I Am Alone

My eyelids were heavy. With much more effort than was needed, I opened my eyes. Only to be met with a plain white ceiling and plain white walls, trailing my eyes downward begot much of the same, white sheets and blanket. I guess this means someone got me to a hospital.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Funny how nearly a full year ago I killed myself, now I was glad to be alive. Even if only a bit. Besides, the single thought of being reborn again into a worse world kept most of my suicidal thoughts and tendencies at bay.

I'd been able to deal with my gender and body dysphoria for some time. Just out of necessity's sake, for survival. I feared however, that as soon as a nurse came through the door and started asking me personal questions it'd all come crashing back to me.

Before I stressed myself out further I looked down at my arm…or rather, fetlock (horse anatomy is stupid), to see an intravenous cannula inserted in the middle of the bend.

Oh fuck. What've they given me? I panicked. My panic only managed to spike the heart rate monitor into a frenzy, it being previously silent, which then only succeeded in having my fear come to fruition when a concerned looking nurse pony came into my room.

Her eyes read full of worry for me, but maybe some relief that I'd finally awoken. I was never an expert in human body language in relation to the expressed emotions, ponies were no different.

She introduced herself as Helping Hoof, a student nurse. From a brief glimpse I noticed she had some kind of tattoo on her posterior, although not wanting to be caught staring at her ass I averted my eyes upward. There was one nurse pony in the background with a notepad, and another that hovered over Helping’s shoulder, supervisors I assumed, considering she was a student nurse. If hospitals here operated about the same as home.

A kind expression adorned her face. Her colours were unlike the usually bright and vibrant ones I'd seen from afar. Tan beige with a brown coloured mane.

Trotting over to my side, she reset the monitor and laid a comforting foreleg on my cheek. When she took out a needleless syringe, instead having a thread to screw into the IVC, with a clear substance within, only then did my panic resurface.

Noticing my fearful eyes, Helping Hoof hesitated, "What's the matter, sweetie?"

Momentarily ignoring her condescending tone I pointed to the syringe and tried my best to formulate a coherent sentence, "Wha' tha'?" Those hard syllables were still causing me trouble.

Before she could access the cannula attached to my fetlock, the nurse closest to Helping cleared their throat and whispered to her, she’d done something wrong.

Righting herself from a seemingly obvious mistake, Helping released the cannula and leant back to explain, "It's called morphine, it'll make the pain go aw–"

"No!" I cut her off. Surprising both of us and the other two onlookers.

I shouldn't have yelled like that, this is a hospital. I was waiting for a response, but so was Helping. She shifted eye contact to her supervisors who motioned for her to continue.

"Mo'phine, awwe'gy." I continued weakly, I needed to get across the fact that I was allergic, despite my speech impediment. I'd spoken all of a couple words in a year. I still couldn't refrain from cringing anytime I tried to pronounce the letter 'L'.

Now I wasn't sure if pony medical physiology was different but I wasn't taking any chances. Even though my human memories were fading fast, the knowledge that I had a serious reaction towards morphine and other opiates remained.

I could see the heartache in her eyes, whether that was because of my voice or because she didn't believe me was anyone's guess.

Having already released the cannula, she put down the syringe from her… horse grip. Which I had no idea how worked but I mentally shelved the questions for later.

Picking up the clipboard at the foot of my bed with what I assumed to be my medical charts on, Helping held a pencil in her mouth and made an amendment to my chart.

"That's a very grown up thing to remember," she praised.

I knew she didn't mean to be condescending but I couldn't help but grind my teeth. I managed to grimace a smile and nodded.

"Paracetamol and ibuprofen it is then." She smiled before leaving the room. Seemingly to get the aforementioned medication.

I gave a nod and watched her go, taking the moment to view her tattoo or emblem. Which seemed to be a syringe. A comically large needleless syringe with a heart on it. Strange. Her supervisors followed her out closely behind, speaking amongst themselves regarding the student nurse.

Waiting an extra couple of seconds after Helping left, I scrambled out of my covers as best that my small limbs could and moved to grab my chart. Something that the student nurse had forgotten to put back and instead left it at that end of my bed.

Reaching out, my foreleg was still connected to the intravenous and with a little tug and a wince of pain, I tried to reach out with my good back leg and drag it back to me. A method that was more successful.

An attempt was made to hold the clipboard like the nurse held the syringe, but with no luck I simply left it face up on the bed.

These weren't words on the page. More like strange symbols and squiggles. Some seemed to follow a structure.

My old human memories resurfaced a bit, I used to love pattern searching and puzzles. That's all this was, a big puzzle. My overly analytical mind went to work.

Isolate the most used letter. Count its instances. Substitute some of these, work out what were vowels. By sheer coincidence, these symbols seemed to follow the rules of the English language, and most letters matched up with things I would usually assume to be on a medical chart.

Name and gender were there. Gender was one letter, I assumed it'd be 'F' for female, but as a pony it could also mean 'M' for mare. Confusing. Seems they also filled in the name section for me.

G-R-E-something else.

Wait, I saw that four letter word somewhere else in the next column. Five symbols, four unrecognised, two duplicates. Color? American spelling it seemed.

Grey.

They named me what my colour was.

Before I could ponder more and try to decipher what a phrase in parentheses next to my name meant, I heard hoofsteps approaching.

I tossed the clipboard back to the end of the bed and tried to shuffle back under the covers. Only managing to get halfway in, however.

Helping Hoof entered the room, followed by another pony. A stallion judging by his broader build and squarer face. The expression on his face was stern but caring, meanwhile Helping's displayed a measure of chastisement.

He was a unicorn, by the horn on his forehead that much was obvious. Sticking through his dark grayish tangelo hair, I was only partially surprised when a cyan aura emitting from his horn picked up my chart and brought it closer to him. His light amber coat was half covered by an actual coat.

This observation shocked me. I thought clothes weren't a thing, because of fur. Was this town some kind of fucked up nudist colony that even extended to children? Disgusting.

Helping was naked this whole time.

I've been naked this whole year. Only because I didn't know what kind of societal rules existed. I immediately covered my chest, pointless as it was.

"Wan' c-c-cwofes." I managed to stutter.

The doctor took a moment to mentally decipher what I'd said, "You want clothes?" He reiterated, at my insistent nodding he turned to Helping and whispered something I couldn't quite make out.

She nodded and took her leave, hopefully to get me something to wear. While the doctor approached the end of my bed, he introduced himself as Doctor Horse. Fitting but also hilarious.

"Now you're one lucky filly," he started, going through my chart, "multiple lacerations and a few splinters from a nasty Timberwolf. Timberwolves have a special paralysing enzyme in their saliva, sounds like somepony found you just in time."

I couldn't help but stare at the doctor, they were literally called Timberwolves. Can't believe I couldn't think of that. Also, somepony? Some other things he said went in one ear and out the other.

"Now I apologise for Helping, we have a code of conduct we follow here and she’s still learning."

Why was he telling me this? I shrugged in response.

"I am going to go through some questions that Helping should have. These are just to determine your orientation."

Again I was confused, but let him continue.

"Can you tell me your name?" He asked.

I had to speak. Terrific. Didn't he realise how bad I was.

With a quick second glance at the clipboard, I resolved myself and managed to stutter out, "...Gw…Gwey?…" Not really sure of my own answer.

True it wasn't my actual name, but I didn't really know my name anymore, either way it wouldn't apply. That was my human name, now obsolete.

With a raised eyebrow, the doctor didn't look convinced however. Must have seen my eyes wandering to my chart.

I fumbled trying to think of another name. I rubbed my cheek with my hoof. Pausing as I felt the scar. Nick. That was a human name. Who's to say it was mine or not.

"N-n-ni-ni…" pathetic, I had to adapt. So I did the only thing I could think of. Point at the scar that ran from my left cheek up to under my eye and say, "N-name."

After a confused pause, the doctor seemed to get the idea.

"Scar?"

With a shake of my head, the doctor tried again.

"Scratch?"

No, I bit my tongue to stop a childish whine from coming out.

Eventually, "Nick?" He got it. I nodded ververently, so much so I thought my head might pop off.

He quickly made an amendment on my papers. I wondered silently, if I'd need to provide a second name. My internal question was then answered.

"Family name?" Doctor Horse queried.

I didn't have one. So I said nothing.

Another amendment, "We'll just leave that as 'Grey' shall we."

Oh, cool. I have a full name… I guess. Nick Grey sounds very human though. Surmising that calling me by my colour was like the John and Jane Doe situation in the human world.

"Grey Nick," the doctor addressed me.

Nevermind.

"Do you know today's date?"

A shake of the head led to another scribble.

"Do you know where you are?"

No. Scribble.

On and on these mundane questions went. I was getting bored. The more questions I answered 'no' to, the more questions he'd ask.

Eventually the good doctor put away his pen and clipboard. He took out his fob watch to check the time and then glanced at the door. Seemingly right on time, Helping Hoof walked through the door. With my pain medication and a bundle of fabrics I hoped were clothes.

Making dumb stupid grabby motions with my fetlocks beckoned Helping over to me. True to her name she then helped me into the clothes, which was only an oversized hoodie. Probably from lost and found. I didn't mind, it was comfy and now everything was covered enough for my liking.

I subconsciously pulled the sleeves further down my forelegs. Something the doctor noticed but didn't say anything about… for now.

At that moment, I really wished my injuries and scars from my previous life didn't appear on this body. All it's gonna do it's invite more questions than I have answers. Of course, I could always act selectively mute, an option that can be successfully undertaken. They already know how bad my vocabulary and articulation is.

Breaking the silence was the biggest yawn I didn't know I was capable of. Doctor Horse and Helping seemed to get the message after that.

Something in the doctor's look changed though, I panicked that he'd seen my teeth and haphazardly covered them. Not too much effect though.

"Now you get some rest Grey, we'll be back around later." The doctor smiled, finishing up his observations.

I just gave a tired nod and tried to get comfy in the hospital bed. An impossible task with the intravenous still connected. At least the heart rate monitor lead was off my fetlock. Helping waited a bit watching me struggle before coming over and assisting.

She propped a pillow up behind my head and even tucked me in. Such kindness I had not experienced in too long. My stupid child brain took these memories as a sign to start crying. Tears welled in my eyes but didn't fall, I was too well trained from my time as an emotionally distant adult male.

Before Helping could fuss over me more and ask what was wrong, I simply waved her away. I didn't want ponies to be scared of me. I was a freak.

With her back turned, I mumbled, "Fan' yew."

I could feel her kindhearted warm smile radiating towards me, before she left.

I was alone again.

They said they'd come back, they're gonna have more questions than I can answer, I just know it.

Even with all these ponies around, concerned for my wellbeing and ready to assist, I felt more alone now more than ever.