My life was pretty normal. I went to school, got picked on (affectionately) by my older brother Thunderlane, and just tried to get through the whole thing without looking like a total fool. But things had just gotten strange.
It was all because of a jam.
The morning had been bleary as usual, and I was sitting at the breakfast table with Thunderlane just before we were both due to start off our days. School for me, weather work for him. Thunder had been in the process of smearing several globs of orange marmalade onto his near-burnt toast (his preference). The jam hung off the bread like the little insect eggs that Snails had shown me one time at recess. Each bead jiggling in place, ready to hatch.
Thunder had taken a big bite of his smeared toast, munching on it absently as he told a story about some mishap at work involving a wayward thundercloud, crumbs flying across the table from his yapping mouth. None of that, in particular, was odd, my brother was a rambler and a messy eater so some shrapnel was to be expected, but he preferred strawberry jam.
And he was allergic to oranges.
Citrus allergies were rare amongst ponies — a doctor had told my brother that he was the only one they knew across Canterlot, Cloudsdale, and Ponyville to have it — and he had to take it seriously as he suffered from more than just a skin rash when he came in contact with it. When he had a reaction, he’d seize up, struggle to breathe, and paw at the floorboards while he desperately tried to push air through his swollen throat. It was horrible, I hated it, and it was a memory deeply ingrained into my mind, probably forever.
But, to my genuine shock, nothing happened. Thunder continued to ramble on while taking bites of his egg-infested toast using a preservative I had thought we didn’t even have. It was offputting how easily he ate it, the contrast between what I knew should happen and what was happening. I could only watch in rapt fascination as a dark uneasy pit formed in my stomach.
As Thunderlane consumed his last morsel of toast, he turned a megawatt smile on me. “Hey, Champ. You gonna eat that?” He asked me.
I looked down at my uneaten bowl of oats and felt my stomach heave. Looking back up at my brother, I replied, “No, I don’t really want oats this morning.”
“Oh,” Thunderlane said, frowning as he stared at the full bowl on the table. “Well, sorry, Rumble, but we get out of here. You’ll have to wait until lunch. Unless you want to shovel it all down now.” He chuckled.
“No, it’s—” I hesitated to use the word ‘fine’ since everything wasn’t, “—not a problem. I can wait until later to eat.”
Thunderlane’s frown deepened momentarily before returning to a huge grin. “Whatever you say, Champ! Let’s get going then.”
My brother got out of his chair and then pranced to the door, grabbing his work saddlebags from a nearby rack on his way out. I followed nervously after him, my feeling of wrongness worsening as I slung over my own pair of saddlebags.
As it was every day, it was a busy morning in Ponyville. It was close to the start of the work day for most residents and that meant the stragglers were racing to and fro, trying to reach their destination on time. My brother and I were just as busy, hustling around the gallopers not paying attention to their surroundings. At the intersection of main, Thunderlane stopped me with a proffered wing and a smile that was beginning to unnerve me.
“You can get to school on your own, right, Champ?” Thunderlane asked.
“You’re not going to drop me off?” I said, thrown off by another of Thunderlane’s behaviours that were off that morning.
“You’re really mature for your age, Rumble!” Thunderlane exclaimed too enthusiastically. “You can get to school by yourself now.”
“But you always take me.”
“Look.” Thunderlane stared down at me, his serious tone not matching his chipper expression. “I’m running late this morning and I don’t want to get chewed out by Rainbow Dash over it. So, you’ll have to—”
“Rainbow would get mad at you for running late?” I interrupted incredulously. She was a habitual napper and never on time, which meant she was lax on what time ponies started their shift, so long as they got their work done. “That doesn’t sound—”
Thunderlane interrupted me by placing his wings firmly on my shoulders. He drew himself closer to me, his face drenched in shadow with the sun behind him making me unable to tell what expression he had on his face. “She’s been stricter this week, probably due to getting told off by Mayor Mare. The point—” He hissed out the word, “—is that I need to go. You can get to school on your own?”
Normally, I would protest since I always preferred having my brother around, but his actions were starting to scare me and it was a good excuse to get away from him. “I can do it,” I whispered out.
“Great!” Thunderlane pulled back, smiling widely down at me with shadows receding from his face. “I’ll see you tonight, Champ.”
Before I could reply, Thunderlane galloped off and launched himself into the sky, flapping his wings hard against the ground. I stood in the middle of the street staring after him, the unease from earlier becoming worse. His last sentence hadn’t felt like a friendly goodbye.
It had sounded more like a threat.
I plodded dutifully forward, head swiveling to and fro, trying not to get caught underneath anyone’s hooves. I was on edge from my time with Thunderlane and was wary of anything else happening on my way to school.
A tentative sniff caused me to look in the direction of Sugarcube Corner. The smell of fresh pastries wafted through the open door, inviting me in to take a bite. I resisted temptation and shook my head, pressing ever onwards to my destination. As I did, I ran head first into another pony, causing myself to drop back onto my rump.
“Hey, Rumble!” The pony greeted. “You really should watch where you’re going or you might just end up making someone a grumble.” A spattering of giggle snorts followed, already telling me who I’d run into.
The pony before me was the personification of good cheer. Rounded features, bright pink colouring, and a grin so powerful it could keep Manehattan energized for a full year.
“Sorry, Pinkie,” I replied, ducking my head down. “I was lost in thought and not really looking where I was going.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it, Champ!” She said, lightly smacking me on the shoulder with her hoof.
Wincing at the surprisingly hard smack, I rubbed at my now sore shoulder as I said, “Pinkie, could you not call me that?”
“Call you what?” Pinkie asked with a tilt of her head.
“Champ,” I answered. “My brother is the only one that calls me that and… I prefer it that way.”
“Aw, come on, Champ!” (I winced again, this time in discomfort). “I’m just trying to be friendly!”
“Well, it’s private,” I retorted snappishly. “I don’t like anyone except Thunder calling me that.”
Pinkie frowned, a really ugly thing. It was akin to finding a piece of shaved keratin in a soup you ordered from a five-star restaurant. Unpleasant, out of place, and very uncomfortable.
“Well—” She paused momentarily before her grin came back in full force “—I’ll just keep using it anyways! It’s just some fun between friends and we’re friends! Right, Rumble?”
I could practically hear the unspoken ‘and it’s not like you can stop me’. I was utterly powerless to do so and it made me feel horrible. “Fine, I guess,” I mumbled in response.
“Uh oh!” Pinkie exclaimed, smooshing her face between her hooves, forming a big ‘O’ with her mouth. “Sounds like someone is being mumbly and grumbly!”
Stepping back, I looked at Pinkie with a pained expression. It was what the bullies back in Cloudsdale used to say and it hurt to hear Pinkie of all ponies say that to me. “Pinkie!” I exclaimed. “How could you—”
“You need to turn that frown upside down!” Pinkie threw her hooves in the air, a manic gleam to her expression. “You should never—” (I stepped back as she growled out the word, a severe expression momentarily taking over her face before it returned to its normal cheer) “—be frowny!”
My sense of unease returned in full force at Pinkie’s words, my guts twisting into knots as Pinkie’s off behaviour became more apparent. She was admittedly careless with what she said, but this felt more intentionally mean. Something Pinkie would never do.
An urgent need to get away from her caused me to nervously reply, “Yeah, you’re right, Pinkie. I’ll try to stay positive!” I affixed a nervous grin to my face, backing slowly away from her and towards the schoolhouse, my eyes firmly trained on Pinkie. “Sorry to cut this short, but I do need to get to school.”
Pinkie pouted. “Aw, that’s no fun!” She brightened up as a thought seemed to occur to her. “Hey, since you seem to be in such a grumpy mood, why not come into Sugarcube Corner to grab a snack for the road?”
Cold dread flooded my system as I looked to Sugarcube Corner and noted the lack of customers inside. A twinge of fear shortly followed as I realized that I would be alone with Pinkie in the increasingly foreboding bakery, the sweet scent wafting from the door turning sickly to my senses.
“I’m not really feeling a cupcake today,” I quickly replied.
“You could get a scone! Or a muffin! We have tons of different options. Pick any you like.” She stepped toward me as I stepped back, her grin and eyes now seeming too bright, almost fake. “They were all baked fresh this morning!”
“I have to go now, Pinkie.”
“Come on, Champ! Can I really not interest you in—”
“Thanks for the offer, but I have to go!” I interrupted.
I nearly tripped over my own hooves as I galloped away from Pinkie, so desperate to escape. I never heard her response nor wanted to. I didn’t even dare look back.
Because I was afraid I would see her chasing after me if I did.
I reached the schoolhouse in record time, my wings flapping to give me an extra boost while I galloped. Stopping just short of the entrance, I calmed myself down before trotting into the building and taking my usual seat in the class, ignoring the usual morning greetings as the oddness of the morning made me feel less social. I glanced at the clock at the front of the class and was surprised to see that I had made it with seconds to spare.
The shrill ring of the bell brought the rest of my classmates in as well as our teacher, Ms. Cheerilee. She trotted into the room, bright and cheerful. She was always a huge optimist, which usually grated on my nerves, but on this particularly weird day was wholly welcome.
“Good morning, class!” Cheerilee greeted. “It’s so good to see you all today!”
“Good to see you too, Ms. Cheerilee,” several of my classmates responded in unison.
A familiar feeling of unease roiled inside of me as I looked over the classmates that had responded. Each of them had too wide smiles on their faces, eyes too open, and bodies too rigid. I turned back to the front and took in Cheerilee’s smile which, I now realized with horror, was close to how Pinkie had looked earlier.
“Wonderful students!” Cheerilee said, punctuating every sentence with an overly happy tone. She grabbed a piece of chalk and tapped it against the board at the front of the class. A rhythmic tap, tap, tap. “Now, let’s begin today’s lesson. We’ll be discussing feelings!”
“I thought we were going to do music today?” Sweetie Belle asked, her hoof raised after she had already asked her question.
“We are not,” Cheerilee replied.
There was a long pause as Cheerilee stared at Sweetie, the tap, tap, tap of her chalk still going within the silence. After several seconds of discomfort, the class turned to look at Sweetie, her hoof still raised. Lowering it, she nervously stuttered out, “O-oh, I’m sorry.”
“We will be discussing feelings today!” Cheerilee repeated in a chipper tone, not acknowledging that Sweetie had spoken. “Specifically paranoia!”
I scrunched up my face in displeasure at the word as Cheerilee wrote it out in a clean script on the board. It was… big, and looked weird. Too many odd combinations of letters all squished together with a pronunciation that left a sour tang in my mouth.
“What’s paranoise— paranowe— parabow—” Scootaloo struggled to say.
“Paranoia!” Cheerilee happily finished for her. “It's a feeling that’s all made up!”
“Uh, Ms. Cheerilee?” Apple Bloom asked. “If it’s a feeling that’s all made up, why do we need to learn it?”
“So you know when you’re feeling fake feelings!” Cheerilee answered excitedly. “It’s important to recognize when you’re feeling wrong so you can feel right!”
My unease was growing more and more the longer Cheerilee spoke. It was the same feeling as with Thunderlane and Pinkie Pie. She wasn’t acting how she usually did and her words had a wrongness to them that made me feel uncomfortable.
“Ms. Cheerilee?” Sweetie asked.
“Feeling a sense of unease is not normal!” Cheerilee continued, looking out over the class with her massive grin. “You should always let others know when you have fake feelings so that they can help you not have them anymore!”
“Ms. Cheerilee!” Sweetie shouted, waving her hoof.
“As your teacher, I want to help you—”
“Isn’t it wrong to tell someone how to feel?” Sweetie interrupted. “My sister is always telling me that it’s important to feel whatever you feel so you can channel it into doing what you need to do!”
Cheerilee snapped her head towards Sweetie, her eyes wide, and smile wider still. Sweetie retreated from Cheerilee’s gaze, lowering her body in her seat and staring back nervously. Cheerilee tapped once more on the board with her chalk, the tap, tap, tap seeming to match with the thumping of my adrenaline-fueled heart.
“I see we are not ready to discuss paranoia today,” Cheerilee said, her tone conveying her disappointment. “Some of our class appear to not be ready to learn the concept.” She ceased her tapping on the board and streaked a solid white line across staring at Sweetie all the while. “Everyone, take out your notebooks.
“Today, I will instead explain what gaslighting is and why Sweetie Belle is wrong.”
“Hey, Rumble, wait up!”
I stopped my hurried trek away from the schoolhouse and turned to see Scootaloo coming toward me, shortly followed by her partners in crime Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom.
“What’s up, Scootaloo?” I asked. “And make it quick, please. I really just want to go home.”
“It won’t take long, Rumble,” Apple Bloom said. “We just wanted to see if you thought Cheerilee was acting—”
“Nuts!” Scootaloo interrupted.
“Scoots!” Apple Bloom admonished. “She’s our teacher!”
“And she was acting crazy!” Scootaloo shot back. “What was even with that weird lesson? Why do we need to know about stuff like dread and existent— existoot— exisa—”
“Existentialism,” Sweetie assisted.
“Yeah, that!” Scootaloo said as she pointed a wing towards Sweetie. “That whole class was a bunch of worthless junk! I thought we were supposed to learn things like numbers and words and stuff.”
“Well, we don’t go over just academics,” Sweetie corrected. “Ms. Cheerilee does teach us other topics that we might not need when we’re adults. Like that class we had on gardening last week.”
“I guess,” Scootaloo conceded as she kicked the ground. “But this was weird! She was teaching us things I couldn’t even say.”
“It was weird,” I added, “but not even the weirdest thing that’s happened to me today.”
“Really?” Apple Bloom asked, tilting her head to one side.
“Yeah, my big brother Thunderlane was eating marmalade this morning,” Rumble replied.
“Why’s that weird?” Scootaloo said, scrunching up her face in confusion.
“He’s allergic to citrus.” After seeing the blank explanations from the other three, I continued, “oranges, lemons, and the like.”
“Wait, that doesn’t make any sense,” Apple Bloom said, confused.
“Shouldn’t he be in the hospital?!” Scootaloo exclaimed.
“No, he’s totally fine. Didn’t even cough after eating a whole toast smeared with the stuff.” Rumble shrugged helplessly. “I don’t even know what to do with that.”
“That’s so strange, but now that Rumble mentions it, my sister Rarity did something odd this morning too,” Sweetie remarked thoughtfully. “She was working on a dress and—”
“Sweetie Belle!”
As one, we looked towards the schoolhouse where the voice had called out from. Cheerilee stood in the entryway, a big smile plastered across her face. She beckoned us with a hoof. “Could you come here, please? I need to talk to you in private.”
Sweetie turned back to us, a nervous look on her face. “I don’t want to be alone with Ms. Cheerilee,” she anxiously stated.
“Don’t blame you for not wanting to hang around Ms. Crazy,” Scootaloo replied.
Apple Bloom jabbed Scootaloo in the barrel who groaned at the impact. “What she means is that maybe you should try to tell her you’re feeling sick?”
“I don’t think that’ll work,” Sweetie mumbled, tapping her hooves together as she bit her lip anxiously.
“You could just tell her no,” Scootaloo added as she straightened herself up from Apple Bloom’s jab.
“But if I do that she might fail me!” Sweetie exclaimed. “If I fail, she’ll call Rarity and I’ll get in a lot of trouble!”
“Okay then go in and talk with her. Just be prepared to run if things get uncomfortable,” I placated. “If it gets bad, just bolt through the window or the back door and gallop as hard as you can.”
Sweetie stared owlishly at me for a moment before looking thoughtful. “I could do that. Wouldn’t be the first window I’ve broken. Thanks, Rumble!”
I nodded. “And hey, before you go, could you meet me tomorrow morning at my house to walk to school?”
“W-why?” Sweetie asked, face flushed red.
Unsure of why she was blushing, I continued, “just so I know you’re okay and, if Cheerilee is acting super weird and you make a run for it, going to someone you don’t normally hang out with is safer than going to your two well known best friends.”
“Oh, that’s smart! I’ll do that then.” Sweetie smiled. “If she acts creepy, make a run for it!”
“And sock her in the head!” Scootaloo added.
Another jab from Apple Bloom followed by a double over Scootaloo. “Stay safe, Sweetie.”
Nodding her head excitedly now she had a plan of action, Sweetie ran off towards the school. As she trotted inside, Ms. Cheerilee closed the door behind them, smiling at me and the other two fillies the entire time.
“Hey, Champ, I’m home!”
I glanced up from the couch from where I’d been reading to watch for my brother coming in through the door, considerably calmed down from the day’s earlier weirdness. “Hey, big bro,” I answered.
“What are you up to?” he called back as he entered the living area.
“Just reading some…” I trailed off as I took in my brother’s presence.
It was wrong. All wrong.
My clean freak brother was in complete disarray. My brother, who spent an hour every day grooming his wings and fur, was disheveled with caked grime covering his body. His mane was lopsided as half of it fell out of its usual mohawk and he had a too wide grin on his face.
The same one Ms. Cheerilee and Pinkie Pie had earlier.
“Great!” Thunderlane flopped onto the cushion next to me, his posture bright and attentive. “So, I was thinking that we should go somewhere tonight.”
I nodded hesitantly, too stunned to speak.
“Pinkie Pie is throwing a party at Sugarcube Corner with Cheerilee and has invited the whole town to go,” Thunderlane continued. “It’s supposed to be super fun and I thought we could both go together.”
Nausea I had thought had disappeared came back with a vengeance as my stomach threatened to heave from anxiety. I took a deep gulp. “Um, actually, I’m feeling kind of sick. I don’t think I can go.”
“Don’t be like that, Champ!” Thunderlane waved a wing dismissively. “You look fine. You even said you were just reading when I got in.”
Tension caused my body to stiffen at Thunderlane’s lack of care. Thunderlane went nuts if I so much as coughed, but his nonchalance was jarring. “That doesn’t mean I’m not feeling well.”
“You’re fine, Rumble,” Thunderlane stressed as he rolled his eyes in exasperation. “It’s just one party. You’ll feel great once we get there.”
“I think I’d rather just rest in my room,” I answered.
“Don’t be a wuss, Champ,” Thunderlane hissed out.
Finally reaching my limit, I leaped from my seat and bolted towards the second-floor stairs.
“Come back here, Rumble!” Thunderlane roared angrily after me.
Taking the steps two at a time, I raced up the steps using my wings to give me some leverage. As I stumbled down the corridor towards my bedroom, Thunderlane’s heavy steps thumped behind me.
Swerving through my open bedroom door on the right, I slammed it behind me and shoved a nearby dresser in front of it. It was heavy but some combination of fear and adrenaline gave me the strength to push it forward. Once I had successfully barricaded myself inside, I jumped into my bed, huddled under my blankets, and braced myself for Thunderlane’s inevitable arrival.
Loud thumps in tandem with the beating of my heart emanated from outside my room. The sound stopped for a moment before the rattling of the door knob overtook the silence. It was shortly followed by a frustrated growl, then several heavy impacts against the door. Finally, more loud thumps sounded, receding into silence as Thunderlane presumably left.
Taking a few deep breaths, I tossed off my covers and glanced toward the only other possible source of entry into my room: the open window. Closing the pane, locking the sill, and drawing the curtains, I hoped it would deter my brother from forcing his way inside.
After one more quick inspection to ensure I was secure, I grabbed my stuffed plush thundercloud and huddled within my bed.
I was in for a long night.
“Rumble! Breakfast! Get your lazy flank out of bed!”
I jolted awake at the shout, clutching feebly at my stuffed companion. Swiveling my head rapidly around the room, I took in the closed window and barred door. Everything was as it had been the night before.
“Come on, ya dummy! You’re going to be late for school!”
Tensing at the sound of my brother’s voice, I took some comfort in how it sounded more normal compared to yesterday. It was the right combination of teasing and affectionate my brother liked to do and made me feel like the events of before were all just a dream.
But I still couldn’t shake that too wide smile from my head.
Opening the nearby window, I glided outside and onto the soft grass below. Creeping quietly around the edge of the house, I glanced towards the front door to see if the one I expected was there. To my immense relief, Sweetie Belle stood patiently before the front door, staring up at the door knocker.
“Sweetie!” I called out, racing towards her. “How did everything…”
My initial excitement waned as Sweetie turned toward me. I slowed down to a hesitant crawl as I took in her wide smile that grew even wider as I came closer.
“Hey, Rumble!” Sweetie greeted. “It’s so great to see you this morning. I was talking with Ms. Cheerilee yesterday and found it very informative. After that, I had this great idea and Ms. Cheerilee agreed. I think you’ll super love it too. Do you wanna know what it is?”
“What is it?” I nervously asked.
“You should talk with Ms. Cherilee too.”
