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(Shorter chapters are easier to manage.)

Chapter 5: I Don't Even.

ARGH. What do I do now? I have seriously bucked everything up. I could throw myself out the window but that would do no good. I could drink myself stupid but I would only end up in a worse state. How am I going to fix this? Can I even fix it? Buck, I didn't mean for it to go that far, I just lost it, I may as well quit everything and go home. I'm probably going to get kicked off the tour anyway, my performance was not 'that' good. Shit, the concert is the least of my worries. Focus Skye.

I gathered what was left of my dignity and picked myself off the hotel room floor, my fur stinging from the glass bottle I had broken against myself earlier and proceeded to roll around in; not my best idea. Small droplets of crimson life seeped though the cracks in my skin, channelling themselves down recesses in my tattered coat. I could taste iron and guilt. Anxiety boiled in my brain, trying to escape in the form of a scream. I could only move in the way of a limp as a small shard had lodged itself below my right kneecap, served me right for kicking Vinyl's. I just felt utterly hopeless, pathetic and self destructive.

“Holy Shit.” Twilight burst through the door shouting.

“Knocking is always nice.” I choked on a suppressed emotion that I wished to be gone.

“Octavia is awake and she is pissed.” Again, the librarian spoke out of character, putting aside manners in exchange for full panic.

“Shit.” The thought of a never-ending night of pain depressed me more than anything.

“Vinyl is bawling her eyes out. Princess Celestia heard about what you did. She and Princess Luna  are on their way.” Breathing heavier and pausing between words, Twilight locked her eyes towards mine. “You have bucked up big time Skye.”

Carefully avoiding any remaining sharp objects, I rushed to the door, overcoming the limp my body ached for.

“You're running? You can't! The Princess is going to be furious already.” Miss Sparkle latched onto my shoulder, trying to hold me back.

“It's not her I’m particularly worried about.” My hoof collapsed under its own weight for a second, knocking me into the corridor wall and onto my side. I could swear I heard a crack.”

Time slowed as I took note of the situation around me, one clear corridor behind and one grey demon to the front. Scraping myself in the process of returning to my feet, the grey mare kicked me back down to the carpeted floor, adding a stamp on the head for good measure.

“Hello down there.” Octavia's irises were shrunk around her pinprick pupil, her intonation terrified me to the core.

“How's it going?” I shuddered.

Octavia produced an empty wine bottle waving it above her head as she circled my body, I was too frightened to move. Her hoof steps were but a fraction of the speed of my thumping heart. Adrenaline meant for flight remained unused, causing my for-hooves to shake uncontrollably. I could smell the hate resonating from the cellist, it poisoned the deepest recesses of my mind.

“Could be better.” Octavia's calmness was disturbing.

“Oh?” The floor around me shook as the pacing sped up.

“So you had a little fight with Vinyl? Tell me about it.” The musician ran her glass wine-bottle up my spine, forcing the hairs along my coat to stand up on end and a weak whimper to escape my lips.

“This is so uncomfortable.” I laughed in the face of death, expecting but a punch.

The glass bottle fell upon my head, shattering and concussing immediately upon impact. The force of the blow almost rendered me unconscious, fear was the only factor keeping me awake. Fragments tore though my ear and fell into my mane, the pain astonishingly minor, I felt no different than when I left the hotel room, maybe even better. I was in shock, obviously. Small spots of blood stained the wallpaper, painting a contrast of gold and red. More liquid drained into my eyes, I instinctively rubbed them.

“Defending yourself? Fine.” Octavia raised the broken glass handle, seeing my hooves raised against my head.

“Bloody hay Octavia, Calm down.” I mumbled past my dulled sense of everything, massaging my temples in another sudden bout of tiredness.

The second blow swiftly fell when I lowed my hands to catch my failing balance, the razor sharp spear points of the shattered handle plunged deep into my softened skull. From Octavia's immediate recoil, I could tell where she hit was not the intended location. Nevertheless, this time I struggled much less to remain awake, I could feel my body slipping away already. Everything was just so comfortable, I didn't want to ghost away, It felt like I was in my bed during a snowy day. The faint screaming in my ear was a little off-putting, I ignored it the best I could.

Time had passed, the air was different. It was cold here, smelling of alcohol and body odour. That sleep was the best I had experienced in years, the bed was comfortable too. A dream? Thank the goddesses, I knew that Octavia couldn't be that sadistic, to kill me. Although, I could feel a throbbing stinging sensation on my face, where my eyes were. I could smell perfectly, unfortunately nonce of the scents were pleasant. My hearing was still a bit off from the concert and my sense of taste was perfect. My eyes however, were refusing to cooperate.

“Octy, he's awake.” I heard the distinct voice of DJ-Pon-3 and a set of tapping hooves.

“I wasn't dreaming was I?” I strained my eyelids to move, they were complying, but something was wrong.

“No Skye.” The DJ wrapped her hooves around my chest, sniffling.

“What's going on?” My predicament was becoming a worry.

“Nothing.” Vinyl replied quickly and nervously.

“I can't bucking see can I? WHAT DID YOU DO?” I reached panic mode.

“IT WASN'T ME! I SWEAR!” The usually strong white mare broke down in tears for a second time this evening.