Chapter III

Cheerilee’s eyes were closed. She tried to focus on something, anything. Instead a persistent ticking noise kept penetrating her ears, smashing her attempts at ignoring it. She opened her eyes to look at the Newton’s cradle on the desk in front of her that she had come to regard as her arch nemesis.

For the past four years Cheerilee was obligated to visit a prison psychiatrist once a month. Case Study was a decent therapist, and not unpleasant to speak to. Over the years Cheerilee had become frustrated with the constant visits, however. She had had several therapists by now, of which Case Study had definitely lasted the longest . The others lasted but a few sessions before they referred her to a colleague. Cheerilee was honestly beginning to think they would run out of therapists at some point.

This would be her eighth session with Case Study, which was double the amount of most of the other therapists, and it wasn’t looking like he would give up. Every session was the same. He would ask her how she was feeling, she would say she was fine. He would then ask if she was sure, and she would reply she was. Then he would do some tests to determine her mental health, like Rorschach pictures. Then, at the end, he would ask if she was really sure that she didn’t want to talk about anything, before she would leave. She doubted today was going to be any different.

Cheerilee let out a heavy sigh, looking around the therapist’s office. It was sparsely decorated, little more than a bookcase with scientific books and journals on psychology, a file cabinet and a desk. And, of course, the Newton’s cradle. Cheerilee’s mouth curled downwards as her eyes fell on the Celestia-damned contraption once more. With a huff she rose from her chair and used her hooves to silence the device, sitting down again with a smug grin.

“Good morning, Cheerilee,” a voice came from behind. Case Study walked around her to take place on the other side of the desk in front of her. He had an off-white coat with a teal mane, and a pendulum for a cutiemark. Cheerilee always suspected he was rather old, from the streaks of gray in his mane and the wrinkles that were forming on his face. His stance and voice threw her off, however. He had a youthful gait, and a voice that lacked the gravel that came with age.

To Cheerilee’s great frustration, the therapist lifted one end of the Newton’s Cradle, triggering the device once more.

“How are you feeling?” Case Study said with a smile. Cheerilee simply rolled her eyes in return.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Cheerilee responded, “can we just get this over with?”

Case Study turned around on his chair, reaching behind him. He opened the drawer of the file cabinet labeled with a ‘C’, digging out Cheerilee’s file and placing it on the desk in front of him. “Do you have anything you’d like to talk about?” he asked.

“No.” Cheerilee responded curtly.

Case Study scribbled something in Cheerilee’s file before speaking. “What about your incident?”

“That was two months ago, doc,” Cheerilee responded with a frown, “I told you already, I’m over it.” In truth, she still felt afraid when she thought about it. The close friendship she had with Vinyl Scratch and the friends she had made after that had not prevented some of the big players in the prison to take an interest in her. A big brown mare who went by the name of Garrote—whose body was closer to Big Macintosh than any female—had chosen to claim her. Vinyl had warned Cheerilee about her. She had a life sentence for a triple equicide, and had been in prison for nine years already. Cheerilee had resisted, of course, which had a most unpleasant result.

Case Study frowned. “You were almost raped, Cheerilee,” he said, “there is no shame in admitting that bothers you.”

“I would have been alright,” Cheerilee responded stubbornly.

“You were a sobbing and shivering wreck when we found you, and it took three guards and a stun dart to subdue Garrote.”

Cheerilee frowned. She had been deadly afraid that day, and even though Garrote was kept in isolation for two months, she had been afraid to close her eyes at night in the time that came after, worried that the fiend would grab her. “I’m fine,” Cheerilee concluded with an annoyed sigh. She took a pencil from a cup on Case Study’s desk and absently began to chew on it.

“Very well,” the therapist responded, frowning. He scribbled a few more words in Cheerilee’s file. The room was silent for a moment as he was lost in thought. He raised his eyes, looking directly at Cheerilee. “Let’s see how far we’ve come, then. I want to do some word association. We’ve done this before, you know the drill. I say something, you say whatever pops into your mind first.”

Cheerilee rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

Case Study nodded. “Alright then, let’s begin. House”

“Home,” the purple mare replied with disinterest.

“School”

“Purpose”

“Foal”

“Student”

“Lawyer”

“Scum”

“Garrote”

Cheerilee hesitated at this. She looked up at Case study for a brief moment, before giving her answer. “Avoid.”

Case Study nodded, making a note. He was silent for a moment, letting out a sigh through his nose in thought. When he looked up he locked his eyes with Cheerilee and spoke two words. “Diamond Tiara.”

Cheerilee heard a crack, and the bitter taste of wood and graphite filled her mouth. Her jaw had clamped shut on the pencil she was absently chewing, and her pupils dilated at hearing the name. She calmed down a moment later, only to see Case Study give her a sympathetic smile.

“Low blow, doc,” Cheerilee grunted with a frown, spitting out the remains of the broken pencil.

“I needed to see how you would react.”

“I’m not a foalophile! Never was!,” the purple mare beat her hoof on the armrest of her chair in frustration. Case Study was unfazed.

“It is neither my job nor my place to question court sentences, but from your results so far you are indeed free of foalophilic tendencies. That doesn’t mean there aren’t other traumas that require treatment, though. There is a lot that still troubles you, and needs to be treated before I can legally proclaim you fit for society again.”

“You make me want to hit you,” Cheerilee replied darkly.

Case Study merely chuckled. “I wouldn’t recommend it, I’m a trainer at a dojo in my spare time.”

Cheerilee’s eyes widened, and she looked up. “You’re a trainer?,” she said in a weak voice.

“Mixed martial arts. I do it for the fun rather than the bits,” the therapist responded, not taking his eyes from Cheerilee.

“You teach?,” the purple mare said in an even softer voice, staring at Case Study with a hollow expression.

“Yes,” Case Study simply replied. He stood up from his desk to walk over to Cheerilee. He raised a hoof, placing it on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Cheerilee, for the past eight months that you have been coming here, I have been unable to get you to talk to me. I see that I have finally discovered the root of your troubles, and you need to discuss it. I’m not your enemy. Please, let me help you.”

Cheerilee stared at Case Study for a long time. A thousand thoughts were raging through her head. Memories she thought she had finally left behind were once again at the forefront of her mind. She felt like she could burst into tears the same way she did when she came to prison, and she hated it. After a solid minute, she spoke.

“It’s my talent. My special purpose represented in my cutiemark. I was meant to teach, and it has been taken from me. Taken from me by Diamond Tiara. I will never be able to work at a school again.” Her shoulders slumped as she said it. She wasn’t sure what to feel. She had thought about this fact before, but she hoped that if she never spoke about it she would forget in time. On one side she felt relieved. She was able to speak her troubled mind in private, to somepony who listened to her and took her seriously. On the other hand it was torture, as she was forced to acknowledge her problems and how much they truly bothered her. She suspected that Vinyl would have listened to her, but it was exactly that pain that prevented Cheerilee from talking. She had never given Vinyl any reason to suspect anything, so the DJ had never asked.

“I won’t lie,” Case Study spoke in a matter of fact, but soft voice, “It won’t matter if I declare you mentally healthy, you will more than likely never work with children again. This is something you are going to have to come to terms with. But this doesn’t mean you can’t be a teacher. There are more ways to teach than just a schoolhouse, after all,” Though she didn’t want to hear the words, Cheerilee couldn’t help but appreciate the therapist’s honesty.

“How?,” she asked shakily.

“I don’t know,” came the reply, “but I will help you find out. We’ll get you through this.”

Cheerilee nodded her head in response. She let out a deep sigh. “Thank you, doc. I guess it had to come out at some point.”

“I’m glad it finally did. I think we can leave it at that for today. We’ve made a lot of progress.”

“D-do you think we can have our next meeting a little earlier than usual?,” Cheerilee asked hesitantly, her tone hopeful. Case Study merely smiled in return.

“Of course. How about two weeks from now?”

The purple mare smiled, nodding her head. “Sounds good. See you then.” She got to her hooves and began moving towards the office’s exit. Before moving out she briefly stopped in her tracks, turning her head with a slight grin. “I really hate that thing on your desk, though.”

Cheerilee spent the next hour in the library, trying to focus on the book in front of her. She felt worried now that she had decided to open up about her troubles, not just to Case Study, but to herself as well. She had been happy to avoid and repress them in the past, but was forced to confront them now. She had to think about what she was going to do with her life in this new situation.

She noticed somepony taking a seat next to her, sitting rather close. She raised her head to look at the newcomer and found a pair of lips pressed against hers. She wasn’t romantically involved with Vinyl Scratch, they were both clear on that. That didn’t mean they couldn’t share a kiss every once in a while, when the guards weren’t looking. Prison life can get very lonely, after all. They had also decided that after the event with Garrote two months ago, Cheerilee could use a little extra tagging. Vinyl had been the reason her life in prison was bearable, especially when it came to keeping the reason for her imprisonment under wraps. Together they had spread countless of rumors of her crimes, making sure they were all plausible. Nopony was sure of the truth.

“Hey, Cheers,” the white mare spoke in a voice that was far too loud for a library. She raised a comforting hoof to Cheerilee’s shoulder before continuing in a softer tone. “Something’s bothering you. Did the shrink finally get into your head?” Vinyl emphasized her point by lightly tapping on her own noggin.

“It’s alright,” the purple mare responded, “I was just hit in the face with a dose of reality.”

“Want to talk about it?,” the DJ asked. It wasn’t just out of courtesy, Cheerilee knew that Vinyl was genuinely interested. She was about to say she was fine, but changed her mind. She was going to have to deal with her problems, and with Vinyl's offer she wouldn't have to do it all by herself.

“I’ll never work at a school again,” she spoke, “It won’t matter if I have served my sentence or if a thousand therapists declared me healthy, I won’t be trusted. Teaching is my special purpose. My passion. I’m worried that I never will again.”

Vinyl was quiet for a moment. The white mare’s eyes fell on the book in front of Cheerilee. “Then teach me,” she spoke after a while.

“Teach you? What do you-,” Cheerilee replied.

“Yeah. I mean, you don’t have to be a foal to learn. And you’ve been spending so much time in this library, I’m sure you can tell me a thing or two that I don’t know.” Vinyl was grinning widely at her own idea, which affected Cheerilee. She chuckled.

“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” Cheerilee said after a while, “I mean, what do you want to know about?”

“Why don’t you start with that?” Vinyl pointed towards the book in front of her friend.

The purple mare arched an eyebrow. “History? Are you sure?”

Vinyl cringed for a moment, but quickly recovered her enthusiastic grin. “Positive.”

Cheerilee smiled and began to speak. She wove tales from the past, explaining politics and customs in pre-classical Equestria. She spoke of the exploits of notable figures such as Star Swirl the Bearded and Commander Hurricane. She spoke of wars and battles, and of economy. All the while Vinyl was listening carefully. Cheerilee would have thought she was acting, if the DJ hadn’t actually stopped to ask questions once in a while.

As time passed, other inmates began to take an interest in Cheerilee’s stories, taking a seat somewhere nearby. She recognized some friends, as well as some ponies that she had trouble with in the past. By the time they had to leave the library to get dinner and return to their cells, Cheerilee had gathered quite the crowd. It was almost like a class.

In the mess hall, Cheerilee looked around to see if she spotted any guards. Convinced she was safe, she pulled Vinyl in a hug, resting her head on the other mare’s shoulder. “Thank you, Vinyl,” she said quietly.

She received a smile in return. “It’s okay.”

That night, Cheerilee beamed as she stared at the ceiling of her cell. She couldn’t sleep, not because she was sad or afraid, but because her heart soared. She had been teaching. Case Study had told her that there were other ways to teach. She could almost imagine his I-told-you-so kind of expression. She wouldn’t have minded. She felt better than she had in what seemed like a lifetime.

Author's Note

Happy new year, everyone! Hope you all had a nice holiday. Anyway, the next chapter is already in the works. I'm hoping to have it up at least by next week.