Behind Him

Chapters

Inner Wounds
Safety Measures
Temporary Solution
Pressure Points
Open Space
Subtle Hints
Loose Interpretations
Unfriendly Reminder

Inner Wounds

Granite Rose sighed as he looked down at the empty bottle of pills on his nightstand. It had only been a week and he had already run out of his medication. He was only supposed to take them when he needed them, which was usually once a week. Lately it had been every day.

He believed the episodes he was having would subside once he became independent. Nonetheless, the anxiety, urgency, and intensity of each schizophrenic episode had grown stronger the moment he moved out of his parents’ place, as if it were trying to fill the absence.

He glanced fixedly at his hallucination, Thorns, hoping he could make eye contact with the figure who stood behind him. Granite tried to be firm with his gaze, but the hollow stare in Thorns’ glowing eyes followed by small streams of black tears made him difficult to look at. What was worse, he looked almost identical to Granite. It was as if he had chosen to look similar to mock him, although Granite knew that wasn’t the case.

“Please,Thorns, just leave me alone! Just because I’m alone here doesn’t mean I need you keeping me company,” Granite said, a hint of sadness accompanying his voice. He knew talking to Thorns was only as good as talking to himself but if he couldn’t reason with this part of himself, then he wasn’t sure he would make it through the rest of the move.

He shook it off and begrudgingly focused on unpacking. He reasoned his mental episode was just a result of stress, something that unpacking, along with some medication, could easily fix. He moved over to his first set of boxes, starting with the bigger ones and moving onto the smaller ones. He arranged the boxes and began sorting them by what was inside, then he took everything out. He set each object aside carefully as if he were handling a foal or a small animal. He then began sorting through everything to see which room it needed to go into. Deciding to start in the living room first, he sifted through his more decorative items and began to place them.

Get in the bathroom. Lock the door. Release your pain.

Granite flattened his ears in annoyance. He couldn’t have more than five minutes alone without that demeaning voice. Thorns always wanted the same thing everyday. Granite’s blood. Though, due to being immobile, he relied on Granite to supply that blood himself. Granite wouldn’t do that, though. He had better things to do than satisfy that vampire.

Granite finished with the last of the decorations and headed for the next room. Before he left the room, he eyed the display to see how it looked from afar. It was a rather simple setting. Pictures of flowers hung on the wall along with a few shelves holding clay vases. There was room for a table, but that would have to come in later once the other rooms were decorated. Satisfied with his work, Granite moved onto the rest of his little house.

Walk to the bathroom. Lie down. Let pain seep through.

Granite was tired after a long day of unpacking, and had planned on sleeping soon after. Thorns was having none of that. This time, however, he pronounced his words as if he were speaking to a small child about to get a shot. The task would be quick if he complied. Granite was tempted to get up and complete the ritual, as long as completing it would mean he could get some rest afterwards. He stretched out of bed and sluggishly headed towards the bathroom.

It won’t be bad. It won’t be like last ti-

Granite froze, cursing himself for bringing up that time. He tried to forget it, but the memory continued to resurface...

The foal’s ears flickered rapidly. He was sure he heard somepony. He trotted around his room, trying to get closer to the sound.

“Hello? Who said that?” the foal asked.

He whipped his head around, looking at every angle of his room for the voice. It wasn’t like any voices he’d heard before. They usually sounded far away, which usually meant one of his parents was calling him. This voice was peculiar, as it sounded like it was right there in the room with him. Yet nopony was in sight.

The foal soon ignored the sound and continued his drawings. He wasn’t drawing anything in particular, just whatever came to mind. His little mind raced as he filled up the page. Many colors and shapes filled the page like an elaborate display at a gallery. The foal continued to scribble as his little world begged to come to life. Ponies were scattered here and there amongst the black-and-white cats and the shining stars. A couple of red roofed houses took up the center while tiny birds and grasshoppers filled the corners. It was a complete mishmash of things, but the foal liked it.

Suddenly, his ears started to twitch again. He heard the voice once more. He was sure it was talking to him. He looked around some more, making sure to turn around this time to see if it was outside.
He saw nothing at the window. What he saw was right inside his room.

The foal gasped. A strange pony had broken into his house! The pony was just standing there, it’s presence foreign yet...oddly familiar. He was similar in height to the foal and his black mane and grey coat were almost identical to his. The only difference was the penetrating white eyes leaking black fluids.

“Who are you?” the foal mumbled.

The stranger didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. He knew the foal knew the answer.

“Thorns?” the foal squeaked. The name just slipped out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure what made him say it. Perhaps it had to do with the stranger’s presence.

The stranger nodded. The foal was about to introduce himself, but he realized that was probably unnecessary. Curiously, he asked:

“Do you know who I am?”

Thorns nodded again. Though he didn’t utter the name, the foal knew he was thinking “Granite Rose”. Thorns had a connection to him. Granite was so fascinated he overlooked the macabre expression on the other pony’s face. He had so many things to ask him. To see how much Thorns really knew would be a thrilling experience. Granite began to say something, but he was abruptly cut off.

Find a place to hide. Get a knife. Carve out your pain.

Granite jumped. Did he hear that right? It sounded like Thorns wanted to hurt him. He trusted Thorns, though. Surely he knew what he was saying.

Granite tiptoed around the kitchen. He wasn’t sure his parents would like Thorns. He usually trusted his parents, but right now, he trusted Thorns more. He slowly reached up to the silverware drawer and grabbed a small knife that was only ever used by his parents during more formal meals. The knife in his hooves felt cold and heavy. Granite almost didn’t feel right holding it. He wasn’t sure why he was instructed to use it like this. Maybe something bad was inside of him.

He trotted out of the kitchen and into his room, slowly shutting the door as he went inside. He thought of propping himself on his bed, but he wasn’t sure if Thorns would have room to sit. Granite decided to sit patiently on the floor instead.

“What am I supposed to do now?” he whispered nervously.

Stay here. Use the knife. Release your pain.

He understood. Something was bad inside of him. What is was, he wasn’t sure of, but it needed to come out. Pressing down hard, he sliced a large gash through his right arm. It stung at first, causing Granite to clench his teeth. The sting soon faded as streaks of red leaked out. Theoretically, it should have hurt, but so much came out that it was numbing.

Granite’s body began to tremble and his eyes grew unfocused. Despite his fading vision, he was transfixed on his arm. He saw red, red, and more red, a stark contrast to his grey body. He couldn’t look away from it. A couple of tears managed to escape from him as well. He had no idea why he was crying. Many emotions coursed throughout the foal, the most prominent being confusion. However, even the strongest of his emotions were beginning to fade from his mind-

“Fuchsia! Get an ambulance!” a male voice cried.

His father.

He saw. He saw everything.

Looking back, he couldn’t remember much after that. It was all a blur to him. He could only remember certain things: His father’s eyes darting around, his mother’s horrified face, words uttered that no foal should be familiar with such as suicide and self-harm. Those memories stuck with him for days, and they were all he had while he was put inside a mental hospital. The place were he was diagnosed with schizophrenia. The place where he was no longer considered normal.

Granite shuddered at those thoughts. They were very painful, but they reminded him to never go down that path again. If not for himself, then for his traumatized parents. Deciding to sleep on that thought, Granite ceased his thoughts for the day and slowly got under the covers, turned off his light, and rested his eyes.

Safety Measures

Granite was starving when he woke up.

“I can’t believe I went all day yesterday without eating anything!” he exclaimed.

Honestly, he knew skipping a day’s worth of meals wasn’t so bad as far as nutrition went. What he was really worried about is how a slip up like that could affect him long term. If he forgot one day, how could he trust himself to remember the next? He’d shrivel up like an unwatered flower out in the heat if he wasn’t careful.

Granite knew worrying over such things was unhealthy for him, but he had no choice. It was his only line of defense against Thorns when a pill couldn’t stall him. Thorns behaved like a trip wire. If Granite were to set him off, even if it was in the smallest way, the outcome would always be devastating. Something as simple as forgetting to eat could mean Granite was losing control.

Granite sprung up from his mattress and scurried to the kitchen. He poured himself a small bowl of cereal and grabbed an apple from the fridge. He wanted to slice it into the cereal, despite how risky it was.

Why do I even have kitchen knives if I never get to use them? Granite pondered.

Close the curtains. Pull out a knife. Let red sift through you. Thorns indicated.

Granite let out a small sigh. Resisting the use of a knife was almost worse than actually using one. Resistance provoked a stronger temptation.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he said reluctantly, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He let out a quiet growl in annoyance. Slowly but firmly, Granite slid the drawer open containing the knives.

He plucked a small one out and set it on the counter. He then bent down to the bottom cabinet to retrieve a small wooden cutting board. He set it on top of the counter along with the knife. He then grabbed the apple and set in in the middle of the cutting board. Once everything was prepped, Granite took a long, deep breath before carrying out his task.

He gripped the apple with his right hoof to steady it and grabbed the small knife with his left hoof. He dragged the knife across the counter, scraping the hardwood surface. Granite worried dragging it any further would scratch the surface, so he lifted it a couple of centimeters higher and brought it closer to himself. Eventually, the blades touched the apple and Granite started slicing.

Granite glanced back at Thorns several times, watching him to see if he would respond to the situation. Thorns remained at a perfect standstill during each new apple slice. The silence made Granite feel threatened, causing him to turn back so frequently that he started turning while chopping the apple. Once while he was not looking he nearly sliced into his right hoof.

Sweat began to trickle down Granite’s forehead as he finished chopping the last of the apple. The sweat dripped down towards his hooves, slowing the cutting process. He would not let that stop him, however. He became hyper focused on the apple and did not turn around. He could see Thorns’ eyes glowing with a greater intensity through his peripherals, but did not stop to observe them. He had a task to complete and he was going to finish it.

Thankfully, after one last motion, the apple was completely sliced. Granite scooped up the apple slices and arranged them precisely into his cereal, creating a ring inside the bowl. Happy with the results, Granite took a moment to breathe then set himself down on his dining chair.

Granite finished his breakfast and stared out the window in a daze. He let his mind wander into a state of nothingness whilst his eyes focused on the events outside. For a brief moment, he was at peace. The soothing sound of the wind followed by the soft rustling of leaves rushed through Granite’s ears, filling them with serenity. The wavy green grass covering the lawn and the intricately rough textures of the trees gave his mind focus and clarity. Observing the outlines of nature’s work filled the gaps in his mind with solitary enrichment.

He looked down at his Cutie Mark, a simple red rose, and was reminded of one of his favorite memories: his first time gardening. He smiled as he began to reminisce.

Granite had finally come home. There were flowers outside and a field of soil. The air smelled pleasant, almost sweet. Granite’s mom said the flowers were his, and he got to plant them. When he picked them up he could see the colors streaming from the petals. Red, yellow, and white. They were just as lovely as the flowers’ lively green stems. As Granite planted them, he could feel the smooth and soft soil beneath his hooves. He gently watered the flowers, noticing the soft spray of water sounded like raindrops falling.

He stepped back, admiring his work. He felt proud of taking care of such small, delicate things. The next thing he knew, his flank had emitted a blinding light. His Cutie Mark had appeared, a simple red rose shining proudly.

Granite discovered his talent. His parents danced and cheered enthusiastically. He could just taste the vegetable fritters he was about to eat as his parents proposed a celebratory dinner.

The memory reminded Granite Rose that he needed to go over his list of clients and set up his outdoor shop. The shop was something new to him, but the clients he had had for two years, so it was important to prioritize them first.

Granite got up and deposited his bowl into the sink, along with the knife. He exited the kitchen and headed towards the small closet in his living room.

Granite turned the closet’s door handle and pulled it slowly towards himself, backing up as he did. He stood up and reached over a high shelf. He patted the shelf until he located a medium-sized folder. He trotted back towards the kitchen, setting it down. Methodically, he took out each individual file and studied them carefully.

Granite reviewed all of his clients and saw that he was needed in Canterlot in two weeks and Fillydelphia in three weeks. The trips were not for a while so they gave Granite time to both visit Pencil on occasion and focus on his small flower business.

“Got the trips in my calendar, now I just need to set up my shop!” Granite said to himself.

Before he began sales, Granite delicately planted each flower into their respective rectangular pots. He arranged the pots in a 3x3 pattern just below a wooden sign that read:

Stone Cut Garden

Flowers— 2 bits per stem

Bouquets— 15 bits

Satisfied with the setup, Granite looked out past the horizon for customers.

Go back inside. Keep yourself hidden. Use the knife. Thorns convicted in a more explicit tone than normal.

You’re not the pony I wanted to see Granite mentally retorted.

A week had passed, and Granite had made a considerable amount of money. He had also earned a new client during a run-in with a tourist from Dodge Junction. Granite couldn’t help but smile at the outcomes. His job was not only giving him fulfillment, it was proving to be successful, too. He was also proving to his parents that he was making good use of his independence.

“I gotta tell Pencil about this! She’s gonna love hearing about this! I should write about it to my parents too now that I think about it...” Granite Rose exclaimed.

Run inside. Lock the doors. Rip through your hide. Thorns demanded, lacing his words with intolerance.

Granite shuddered at his commands. He wasn’t usually this...direct. He would always suggest cutting in a delicate manner, not through force. It was like a parent telling their child to clean their room. They had to do it for the parent’s sake rather than the child’s, and if they disobeyed, they would be punished. What Granite could possibly be in trouble for, he had no idea.

“Am I in trouble, Thorns?” he hesitantly asked.

The word “her” echoed through Granite’s mind. He looked down and sighed, knowing Thorns meant Pencil Pouch. He couldn’t help talking to her—they had been friends since their foalhood.

“I won’t talk about you to her this time,” Granite offered, hoping that would put Thorns at ease.

Thorns nodded slightly. Granite nearly jumped out of surprise, not expecting such a quick agreement. His surprise was short-lived, however, once he noticed Thorns’ head turned towards the kitchen.

Granite knew exactly what he was looking at. All he could do was plead with Thorns, emphasizing his desperation with big eyes and a small frown. Thorns responded with an annoyed but calm expression.

The word “talk” reverberated through Granite’s brain. Granite hated the idea of continual conversation with him, but it was manageable. If Thorns was going to keep tabs on Granite, Granite might as well keep tabs on Thorns.

“Alright, we’ll talk. I’ll be careful when I see Pencil,” Granite agreed.

A light knock sounded at the end of the hall. Pencil Pouch smiled, set down her art materials she was using, and answered the door. She was met with the familiar kind face of a certain grey pony.

“Hi, Granite!” she exclaimed.

“Hi, Pencil. I brought you some flowers. I thought you’d like to draw them,” Granite replied.

“Aww, thanks! Wow, they’re really pretty!” she beamed.

Pencil gave the bouquet a closer look and marveled over the colorful array of tulips and lilies arranged in groups. She adored the intricate speckles on the insides of the petals and the fine vein lines around the stems. Pencil was going to have a lot of fun drawing these.

The flowers reminded Pencil of something she planned to ask Granite. Snapping herself out of her trance, she asked,

“So, how’s your garden business going?”

“I’ll tell you when we get inside,” Granite replied, gesturing towards the living room.

“Okay!” Pencil chirped.

“Wow, that’s great! You’re getting business already!” Pencil cheered.

“Yeah! I’m really excited about my new clients, too! It’s funny to say, but I like to travel,” Granite replied.

“I wouldn’t blame you for liking that. There’s really not that much to do here in Sire’s Hollow,” Pencil stated bluntly.

“Yeah,” Granite murmured, staring off into the distance. He took the opportunity to look around for Thorns, who was standing behind the couch Granite and Pencil were sitting on. Granite switched his gaze from Pencil to Thorns rapidly, keeping an eye on them both.

Thorns had tilted his head in Pencil’s direction, staring scrutinizingly. Granite grew extremely uncomfortable the longer he stared.

Don’t! he pleaded mentally, hoping Thorns would stop freaking him out.

“What’s wrong?” Pencil asked with a concerned look on her face. Granite snapped back into reality, focusing on the mare in front of him.

“I’m okay,” Granite replied, hoping his answer was convincing.

Pencil must have realized what was going on because she had only nodded sympathetically. Granite relaxed, feeling very grateful for a friend who was so understanding. She wasn’t going to exploit him.

Thorns, by the way he was now looking at Granite, seemed unconvinced. Knowing he would have to do this sooner or later, Granite transmitted,

I won’t tell her anything. She doesn’t even know we’re doing this

The word “proof” came back in reply. Granite took a shaky breath, his discomfort increasing. Apprehensively, he responded,

What is there to prove? You know she can’t even see you let alone understand our conversations

Thorns barely titled his head in an attempt to point out Pencil Pouch. Granite comprehended that he wanted him to watch her for anything suspicious. It could be the way she talked or even the way she looked at Granite. Anything even a tiny bit disconcerting could mean she knew more than she was letting on.

As Granite observed her, Pencil’s irises began to shrink drastically. She lurched back and scooted back from her original position on the couch. Granite could not fathom why she was acting so strange, so he continued to examine her.

“What?” she shrieked. “Why are you doing that? Please stop!”

Granite jumped at the level of fear arising from his friend. She had never reacted in such a way before. Perhaps he had made it too obvious that he was watching her. Granite felt immediately shameful.

“I-I was just listening to what you had to say,” he lied.

Pencil seemed satisfied with that answer, although her concern had not faded completely. She kept her worries concealed, knowing how dangerous they could be in this type of situation. Pencil sat upright and began talking, hoping to continue a normal conversation.

“So, um, I heard the town committee is planning on building a shopping mall in the center of town. Did you know about that?”

“I think I heard about it,”

“Yeah, uh, it’s going to be like those ‘big city’ malls, but with a historical twist,”

“How are they going to do that?”

“Oh, well, it’ll be like a normal mall but with small ‘museum stores’,”

“That’s good, trying to stick to their roots. Reminds me of my hometown,”

“How are your parents, by the way? Are they taking the whole ‘moving out’ thing well?”

“They’re proud that I was able to move out and be successful. How is your family?”

“They’re doing alright. I miss my sister, but sometimes we write to each other. She told me she’s working for an arcade programming company! It’s really cool!”

“That’s neat,”

Pencil felt obligated to mention one last thing, but she decided to hold it back. A pit grew at the bottom of her stomach. She really wanted to know how Granite was feeling—truly feeling—but she didn’t have it in her to ask. She did not want Granite to have an episode again, not after he tried so hard to prevent the last one.

Granite saw a sudden shift in Pencil’s behavior. She had gone from chatty and happy to quiet and anxious. Was something wrong?

Escape this house. Leave no trace. Resurrect your wounds. Thorns imposed.

Just give me one more second, please! he pleaded with Thorns.

Thorns had made up his mind. His scowl made it clear he felt Granite had been over at Pencil’s house long enough.

“Uh...bye, Pencil! I-I need to get b-back to the house! It’s g-getting late!” Granite stuttered, straining to keep the fear out of his voice.

With a forlorn nod, Pencil replied,

“Sure, of course. Goodnight! See you later!”

“...See you!” Granite responded. Hanging out with Pencil was getting increasingly more tricky, but perhaps if he continued to take precautions, he could convince Thorns to let him stay over again.

Pencil had her mind set on her latest commission, but was constantly diverted by thoughts of the time she spent with Granite. She knew she couldn’t pry too much given how testy Thorns was, but she felt as if she had done nothing. She felt helpless, like what she was doing, despite doing what her friend often suggested, was just not enough.

How is pretending I don’t notice anything helping him? He could be going through something really horrible right now and I’m just letting it happen! Pencil thought in frustration. Pencil’s inner anger projected into her outer expressions, causing her to fling the pen she was using across the room. She was embarrassed over her childish behavior but decided to let it go seeing as she had more pressing issues to worry about.

“If I want to help Granite, I can’t be scared to talk to him. I won’t let him face Thorns by himself,” Pencil declared with a newfound determination in her voice.

She began with a letter.

Granite, after putting what was left of his gardening tools away, plopped himself on his dining chair and let out a tired sigh. He was mentally exhausted. He was supposed to calculate his profits tonight, but in the state he was in, he would just have to do it in the morning.

Get up. Find a knife. Expose your flesh. Thorns commanded, urging Granite to find the strength to get up and complete the task.

Granite was admittedly grateful for the push Thorns gave him, just not eager to go through with malicious plans. Seeing as he had no choice in the matter anyways, Granite got up and trudged towards the kitchen sink, shaking the fatigue from his body. When he arrived, he felt as if he had teleported, the memory of walking towards the kitchen completely faded.

Looking down, he noticed a familiar utensil lying lazily in the middle of the sink, unwashed. Granite could still make out small apple pieces in the blades.

Reaching towards the faucet, he turned the knob to the right clockwise, letting a soft stream of cold water dowse the utensil’s exterior. He watched as the small apple fragments slid down the drain along with a thin stream of juice. The cleanliness of the blade gave Granite a sense of clarity and purity. If this knife could so easily have a fresh start, he, too, could have one as soon as he had a good night’s sleep.

Take the knife. Isolate yourself. Sever pain from your body. Thorns instructed.

Granite knew he wouldn’t make it out of this so easily. Thorns had a grip on him and he wouldn’t let go for anything. Granite knew he could not resist the pull, no matter how hard he tugged. Granite took in a sharp gulp, regretting what he was about to say.

“If I take this with me, will you leave me alone afterwards?” he muttered.

Thorns’ faced softened. Granite could only interpret this as a yes. Tenderly, he reached into the sink and took out the knife. He cradled it so as not to poke himself with the blade. He brought it carefully with him across the kitchen, making his ways towards his room.

Once he was there, he tightened his grip on the knife’s handle. He had to be extra careful with it to ensure he wouldn’t drop it. He lowered the knife, going slower and slower the closer he got to his nightstand. When it had finally reached the nightstand, he set the knife down next to his bottle of pills.

“There. This will be here with me,” Granite reassured Thorns.

The knife brought no comfort to Granite at all, but it made Thorns feel trusted.

“No promises,” Granite told Thorns.

Grab the knife. Lock yourself up. Let pain—

“Goodnight, Thorns!” Granite yelled before hastily shutting his lights off. He crawled into bed and buried his face in his covers as quickly as he could. He had had enough of that demon for one day.

Temporary Solution

Granite held, in his left hoof, the knife he laid out last night and in his right, his medication. He fumbled with them both, weighing their individual consequences. One was obviously more positive than the other, but both solutions, in reality, were only temporary. Either choice would eventually lead back to Thorns.

Squeak!

Granite’s ears twitched at the sudden noise from outside, distracting him from the objects. He went out to investigate the noise, trotting cautiously in case somepony was there. He cracked open the front door, revealing not a single pony nor creature nearby. Granite looked around bemusedly for a moment, searching for the sound's origin. He soon discovered it came from his mailbox, seeing that the lid wasn't shut all the way. Shaking his head stupidly, Granite let out a relieved chuckle and reached into the mailbox to retrieve his mail. Once he got what he needed, he slipped inside and shut the door behind him.

The only item that was in the mailbox was a letter. The envelope was sealed neatly, but the letter itself was worn and scratched as if it had been redrafted dozens of times. It read:

Hey, Granite!

I can tell something’s going on and I’m worried. I think it would be good if you talked about it, even if you only shared a little information. I don’t wanna pressure you, so you only say what you want to. We can go somewhere besides each other's houses if that helps.

How about we go out for smoothies? If you have any other ideas on where to go, feel free to share them. That was just my idea.

- Pencil Pouch

Granite smiled. Despite all that he was going through and despite the paranoia he felt creeping up to the surface, he deeply appreciated what Pencil was trying to do. He felt he just had to take her up on her offer.

“Maybe she could help me. M-Maybe I could finally—“

Stay at home. Lie down somewhere. Let red free your mind. Thorns interrupted calmly, speaking as if Granite was a houseguest.

Granite was torn. He wanted to follow Pencil’s advice but felt beckoned by Thorns like a child being called to supper. Unenthusiastically, Granite went back to the bathroom, knowing Thorns would expect him there.

He sat himself down to look at the objects again. After being removed from the objects for a while, his mind had the clarity it lacked previously. He held the objects with more certainty this time, knowing full well what to do with them. Immediately, he chose one item and set the other gently on the bathroom counter.

“I can keep both of them happy this way,” Granite thought aloud.

Granite was ready to use his item, but found himself short of breath before he could start. He had selected the knife. He wasn’t ready to use it. He couldn’t use it, not after his arm began to tingle all over, sensing the blade like a metal detector. The memories of the past began to flood again, much more rapid than before. It was like a thousand images were being shown to him all at once.

Granite grasped at the counter desperately, trying to cling onto something real. The cold tile brought him back to reality, slowing his rapid breathing into longer, calmer breaths. He ran a hoof through his mane, clasping at the thick strands all covered in sweat. Once he was fully able to calm down, Granite sat up and began compromising with himself.

J-Just don’t do it there. Do it somewhere else and do it smaller Granite instructed himself.

Steadying the blade, Granite pointed the knife just below his right shoulder. Targeting the spot he wanted, he briskly swiped the blade across. Examining it, Granite was worried he would have to try again, but in a few short seconds, blood began to flow. He sensed Thorns’ presence, watching and wavering. Looking up, Granite saw what could only be described as pride on Thorns’ face. His smile was soft and sweet but his eyes were fierce and hungry.

“This isn’t bad. It was small and it was enough for him. It’ll be okay!” Granite tried to tell himself. He curled himself up in the fetal position as the blood began to drip down the side of his arm. He buried his head in his forelegs, waiting in anguish for the wound to clot.

Before the afternoon began, Granite tended to his garden out front to prepare each blossom for the day’s sales. He gathered his supplies and headed to the middle of the garden first, which was the spot designated for flowers meant to be sold right away. He began with the routine watering and nurturing of the plants. He took the watering can over to each flower patch and showered them, the flowers swaying appreciatively. Once each flower was covered in droplets, Granite patrolled in rehearsed circles through the soil, checking each row for any imperfections. A few of the stems needed a light trimming, he noticed.

Deep down, Granite always hated this part of gardening. It made him feel like a flower dentist. However, he knew that it was better to make his flowers momentarily uncomfortable in exchange for a perdurable well-being. Despondently, Granite took to clipping the bedraggled blossoms, softly shushing them as they cried out in barely-audible frequencies. A strong aura of fear surrounded the flower bed but was soon settled as the snap of the pliers grew silent.

“I know you guys don’t like getting trimmed, but doesn’t it feel so much better when it’s done? Alright, if everyone else can cooperate, this won’t take long at all!” he said encouragingly to the rest of the garden.

Pencil had arrived at Granite’s house just moments after he finished closing up shop. Granite figured she would show up here since her schedule was a lot more flexible. She seemed cheerful, but Granite could see the pity in her eyes, even from the distance she was at. He covered up the scratch on his shoulder, feeling immediately ashamed for creating it. If she were to see it, Granite knew the little cheer she had in her disposition would fade. As Pencil reached the front of the flower stand, Granite did his best not to look troubled. He gave his friend a kind smile and asked,

“Hi, Pencil. So, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah! And don’t worry about money, I’ll pay for everything!”

“Thanks,”

The two ponies sauntered off towards the smoothie stand, staring hopefully across the horizon.

Pencil thanked the smoothie mare, gave her a decent tip, then sat down at the table Granite had picked out. She took a brief moment to get comfortable on her seat before she started drinking her orange smoothie. Both her and Granite agreed orange was an odd choice, especially compared to Granite’s strawberry drink, but Pencil still thought it was delicious.

The two sat quietly for a moment, slowly sipping on their smoothies. They took pauses every now and then to avoid brain freeze, but other than that, they didn’t look up from their cups. The awkward silence hung heavily around them, souring the pleasant atmosphere of the shopping district. It wasn’t until their smoothies were nearly finished that somepony broke the silence.

“Why has moving out made everything so difficult?” Granite huffed. “I know part of it’s being alone, but it’s not like I haven’t been alone before!”

“Maybe you’re just stressed about managing all your new expectations,” Pencil reasoned. “I think you’re afraid of messing up and having to move back in with your parents. You haven’t messed up, though! From what I’ve seen, you’ve been handling things pretty well, especially with your business,”

“Hmm, that’s something to consider. I still can’t understand why I’m having more ‘issues’ than normal, though,”

“Have you been taking your medicine?” Pencil hoped the question didn't sound bossy.

“Yeah! Too much of it, actually. I’m scared I’m gonna overdose on accident one day. I feel like I need to take it all the time. It’s like no matter how often I take it, it doesn’t help much,”

“Maybe you just need a stronger dose,”

“Yeah, I guess I can ask about that,”

“Uh, so, is there a-anything else going on? Anything else I can h-help with?” Pencil tapped her hooves together timidly as she waited for Granite to respond.

Granite’s immediate reaction was to touch the shoulder he had sliced into earlier. He so badly wanted to push back the curtain of soft fur and reveal the garish flesh beneath. Exposing it, however, would only bring Thorns back with his scornful, penetrating eyes. Granite couldn’t bare to look into them again, not if he was going to disappoint. Instead, he told Pencil,

“No...everything’s just been...tough. I just need to find some relief,”

“Well, uh, i-if you wanna get your mind off stuff, we can go do something else!”

“How about we take a walk through town?”

“Sure!”

The sun was setting on Sire’s Hollow, emanating a warm orange glow across the buildings and everything surrounding them. The path was blanketed in soft, cool shadows that stretched across the trail. Granite felt more secure out here than he did at the shop. The air was far less dense and occupied. He looked over at Pencil, who was currently detangling the ends of her mane with her magic. He couldn’t tell if her mane was really bothering her that much or she was just stalling conversation. All Granite could really comprehend is that she wasn’t going to speak until he did.

Granite pondered for a moment, unsure of what to say. Millions of thoughts came to his head yet none could translate into words. Granite knew, though, that if he said nothing at all, he would cause his friend a lot of worry. He looked around a moment for something to talk about, eventually finding it within his surroundings.

“It feels so much better outside than at the shop. Easier to breath, easier to, uh, think...” Granite spoke.

Pencil nodded, indicating that she was listening. Noticing this, Granite continued.

“I-I’ve just felt so much more...intense than I did before I moved out. It’s like now that I’m isolated with Thorns, he’s had more time to, um, ‘connect’ with me. He’s noticed how stressed I’ve been lately, too,” Granite explained.

“What’ve you been all stressed about?” Pencil asked.

“I-I don’t know, uh...doing more on my own, how my parents are handling everything, things like that,”

“That’s normal, I think,”

“It would be normal if he didn’t turn my normal thoughts into stressful ones, too,”

“I’m sorry,”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,”

“We wouldn’t be out here if I wasn’t a little worried about you,” Pencil winked.

“That’s true. Well, I guess all I can say is this: everything feels off. Staying home feels odd, going out feels off, really doing anything now feels off! I’m worried all the time that Thorns is gonna make me think or do something awful. And the more I worry about him, the more he shows up! It’s like I’m just...stuck!”

Granite soon felt the weight of his previously suppressed emotions. He had to stop in his tracks for a moment as he was beginning to quiver. He shut his eyes tightly, suppressing the urge to cry. He was not going to break down in front of Pencil again.

Pencil had stopped as well once she no longer heard the soft rustling of Granite’s hooves through the grass. She peered over her shoulder and noticed something was wrong with her friend. Tentatively, she walked up to him to gauge what was bothering him. Pencil felt the need to say something, but could not think of anything useful. All she could do was watch as Granite sobbed under his breath. The longer he cried, the worse Pencil felt about the situation. She was about to finally overcome her shyness and speak to him, but Granite's fit of sorrow had ceased. Pencil would have felt relieved had it not been for the weird expression that appeared on his face. It was like something had just dawned on him.

Granite’s ears flickered towards the back of the trail. He could sense Thorns’ presence though he was not yet visible. Granite couldn’t hold him back for much longer. It was time for him to leave.

“I think I’m ready to head back, how about you?” Granite suggested.

“Okay,” Pencil said, her voice cracking.

“I’m sorry, Pencil, this was stupid—“

“Granite, it was not stupid!” she snapped. Granite jumped at how frustrated she sounded. “Coming out here had to have helped you a little bit! You were a lot more open to me than last time,”

“I was?” Granite asked, bewildered.

“Yeah! Give yourself some credit!”

“Hehe, okay! Alright, I guess I could try that!”

Granite strode towards the buildings that were mere silhouettes now that the moon was beginning to replace the sun. If he had time, he would have gazed at Luna's sky longer, but as much as he wanted to continue enjoying the scenery, he had an obligation to fulfill. He had to act quickly unless he wished to suffer the consequences.

"Hey!” Pencil exclaimed, pulling Granite to the side. Though resistant at first, he stopped trying to break free once he saw Pencil’s friendly gaze.

“First, slow down a bit! You’re going too fast!” she huffed. “Second...whenever you wanna hang out again, just let me know. We don’t have to talk about stuff, we can just do friend things,”

Granite smiled at her. It was sweet that no matter how tricky their friendship could get, she still wanted to spend time with him.

“I'll get back to you on the second thing,” he replied.

With that, he and Pencil continued their journeys back home. Granite had slowed down to match Pencil’s pace, but stayed on his invisible course. He knew not where he was going nor did he understand the involuntary movements of his hooves. However, he knew his body and mind were coincided, so he would not get lost.

Pencil believed she had made progress with her friend but was still very concerned about him. She could tell having the chance to talk really helped, but the worry of something bigger occurring behind the scenes gnawed at her. By the way Granite was looking at her today, he was not just stressed out: he was terrified.

How big is this problem? I know he’s worried about all the new changes in his life, but this is going too far. What’s he really dealing with? she thought.

Pencil spun a few strands of her curls, unraveling them in the process. She clamped and unclamped her jaw furiously. She spun in semicircles in her desk chair, hoping at least one of these bad habits would settle her nerves. Nothing worked. If Pencil was going to sleep tonight, she would have to take action again. She already sent a letter, so she would have to think of something else.

Pencil doodled at her desk for a while as she came up with ideas. She drew a mishmash of different things she had seen throughout the day. Saddlebags, insects, flowers, fruits...flowers! Sliding the page she was using away, Pencil grabbed a new one and located the bouquet Granite had given her. She had placed it on her windowsill for them to get some sun, waiting feverishly for a chance to draw the flowers. Now she finally had a chance to do so!

Pencil stroked the page with sketch marks, then filled in the line work with the most vibrant colors she owned. The petals popped off the page as if the real ones just fell on top of it and the stems were as green and crisp as if the plant had been recently watered. After Pencil spent much time adding to the piece and making edits, she signed the page then rolled it up in her saddlebag. If Pencil couldn’t solve Granite's problems directly, she could at least try to uplift him.

Thankfully for Granite, his predetermined path led to his house. Unfortunately, though, it did not end until he reached the bathroom. Granite groaned upon gaining full awareness of where he was. His pills and knife still lay on the counter menacingly, awaiting further use. Thorns stood by the door, encouraging Granite to walk up to the counter with a nod of his head.

Unwillingly, Granite stepped up to the counter, leaning over it to get a better look of the objects still sitting there. The pill bottle stood off to the side of the sink and the knife lay lazily inside it. Shaking his head, Granite pulled the knife out of the sink to put it back in the kitchen.

Keep the knife. Stay in the bathroom. Stimulate fresh wounds.

Granite sucked in his breath. He knew the knife could never go back in the kitchen. It was no longer a kitchen knife. Despite this, Granite knew it at least had to be washed. He would scrub it as soon as Thorns removed himself from the doorway.

Thorns, apparently, had no intention of leaving anytime soon. Granite tried to squeeze past him, but Thorns’ temperament prevented him from stepping anywhere near him or the door. It appeared that Granite was stuck in the bathroom for the night. Granite had the idea to grab his medication, but he was met with an infuriated growl before his hoof even touched the bottle. The pills were out of the question. There was still the knife of course, but Granite didn’t have it in him to use it again. Instead, Granite grabbed a towel from the towel rack and hopped into the bathtub. The tub was cramped as a bed, but Granite couldn’t complain. He had a toilet and running water if he needed it. Once Granite was able to block Thorns’ bright irises from his view, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming about orange sunsets.

Pressure Points

Granite sighed as he woke up for the morning. The details of the dreams he had were quickly slipping away as his mind was in a haze. He was unable to remember where he was until he blinked a couple of times. He grunted once he realized he was still scrunched up in the bathtub. His joints ached and his neck was sore from lying in an uncomfortable position all night. The pain annoyed him, so he attempted to get out of the tub at once.

Granite slid around until he could place one of his hooves over the tub’s rim. Grunting, he pulled himself until his kneecaps began to pop from the pressure. With his legs no longer feeling numb, he slid the rest of the way out and plopped onto the tile with a skid. He lay there for a couple of minutes as he worked to steady his breath. Once he had the strength, he sat up and massaged the back of his neck to get the kinks out.

Retrieve the knife. Keep yourself hidden. Find answers in blood,

“F-find answers?” Granite whispered.

Granite had tried for years to understand why Thorns was centered on self harm. Neither the psychiatrists at the ward nor his therapists had been able to provide a clear explanation. The best they could provide was that Granite was resorting to self-harm to cope. Like he was doing it by choice.

Now, Thorns was willing to explain himself. All it would take was a bit of self sacrifice. Granite’s heart pounded so heavily he could feel his pulse throbbing. All of his questions, concerns, and doubts could finally be brought to light. Granite grabbed the knife out of the sink hastily, almost as if he was eager to use it. Then he remembered its consequences.

I can’t make more scars! Other ponies could see them and they’ll start questioning me! Granite thought in a panic.

He looked up at Thorns uneasily. He had already suffered the guilt from the last cut he made. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the toll another one could have on him. His eyes filled with desperation, fear, and disbelief. Thorns smiled down at him, but not in a spiteful way. He tilted his neck up confidently and stared at Granite intently. Through his demeanor, he firmly reassured Granite that everything would be alright.

A couple of tears escaped Granite as well as a few shaky but relieved breaths. He sat up and repositioned himself over the sink. Now that he was calmed down, he could do what he needed to do. He clasped the handle of the knife firmly in his left hoof. He brought it towards himself and did not tremble. In a crafted manner, he angled the knife, brought it up, and prepared to bring it down.

Granite’s eyes reflexively squeezed shut, but not because of the knife. What had alarmed his occipital senses was the steady stream of sunlight pouring into the bathroom. His eyes immediately reopened in shock. The sunlight only meant one thing: he overslept for work!

“Oh, shoot! I have to meet with my Canterlot client today! Argh, I better go now before I miss the train!” he shouted.

Abandoning the knife, Granite sprinted for the front door. He hastily grabbed all of his supplies, dropping a few in the process. Once he made it out the door, he swiftly loaded the client’s flowers onto his wooden cart before strapping the harness onto his waist. He then galloped across the yard, panting with the weight of the cart on his back.

Pencil pranced towards Granite’s house with her flower drawing. She figured that if she stopped by now, she would have enough time to drop it off and chat with her friend a bit before he opened up shop. As she neared the front yard, however, she realized there were no tools out nor were there any lights on. She stood with her head tilted, unsure of the reasoning behind the unusual silence. Did Granite oversleep?

“Oh, wait, Granite probably went out of town today!” Pencil reasoned.

Since she couldn’t deliver the gift to him directly, she instead slipped it under the front door. She peered under the door crack to make sure the drawing had completely gone under before she backed away from the porch.

Now that this little trip was over with, Pencil was free for the rest of the day. She didn’t have any commissions she needed to work on right away and she didn’t have to run any errands for at least a couple of days. She could finally take the time to just relax.

I get to have a little ‘me day’! she thought cheerfully as she trotted towards the center of town.

Granite spritzed his flowers and pet them gently. The train ride to Canterlot was quite long, especially considering that it took almost a day to get there. Frequent checkups were a necessity in order to keep the blossoms happy. After each flower was pampered, Granite leaned back in his seat, keeping the cart steady with his hind hooves.

Gosh, I’m hungry, he thought suddenly. I guess I forgot to eat before I left. Oh well, I can afford a little train meal!

When the train attendant trotted by, Granite waved her over. From her, he ordered a plate of cheese, crackers, and grapes with an ice tea to drink. It was a good thing, especially now, that he got to travel in the business section. He thanked the mare before he began to dig into his meal.

This food selection is much better than the last one I had. Nearly everything last time had flowers in it! Granite thought, still perplexed by the situation.

The thought was merely a diversion from the other thoughts he was fighting to keep down.

Pencil was successfully able to make it inside the library after she convinced the two unicorns guarding it that she was only going to stay for a little while. Despite the library being public, the owners were very private about everything in it. Pencil felt quite accomplished just being able to step through the door.

Hmm, was anything new shipped in today? she wondered as she looked around.

Most books here were collections of various historical texts, so to see new releases was a rarity. Pencil knew of this, but she wanted to test her odds. She wandered around slowly, scanning the texts.

It was not until she reached the back that she found something of interest. Leaning on a shelf edge by itself was a thin, gold book titled ‘Distaste’. Pencil always loved obscure titles like that. They allowed her to play a guessing game while she read, which was a treat in literature nowadays.

She glanced at the synopsis, which was thankfully on the back rather than inside of the cover. It was annoying when the backs of books were filled with reviews. Pencil silently clapped, intrigued already by this “Skillet Flip”. Skillet Flip, a simple home cook, tasked herself with figuring out why her town suddenly had such a strong disliking towards food.

Pencil found a desk surrounded by beanbags for visitors to sit at. She plopped into one of them and placed her elbows on the table, the book telekinetically hovering in front of her. Sighing, she waited until she was fully settled before she began to read.

Granite stretched his legs as he finally exited the train. He breathed in the Canterlot air and noticed that, although it was clean, it lacked the natural scent of Sire’s Hollow air. Once he was a good distance away from the commuter crowd, he pulled his clipboard out from his saddlebag.

Let’s see, the ‘Archdome Exhibit’... he read. That’s not too far of a walk. I can still make it there in time!

Don’t go there. Go somewhere safe. Shed blood with sheers,

Thorns! What are you doing here? Granite shouted internally. It was one of Granite’s personal rules to always take medication before he had to travel. So why was Thorns here?

Granite paused a moment and realized that, in his haste, he neither took any pills at home nor did he pack any for the trip. He stomped a hoof on the ground and cursed himself for such carelessness.

Just don’t say anything about my client! he demanded, giving Thorns a menacing look.

Pencil could feel her pulse pounding as soon as she finished the last page. The book’s ending was open-ended and vague, but in a fascinating sort of way. Skillet Flip couldn’t fix her town’s problem, but she did gain a better understanding of the world around her.

That ending was pretty dark now that I think about it, Pencil thought, her brows furrowing in concern. Skillet could cook all of this amazing food yet nopony could ever appreciate it. It’s almost as if she had a different perception of the world instead of the town,

Tap tap.

Pencil whipped her head around and saw the unicorns who were supposed to be outside. The white one was looking at her in annoyance and the brown one was angrily pointing towards the exit. Pencil sighed, then sprung up from her seat. She shrugged as she left, figuring she probably overstayed her welcome anyways. She would have simply checked out the book and left, but there was a strange ‘no check-out’ rule here.

Hmm, guess I’ll just go back home now, Pencil thought, not really wanting to go anywhere else. I need to organize some things anyways,

Within about twenty minutes, Granite arrived at the Archdome Exhibit. The building, from the exterior, looked rather encompassing. The inside, on the contrary, was surprisingly wide and full of more ponies than Granite anticipated could fit. He worried that in a place this huge, it would be difficult to find his client. Thankfully, his client’s puffy, secondary-colored mane stood out from the rest of the crowd.

“Afternoon, Granite Rose,” the client greeted, holding out a hoof.

“Good afternoon, Visitor Pass,” Granite responded, taking the client’s offer for a hoofshake.

“I’ll lead you to the garden—it is quite a ways away from the main area. I’ll tell you what to do once you get there,” Visitor directed.

Turn around. Leave unannounced. Let red rain down your coat,

Don’t look, Granite commanded himself, forcing his eyes to stare straight ahead.

When Pencil got home, she went into her room to assess how much she would have to put away. There were quite a few things scattered both on the floor and on her bed. She began with the items on the floor so she wouldn’t trip on anything.

With her magic, she scooped up the various papers and canvases and stacked them on her desk in order of their respective due dates. She didn’t want to ruin any of her color palettes, so she tied colored pencils lying next to each other up with mane ties and wrapped paint palettes up in plastic wrap. Once she had finished, she moved on to her bed. An assortment of cyborg collectibles lay there, as embarrassing as it was to admit. Even as a young adult, Pencil still enjoyed the escapism of playing.

As she gathered the cyborgs, her imagination took over her actions. She gave a voice to each figurine as it gracefully glided towards its spot on the shelf.

“Wheeee! I’m flying!”

“Prepare for landing in 3...2...1!”

“Aaah, I’m gonna fall, nooo!”

Pencil giggled, unable to make voices for too long. She felt a bit silly now, but she couldn’t help herself. Before she could get any sillier, she placed each collectible back in their respective positions, this time without talking.

“You have from the door to the fence over there to work with,” Visitor Pass indicated, pointing his hoof across the garden.

“Sounds reasonable. I’ll make sure to surround most of the trees as you requested,” Granite replied.

“Good, good, now, sorry to be rude, but I really have to get back inside!” Visitor cried, rushing towards the door.

Granite nodded, turning his attention towards the flowers. He took the pots out of the cart gently, making sure that a petal or a leaf didn’t fall in the process. Once every pot was placed on the ground, Granite used a tiny gardening shovel to dig out a few zinnias. He cupped them in his hooves until he was able to replant them in the mulch surrounding the trees. The mulch only took a few seconds to sift through before the zinnias could be planted.

Granite repeated the process with the irises, camellias, and peonies until everything in the garden, including the building, was surrounded. The finished result filled him with both comfort and amazement. It was like he was in a giant enclosure, safe from everything on the outside.

There were a few leftover flowers Granite had gathered into a pile earlier. He felt extremely guilty for the plants in the pile because they were overwatered. It was such a careless thing to overlook. They could thankfully be resurrected back home, but they would have to endure the long train ride home first.

He gently nuzzled each over-hydrated flower apologetically. He whispered sweet things to them as he packed up all of his supplies. Before he headed through the door, Visitor Pass came out to inspect Granite’s work.

“I take it you’re finished? Let me have a look—” He peered over Granite’s shoulder, nudging him to step aside with his hoof. Granite apologized and gave Visitor some space. Visitor stood still for a long, silent moment before he turned to face Granite.

“I like this, I really do! It looks like a maze...or, no, more like...a museum, yes, that’s a better word! Although, the garden does have a way of making you feel lost in it,” he marveled.

“I’m really glad you like it, sir! Will you be doing payment through mail or right here?” Granite asked.

“Right here, Mr. Rose! I have to bring the party outside, so one of my friends’ll get it for you!” he exclaimed, leading Granite inside and beckoning a teal unicorn stallion over.

Granite followed the stallion inside and was immediately overwhelmed by the noise compared to the softer sounds outside. His ears shrank and the noise reduced for him slightly. That didn’t muffle the loudest noise he was hearing, however.

Escape this room. Leave everything behind. Strike until red flows,

Just shut it! I’m leaving right after this! Granite mentally sneered. He glared back at Thorns with a tired impatience. Through the corner of his eye, he thought he saw somepony else stare back in shock. He turned around immediately.

Pencil nodded her head to the loud music pulsating from her headphones. Her forehooves were tucked behind her head and her hind hooves were tapping to the beat, one at a time. A wide grin was drawn across her face from the boost of adrenaline that the music gave her. Her fur buzzed excitedly as the sound-waves sent vibrations throughout her entire body.

Where do ponies come up with this stuff? It’s really good! Wish I could make something like this, she thought.

She turned the music down a bit so she could think better.

If I had words like these, I could really be helpful! I wouldn’t keep tripping over words or go silent...

She turned the music back up a bit.

Maybe my advice would actually be helpful too, instead of being something vaguely encouraging,

She frowned and rolled on her side. She turned the music up a little louder.

It would be great, too, if I didn’t try to bring up my own stupid problems to be ‘relatable’! Like anyone needs to hear those!

Pencil turned the music up to its maximum volume and pressed her headphones on her ears. A few tears fell down her face.

Why can’t I just leave things alone that I can’t handle!

With a frustrated cry, she threw the headphones across the room. She buried her head in her hooves in an attempt to stop more tears from falling.

...I just wish I knew what to do,

With a long, exasperated sigh, Pencil ceased her sobbing and screaming and quietly lay on the floor. She didn’t feel like getting up, not for quite a while.

Thankfully, the drenched flowers were successfully recovered once Granite got home. He brought them inside to air out in the cool atmosphere of his living room. He was grateful that the train ride home wasn’t too long since there were not as many travelers on board going back.

He put so much attention on the blossoms that he had nearly forgotten about the art he set aside on the table. He brought it over to his lap and examined it. It was another flower drawing from Pencil. The amount of detail she put into everything always fascinated him. The flowers looked so realistic that he believed for a moment that if he touched them, he would feel a wet, smooth texture.

Discard the drawing. Walk to the bathroom. Feel warm red drip down your arms,

Granite grimaced. He didn’t like the way Thorns described that. Bleeding wasn’t supposed to be pleasant. Then again, maybe Thorns’ statement had more to do with getting the action over with than how it was supposed to feel. He settled for that reasoning as he stepped towards the bathroom.

“O-okay, I’m ready,” Granite said with the knife in hoof. He looked back and forth at it and Thorns.

Thorns waited with a blank expression on his face. It was strange to not see him excited over the knife. Perhaps he was just impatient from waiting all day.

Grants grit his teeth as he dragged the blade across his right arm a couple of times. He forced himself to look at the cuts to ensure that they bled. Once red began to trickle down his arm, he looked away from them then looked directly at Thorns.

“Tell me what I need to know,” he told him.

Thorns said nothing. Instead, a seemingly random assortment of words popped into Granite’s head; “trust”, “stuck”, “help”, and “save”. Granite’s eyes widened in curiosity in confusion. Who needed saving and how was he supposed to help? This hardly sounded like Thorns at all.

Shaking his head, Granite washed the blood off his arm in the sink and headed to bed. This was something he would have to figure out in the morning. He was too tired and confused to make sense of it now.

“Ouch!” he hissed as he made his way into the bed.

His arm stung from the wounds. Even though he hadn’t cut that deep, they still managed to irritate his skin. Grunting, he flipped himself around and attempted to fall asleep as he cradled his burning arm.

Open Space

Can I maintain this place and keep up with my medical expenses at the same time?

What if I can’t focus and the workload gets to be too much?

What if I can’t tell if something’s wrong?

What would my parents say to me if they saw what I’ve done?

What if it gets so bad that I scare Pencil away?

Dozens more complicated continued to greet Granite Rose this morning. He reasoned it was because he was restless last night, due to having to remember not to turn over on his right side. He tried shutting the thoughts down by shaking his head, taking deep breaths, and doing a variety of small movements to refocus his mind. Unfortunately, as soon as the worries and fears disappeared, they reappeared just as quickly.

He found himself unable to sit still. He got up to try and do something productive, but found himself too distracted to decide on a single task. He grunted angrily and put pressure on his head in order to force himself to focus. Once the pressure felt like it was reaching through his skull, his mind cleared. It was then that the strange four words from last night were recalled.

Trust, stuck, help, save.

Thorns stood patiently near the bed, curious as to how Granite would decipher the meaning of the words.

Who’s in need of saving? Granite wondered. More importantly, why would you want to save somepony and enlist me to do it for you? That doesn’t sound like you.

Thorns let out a slightly irritated snort. Granite blinked and quirked an eyebrow. Thorns bounced his head up and down, staring intently as he did. It seemed like he was trying to make a gesture, but Granite, for the life of him, couldn’t make it out. After repeating the process for a few more minutes, Granite got annoyed.

“Why don’t you just say it?” Granite spat.

Thorns stared for a moment, moving his lips in an odd fashion. A few barely audible gasps managed to escape from his mouth. The more Granite listened, the more painful they sounded.

“A-are you unable to?” Granite muttered.

Take the knife. Go where it’s safe. Let red pour down. Thorns spat frustratedly.

“Oh, but you can say that, of course!”

Scoffing, Granite ignored the command and marched towards the living room. On the way there, he banged his right shoulder against the doorframe. He winced and looked at the injury, forcing himself to see the scars again.

“Grunt! How deep did I cut?” he asked aloud, his eyes glaring in horror at the two pinkish-red slashes.

They had to have gone through at least a couple of layers of skin, judging by how deep they felt when he ran his left hoof over them. His stomach churned at the thought that he could have seriously injured himself or worse, had he gone any deeper. He shook his head and tried not to think about it too much as he headed outside for work.

Pencil didn’t normally have in-depth discussions with her clients but she appreciated when they occurred. She liked knowing more about what the client wanted and learning more about the client themselves. The more she had to work with, the better her product would be.

“I’d like the piece to be a representation of my former life, back when I was sheltered from all the things I get to experience now." the mare across the table, Chartreuse Essence, requested.

"In what way would you like that represented, exactly?" Pencil asked. As she waited for a response, she toyed with her straw in one hoof and twirled the ends of her mane with the other. Her hindhooves tapped together softly.

"My current home is much more open compared to my childhood home. My old one used to intimidate me with its massive drapes that hid all traces of light. I would like, for this commission, to use that same house but with the drapes open. A glimpse of the future is what I would like you to capture. I want to be reminded of how far I've come after 'seeing the light', you could call it." Chartreuse spoke enthusiastically, clearly very passionate about her idea.

"Wow, t-t-that's quite beautiful!" Pencil replied in awe. She cleared her throat to steady her breath, unsure why she stuttered. "Your idea really gives me a lot to work with! Thank you so much, Ms. Essence, for meeting with me. I know exactly what to draw now!"

"I appreciate it, Ms. Pouch! Not many commissioners take the time to understand their clients like you do." Chartreuse responded, holding out a hoof.

Pencil took her hoof and shook it firmly before departing. As she left, she noticed she had been holding a lot of tension in her shoulders.

Why do I feel so out of it today? she worried.

Unable to come up with a good explanation, she simply shook it off and made her way back home.

Granite shuffled around his flower stand to arrange the rectangular flowerpots sitting below. Marigolds were placed on the left, lavenders were placed in the center, and yellow lilies were placed on the right. He thought the display looked very cheerful and calming.

A customer trotted up and examined the display. A small smile graced her lips as she moved her eyes around to study the selection. Granite worried if she looked in his direction, her smile would fade if she caught the glaring red marks on his arm. Before he had time to react, she looked up, much to his horror. He froze, waiting eons for her to respond.

“How much are these over here?” she asked politely, gesturing to the flowers she wanted.

Granite relaxed. Good, his scars were not that noticeable. Still, he would have to be very cautious going forward. He twisted his arm and held his left hoof over it before he leaned over the counter to respond to the mare.

“A single flower is two bits and a bouquet is five. Take a moment if you need to, then I can have the flowers arranged for you.” he replied.

His eyes darted between his arm, the customer, and the flowers. He wished he didn’t have to keep watch like this. He also wished he had put on his hoodie earlier.

Pencil was enamored with this commission. It was so in-depth and symbolic that it felt like painting a story. She began with the large, dark curtains, filling them in with thick brushstrokes. They appeared rather threatening, which made Pencil shiver upon imagining Chartreuse having to stare at these her entire foalhood. Once the curtains were done, she painted outwards and began filling up the walls. She moved along to the artwork and various antique objects that were placed about, crafting them with such detail that they nearly looked photographic. Pencil sighed, amazed that Chartreuse once lived in a house so magnificent.

It was a shame that most of what made the house beautiful was hidden in shadows. Everything looked so much more beautiful in the light. The light that poured through highlighted the mansion’s best features; gold-trimmed columns that glistened and sparkled, turquoise walls that radiated tranquility, and lush velvet carpets that blanketed the marble floors.

The commission represented a lot about Chartreuse, which got Pencil thinking. She thought about how her own life connected to the symbolism in this piece. She had never grown up in a secluded household but she did consider her foalhood to be sheltered. She always felt “late to the game”, learning about the harsher truths of the world much later than her peers. She was completely opposite to Granite Rose, who was exposed to trauma at a young age. He was forced to deal with the bad side of reality much sooner.

How much darkness is he dealing with right now? Pencil wondered. Could he be like that old mansion, trying to look strong on the outside while hiding all this darkness inside?

Pencil felt strange for comparing her friend’s situation to a metaphor. He is a real pony with real thoughts and feelings, after all. However, this metaphor helped her to better understand what he may be dealing with. From what she could gather thus far, he appeared to be under a lot of stress since his big move. It must be difficult adjusting to living alone and only having a hallucination for company. Thinking of what he must be feeling every day, especially once his shop closes, brought tears to Pencil’s eyes.

She shot up, set her commission aside to dry, then marched over to Granite’s house. She wouldn’t feel right if she didn’t check on him today.

Knock knock.

Granite looked up from his paperwork. He wasn’t expecting anypony over. His ears drooped and his stance went rigid. Could he trust whoever was at the door?

Nopony is supposed to be here. I would have known about it. Did I forget? No, I wouldn’t do that… Granite thought. Maybe…maybe it’s somepony who…isn’t supposed to be here? Oh no, what if it’s that customer from this morning! She saw my scars, didn’t she! She hid it from me and she probably sent some ponies here to collect me! No, no, no, I can’t—I have to hide, I—

Knock knock!

“Granite, it’s me, Pencil!” a voice outside called.

Granite looked up and steadied his breath. He held a hoof to his chest and noticed his heart was pounding. Okay, so it was just Pencil Pouch. Somepony he knew. Somepony he could trust, right?

Thank goodness it’s only Pencil. Still, she knows I’m not good with unexpected visitors…is she okay?

Don’t proceed further. Stay beneath the table. Draw more red lines.

Granite clenched his teeth. What was he supposed to do now? Thorns was blocking Granite and he wouldn’t move until Pencil left. Who knows how long that would take?

“C-c-can I come in?” Pencil asked weakly.

“Y…yeah! Use the key in the flowerpot!” Granite called back.

Thorns snarled at him, baring his glowing eyes right into Granite’s. Granite squeezed his eyes shut then immediately reopened them due to the rapid bursts of color dancing behind his eyelids. He suddenly felt dizzy and had to lay down on his side. He felt better for a moment until he smelled the bitter scent of tar; the scent of Thorns’ tears. It was enough to make him sick. He held onto his stomach tightly, fighting the nausea.

Thorns, I’m sorry, I’ll stay down, I—

Click! Creak.

A faint clopping of hooves could be heard. Slowly, carefully, Granite tried to hoist himself off the floor. He was unsuccessful and it wasn’t like he could get up anyways with Thorns in the way. He would have to come up with a plan. What would be a good reason for lying under the table?

He dropped something, yes! He dropped something and he was searching everywhere for it. That was convincing enough.

“H-hey, sorry, Pencil! I, um, dropped something under here!” he replied. “Just, um, give me a minute…”

“You need help finding it?” she asked.

He looked behind himself. Thorns was still there. He kept guard over the table as if it were a holding cell.

“Uh, n-no, I got it! This won’t take long at all…” he told her. He shuffled around some more just to look occupied. He looked back periodically to see if those grey legs were ever going to disappear, but they never left. Granite frantically ran his hooves through his bangs. He clenched his teeth to hold back tears and tightened the muscles in his arms to prevent the sudden tingly feeling that was surfacing from them.

“Granite, are you stuck down there?” Pencil asked, puzzled.

She bent down to locate him. She wasn’t able to duck under the table since there was hardly any room, but she could extend a hoof out. Granite looked at it for a long time, unsure what to do. He could really aggravate Thorns right now. Then again, he really wanted to get off the floor. Tentatively, he reached out and took Pencil’s hoof. He was slid across the floor until he was able to stand up on his own.

“I, uh…let me put this thing back!” he announced, hobbling to his room to put the imaginary object away. Before he returned, he made sure to grab his hoodie.

As they sat on the couch, Pencil noticed Granite’s hair was frazzled and his hooves were shaking slightly, but she didn’t want to cause him further distress by bringing it up. She tried to ease her way into a conversation but kept catching her breath instead. She looked down at her hooves as a distraction but found that they were quite shaky as well. The only way to stop them, and hopefully Granite’s, also, was to start talking.

“S-so, I made this really interesting commission today. I don’t have it with me since I already gave it to the client, but the symbolism she requested really stood out to me…” Pencil started, pausing to see if Granite was paying attention.

“Oh?” he responded. He shifted slightly.

“Yeah, it was this room in a mansion that was covered by this large drape. All the beauty of the room was hidden in darkness. Not only that, but the ponies living inside missed the chance to see any light since they were afraid of it.” she elaborated.

“How exactly does it stand out to you?” Granite asked, cautiously intrigued.

“I-it, um, reminded me of a similar situation. M-m-maybe you’re stuck in some darkness of your own and i-it’s covering up the rest of you?” Pencil stammered. Her eyes grew wide as she scooted back, worried she would intimidate her friend.

Shoot! Does she know? Granite thought in a panic. He froze for a moment until he realized he was wearing his hoodie and Pencil had not stepped into the bathroom. He relaxed, then looked back up at his friend.

“I don’t know what to say. If I say anything, I…”

“How about this? How about you say whatever you need to and I won’t say anything back? Does that help?” Pencil offered.

Granite thought a moment, quirking his brow. It was a strange offer but not one he was opposed to.

"Alright." he agreed.

"I thought about what you said about all the new stresses I might come across. I'm dealing with those, yes, and they do make things difficult. However..." Granite began. Pencil maintained a calm disposition.

"Are they really why I'm so on edge or is it something deeper? The more I think about it, the more I realize that might be the case. I-I think I'm worried something's gonna happen to me, whether it be my doing or someone else's," He looked at Pencil carefully. "There are so many triggers. There's so many words I can't say and so many thoughts I can't have. It feels like I can't talk about anything without setting something off." He looked at her helplessly.

Pencil really wanted to say something but kept her word. Instead, she looked at him thoughtfully and offered her arm out to him. Slowly, Granite leaned into the half-hug.

”Ugh!" Granite cried.

"What's wrong?" Pencil asked quickly.

“U-uh, you just hugged me a little too hard!" Granite replied just as quick, hoping to deflect the situation.

Pencil relaxed slightly and Granite relaxed with her. They sat in a tired silence for a long while, eyes averted. Once they had sat for long enough, Pencil sat up and waved briefly as she departed.

Granite sat on his bed and applied ointment to his cuts. Best to not let them get infected. It would be much easier to do this in the bathroom, but he knew where that would lead. When he was finished, he sighed and lowered himself onto the mattress.

Sit up. Step inside the bathroom. Draw new lines.

Granite sat up, a little too quickly than he meant to. He aggravated his wounds again, only adding to the frustration of the situation. Couldn't Thorns just leave him alone already?

"You know what? If you want me to go in the bathroom so bad, you're gonna have to come over here and push me in." he retorted.

Thorns quirked an eyebrow and grunted. Granite became equally confused and fixed himself to face Thorns. After observing each other for a moment, Granite noticed something very unusual.

Thorns twitched here and there, then it became more prevalent. He got frustrated and started grunting. The grunts turned into pants, which turned into cries. His movements became more violent and sporadic, almost as if he was convulsing. Granite tried to look away but could only will himself to look down. As he did, he noticed Thorns’ lower body was completely still, despite the strain being put on it.

You're locked in place... he realized.

Thorns’ breathing became less severe and his gaze softened. A few extra black tears had stained his face, Granite noticed. A twinge of sadness arose in Granite as he stared at the tired pony across from him. This must be what flowers feel like, he thought, swaying in many directions but too firmly rooted to travel.

Subtle Hints

Pencil had been awake for a while, yet she found it a rather difficult task to remove herself from the bed. She kept finding herself staring into space, thinking about nothing and everything at once. Time felt like it was moving so slow, which was making her sleepy. She began to lie back slowly, too fatigued to maintain her upright position.

Pencil’s hooves slowly went limp and began to dangle off the sides of the bed. Her eyes drooped until her vision became so blurry that she could barely make out shapes. Her breathing softened and her thoughts hushed, as if she were able to turn her brain's volume down.

Things were so peaceful lying here. Maybe she would just stay like this all day.

You're not doing anything productive!

Pencil jolted, sending the covers flying and causing her to nearly fall out of the bed.

It didn’t take long for Pencil’s heart to palpitate and her breathing to quicken. She felt disoriented, almost dizzy as complex shapes shot back through her retinas and her thoughts swiftly regained coherent words like a radio picking up feed.

Alright, fine, getting up! I need to get a move on with this new project I'm starting, anyways.

She reluctantly forced herself out of bed, practically throwing herself to the floor. She hit the floor a little harder than she meant to as a result.

“Well!” she scoffed, straightening herself up.

Granite couldn’t be bothered to take off his hoodie yesterday. He had slept in it all night. It reeked of sweat and tears but he didn’t care. It made him feel safe. The black fleece was like a suit of armor protecting him from any physical danger. It was also quite soft, as if another pair of hooves was wrapping around him protectively.

Why don’t I wear this all the time? Granite wondered. He breathed in deeply as he began to contemplate this, then quickly came to a conclusion.

“Eugh!” he gasped, immediately taking the hoodie off and tossing it aside.

Granite sighed and laid back down on his bed for a moment. He hugged himself, suddenly longing for that soft fleece again. If it wasn’t for the relatively warm weather outside, he would have definitely reconsidered wearing it the whole day.

He missed the colder weather sometimes. Cold weather meant he could wear long clothing without any judgment. It meant all he needed to numb the fiery feeling in his arms was to step outside. Colder weather was miserable for his plants, though. It was bitter and often unforgiving to them, despite Granite's intricate protective measures.

Not wanting to think about that aspect anymore, he turned away, happening to look in Thorns' direction.

“Why does it...burn?” Granite asked suddenly, looking up at Thorns. He didn’t care this time how much it hurt to stare at those blazing eye sockets.

Thorns gave him a mildly displeased look. It said, “You know the answer”. Granite looked down defeatedly, then took a moment to rub his eyes. When he looked up again, he shakily replied,

“N-no, I don’t, actually. Please, Thorns, please just tell me.”

Thorns stood silent a moment, as if in deep thought. Granite fidgeted nervously as he waited. After what felt like an eternity, Thorns finally communicated something.

Thorns bulged his eyes out and gritted his teeth. He swayed his head back and forth and grunted, appearing to struggle. The dreadful motions continued until Granite finally spoke.

"So, you're saying something painful is inside me?"

He was reassured with a simple nod from Thorns.

"Okay, what's the painful stuff, then?" Granite asked impatiently.

No response.

"Guess that's for another day, huh?" he asked defeatedly.

After a nice shower to get rid of the hoodie stench, Granite decided to head out to grab a few supplies. Although he normally did his shopping quite early in the morning, the shower gave him a late start to his day so now he would be out when lots of ponies were, too. Granite cringed.

Not very easy to be discreet in the daylight. he thought.

He would definitely have to cover up but he couldn't use his nasty hoodie again. Granite trotted over to his closet to see what he could find. Since he didn't wear many clothes to begin with, his options were quite limited. Inside was a black winter jacket, a black sweater, and an empty hanger where his hoodie would be. Yikes.

The items in his closest were way too warm, not to mention he'd look ridiculous wearing any of those clothes if there wasn't any snow out. Still, he had to wear something; there was no way around that.

"Ugh, so much for showering!" Granite complained as he retrieved his hoodie from where he threw it. There wasn't any time to wash it, so he just threw it on and tried to ignore the grimy feeling all over his body.

"I really could've cut somewhere better! But noooo, I just had to pick the most visible spot!" Granite cursed at himself as he made his way outside.

Pencil took careful steps towards the market to compensate for her slightly disgruntled appearance. She combed her mane and tail thoroughly and did her best to appear clean, but it didn’t come together quite like she had hoped. Her hair was badly frizzed at the ends and flat, and there were small bags under her eyes. Seems like this was another one of those "off days". Pencil just hoped nopony would think much of her appearance.

She didn’t spend long at the stalls since she already knew what she wanted. Unlike most ponies, she didn’t see the point in frolicking around stalls or stores when it was much easier to just grab and go. She made relative haste at the market, buying some fruits, veggies, an assortments of snacks, and other miscellaneous grocery items. Most ponies chatted with the stall workers, but Pencil didn’t find it necessary unless she had a question. Was that rude, or was it polite to the ponies who just wanted to do their jobs?

A customer nearby smiled at her and she smiled back, although the effort felt slightly forced. When she was able to relax her facial muscles, a twinge of guilt tugged at her for being disingenuous. She stared at the ground in concern.

How often do I act like this? Pencil wondered. She may be faking it without even realizing! Well, with strangers, it didn't matter too much since she wouldn't see those ponies again anyhow, but what about her loved ones? What does that say about her if she just goes through the motions with friends and family?

Suddenly, Pencil felt a little dizzy. She had to shake her head a few times to get the feeling to pass. Once she was stabilized, she took a few slow, calm breaths.

Ok, I'm probably overthinking this...I'm sure this is all because of a lack of sleep! I do genuinely care about my friends and family! she thought reassuringly.

Question is, do they see it that way? she thought as she started leaving the market, allowing worry to creep through her thoughts once more.

Granite felt extremely exposed the moment he reached the market. He had to feel himself to make sure he was still wearing his hoodie. Normally, going out wasn't a big deal since most ponies didn't converse with him aside from stall workers, but today he was worried that his odd fashion choice would inspire unwanted conversation.

He was quite careful with his eye movements, ensuring he wouldn't make eye contact where it wasn't warranted. He also took measured steps, making sure he didn't fall off balance, walk too slow, or do anything that looked out of place. When he finally made it to a stall, he felt a cold sweat break out. Great, more hoodie stench! He stepped back a bit, worried the stall pony would catch a whiff of it.

"Hello, sir, what can I get for you this morning?" the pony asked, speaking as sweet as he could. Granite almost found that comforting.

"I'll take a bushel of apples, one container of strawberries, and a couple of pears, please, sir." Granite responded.

Can never be too comfortable around the nice ponies, though. The niceness could just be a way to hide bad intentions. Granite thought as he swiftly made his purchase, but not so swiftly that he looked impatient.

Granite wanted to let out an exhausted sigh, but that could also garner unwanted attention. All this building exhaustion was probably putting bags under his eyes. He blinked a few times in an attempt to wake up a bit more. His heart dropped as he did that, worried that would look wrong too.

He wanted to look back at Thorns to see if he was doing things right, but he knew deep down that the best thing to do was to just press forward. The quicker he could get this arduous shopping trip over with, the better.

As Granite was heading home, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something purple and light brown.

Pencil? Hehe, we rarely shop at the same time! Granite mentally chuckled. Thorns didn't find this as amusing, though.

She was surprised to see Granite here, too. Once she got over the perplexion, however, she bounded over to him with a small piece of folded paper.

"Hi, Granite! I have this thing to give you! Ok, bye, time to avoid ponies!" she exclaimed quickly before escaping the burden of morning socialization.

Granite chuckled while rubbing his ears. Sometimes she got pitchy when she was excited. Once his ears recovered, Granite opened the folded note, which read:

I'm doing a little art project that I need your assistance on. Won't take long, promise! See you after your shop closes up, if you're not busy!

-Pencil Pouch

Granite nodded. Admittedly, he thought it was bold of Pencil to just invite herself over for something so random, but he did appreciate that she at least warned him ahead of time that she was dropping by.

Once Pencil finally had breakfast and recuperated some energy, she began putting together her side project since there weren't any pressing commissions to deal with. She was inspired by a doodle she made, which was seemingly random but deeply emotional for her. Laying before her was a scene of an art studio. The wooden desk in it was quite beautiful and detailed, as were the canvases hanging on the wall. However, the contents on the desk were rather disorganized. Pens and pencils lay about randomly, papers were scattered, and a few paint and marker splotches stained the surface of the desk.

Pencil's plan was to create an exercise where all her friends would draw personal emotional pieces and have her try to interpret them. Her goal for this was to gain a deeper emotional understanding of all her friends and visa versa. Her hooves rubbed together in anticipation. This was going to be so exciting!

Pencil sprung up from her seat, eager to get started. She grabbed an oversized saddlebag that held a large sketch pad and a few sharp pencils. She was going to Granite's house first. She hoped she wasn't being annoying by frequenting his house so much. He just happened to be the friend in the closest proximity to her.

Now that work was finished, Granite could finally take his pungent hoodie off. He remembered to throw it in the laundry this time so the stench could finally dissipate. Now utterly exhausted from the day, Granite flopped onto the bed, sinking into the mattress. He knew Thorns was watching him there but he was too exhausted to care much about it.

Knock, knock!

Granite sat up suddenly. He almost forgot Pencil was coming over tonight. Quickly, he messed with his mane a bit to straighten it out and made his way to the door, head up and poster straight. Even though this was just Pencil, he wasn't going to look like a slob.

Shoot, the hoodie! he panicked. It's still in the laundry—what could he do about it now? He could just choose another item in his wardrobe but that would probably arouse too much suspicion. Frantically, he went to grab his hoodie, hoping it was dry by now.

Still wet. Well, it's not drenched. I can deal with that. Granite reasoned, although he cringed at the thought of more odor potentially combining with the water.

"H-hello, Pencil," Granite said as he grabbed the door for her. "Sorry for keeping you waiting."

"It's ok, Granite." Pencil said, beaming. "So, I have a little art exercise for you! I hope you'll find it as interesting as I do. Wanna grab a seat on the couch?"

"Of course." Granite said with a genuine smile as he led Pencil to the living room.

"Okay, so, here's the deal: whatever you're feeling right now, try and illustrate that. When you're done, I'll take a look and try to
guess what it's supposed to represent." Pencil explained.

"Ok..." Granite replied, feeling slightly uneasy as Pencil gave him the large notepad and a pencil.

He sat there a moment in silence. Was he supposed to draw his current feelings, or his overall feelings throughout the whole week?
Was he allowed to be abstract, or did it have to be literal? He looked up briefly, seeing Pencil waiting. He would have to come up with something soon or else she would start asking questions.

Granite's left hoof made a rhythmic slicing motion across the paper. He was quickly unsatisfied with that technique, however, since he erased the pencil marks almost as quickly as he had made them. He instead gave his etches more movement as if they were dancing across the page. He appeared to be attempting to better harmonize whatever he was drawing but quickly erased that too, still unsatisfied.

Meanwhile, Pencil stared absentmindedly about the room. Wasn't much fun to sit there and watch somepony draw if you couldn't even look at their work. She knew how weird it was for somepony to stare over her shoulder, though, so she resisted the urge to pester Granite and just let him do his thing. She inhaled softly in an attempt to relax.

Huh, where's that smell coming from? Hope that isn't me... Pencil wondered.

Granite's movements became a lot more sporadic. Pencil was able to form a few guesses as to what he was drawing the first couple of times, but now it seemed as if he was just pointing the pencil in different places without rhyme or reason. Feverishly, Pencil wondered what all this would mean.

Finally, to Pencil's excitement and relief, Granite was finally finished. He gently gave Pencil the notepad back, which she nearly yanked out of Granite's grasp. Holding it in her magic, she leaned back to study it.

"Fascinating." she remarked. "This is different than many things I've seen before, and especially different from what I normally see from you."

Granite just nodded. He wasn't sure if Pencil's response was good or not so he didn't dare attempt to question it.

"Tell me, Granite, without giving the whole thing away, what were you thinking as you were drawing this?" Pencil asked quizzically. She furrowed her eyebrows and tapped her chin in a thoughtful manner as she awaited his response.

"Uh, I-I-I'm not sure. I, um, just drew stuff." Granite stuttered, drawing into himself. He quickly realized what he was doing though and proceeded to shrug his shoulders to appear more nonchalant.

"Um, okay." Pencil said, a hint of skepticism in her voice.

"Welp, here is my guess: this is a representation of all the new changes you're going through, in that you're taking in many new things at once! It's all quite beautiful but overwhelming at times...is my guess correct?"

"Y-yeah, um, right on the dot!" Granite sputtered.

Pencil beamed, then sprung up from the couch and headed towards the door. Granite quickly followed. Despite his nerves, he didn't want his friend to leave without him saying goodbye.

Holding the door open for her, he said,

"You'll have to let me know when you're done with your project. I'm curious as to what everypony else comes up with."

"Oh yeah, sure! Just gotta see how many of our other friends are available to participate. I already contacted Global Gleam about it so she's gonna be next, and I know she'll love it!" Pencil exclaimed, her entire face lighting up.

Before Granite closed the door behind her, he gave her a warm smile and a small wave. She gave a hyper wave back and Granite just had to giggle at that. He then took a moment to exhale, not realizing he was holding a breath in.

Loose Interpretations

Dear Granite Rose,

We wanted to give you a bit of space so you could have time to settle in, so we decided not to pester you right away. We're sure you're all settled in by now, so, how have you been? Is the flower business going well? How is independent living going? Do you need anything? Sorry, that's probably too many questions all at once, but we just want you to know that we're here for you any time.

Mom: I have a couple coloring book samples you might like that have flowers in them. Want me to send them to you?

Dad: If you ever need some extra gardening tools, there are some spare ones in the shed. How about your little plastic shovel you used as a colt? Ha! Just kidding!

We love you! So proud of you, Granite!

Love,

Mom and Dad

Granite stared at that letter for the longest time. He had certainly planned to write his parents at some point and he was more than happy to hear from them, but...how could he possibly tell them what was going on? If they knew what he'd been doing these past few weeks, they'd be disappointed, scared, and maybe even hurt.

Ugh, I don't know! Granite thought angrily. There's nothing I can say that won't send my parents into a panic. I just can't tell them that I...

Granite rubbed his arms nervously and glanced around. He wished it wasn't so quiet around here. Back home, there was always the noise of his parents chatting or shuffling around to give his ears something to focus on. Even when he was home alone a few times as a teen, knowing his parents wouldn't be out for long comforted him during those periods of silence. Now the only pony around was the one he always sought to avoid.

Come on, come on! he thought, concentrating back onto the letter.

He strained his brain so hard to come up with something that it was as if he was trying to will some words out of the paper itself. Not wanting to induce a headache, he shortly stopped. He sighed then picked the pencil back up. He swayed it gently side-to-side, swinging it like a pendulum. It felt a bit cold in his hooves but the sensation was quite soothing, unlike the tip of the pencil, which made his hooves feel a bit tingly. The sensation kind of reminded him of—

Whoosh! Clatter! went the pencil as Granite threw it. The tip broke off upon impact.

All of this was just wasting time! He'd have to come back to this after work now that he was running behind.

Global Gleam, one of Pencil's good friends, was kind enough to travel all the way from Galloping Gorge to visit Pencil so she wouldn't have to make the trip herself. Her motorbike was really fast and reliable so it was quite efficient, anyhow. The light red mare with a brighter red mane was currently zipping down the thin dirt roads towards Sire's Hollow with her short mane flowing like a kite in the wind and her leather jacket fluttering like a cape. Her sleek black helmet glistened in the sunlight, as did her recently polished motorbike.

When she neared the gated entrance, she stopped and tied her bike onto a nearby tree. Pencil Pouch was waiting on the other side, waving eagerly. Global grinned and took her helmet off, revealing her light blue eyes that were glistening in the midday sunlight.

"Hey there, Pencil!" she called as Pencil kindly opened the gate for her.

"Hiii!" Pencil responded, giving Global a big shoulder hug after she entered and heard the infamous "Welcome to Sire's Hollow" chime.

"Sooo, I hear you have some sort of experiment for me to partake in?" Global asked eagerly.

"Yup! All you gotta do is draw something and I'm gonna analyze it when you're done. Hey, thanks for coming all the way out here to visit me, by the way. I really appreciate it, especially since I'm no good at directions." Pencil responded.

"No need to thank me, you know I love traveling any day! Now, let's get started on this drawing thing of yours. I'd like to see your house, too, since I don't think I've seen it yet."

"Okay!"

The two giddy mares strode off to Pencil's, chatting the whole way there.

These scars are healing fast. That's good. Granite thought as he inspected himself.

The next time he cut, it wasn't going to be in such a visible place. He had so many less obvious places on his body to use, and it's not like Thorns was picky about where he bled from.

Speaking of Thorns, there he stood, curiously arching an eyebrow at Granite. "B-back for more already?" the more timid pony asked. "Can't this w-wait until evening?"

A hot white stare bore into him in reply.

"Alright, alright, hold on!" Granite yelped, trembling as he inched towards the bathroom.

Click!

He sat down in his usual spot with his kitchen knife in hoof. He scanned his body, locating a decent spot to target.

Okay, here it goes... he thought. Lift it up, swing it down—

Wait.

Startled, Granite fumbled and dropped the knife with a loud clang! Who said that, him or Thorns? Granite flipped his head around, wondering if Thorns was also confused.

Try again. Go deeper. Free your blood.

Granite stared back with a horrified expression. Thorns had never sounded so desperate before!

Touche. Granite thought, realizing his desperation was growing, too. Why else would he continue to hurt himself?

He sucked in his breath as he started bringing the knife closer to his fur.

The tension between his skin and the tip of the blade was intense, like a balloon the moment before it was about to pop. Granite tried to keep his breathing level, but his breaths only quickened as the pain kept worsening. Finally, when the tip felt like it was pushed deep enough, he slashed the knife across the right side of his torso and let all the built up tension finally release.

Granite watched tearfully as a thin stream of red poured down his throbbing grey leg. It was hard not to focus on his own agony right now, but he had to stay strong if he wanted to get his answer. It would be a waste not to pay attention.

Thorns smiled contently as he watched the stream of blood in fascination. Granite sat there tortuously as he waited for Thorns to be done. When Thorns' head finally lifted, Granite clutched his side and let out a few relieved gasps.

Thorns made an odd display by leaning his head over to the side and sticking his tongue out. It was almost humorous to Granite. Thorns also managed to make a few black teardrops form and fall on the ground.

Szzh, szzh!

"Thanks for that." Granite grunted as a few more tears stained the floor.

He continued watching the charade and attempted to study it. It was proven difficult as the word "blood" started to repeat feverishly in his head. He tried blocking it out, but that only made the volume of the chanting increase.

Soon it was all he could hear, despite his labored breaths. The room started spinning in a mix of grey, white, and red. It was fortunate that he wasn't standing or he might've fallen over. Granite was eventually able to get the room to stop spinning, but the loud chanting persisted.

"Ok, ok, I think I get it." he replied weakly, hoping that response would suffice. Fortunately, the voice lowered its volume until it was completely silent.

Finally, Granite could get up and move on from this mess. He grunted as he shakily stood up.

He quickly bandaged up and headed outside. Time to get all the equipment ready before—

"Sunrise already?" Granite gasped as he glanced out the window.

Global took a moment to look around Pencil's home once she stepped inside. She smiled at the lavender walls, knowing they must make her unicorn friend so happy since they're her favorite color. She wondered where all of the decor was, though, since the walls were so bare.

"Where is all your decor, filly?" Global asked.

"Oh, I just don't see the need in hanging up a bunch of stuff." Pencil replied. "I do have a few of my own artworks hanging in my room, though."

Global hummed, then took a brief moment to analyze the rest of the ground floor. Other than a couple small tables, a decent-sized coffee table, a couple mats, and the couch, there really wasn't much.

Although minimalism bored Global, she could at least understand why Pencil liked it since she was new to home-owning and she lived alone. Content with the silent inspection, she grabbed a seat on the couch. She stretched all her tired limbs out and sighed contently.

"Okay, so I've got this notepad here and you're gonna—wait, hold on, do you want me to grab you a snack?" Pencil sputtered, talking almost too fast for her lips to keep up.

"Uh, sure." Global replied, sinking further into the couch.

The red mare almost dozed off before Pencil skipped back into the living room, dangling a small bag of pretzels above her.

"Heh, thanks." Global said, tearing into the bag. "Last I remembered, you always had these sorts of snacks on you. You do eat real, healthy foods as well, don't you?"

Pencil frowned. "Ugh, yes, I do! Um, sometimes...d-don't be my mom!"

Global giggled as the pouting Pencil took her own seat on the couch. Pencil then began to explain the project Global drove all the way from Galloping Gorge to help her with.

Granite stumbled out the door, quick to grab all his daily supplies. He’d been decoding Thorns for so long that he was running behind schedule! Not only did that mean less profits, it meant less time to properly care for his garden.

“I am so, so sorry!” he cried to all the flowers. “I hope you’re all ok, I’m sorry!"

He bent down towards the various patches of flowers, clenching his teeth as a twinge of pain shot through his side. He tried his best to ignore it for the time being as he carefully inspected each petal on the flowers. Some looked a little dry, but otherwise healthy. Very slowly, he got up to grab the watering can.

Granite gently sprinkled the thirsty flowers, then leaned down to pet them again. He sighed, wishing he had made the time to properly care for them like he usually did.

"It's still pretty hot out." Granite said. "You all should be good for a while but I'll be back to check up on you, okay? Don't want anyone getting too dehydrated."

He gave them one more look-over before he stood back up.

"Okay, guess I better set up shop. If any of you go to a new home today, I hope you go to a very caring pony. Maybe somepony a little less scattered than me, hehe." Granite chuckled as he trotted towards his booth.

Global took her time on her drawing, although she knew it wouldn't amount to anything her amazing artist friend could ever draw. At least she'd learned enough during her years of teaching to draw something recognizable. When she was finished, she sunk back into the couch and gave the sketchpad to Pencil.

"Thanks!" the chipper unicorn exclaimed as she studied the artwork.

It was a thought bubble with many crude sketches of various objects, ponies, and vegetation. They looked to be from various places in Equestria, all of which Pencil knew Global had visited at least once. Everything about the drawing radiated energy and excitement since everything looked so cheerful and lots of things were underlined.

"You're thinking about all your travels and how much fun they are." Pencil said.

"That's part of it." Global said with a wink.

"R-right, I'm supposed to go a little deeper with this...uuh, your travels have filled you with a lot of awesome knowledge and wonder. Oh, and you have a lot of experience around the world!" Pencil replied.

"Correct. My theme probably wasn't that hard to figure out, but I do think of my travels a lot. It's very exciting to go and see new things and it's also...comforting to possess a lot of knowledge. Even if it isn't all fun to know, it's better than not knowing much at all." Global replied.

"Right." Pencil nodded while looking away. "I wish I knew as much as you do, or at least a fraction of what you know. Sometimes I feel like I just go through life not having any idea what's going on. Heh, it's kinda why I'm doing this experiment. I guess I don't know my friends that well if I have to analyze their personalities through some drawings."

Global sat up.

"Hey, now, don't beat yourself up. Art is how you communicate best. That's something very special about you, don't forget that!" she said. "You may struggle with certain things, like how to decorate a house..."

"Hey!"

"Haha, kidding! Anyways, you probably know more than you think. You either need to give yourself more time to learn something new or just re-approach it. You may end up surprising yourself."

"Probably."

Pencil shifted into the couch, turning away. Global brought up some good points, but still...was she right? Would Pencil really be able to solve some of her problems if she just changed the way she thought about them?

Guess I could at least test her theory. Pencil thought.

Nervously, she pulled out Granite's drawing she'd held on to. She really hated to involve somepony with something private of Granite's, but what choice did she have here? She could be missing something crucial he was trying to tell her! Besides, his name wasn’t even on the paper, so if Global suspected this was Granite’s work, Pencil still had the ability to keep the drawing anonymous.

Global tapped a hoof to her chin as she studied it intensively. After much thinking, she said,

"I'm no art expert, but if you're just going off thoughts and feelings with this one, it looks...distressed? Frantic? Moody? Clearly whoever drew this either has a lot on their mind or they drew this very quickly. Or both."

"Hm, yeah, I gathered that as much." Pencil replied.

"Hey, did your friend Granite draw this? I know he really likes flowers." Global asked.

Pencil quickly stuffed the drawing back into her notebook. She then silently cursed herself for making a scene.

"Uh, that's all I had to show you." she sputtered.

Global thought about asking Pencil what was wrong but decided not to press. She already seemed a bit strung up today and figured all the mare wanted to do was relax. Instead, she asked,

"Can we play a game?"

Pencil nodded and led her to the games closet.

Various drawings littered Granite's desk, all of which were more abstract that his usual art. They were also a lot sketchier, much like the drawing he drew for Pencil.

What was that drawing exercise for, anyways? Granite wondered. What was it really for? Maybe I shouldn't do something like that again...that stuff doesn't seem too safe to participate in right now.

Turning again to his drawings, he realized he drew them with such haste that he wouldn't be able to remember their context later on. While the context was still fresh in his mind, he hurriedly wrote important words down.

"Deeper...freedom...b-blood..." he murmured. "I h-hate that word...why did he have to say it so much today?"

An intense tingly sensation overcame Granite, one he was quite familiar with, along with a bit of stomach pain. He groaned, wrapped his arms around himself, and put his head down. Then his stomach growled, and he realized he forgot to eat today.

He hopped up from his desk to go get a snack, one that wouldn't need any prepping. As he trotted towards the kitchen, he smelled something akin to burnt rubber or tar.

"What is that?" he asked, following the source of the odor. "...Oh."

Granite forgot that Thorns' tear stains were still on the bathroom floor. To be fair, he hadn't imagined they would actually stay there. Sighing, he grabbed some paper towels from the kitchen counter and started rubbing at the stain.

"Oooww!" he howled, jumping back. The tears were scalding hot! They were so hot that they singed the fur on the tip of Granite's hoof...somehow.

After shaking his hoof around to cool it, Granite tried again by dampening the paper towels first.

"Ah!"

That wasn't much better. He'd just have to leave the tears there for now until they cooled. Stepping around them very carefully, he trotted over to the cupboards to grab some crackers, then made his way back to his writing desk.

Granite continued siphoning through all his drawings as he snacked, doing his best to assign meaning to the frantic images. Cleaning the floor had distracted him a bit so he couldn't remember everything he drew, but he did remember most of it. Once he finished writing notes, he took a quick glance at some bills and paperwork lying on the desk.

I'm too tired to do all that now. I'll just do it in the morning. Granite thought. As a reminder, he stacked the important papers on top of everything else on the desk.

Granite got a few crumbs on the desk, so he brushed those away before he called it a night. He stood up and as he trotted away, he realized he’d nearly pushed a paper off the desk. He went to push it back into place then froze as he realized what the paper was.

His unfinished letter.

“Shoot! They’re going to freak out if I don’t write them something!” he cried. He immediately sat down and racked his brain for acceptable words.

I can’t just make stuff up, they’ll know! he thought as he bounced the pencil back and forth between his hooves. I can talk about my garden and things like that, but they’ll want to know how I’m doing. I don’t know what to say.

Adapting. one of the ponies in the room suggested.

“Yes, that could work!” Granite exclaimed, relieved. “This moving process has been an adjustment. I’ve certainly had to ‘adapt’ to a lot of new things. It’s perfect!”

Dear Mother and Father,

What can I say? A lot of things have changed. I'm managing my own house, my own bills, and my business in my own backyard. It is something I am learning to adapt to. This new chapter in my life will require a lot of adapting. That's all I can really say at the moment.

Mom, how's the coloring book business? If you are making any new flower coloring books, send me one!

Dad, I hope you're not getting too cold up in the mountains. I also hope the ice business won't slow down too much this coming winter.

Love you guys!

- Granite

"It'll be fine." Granite assured himself. "Once I figure all this out, there won't be any need to worry. I'll have my answers and then I can go back to normal."

Unfriendly Reminder

Granite sat up in a daze, unsure of what to do as he woke up. He lay motionless in his bed, finding little motivation to move. He knew he would need to prepare his garden soon so he could begin his at-home floral business. Huffing, he tried to force himself up but found it difficult to lift his body.

The feeling of trepidation from the previous night plagued him still, leaving a numb feeling that coursed throughout his entire body. He felt like the unlucky flowers in the winter, brittle with frostbite. The cold pierced him as if icicles were impaling his body. Granite thought his body would succumb to permafrost and he would never be able to move again.

Get up. Lock yourself away. Let warmth spread on the outside.

Thorns’ sudden speech sent Granite flying out of bed. He nearly hit the wall but was able to stop himself in time.

Ha, ironic! Granite thought. He could move after all. Whatever he had felt previously must have been fear and nerves, he reasoned. Granite shook his legs around, shaking the numbness off as if he was shaking snow off his hide. Strength came back to his hooves and he was able to slowly get up, the floor creaking underneath him as he did.

He stared at the bathroom door as he walked towards it. He knew he would have to go in there for one reason or another. He hoped it wasn’t for the wrong one.

Go in there. Lock the door. Stay until you see red.

Granite’s lip began to tremble. He wanted to resist so badly, but his hooves were beckoning him towards the door. Quickly, before they could take off, he looked down at his right forehoof. He pushed back the fur on it gently. What remained of his scar from years ago was cloaked behind a thick layer of fur. It was nothing more than a thin, pink line, but its memory cut deeper than the scar itself. The longer Granite stared at it, the longer he realized he didn’t have a reason to surrender to Thorns today.

He trotted towards the kitchen, grabbed a cup, and turned on the faucet. Once the cup was full, he went back to his room and grabbed the little orange bottle on his nightstand. He took a couple of small pink pills out and gulped them down with his cup of water.

You aren’t in charge of me today Granite thought as he walked towards the front door.

Granite went around the back of his house to set up his garden. He only gave himself time to shove everything away last night since starting the garden when the moon was out seemed like a waste of time. Now that the sun was out, he drew out his garden tools and his arrangement of potted plants. In order to be methodical, he arranged each tool by order of usage and each plant by flower type. To begin, he started with his shovel and the row of tulips.

Granite began to dig little holes around his yard, making sure each one was big enough to fit each flower but not so big that they brought up a lot of unnecessary dirt. He dug all around the house, arranging the holes into precise rows to flatter the house. Granite then patted each hole to smooth them out. If the flowers were going to go inside them, they ought to feel safe going in. Granite cared deeply for his plants and believed they noticed these little details.

Next, he dug each tulip from its pot and set them carefully into each hole. As he did, he patted each flower gently, stroking the petals as he did. Finally, he located his watering can and filled it up to the top. Thankfully, he did remember to install his hose. Once it was full, he slowly trotted over to the garden and watered each plant gingerly as to not oversaturate any of the flowers. He soon finished his first row and moved on to the next, continuing the process.

As the final drops of water seeped from the can, Granite lay the can down and looked up at the sun. Its position told him that the task had taken all afternoon. He was grateful for this because it left him just enough time to do the last thing he had on his agenda.

Glad my friend Pencil Pouch lives in town still. I haven’t seen her since I planned the move. Maybe I can visit her today he wondered.

Granite wiped the sweat from his forehead and prepared to gather up all of his supplies and put them—neatly this time—back where they belonged. Before he did, he whispered sweetly to his garden,

“You’re going to be okay today. I know you can be strong while I’m gone,”

Granite’s current mission was to find his friend’s address. Thankfully, Sire’s Hollow is not a huge town. The residents were also very forgiving when Granite knocked on the wrong houses numerous times, unlike the ponies in the various cities he’s had to travel to for work.

It wasn’t until a suave unicorn pointed Granite towards the house next door that he found Pencil’s address. As he walked up, his ears folded slightly and his face struggled to create a normal expression. Despite knowing each other for years, Granite still felt nervous speaking to her. The main factor, he decided, is that he had opened up to Pencil so much over the years that Thorns had taken a particularly strong disliking to her.

Granite eventually gained the courage to knock on the door once he pushed his nerves to the back of his mind. He tapped his hoof a bit and waited. Gradually, the door began to creak open.

“Granite! Hi! Did you finally unpack?” Pencil said, smirking at the last part.

“Yes I unpacked!” Granite cried playfully.

“Good, cause I wanna see the house!”

“You can see it when you give me your address. I had to ask all around to get here,”

“Oh...yeah, right. Sorry about that. This is the first time we’ve hung out somewhere that isn’t public, so that never occurred to me,”

“But now we’re both independent adults! Took me long enough!”

“You had your reasons, and you’re only twenty-two! Hey, since we’re talking about houses, why don’t you come in and see mine?”

“Sounds great!”

Pencil Pouch opened the door wide enough to let Granite in then locked it behind them with her magic.

“Here we are!” Pencil exclaimed, waving her hoof around for effect.

Granite pivoted his head, immersing himself in the design of the house. The layout was rather simple at first glance, but it soon took him by surprise when he noticed all the details. Art supplies were scattered in a meticulous way and the decorations were arranged in a way that appeared minimalist from far away. At a closer glance, Granite noticed how complex the rooms of the house really were. He felt it complimented his friend’s personality well. He turned and smiled at her, letting her know he admired her house.

Pencil Pouch smiled back, then led Granite Rose into the kitchen. She magically pulled out a chair for him and led him to his seat. Politely, Granite sat down, scooting around to make sure he wouldn’t fall off. Pencil left and proceeded towards the kitchen island, collecting various items with her horn. Many of them began to slip out of her grasp which caused her distressed. Attentively, she set some of the things down once she rediscovered her own strength.

When she trotted back towards the dining area, she set down what she had been able to carry onto the table. She had brought with her a deck of cards, two glasses of water, and a small plate of cookies.

“Were you going to bring a whole meal over before you almost dropped everything?” Granite remarked.

Pencil blushed but kept the smile on her face. She replied hesitantly,

“Well, yes. A-actually, it was more like a ton of snacks meant to make up a meal! I-I know you don’t like to eat much, so I tried not to go and cook anything,”

“That’s nice of you, but I think these cookies are plenty. We can always eat the snacks tomorrow—u-unless you want them!” Granite responded.

“Oh, thank Luna, I’m starving! Hold on!” Pencil yelled as she scurried back towards the island.

Granite chuckled softly to himself. He always thought it humorous that Pencil could eat for ages just for the sake of it and he couldn’t eat more than a few bites in one sitting. He supposed taking a pill each time he visited her contributed to that.

Pencil Pouch returned with an armanda of different snacks. She brought with her bags of chips, pretzels, candies, and even a couple of apples, just to have something healthy. Pencil threw all of her snacks out onto the table. She almost started digging through them when Granite said,

“How are we going to put the cards on the table?”

Pencil looked up, grabbed the snacks in a hoarding fashion, then replied,

“There, you have that whole part of the table to yourself. I’m just gonna use magic to hold the cards,”

Granite chuckled once more, then began to open the deck of cards up. He attempted to shuffle, but ended up flinging some of the cards across the room. He frantically ran across the room to pick them up as Pencil began to laugh. When Granite sat back down, he joined in the laughter, tittering at his situation. The two ponies were laughing so hard that they could scarcely breathe, but neither pony seemed to care. The two only stopped when their stomaches began to knot up. Once they were finished acting like little foals, they picked up their cards and began to play.

“So, how does it feel being independent for the first time?” Pencil asked as she hoofed her deck over to Granite to select a card.

“Well, other than Thorns being more persistent, it’s been okay,” Granite murmured. He quickly looked behind himself to check if Thorns was there. Sure enough, he was, staring very impatiently at him and Pencil. Granite turned back around to prevent provoking him further. When he turned around he noticed Pencil had her deck ready for him. Very slowly, he selected a card, careful not to touch Pencil by mistake. He stuck it inside of his deck quickly, trying to hide the disdain on his face upon realizing he chose a bad card.

Pencil gave a sympathetic smile in response to what he had said. She then added,

“How’s your garden business going? Did you sell anything yet?”

“No, I just started setting it up. How about your art business?” Granite inquired as he held out his deck for Pencil to take her turn.

“I’ve sold a few things here and there. Nothing noteworthy but I’m making a decent living. Oh, do you wanna see some of it?” Pencil cried cheerfully, taking a card from Granite’s deck.

“Sure!” Granite exclaimed. He frowned to himself once she wasn’t looking, annoyed at the fact that he still had the bad card.

As soon as she left, fear began to trickle into Granite’s subconsciousness. He fidgeted around in his seat, suddenly extremely uncomfortable with it. He anxiously jumped out of it and trotted around. He tried many different ways to calm himself down; taking deep breaths, shaking his head around, walking with slower steps. Each method was only a temporary relief from the menace whispering to him.

Leave this house. Hide where it’s safe. Carve out your pain.

Granite’s heart rate increased, sending adrenaline all throughout his body. His hooves began to quake, desperate for more movement. Granite thought of running but not where he would run to. It didn’t matter where he ran as long as he ran away.

I can’t be here! This was such a bad mistake! She could take me away! Granite thought.

The familiar ideology he’d had since foalhood came back to him: Other ponies were after him to put him back into a mental ward.

He would be locked up, but not to save him from himself. No, he would be imprisoned for experimentation. Doctors would extract every particle from him, erasing the essence of his physical being. Then they would attack his mind, sending a multitude of waves and electric signals through it until his memories were zapped out of existence.

Even if Granite were to escape the fate of a lab rat, those he trusted would turn on him. They would tell others of his condition. Of Thorns. Of the knives. They wouldn’t see him as a victim. They would see him as a threat. To society. To the world.

The overwhelming agony of these thoughts overwhelmed Granite Rose. Suddenly his head began to spin. It spun so fast that the wall lamp above him was flashing sporadically. The lights began to blind him, so he forced his eyes shut to protect them. Granite lightly waved his left hoof around in an attempt to relocate his seat. He was unable to find it, so he collapsed on the floor. When he fell, his head made a small thump, causing it to hurt even more. He began to sob uncontrollably, his tears stinging his face. Granite curled into a ball, hoping the action would hide his pain and insecurity.

Pencil Pouch returned with a few canvases en tow. She hummed a little tune as she trotted back into the kitchen. She set down each piece carefully, making sure she didn’t drop it all like she did with the food.

“Okay, I brought out some paintings I thought you might...Granite? Where’d you go?” Pencil asked confusedly.

She peered above the table and saw nothing at first. When she walked closer to Granite’s side, she noticed a small grey heap on the floor. Worriedly, she headed over and cried,

“Granite! Granite, you okay? What happened!”

Granite couldn’t bear to look Pencil in the eyes. He didn’t know what to say to her right now, especially with Thorns standing over top of them.

Leave her house. Find a safe space. Let pain leave freely.

Granite wanted to follow Thorns’ instructions like a sheep following its shepherd, but the wolf in front of him was too big of a problem to disregard. Ignoring the shepherd’s calling, Granite cried out to the wolf.

“P-Pencil, please don’t take me away! Please, please don’t take me away! I don’t wanna go back!”

Pencil merely shushed him and cradled him in her arms.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay Granite. I won’t take you away, I promise. Shh,”

Granite continued to sob and shake. Part of him wanted to wriggle out of her embrace, but another part found it comforting. Granite tried to repress his sobs but found himself lapsing into choking fits. Steadily, he fought to recapture his breath and let warm tears stream down his face and onto his hooves. Pencil lightly patted him on the head as he continued to cry. She held him for a while as he slowly began to compose himself. Faintly, Granite looked up at Pencil and saw a caring friend, not a harsh interrogator. She wasn’t here to expose him. Perhaps, Pencil was the shepherd and Thorns was the wolf. Sometimes he couldn’t tell.

Granite Rose pushed himself up once he was finished and did his best to wipe his face off. He hid himself off to the side out of embarrassment. He didn’t want Pencil Pouch or Thorns to see him in this state anymore. He began to walk out when Pencil interjected,

“Granite, wait! What happened? What did Thorns say?”

“Shh! He’s right there!” Granite hissed. He pointed to the far end of the table indicating where Thorns was, then remembered Pencil couldn’t see him. Sheepishly, he put his hoof down and glanced away from Thorns’ direction.

“Sorry! Well, if it’s gonna bother you, I won’t make you talk about him. But don’t be scared to talk to me, okay? I-I’m just worried. Your episodes haven’t been this bad for a long time,” Pencil expressed with a concerned look drawn upon her face.

“I know. He’s been acting stranger than normal ever since I moved out,” Granite figured.

“I’m sorry. Maybe it’s because of me, too. I’m a threat to him since I’m your best friend,” Pencil replied guiltily.

“That’s not your fault. M-Maybe it’s just—Granite let out a loud sigh—just me. I’m sorry you had to see me like this. I really tried to get rid of him. I took a pill right before I came here!”

“No, no, it’s okay! I know you really tried, you always do! You should probably get home and rest, though. Give your head a rest,” Pencil comforted.

“Okay, I will.” Granite agreed. He had nearly made it out the door but stopped short. He turned around and said,

“Bye, Penc! See you next week?”

“Sure!” Pencil said, smiling.

With that, Granite opened the front door and trotted back home, making sure to get directions as he left the neighborhood.

He arrived back home just in time to give his plants one last watering session before he turned in for the night. He went around the back to grab all of his supplies. Granite returned with his tools and began watering each flower, gently stroking each one as he did so.

When every flower was taken care of, he spoke to them collectively.

“I hope you all had an easier day than I had,” he spoke sweetly as he headed inside the house.

Granite rummaged around the kitchen for anything he could make a small meal with. He was in the mood for a sandwich, so he gathered a few vegetables and a loaf of bread. He wasn’t sure which type of sandwich to make yet, so he decided to get the rest of the materials out while he thought of what to make. He trotted over to a drawer near his sink and opened it, revealing a vast array of kitchen knives.

Granite felt a strong chill go down his spine. He was extremely afraid of knives ever since his ‘incident’ as a child. He was always afraid of what he would do with them.

He stared at them longer, thinking back to the afternoon. As he was thinking, Thorns stood there with him with a curious look on his face. He craned his neck around Granite as much as he could to get a better look at what Granite was doing. Granite grumbled under his breath. If Thorns was going to be as bad tomorrow as he was today, Granite would definitely need an ‘alternate method’ to get rid of him. It was only going to happen once, it wouldn’t-

Slam!

“No, no!” Granite screamed.

Granite slammed the knife drawer shut with full force. If there was going to be any sort of ‘alternate method’, it would not be with the contents of that drawer! Allowing such a sick thought to enter his mind made him mad. Angrily, Granite stomped upstairs to his room to sleep, ignoring what would have been his dinner sprawled out on the counter.