Beep Beep.
Beep Beep.
Beep Bee-
Click.
...
3:45 A.M.
As always.
I’m not even sure if I get tired anymore.
I climb out of bed, and stretch. First my spine, followed by my jaw, then my hindhooves, then my forehoof. The good one, that is.
Then I make my way to the washroom.
3:55 A.M.
I almost scream. Almost.
But I make it all of twenty feet without falling. Or talking. Or screaming. Only tears, today.
They’ll wash away easy enough.
The shower curtains are pulled back, and it only takes a minute to step in.
On goes on the water.
In rushes the pain.
4:06 A.M.
I don’t pass out this time. Definitely a good day.
The shaking will go away soon enough.
Gingerly, I pick up the warm pink towel in my mouth, tongue brushing against its fuzzy hide by way of accident. It tastes just like I expect it to.
I drop it on the floor, and make my way on, accidently biting down on the very tip of my sense of taste as it bumps into the otherwise lovely pink corner. I could live without tasting, today – nopony would notice.
I pick up the rough, blue towel in my mouth. I’m glad I can’t feel the soft bristles it has, wonderful for a light scrub.
I drape it over myself. Calmly. Slowly.
Then I sit down.
4:18 A.M.
And the day was going so well, too.
I suppose I can live with a loud whimper though – after all, nopony would be ashamed of letting out such if they, say, stubbed their hoof.
Simply the day-to-day hassles.
The deed is done, though, and the horrible, abnormal part of me is dry. It takes only a moment to have the rest of my body follow.
I’ve hit the alarm clock. I’ve climbed out of bed. I’ve taken a shower. I’ve dried off.
It’s time to brush my mane.
I smile. I always look forward to brushing my long, silver mane. I stand – careful to avoid falling on the typical, slippery bathroom floor and be curiously absent in the day’s activities – and raise my head to the long, blue brush fastened to the wall.
It’s always nice to move my head back and forth, feeling the plastic tips of the brush gently massage my skull. I could always envy unicorns – they didn’t need to affix the wonderful thing to the wall – yet I find a simple kind of pleasure in doing this sort of thing without the harsh, vibrant glow of telekinesis.
When that is done, all I have to do is grip the hilt in my mouth, swivel around to my tail, and-
…
The brush escapes my grasp, and clatters on the floor.
Click. Clack.
I’m glad I didn’t sleep in.
4:25 A.M.
Tears again.
No matter, I have a pretty yellow towel hanging on the bathroom door, with which I can wipe them away when I get there.
I finish stroking the brush on my silky tail, carefully swivel around, and reconnect the brush to its base on the wall. I smile to the mirror.
Excellent.
I’m done in the bathroom for now.
Now, all that separates me from breakfast is a single flight of stairs.
Easy.
4:39 A.M.
Even taking into account my slip-up in the bathroom, I’m doing well as far as time goes – The bus always comes by at exactly six thirty, which should leave me just enough time to enjoy my food a little.
Not much, but a little.
Jaw still clattering from my descent, I reach up and grip the half-empty box of Oaty Oats from the second shelf. I’m able to coordinate enough to never let my other hoof touch a single surface, even as I prop myself up on the counter to reach that high.
Milk is easy. It’s only two jarring steps to the fridge, and an easy twist to the right for a bowl. Today, I decide to eat without a spoon – just personal preference, nothing more.
The smaller kitchen may not have been the standard option, but I enjoyed it nevertheless. After all, like the Doctor said, less movement was…
…
I finish my tasteless cereal, and set the bowl in the sink.
I’ll wash it when I get back.
I take a look over to the door – my saddlebags are packed. Wonderful.
Now to brush my teeth.
5:13 A.M.
The first rays of dawn are filtering through the near-opaque window in my front door. It’s a beautiful sight – it reminds me of my cutie mark.
A beam of light, striking the land.
A fitting mark for one named Sunbeam.
I close my eyes, soaking in the silent magic of the soundless morning.
Or, rather, my sound-tight house. It wouldn’t be nice forcing the neighbors to rise when I do, with my noisy awakenings.
I open my eyes, and look down at the three-thousand-bit piece of technology lying in the corner.
Even now I’m amazed something so infinitely complex could take the shape and feel of a mere golden pony’s fur-coated left leg.
For just a moment, I observe the patch job to my only real difference. I know that, even now, it is heating up to my body temperature, and will soon be like the rest of me. The smoothness of the hide, the sloping contours of the knee… It’s hard to believe that it is simply a mirror of something I already have.
I line up my imperfection with the hole. The hole that left no room for comfort,
yet showed not a single seam when all was done.
I take a single breath, and press down.
6:15 A.M.
I force my eyes open. I try not to let the tears fall onto my coat.
The trails will dry long before the bus comes.
I climb to all fours. The pain is on pause for eight, perfect hours.
I unlock the door.
I give the world my best smile.
I’m ready to be normal.
Author's Note
You know the drill, I loves me my comments :x
Apologies for being such a downer, I promise I'll write happy soon :O!
EDIT: CURSE YOU WORD COUNTER IT WAS 1000 EVEN IN MICROSOFT WORDDD
EDIT EDIT: OH COME ON STUPID MICROSOFT WORD MESSIN' UP MY FORMAT. NEVER USING YOU AGAIN. >:C
