The psychiatric ward was quiet. Eerily quiet. A few hyperactive foals raced around the waiting room as their parents read the newspaper. Other ponies chattered about nothing in particular. Many others sat in silence. That was it. The nervous nature of the room hung in the air and infected all the ponies inside it.

In a tank swam a few dozen brightly coloured angelfish. Melody Heart was sitting in one of the rickety office chairs, counting the fish. Her chair was hard and grey. Whilst it certainly wasn't the most uncomfortable chair that she had sat in, it definitely wasn't too far up the list.

Melody Heart was a tan unicorn with a wavy, caramel mane. Her cutie mark was a stylised half quaver enclosed in a heart. The aforementioned heart was the same shade as her soft pink eyes. As one would expect, her talent was singing. She was a beautiful singer and had an amazing voice. She had a real talent. It really was a shame given her circumstance. She definitely wouldn't be performing any time soon.

Just as Melody found herself partially entranced with the fishes' simple yet calculated movements, she felt the weight of a hoof on her shoulder.

Her breathing quickened. Her eyes widened with fear. She spun around and... and...and...

... saw a kindly earth pony mare. False alarm. Melody was ashamed of herself. The incident had put her on edge. It was starting to affect her relationships.

The mare had a thick country accent. "Dearie, ah think the receptionist jus' called ya. You're Melody Heart right?"

"Yes, but how did you-" she questioned, her voice tinged with suspicion.

"Ya cutie mark hun," said the mare with a gentle smile.

"Oh yeah..." her voice trailed off. It was so obvious. She didn't need to worry. She just couldn't help it.

"Well off ya pop my dear," said the mare settling back down in her seat.

"Uh huh," nodded Melody, walking toward the first grey door on the left. Her door.

* * * * *
"Good morning. Melody Heart I assume," said a pegasus stallion, flicking his floppy medium grey mane out of his navy blue eyes. His coat was a similar shade to his eyes.

Melody nodded. It was all she could do.

"I'm Myers Briggs," he continued.

He was her therapist. Because she was nuts or something. Personally, she thought she was fine but her parents could be very pushy. They convinced her to come today. If it was up to her she would still be in bed.

Inside the room were two soft, red armchairs, one slightly older and saggier than the other. There was a wooden desk that was scattered with papers, clipboards and an array of pens. The room had a homely nature to it. Above the ornate fireplace, was an exceptionally done painting of a beautiful moonlit landscape done by a popular and famous artist.

"Do you like it?" asked Myers attempting to strike up a conversation.

"Yeah," replied Melody in a monotoned voice. Realising just how rude she must have sounded, she corrected herself. "I mean, Yes,"

"That painting is one of my favourite possessions. I won it in a poker game against the lord of Tanzonian Heights twelve years ago," he laughed nervously "I used to have quite a gambling problem," So he is an addict, or at least was. At least he is honest. Probably.

There was a long empty pause as both ponies were clearly embarrassed by the situation.

"Anyway," said Myers desperately trying to save the conversation "Shall we begin? Time's arrow neither stops nor reverses. It merely marches onward after all,"

Slightly confused, Melody nodded and sat in the newer one of the chairs as Myers sat on the other.

"You can tell me as much or as little as you want. I'm here to listen," stated Myers as if he had never said it before. Although he definitely had.

"I don't know where to start," It was the truth. Mostly.

"How about the basics?"

"Okay then," It was not too difficult of a place to start. "My name is Melody Heart and I'm seventeen years old. I live in Uppertown Canterlot with my mum and dad,"

She paused, unsure of where to go next.

"You're doing great," encouraged Myers "What's your special talent?"

"Isn't that obvious? Singing!" Melody muttered through giggles.

"Oh really. What's your favourite song?" asked Myers teasingly.

"The Angels of the West. The 1997 version, not the remake," she teased back. "That one's totally rubbish,"

"Oh really. I quite like it," For perhaps a moment Melody was convinced he was telling the truth. Then Myers burst out laughing. "Sorry I just wanted to mess with you a tad. You know I could bring a recording of it in tomorrow.

"That would be nice,"

An awkward silence settled on the two. Myers took a deep breath and Melody instantly knew what was coming next. It was usually the first thing people she knew asked. It was the first thing all her friends had asked. The first thing her parents asked.

It was the question she hated the most. It made her want to strangle the asker to death. Most of the time.

"How did you get pregnant?" inquired Myers. The question felt like a spear through the stomach. Sharp and painful. It hurt. A lot.

Myers must have seen the anger growing behind her eyes because he quickly continued "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to,"

"No," she replied sniffing back the tears. "If I don't talk about it it'll never get better,"

"That is a very good mindset to have my child," said Myers with an encouraging tone.

"You can do this," she muttered to herself, taking in a shallow breath.

"What was that?" asked Myers gently.

"Oh, nothing," It might as well have been nothing.

"So... What happened?"

"Well, it all started about a year ago at my best friend's party,"

That night was the worse one of her life.

Author's Note

This story will only have two or three chapters so don't get too excited.