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship twice as much as I do normally via unhealthy binge-watching! And with the start of season 6, pony night extends to Saturday morning, too!

I was looking forward to a specific pony, one that has made great strides in character development, even though it really doesn't really seem that way sometimes. Even though she's the most static of the group in terms of character, Fluttershy was always my favourite. She's just so adorable. It's like her cowardly cuteness almost makes up for the inherent static nature of a character named 'Fluttershy'. But there's something more to it than just pure cuteness.

I sometimes get a strange feeling when I see her in the show; little things often trigger it. Like when she flies just inches off the ground or fan-art of her doing pretty much anything. There was one scene from the episode "Putting Your Hoof Down" right at the beginning when she's feeding the animals that really triggers it. Right after she pours the food into a big heap and all the animals doggy-pile around it, there's this one scene before the mouse snatches the box of food away from her hoof when she does a strange jittery motion while smiling at the horde of woodland creatures gorging themselves on food pellets. It's only for a split second and probably only an animation error, but it was still there nonetheless.

This emotion wasn't a sexual kind of feeling, but sort of an aching, like, in my heart or chest. It's an interesting yet distinct combination that can only be accurately described as frustration mixed with cuteness, but even that doesn't describe it well. A sort of ... wanting? It's an extremely strange feeling, one I often try to push down and suppress, but I always find myself exploding with it when I compulsively look at pictures and artwork of her lying on a bed, asking for "Tummy rubs?".

The sudden stopping of the bus came as a surprise, jolting me out of my trance-like state of thought. I glanced out the window. Still raining. I flipped my hood up again, grabbed what's left of my books, and made my way out the bus. I stepped down the stairs and hopped out through the doors, instantly snapping back into reality. I remembered just how bad the torrential downpour was. The tiny liquid daggers assaulted my pain receptors once more, so I sprinted again. I crossed another set of LRT tracks, slipping a few times, but still managed to keep my balance. I had to be careful as I sprinted down the cracked and uneven sidewalk, who's seen more than it's share of harsh weather in its 60 or so years of existence. I kept my head down and turned into the walkway that led up to my house. I bounded up the concrete steps and through the screen and wooden doors. I took off my soaking wet runners on the welcome mat, setting them off to the side to dry, and walked into my room. I put my sopping wet books on my desk, grabbed a towel from the laundry room, and made my way to the bathroom for a long relaxing hot shower. It's Friday after all.

After I finished my shower and dried myself off, I put on my pyjamas and began to engage in the sacred rituals. I walked to my room, crawled under the bed covers, turned on the television, and watched my favourite episodes of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic in a relaxed state of euphoria one usually attains after a 'hard' day at school when you don't realize just how tired your legs are until you get into bed. Bathing in the moment, knowing that this peace cannot last forever made me cherish it even more. I re-watched countless episodes, 'Dragonshy' and 'Hurricane Fluttershy' were my favourites. They always sparked that curious fire in my heart. After watching what seemed like only a few more episodes and watching plenty of PMVs, MLP news, and other brony media, I started feeling my eyes drooping, and glanced at the clock.

"10:07 PM" read the alarm.

"Only 10:07?" I would've thought my body became accustomed to the all-nighters and irregular sleep schedules by now. Not studying of course, just staying up late browsing the internet.

I turned off the TV and my laptop, pulled up the covers, and let sleep wash the day away.