My Mind's Betrayal

Chapters

Violet eyes
Outside
What My Mind Hides
Yesterday
Meeting my demons
Nothing but broken glass

Violet eyes

Haunting Perspective

I take a small drag on my cigarette feeling the burn in the back of my throat. The smoke escapes from my lip swaying and twisting. Sitting on my leather chair staring at her.

“So, tell me about yourself.” I ask.

“What do you want to know?” She responds tilting her head as she lies on my bed with her hooves crossed. “I get kind of audience shy when I’m put on the spot!” She ducks her head and gives an apprehensive smile.

“Something that I don’t know.”

“UH…? What have you read about me?” She asks scratching hear head looking away.

“Only your name. Twilight Sparkle which is a forced compound reference to what is suggested that little girls like: Rainbow, butterflies, unicorns , big white castles with a prince charming. The lies that they are fed.“ I take another drag.

“Wow, you’re kind of a brooding jerk ?” She looks at me blankly.

“Here you are. An illusion of a purple unicorn exchanging words with me. You could imagine why I’m on the offensive.” I tell her.

She appears on the arm of my chair looking around appalled. “This place is so clustered! I could tidy this place up if you’d like? .” Then she’s back next my bed in an instant fixing the bed sheet. “There that’s one task done! Now where-“

“You want to focus on the task at hand her Twilight?” I announce. She embarrassedly grins then trots in front of me and sitting down.

“I know what you are thinking.” She lowers her head brush her mane aside looking down. “ The reason I know what you are think is because you are thinking it.” She sounds hurt. “ Traumatic points that can lead to paranoia, illusions, and schizophrenia. So, what happened to you to make me appear?” She ask sincerely .

I try to think but I’m my thought are blocked by a blinding light. I look back to her.

“I can’t remember.” I confess.

“Maybe that’s why I’m here? I can help, if you’ll let me?”

“I couldn’t imagine anything else?” I ask.

“You could have, but there are worst things to be haunted by. ” Yeah, but MY Little Pony? Couldn’t I be haunted by Frank Sinatra, or Tyler Durden?”

I get off the chair and walk to the front door of my apartment. She’s stand by it with her eyes following.

“Where are you going?” She asks.

“Out!”

I open the door finding myself in a dark hallway with a florescent light buzzing and flickering. I carry on seeing a neighbor opening their door. A womanly figure in a tank top and sweat pants, dirty blond hair going down over where her face is supposed to be. She just has two sunken in pits where her eyes are not , no nose, no mouth, She just stand there like a mannequin on display.

“You should go back to your room!” Twilight tells me standing beside me.

The walls start to crumble and tear. I run down the darken hallway seeing the pony and the faceless woman grow distant.

“Or you could completely ignore me!” The pony shouts looking frustrated.

The hallway become shrouded in darkness till I can’t see anything, I can’t breathe. I scream and see bubbles of air shoot out my mouth swish upward. My body is sluggish as it moves forward as a door faintly appears. I push through feeling the powerful brisk air blowing on my apartment building’s roof top. The Lights of the city burn through the night.

“This this not real! It’s not real!” I tell myself.

I step on the ledge looking down at the cars moving along traffic. People carrying on through the night.

“Come back in!” I hear her behind me. I slowly turn to her making sure that I keep my balance. “You don’t want to do this! Mainly I don’t want you to do this!” She tells me scared and bewildered.

“How can you be sure?” I ask.

“Because I’m asking?” She questions.

“And you are an extension of my subconscious telling me not to jump.” I reply.

“Do you always have to psychoanalyze everything? I mean , your perception is very depressing!” She comments.

I rub my temples trying calming down a migraine that I’m imagining. “YOU”RE NOT REAL! NONE OF THIS IS REAL! NOT EVEN THE BUILDINGS ARE REAL!” I YELL AT HER.

The buildings around me starts to collapse unprovoked. Their thunderous demolition folding into rubble to the ground hurting no one that truly exists.

The lavender pony narrows her eyes at me as I look dumbstruck at the crumbling surroundings.

“You had to destroy the city? Granted that it was imaginary but it was the mental foundation of your world.” She chastises me.

I sit on the ledge with my feet dangling in the air.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask giving up.

“You need to wake up!” She says softy as the roof top breaks and sinks into the dark. The ledge falls and I follow.

*****

I find myself staring at the wine red ceiling lighten by a dim lamp filtered through a dirty lamp shade.

“Good to see you’re up!” Twilight tells me as she lays besides me with her hooves crossed leering into my eyes in content.

“And you are still here! You’re not real, are you?”

“Nope!”

“And are not going to leave?”

“Yup!” Her tail swishes and she gives a big grin.

*****

I splash cold water in my face and rub my forehead with the remaining moisture. I place my hands on the sides of the kitchen sink feeling the anxiety well up in my chest until it hurts. I can’t catch my breath as air starts to become scarce. My legs feel weak and drop to the ground sitting against cabinet door gasping.

“Chester!” She cries rushing to me. “You need to calm down! You are having a panic attack!”

“What …huff…the fuck… huff…you think… huff…I’m trying to do?” I reply.

She places her hooves on my face and pulls me to her face until I only see her round violet eyes.

“Breath! Breath!” She tells me then hums a familiar tune that I can’t figure out the words, but they hang on the tip of my tongue. I chest stops hurting and my breathing comes back into rhythm. She releases her hold and sits staring at me with a humble smile. “You feel better?” She asks.

“FUCK!” I shout. “WHY ARE YOU HERE?!” Her smile disappears into an annoyance gaze. I push myself off the linoleum tile and stumble towards my wet bar opening it hastily and pulling out the crystal whiskey bottle. I fumble the top and just place the rim on my lips taking in the bitter tang numbing my mouth. I slam the bottle on the bar as I feel my throat being stripped.

“She’s not there, she is not there! When I turn around, she’ll be gone!” I coach myself summing up the courage. I got none so I take another drink of the awful liquid that I love.

I spin around pressing my back to the wet bar just seeing my crowed apartment occupied with furniture and antique décor. I feel comfort being surrounded by unnecessary possession that has a richer history. I sigh in relief and I shed a tear not know if it was from the sudden joy or the burning liquor. I slump to the floor sliding on the wet bar cradling the bottle like it was a precious golden nugget during the California gold rush.

I rub my forehead again and freeze feeling a chill creep up my spine as if smoothing ominous is burning their eyes into my side. I look to my right and drop the bottle.

“You’re done acting crazy?” She asks leaning close place her chin on my shoulder.

“FUCK!” I shout.

"So, you're not done?" She replies with a brow raised.

"This is the moment where it fades and the opening theme song rolls and the problems are solved in a single episode!"

"Uh...Chester?"

"Yeah?" She lifts her head and places a hoof on my shoulder

"It would take more than one episode to fix your problems!" She says and I drop my head.

Outside

Haunting Perspective

Outside

I remember only seeing her in dismissed glimpses around my environment. I’m walking down a shopping district with my head phones taking me out from my world and into a trance of thought to stir up any ideas for a novel. Then I’ll catch a foretaste of her in the peripheral of my eyes through a faint reflection on a shop window. I would turn and see her trotting behind me from the displays. I would take a second glance and she would be gone. This continued for a while. I just brushed it off as a simple illusion of the mind.

I remember her. My little sister watched the show when I would just sink in the couch drawing little doodles on my sketchbook. She would ask if I would draw them for her, but I told her I’m not a cartoonist, that my style is different.

Being tired of the constant the purple pony’s appearances and not knowing who she was, I looked her up on the internet late at night. An asocial character at first then changes as soon as she accepts help from persistent friends to go against the show’s first established foe. I read on. A book worm, applies rational thinking to situations, organized and obsessed about it, prone to nervous breakdowns when overwhelmed with insecurities and quarrels.

I spent hours looking her up and grew weary. I close my laptop and lift my glasses to rub my burning eyes. I gave up and step away from my oak computer desk then open my wet bar serving myself a double of bourbon. It crawls over my tongue with a warm burn giving a slight buzz. I continue till my balance reflects my spinning head. I stumble to my bed and drop face first feeling my scars on my forearms burn as if the wounds reopened. I pull on my sleeves and ignore them then black out shortly after.

She confronts me in my dream for the first time causing my mind to crumble and wake into reality where she followed.

Sitting on the floor slumped against my wet bar in discontent, I pick up my dropped bottle and cradle it like an infant and avoid looking at her and ignoring the spilt liquor.

“You stay here!” Twilight he telsl me and walks into the kitchen. Her horn glows in a purple light and a drawer lightens up in the same aura. The drawer is pulled and a dishcloth is taken out by a violet orb of light hovering in the air. The drawer closes and she strolls to me with a smile and that dishcloth drifting overhead. She wipes the spilt whisky with the floating dishcloth while humming a tune.

“There! Now where do you keep the hamper?” She ask balling the soaked cloth with magic.

“In the bathroom.” I answer her pointing at the open door way across the room.

She enters the bathroom and I take another swig of whisky hoping that she would just vanish, but she returns to my side sitting with her round eye looking at me.

“Well, nothing stirs up a conversation like awkward silence!” She comments forcing a smile and I just take another drink. “You want to stop that?”

“Stop what?”

“The drinking!” She shouts.

“No! I hoping the more I do, the faster you would go away!” Her ears bend back and becomes annoyed. She stomps a hoof on the ground.

“I’m not going away and you are just going have to deal with that!” She states.

I try to take another drink, but the bottle starts to glow purple and is pulled from my hand. It travels over my head and into the wet bar shelf with the cabinet door slamming after.

“There! And to be sure.” She exclaims then I hear the lock in the wet bat click. I stand straight up trying to budge it open, but it remains. I step back pointing a shaky finger at the wet bar in awe and anger.

“How did you do that?” I ask.

“With magic, I thought you knew I could do that?”

“Not the magic thing! You are not real so how could you interact with objects?” I ask her freaking even more out.

“It’s hurt my feelings every time you tell me that I’m not real.” She replies.

“Don’t deflect!” I demand. She gives a stern look and turns around walking to the covered window by the bed.

“This place is depressing!” She comment and the curtains spread without a moment’s notice; I shield myself from the immense light before it burns my retinas. Wait? It’s day out?

“Oh come on, the sun won’t kill you!” She tells me as I try to see her through the gap in my hands and the light. “It’s not even sunny outside! Well as dark as this place is, I’m surprised you didn’t burst into flames from the cloudy skies!”

“Shit! What time is it?” I ask. I turn to the clock on the night stand and see the green neon light reading eleven thirty-seven. I drop my hands to my sides and feel the horrid warmth of the day. “Shit!”

“What?” Twilight jerks her head back in shock. I bolt to my closet yanking the door open and riffling through my appeal trying to find a descent business shirt. I feel her behind me staring at me as I throw my clothes on the floor. “You goanna say something or just expect me to figure out what you doing?” She asks.

“I thought you could read my mind?”

“That’s only while you dream. Out here, I… I can’t.” I turn to her seeing her stare at the dropped clothes solemnly. She points at a red shirt with her hoof.

“That one would be suiting if you have conversation over business. Red is a passion and intimidating color catching the eye in attention.” She points at another shirt. You could use blue as a passive aggressive tactic setting the other person at ease.” She sadly states. “I read it in a psychology book.” She looks at me glum with her head ducked.

I pick up the blue shirt and take it off the hanger.

“I don’t want to scare the guy. He’s my publisher and I need him to be mellow.” I tell her and she sits straight up with a gentle smile. I leer at her blankly and she leers back then tilting her head to the side with an ear twitching. “You just going to stand there and watch me because I need to change my pants as well? I don’t need this to get anymore awkward than it already is!” I tell her.

“Oh, yeah! Sorry!” She walks backwards wearing a embarrassed grin until she hides behind the bed. “Sorry! She says again.

I scratch my head wondering if I should even ask. “Can you still see me?”

“No…Just let me know when you are done!” She says and a sudden thought came to me.

I quickly change and quietly grab my keys, wallet, a sports coat and the cell phone from my night stand. I silently creep to the door while keeping out of her sight, but just to be sure.

“Are you looking?” I ask opening the door.

“No I’m not! I staring straight into the carpet!” She shouts and I cautiously close the door without any sound then set the lock. “Hello?” I hear her say from inside the room and I rush down the stairs to the parking garage.

My dress shoes echo in the darken lot as I walk with haste trying to contain my chills and the panic urging to overwhelm me. I look around like a paranoid junkie twitching every direction.

I reach my parking spot overcome with anger and shock as I just see an empty space where my vehicle should be.

The parking garage door slams open in a faint bang and then sound of hooves clopping on cement growing closer as I stare at a stain of motor oil imprinted on the ground.

“HEY!” I hear Twilight yell from behind then the echo briefly replays. “That was incredibly rude and, and! Arhh! I’m so infuriated that I can’t come up with any insulting adjectives other than ‘jerk’!”

I just close my eyes breathing in slowly hearing the sky rumble. “It’s not here! It’s not here!” I mutter to myself.

I open my eyes and see Twilight standing in the middle of the parking space pissed off glaring at me with intense rage.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that I’m not here, because that worked so well last time!” She shouts at me then pants. “And I am a she! Not an it!”

“I wasn’t talking about you! I was talking about my missing car!” I tell her.

She looks around and furls her brow then she turns back to me. “Where was it last?” She asks.

I go back inside the building and exit the first floor lobby of the complex and stare into moving traffic looking for a cab to hale in a city raining icy devils pitch forks. In New York, it fluctuates from easy to “I’m going to find where you live asshole!” frustrating. I wave and yell at cabs like an idiot grunting with every failure while the pony sits on the sidewalk soaking wet with her eyes following.

“So, you needed to meet your publisher?” She asks.

“Yeah, it’s for my new book!” I reply to her still trying to get the attention of a taxi drive.

“I didn’t know you wrote a new book!”

“I haven’t. I was going to pull one out my ass.” A woman holding an umbrella and wear a designer dress flinches as I turn to Twilight and I suddenly realize that I’m talking aloud to a fictional pony that only I could see. Let alone the “pull one out my ass” could be taken out of context.

“What!? A guy can’t yell at his drug induced hallucinations!?” I aggressively ask the frightened woman. She jump forward and picks up her pace as she double takes my instability.

“Was that really necessary?” Twilight asks with her drenched bangs over her eyes.

“No, but it felt good!” I turn back to traffic contemplating if I should walk into it and ride whatever hits me.

“Let me try!” Twilight says and starts to trot pass the parked cars aside of the curb.

“Twilight, no! That’s not a good idea!” I plead to her under my breath as others see me and they give me a stare. I stare back annoyed. “Keep watching! I’ll start barking in a few minutes then after that, I’ll play the guitar with my d-“ I stop at the sound of tires screeching behind me. I turn around and see the purple pony jump up at a stopped taxi with the driver stunned looking around.

“It worked!” She shouts and prances to the cab.

I turn back the people I was yelling at. “You guys have a nice day and stay sane!” I tell them and dash to the cab with Twilight trying to figure out the door handle. I open the door and she jumps in then shakes of the water from her coat. She takes a seat with a wide grin and I take mine slamming the door. The driver turns with his hand up in confused exasperation.

“Hey, I don’t know what happened but my cab just stop!” He tells me and cars lined behind honk in a unorganized symphony. I turn to Twilight bewildered.

“I thought I was supposed to stop the car.” She says and I rub my temples feeling a pulsating head ach crawl under my skin. If this hangover won’t kill me, I’ll find something else that would. “I’ll try something!” Her horn glows and the engine resurrects into a roar and a pop from the muffler. “I am very handy if I do say so myself!” She smugly comments. I have no idea how my subconscious mustered her up, or even why, but I think it hates me for all the drinking. Fuck you brain!

“Never mind man! Where do you need to go?” The driver asks.

“7th Avenue and W 52nd St Sheraton tower.” I tell him and he enters the streets in his GPS.

I look out my window with the rain crashing on the glass. Twilight leans over and stare outside with her two hooves pressing on my lap. I feel her weight and see her at joyous awe witnessing the city. She tucks a wet lock of hair over her ear with a hoof.

“I never experienced the city like this!” She says looking back at me.

I pull out my phone and place against my ear. “Hello?” I say to no one on the phone. Twilight backs away from the window perplexed.

“Who’s on the phone?” She asks.

“No one! I just did it so people don’t think I’m crazy." I reply indirectly. The cab driver glances at me in the rear view mirror. I nod my head at him and he returns his focus on traffic.

“Are you talking to me?” Twilight asks.

“Yes, just trying to make idol conversation.”

“Okay, uh, so you are an author. What types of books you write?”

“I thought you would know everything about me?” I turn my gaze at her sadden. She scoots in closer to me.

“All I know is what I seen. Before this…before this morning I only saw glimpses of you through a one way mirror. There was one other time I entered this plane but you weren’t conscious. Being behind that mirror only reminds me of my nonexistence. I’m only a perception of what you see. I know this only raises question that I don’t have the answer to.” She lowers her head looking like me after an anti-depressant chased with vodka.

I place my hand on her head and feel her thick wet mane.

“You feel my hand on your head?” I whisper to her. She raises her head meeting my gaze with her large violet eyes.

“Yeah, I do!” She responds.

“And I feel you head, solid mass that occupies space. You can interact with objects and you seem very cognitive. Your thinking opposes mine.”

“What are you saying?” I move my hand away.

“That you are a figment that neither fiction nor psychology could explain, or that I’m really more fucked up than I originally thought. Also I have too much of a hangover for me to ponder on this in depth.” I elaborate. She narrows her eyes at me.

“Was that supposed to be comforting because I don’t feel better one bit!”

“I got some pills that could help!” I tell her.

The cab comes to a stop where traffic stands still with horns blaring.

“Cabbie 24601, come in.” The dispatch radio cracks on with popish static. The driver grabs the receiver.

“This 24601!” He answers.

“There is congestion on Broadway. A construction yard went through an accident on Midtown so authorities has block streets to pass through.”

“What happened?” The cab driver asks.

“What I’m hearing from the news a steel beam fell with two workers on it. One of them died from the fall!” The dispatcher responds.

The driver looks back at me. “You hear that guy! We are going to be stuck here for a while!”

I see that we are in W 48th and 6th avenue, just a couple of blocks away from the tower. I hand the driver a hundred for his trouble and thank him. I step out the car and into pouring rain holding the door out for the invisible pony. I take off my sports coat and hold it over her with one hand shielding her from the rain as we make our way to the nearest building’s awning.

She steps on the side walk away from me and the rain and shakes off the water. People react to the moist mist violently sprayed in their faces. They glare at the spot where Twilight is at but don’t see her.

“Thanks for that! It’s was very nice of you!” She tells me with a wide smile as she closed her eyes. I look at my coat now heavy dripping on the concrete.

“I don’t know why I did it though.” I tell her and start walking along the building.

“It was a kind gesture nonetheless!” She follows me avoiding people as they walk around me. I need to get her out of my head and out of my life. This is becoming too much to take in. Seeing her next to me is a slap to my rationality. My scars on both my arms start to burn intensely and I stop to fight the reoccurring pain. I scratch at them hoping that it would stop. Twilight peers at me looking concerned.

“It’s your scars isn’t it?” She asks. I continue on ignoring the burn and she trots aside of me.

“You know about them?” I ask under my breath not looking at her.

“I saw them before.” She replies.

“Well, if you know about them, you should know I don’t like talking about them!” I walk faster and turn a corner feeling a brief moment of the freezing rain. She matches my pace.

“Look Chester, I know I’m here to help you! So, if you would let me-“

I stop unable to look at her as clinching my fist until I feel them blister.

“All I know that all I have to do is withstand you until you disappear! Until then, you’re an imaginary inconvenience.” I grunt and continue down the pathway. I don’t look back, I don’t want to see her sad face. I suddenly hear an echo in my ear.

“I was there!”

I turn around and the purple pony is nowhere in sight! Now I feel guilty! I’m such an asshole!

What My Mind Hides

Haunting Perspective

What My Mind Hides

I’m alone in the harsh rain sulking as I saunter through the side walk on 49th and 7th now unwilling to go meet my publisher. I don’t feel like doing anything right now, or at all. My mouth is thirsty for anything I could find in a liquor store and I feel the hungry urge to smoke. More importantly I just want to lay in the dark and avoid the world entirely. I know my demons that I used to fuel my writing has turned against me. Xanax and vodka can only numb the creeping insanity for so long until it overflows and floods the sense of morality.

I look in a display for a small Barns n Noble seeing my awful reflection. My hair is a mess, glasses are not straight, and I’m soaking wet holding a drenched sports coat. I feel worse than I look. For some reason I hope I would see her looking at my appalling reflection, but I’m remain as I am. A self-alienated belligerent ass who writes overlooked novels.

“If you could hear me, I’m sorry!” I mutter at my reflection not caring if anyone misinterprets my actions. I carry on to the Sheraton Tower.

I enter the lobby dripping on the marble. A greeter hands me a hand towel from a table stocked with them in preparations for an idiot like me who didn’t even think to bring an umbrella.

“Enjoying the weather, sir?” The greeter asks sarcastically as I dry off.

“No, just taking the annual shower. I forgot my body soap at home.” I reply. He chuckles and I hand him back the wet towel. “I didn’t expect this weather in spring?” I say.

The bell boy suddenly looks confused and then shakes it off. “Checking in, sir?” He asks politely this time.

“I meeting someone at the café bar!”

He point at the end of the lobby where a fancy entrance to a overpriced doughnut and coffee shop.

I enter the café bar noticing that I’m out of place immediately. Everyone here is either wearing a high priced business suite or a lavish dress holding conversation via laptop, smart phones, and blue tooth headsets. There’s one way to talk to yourself without looking crazy, but appearing as a loud aggressive jackass who talks too much about his business or sex life. Then I see the jackass on the blue wave at me to come over to the bar and notice that he is my publisher.

I walk apprehensively to him and a he holds out a hand.

“Chester! Nice- Whoa?! What the heck happened to you? You swim over hear?” He asks.

“No, but with this weather, I might have to swim back.”

Dan Barbucci has a many of years over me. I’m twenty-three and he’s 61 and the head editor at Travel Road Publishing. No book gets the green light without his say. I don’t remember why his suddenly chummy, but he checks in from time to time. The reason eludes me, my books aren’t very popular. Just some paperbacks with shitty covers that pander to the cliché of the genre.

“There’s that charming wit. I missed it since you buried it under your brooding personality.” He says with a faint Irish accent.

“I don’t brood! I sulk solemnly!” He laughs and pats the stool next to him for me to sit.

I place my elbows on the counter leering at the wide variety of alcohol. If I was left behind the bar after hours, they would find my body in the morning with a grin and a bar with no wares. The memory of the purple pony pulling away the whisky bottle with magic and setting it in the wet bar at home. Now everything before now seems so surreal!

“Well! Your book, Under My Gun is going on the selves later this year and Forester is scheduled for next winter.”

“Wow, Two books that would be overlooked through the other one hundred and ninety thousand new books that come out every year in the United States, Three hundred and thirty thousand worldwide. Let me ask you something, Should I hire a guy to find out what is the statistic of the average American coming across my book, since the average American only buys two to three books a year.” I rant.

“I know the statistics, and I have to work to change them. I have five hundred unread novel to examine and three hundred hopeful authors that are going to be disappointed. And don’t forget a large amount of those books are self-help and some idiotic Stephanie Meyer wannabe and their bull shit novel that caters to insecure teenagers. I believe in your books! And If you have another one, that would help.” Dan replies.

“I don’t have one at this moment.”

“Ahem!” I hear a familiar voice pretend to clear their throat from my side. I turn left and see Twilight sitting on the stool next to me wearing an angry frown and stern eyes. I turn away and drop my head.

“You again?!” I mutter. I pick my head up and notice the young male bartender behind the bar hurt at what I just said. An awkward moment if there ever was one.

“I was really hurt at what you said!” Twilight tells me. “Well, aren’t you going to say something! Like an apology!” I try not to look at her.

“I’m sorry!” I say looking at the bartender.

“Was that for me?” She question.

“I’m going to need a triple of jack on the rocks!” I tell the bartender.

“Wow a triple this early?” Dan asks.

“AARGGGHHHH! Why aren’t you answering me?!” Twilight shouts.

I look down at the counter. “Look, I’m sorry that I can come off as a complete and total ass.” I announced hoping that Twilight would understand that was for her. The bartender places the drink with a small straw in front of me as I try to see the lavender pony in the corner of my eye. She looks utterly befuddled.

“Was that directed me or the counter?” No dice.

I feel a hand pat on my shoulder. I turn to Dan seeing a smile on his face.

“You are an ass, but a friend! Now if you could tell me why is it that you kill all your main characters in every novel! Granted that they die poetically, and beautifully bitter.” He asks.

“Now he has ruined every ending of your book for me!” Twilight exasperates laying her chin on the counter.

“I get into the character and feel like I should just do away with them in the end. I’m not a happy ending kind of guy!” I respond.

Dan chuckles. “Is that why you are so fucked up?” He says laughing and turning red. I just smile at the concept.

“That would be my assumption!” I hear Twilight comment.

“I’m not fucked up because I write! I write because I’m fucked up!” I reply and Dan starts coughing through his laughter.

I lift my drink to my lips noticing at there is no liquor inside, just ice cubes. I turn to Twilight looking sickly and green as the straw hangs from her lips.

“Are you serious?!” I whisper and she bangs her head on the counter.

“I didn’t want you to drink again so had to think fast, but I thought wrong! Horribly, horribly wrong.” She says and begins to gag.

“You can really put those away!” Says Dan.

I turn to him and nervously nod trying to think on how to deal with a drunken pony… I’m- I’m drawing a blank.

“Hey! What did you do to Twilight!” A light female voice questions and I’m scared to look who it is, but against my fears, I do.

A pink pony with sky blue eyes fiercely glaring into mine as she stands on the counter; her mane has certain buoyancy to it. Not another fucking pony!

“Uh, bartender, I need another drink!” I announce.

The pink pony continues to eye me making abstract angry facial expressions or she is currently having a stroke?

“I said, what did you do to my friend!” The pony shouts and Twilight’s stool tips over with her falling to the floor motionless. I assume she is fine because she is groaning in pain. The pink pony jumps off the counter quickly to aid Twilight and the bartender hand me another drink that I swiftly down.

“I hope you are not driving home!” Dan asks.

“Someone stole my Impala!” I answer staring at the bar shelf wondering how many bottles I could drink before someone stops me. All I know is that I’d go straight for the brandy first to drown out the voices that seemed to multiply.

“The Impala?! You never got it replaced?” He cocks his head back in shock.

I hear the pink pony asking Twilight “Where does it hurt?” and a continuously ask “Is it here, or here, or here?! How about here?”

“Replaced?” I ask. Things start to blur and the background sounds muffles.

“Look at me!” He leans over and I meet his gaze. “Follow my finger!” He moves a finger horizontally. I try to follow but my eyes can focus on the simple movement. He puts his finger down and sighs. “Please tell me you remember the wreck?” He asks. I bat an eye.

“What?” I say feeling a ball in my throat.

“The wreck six months ago! What’s the date?” Dan questions.

“Uh…” I stammer trying to find the simple answer. “April 5th, 2012.” That’s the last time I remember.

Dan pulls out his phone displaying the date. My heart sinks to the ground and a pit takes home in my gut.

“September 9th 2012! Your wreck happened in March!” He declares then puts the phone back in his vest pocket. “I called you yesterday to make this meeting. What’s the last thing you remember?”

The last thing I remember was looking up Twilight on the internet, before that…

“Wallowing and drinking in my apartment trying to find a book Idea.” I try to remember, but only imagine smeared blurs through foggy glasses.

I look at the ponies seeing Twilight on her back with her eye closed, hooves loosely up and that straw still in her mouth. The pink one pokes her with a hoof making Twilight twitch. I return my attention to Dan seeing his lips move, but no sound comes out. He just continues talking with no words. Then noise begins to slowly returns to the world around me hearing everyone talk at once, dishes clattering, stomping footsteps.

“Your attending physician was Dr. McHale at the Methodist hospital. He was the responding doctor in the ER that treated you. There was some head trauma after the accident but nothing serious, though now I would beg to differ.”

“How could I not notice six months or remember a wreck?” I ask rubbing my eyes in frustration.

Dan shrugs his shoulders. “I wish I could tell you. We talked about the wreck a month ago. I think you need to see your doctor. Something is really wrong.” You’re telling me. I’m seeing talking ponies from a cartoon! “I have to ask you something here, and I need you to answer.” He takes a breath and shakes his head. “Do you remember cutting yourself two months ago?” Dan asks as I grew cold and irritable.

“Back to this?” I drink what’s left in my glass. “Don’t remember why I did it, but I know I did it!”

“I know why. You were dealing with the wreck." He states.

"The wreck that I don't remember?"

" The doctor said that you had three different anti-depressants, aspirin when they had to pump you stomach and a razors an inch deep in both your arms. Not to mention a blood alcohol level over three times the legal limit. If your neighbor didn’t find the door opened.” Another helping hand.

“Look Dan, You are not my friend, you’re my publisher. You make money off me and I make money off you. That’s it and nothing more! If I wanted help, I’ll just pick up one of those self-help books that are published by the shit load. And this wreck bullshit you’re trying to sell, I’m not buying!”

I get up from the stool with my sports coat resting over my arm then I glance at the ponies again. This time the pink one is trying to drag Twilight on the floor by her tail in the pink pony’s mouth mumbles vowels through the hair. I walk by and grab the pink pony’s tail lifting her off the ground with the unconscious Twilight being dragged behind and Dan shouting my name. I leave without turning as my scars burning. I don’t remember leaving the door opened.

I reenter the lobby and being greeted by the bell boy!

The pink pony spits out Twilight’s tail “Hey, sir?!” She says trying to grab the attention of the bell boy. “I’M BEING KIDDNAPED! GET HELP!” The pink pony cries.

“Have a nice day sir.” The bell boy tells me. I nod at him trying to ignore the new figment’s screams for help. She clinches onto one of Twilight’s hind legs with her hooves dragging her as I carry the pink pony by her tail.

“HE’S GOING TO KILL US! WHY AREN’T YOU DOING ANYTHING?!” The pony yells as we leave the building.

The showers grew stronger and more violent as I’m barraged by silver dollar rain drops. I let go of the pink pony’s tail and she jumps back taking a stance like a rabid dog ready to attack. She starts to growl like one. I look at Twilight weakly pushing herself up then spitting out the straw.

“Calm down Pinky! He’s a friend.” She tells the other pony. She wobbles while looking ill.

“What? Him?” The pink pony points at me with a hoof. “ But he’s! He’s!”

“Unpleasant, unsavory, angry, crude, vulgar, volatile, verbally vicious, a vindictive vile villain?” I add.

Twilight turns and nods at the pink pony. “That seems to sum it up nicely!” She comments.

“I’m getting a cab!” I tell them walking to the curb raising my hand. A taxi parks by the curb.

“Where are we going?” Twilight asks shaking in the cold rain and the other pony keeps her distance from me with livid eyes.

“I’m going to the hospital. I need some answers!”

Yesterday

Haunting Perspective

Yesterday

I open the taxi door and the pink pony jump in and sits on the opposite end of staring at me coldly like demon child. Twilight is slow to enter the cab as the driver looks at me perplexed.

“What the hell are you waiting for, an invitation?” He asks aggressively.

I take my seat besides Twilight while she seems still ill from the whisky. How was she able to drink it. I know I didn’t drink and imagine her do it. My head ach would have lighten up.

“Where to boss?” The cab driver asks.

“Methodist Hospital. Fifty buck extra if you get there under twenty.” I tell him.

“You’re the boss, but I would buckle up!”

“Uh… I can’t grab the seat belts!” Pinky says scratching her hoof at the buckle.

“I don’t feel good.” Twilight states right before she gags with her head drifting from side to side dazed. She leans on me with her head resting on my arm. I feel her weight, her cold wet coat. The three of us are push into the seat as the driver speeds off with tires screeching zipping pass other cars while he jumps lanes.

Twilight wraps her front legs around my arm tightly as we rock lest to right violently. Pinky Pie bounces on the seat with her hooves in the air.

“WOOOOOO! This is fun! I love taxis!” She says right before her face hits the window hard. “Wooooo!” She expresses muffled as her face is pressed against the glass with her legs dangling in the air “It’s a really beautiful city.”

“Pinky? Are you okay?” Twilight asks.

“I’m stuck!” The pinky pony says. I grab her tail and yank her away from the window hearing a loud pop. She turns her head showing that her muzzle is flattened. She feels around where her mouth should be then she makes a facial expression that I can only describe as aggressive constipation. Her muzzle pops back out. “That was fu-“ The driver gives a hard turn throwing Pinky Pie with a yelp down to the car floor.

The car stops abruptly and feeling of normal gravity returns giving the sensation of being lighter.

“I made it under fifteen! Pay up!” The driver sticks his hand out and I take out a fifty and pass it to him with a tremble. “Oh, don’t worry about the meter. I forgot to put it on!”

I jump out the cab into the hospital parking lot being drenched in rain and hold the door for my invisible companions. Pinky prances and Twilight shifts and stumbles to the side. I close the door and the taxi speeds off splashing water on all of us. My pants completely soaked, both ponies’ manes are flattened over their faces.

We rush to through the entrance of the main lobby and feel the sterilized cold air gusting. Both ponies shake off the water from their coat spraying me again. I head to the information desk where I greet an elderly woman who’s expression resembles that of a bulldog looking at me with listless irises and a hint of distain.

“Can I help you” She says as if she rehearsed it so many times it lost its luster of enthusiasm.

“Yes, I’m looking for a Dr. McHale.” I tell her. She types on her out of date computer as I glance at the large crystal bowl of peppermints wondering If I need one to hide the liquor smell.

“Reason for visit?” She asks.

“Past patient!”

“He is in the ER, but I’ll try to page him. You name sir?”

“Chester Wentworth.”

“Go to the waiting area. I call on you when I get through.”

I pull away from the desk into the nearly empty waiting area with large windows showing the depressing weather as the rain falls and water streams down the thick glass. How did I get here? How did I get placed in this estrange situation where every moment seems surreal.

I look around for my hallucinations and see Twilight vomiting into a large potted colocasia with the pink one holding Twilight’s mane way from her face with her mouth. I go and lean against the wall next to the plant and pretend to look at the lobby as Twilight continues to expel the Jack Daniels.

“How, how you doing?” I whisper.

“Not good! My head hurts, my stomach burns, I feel like someone is squeezing insides and I have the taste of the drink in my mouth with an acidic twist. Thanks for holding my mane Pinky.” She turns her not seeing her friend. “Pinky?”

“I think she got distracted.” I point at the information desk where Pinky is holding on top of edge of the desk with her hind legs dangle while she reaches for the bowl of mints. Her eyes wide and focused on the bowl. One hoof stretching as she grunts. “Find a seat.” I tell Twilight sudden realizing that I’m acknowledging my hallucinations as real cognitive beings. If they are linked to my drinking, I’m stuck with them till I die…probably from my drinking?

I walk back to the information desk and grab a hand full of the mints. The cranky receptionist raises a brow.

“Do you really need that many mints?” She asks.

“Do you want to smell my halitosis to justify my need for the mints?” I respond.

“I’ll take you word for it. Must be a bad case of halitosis if you need see an ER doctor for it.” The receptionist says then pushes the bowl closer to me where Pinky can reach. Her eye lighten up brightly and jaw drops in surprised satisfaction. “Take some more! It’ll make it easier for you to talk to people without them running away.” The receptionist adds.

“In that case I’ll keep that halitosis and just eat the mints for blood sugar.” I grab the remaining mints and Pinky gasps in devastation.

“HEY, THOSE WERE MY CANDIES!” She screams at me. The heavily breaths with a snort and her eyes narrow with overwhelming rage. I try to keep my eye contact on the receptionist whom now seems more pleasant to deal with.

“Boy, you are just chalk filled with issues.” The receptionist comments. I know it was meant for the blood sugar line, but just seems that the universe is just fucking with me.

“More than People magazine.” I reply.

I reenter the waiting area with Pinky hooves wrapped around my ankle growling as she shouts “GIVE ME BACK MY CANDY!” I see Twilight quietly sits in a chair reading a magazine while I try to shake off the angry pony that is now biting the ankle sleeve of my pants, but her vice holds and just makes her madder. I’m kind of afraid to punch her in the nose like a shark, wondering if she’ll just bite my hand then obtaining the taste of human blood.

I drop into a seat next to Twilight then Pinky crawls up my leg with her hooves planted on my knees looking rabid. I hold out my hands together offering the peppermints. Holding her livid stare, she slides the mint off my hand with her front legs then carrying them like a babe. She ducks down and slides under Twilights seat hiding from me. The sound of crumpling plastic emits from under Twilight.

“Don’t think that I don’t have an eye on you!” Pinky tell me. I look at her eyes peering from under Twilight’s chair large round and enrage. The sound of crumpling plastic still is heard. “I can go for days without blinking once!” She says with her mouth full.

“Pinky? Are you eating the wrappers?” Twilight asks.

“Unwrapping them is just holding me back.” Pinky replies while Twilight puts her hoof to her face shaking her hear.

“Unwrap them and go easy on Chester, he is having a hard day!” Twilight tells her while I feel a metaphoric nail hit me on the head as I turn to the reason for my hard day.

“Okay.” Pinky says then slowly recedes under that chair very smoothly and whispers. “I’ll be watching!”

Twilight turns to me embarrassed. “Sorry about that, she is a little erratic” She leans in closer with a hoof next to her face. “With a touch of insanity!” She whispers and I chuckle. “What’s so funny.” She asks.

“One of my hallucination is telling me that the other is spontaneously crazy. Do you see the irony?” I ask her pushing up my glasses back on the bridge of my nose. She looks up biting her lower lip.

“Not really?” She replies. I relax in my seat feeling alone in the deterioration of my mental status. “You know right here it says that sexual frustration and repression can affect the mind to drastic extents of anti-social behavior, aggression, alcoholism, depression, and mental defect.” My eyes widen and I feel my cheeks blush. She looks at me with apprehensive concern. “So…Is there anything you want to talk abo-“

“I’m not having this discussion with you or anybody!” I interrupt.

“I just trying to cover all possibilities. Psychology Today was on the stand and I thought maybe It would help.”

“No! It did not. It would be less awkward if my mother was asking these questions instead of a talking pony.”

“You bring up you mother. Why is that? How was your relationship with her?” Twilight asks. I stare at her blankly.

“I going to find the gift shop and buy a can opener to lobotomize myself.”

“I was trying to help.”

“I think you did some metal trauma.”

“When was the last time you…you know?” She asks.

“I am going closing my eyes and I’m not going to hear you!”

“But?”

“Not hearing you!”

“The receptionist is staring at you.” Twilight says.

“I don’t care! I’m in a hospital and they have a psych ward that seems nice.” I reply.

“She is talking to a doctor.”

I open my eyes and see an Indian doctor conversing with the receptionist.

“That’s not him.” I say looking her straight in the eye.

“Why?”

“My doctor’s name is McHale, it’s an Irish name. He’s, from somewhere else.”

“Why is he walking over here then?” I look back and see him approaching. I sit up straight in my seat surprised to see him offering his hand.

“Hi I’m Abu McHale, you asked for me?” He says. With a late reaction I shake his hand firmly.

“Yes, I’m- I’m Chester Wentworth. I was a patient of yours awhile back.”

“You would have to refresh my memory, I see twenty patients every four hours.” He replies.

“I was in a few months ago, uh…or so I’m told by my publisher.”

“Yes! Yes, I remember now. You’re the writer from the car wreck! I couldn’t recognize you without the blood and bandages. I was glad I could help you Mr. Wentworth.” His words punch a hole in my stomach.

“Chester.” Twilight says to me as I feel her place a hoof on my shoulder. Pinky Pie crawls out from under the chair.

I stand up now knowing that this is no bad joke. “Wait? I was in a car wreck?” Dr. McHale steps back.

“Yes, Mr. Wentworth.” He turns to the reception. “Call records and get the files of a Chester Wentworth and ask when he was admitted.” He turns back to me. We can clear this up. It’ll just take a moment.” He tells me.

I fall back in my seat and Twilight stares at me saddened. “I’m sorry.” She tells me then she looks down.

Pinky pie jumps into the chair on the other side with puppy dog eyes and a wrapped peppermint clinched between her teeth. She moves in closer and places it on my lap. “You can have it.” She says.

“Dr. McHale!” The receptionist calls. “He was admitted on March 14th 2012 from a car wreck. He suffered a head injury, broken ribs, right forearm, left leg, and a fractured jaw. Lives at 1564 Melancholy Ave , Brooklyn, New York.” She confirms my address.

“That’s, that’s where I live.” I mutter and look down.

“Mr. Wentworth, do you remember the wreck?” Dr. McHale asks. Pinky lays her head on my lap next to the peppermint glum. Twilight looks at me.

“Do you Chester?” She asks as well.

“No.” I reply.

“Do you remember being admitted?” Dr. McHale asks.

“I don’t.”

“You need to come with me then Mr. Wentworth. I’ll order some tests.”

Meeting my demons

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Nothing but broken glass

Haunting Perspective

Nothing but broken glass

The bed of the MIR moves me into the machine with a loud drone as I wear a hospital gown.

“We are right here Chester” Twilight tells me with a remorseful tone.

“What happened to him?” Pinky whispers.

“Okay Mr. Wentworth. We are going to start now. Now, don’t move or it’ll mess up the reading.” The radiologist says through a microphone in another room.

I enter the mechanized cave and light panels flash round the inside. A large whining and the loud clicks continue into repetition. The light start to hurt my eyes so I close them still seeing it pierce my eye lids making me see white through a bloody filter.

“You okay in there Chester?” Twilight asks. I can’t answer her or the radiologist would see me talking to myself.

“Say nothing if you are okay.” Pinky Pie shouts. “He’s okay! I think. Chester! Say nothing if you are in trouble!” I still can’t answer. “HE’S IN TROUBLE! GET HIM OUT! GET THE JAWS OF LIFE! Wait? I got jaws. I coming Chester.” All I hear now is Pinky growling and gnawing at the MIR.

“Pinky! He’s fine!” Twilight responds.

“How do you know? The machine could have eaten him!”

“His feet are right there. I can see them.”

Pinky gasps. “That’s all that’s left of him? Why?” I hear Pinky whine and cry loudly as it echoes in the machine. “I gave him my last candy, now the machine ate him… and the candy.”

“Almost done Mr. Wentworth. How you doing?” The radiologist asks through the intercom.

“I still alive. I’m going to take that and call it a day.” I reply hoping that my imaginary friends would stop talking.

“He’s still alive!” Pinky joyously announces.

“That’s what I been trying to tell you.” Twilight shouts.

“And we are done!” The radiologist comes in the room and the bed slowly slides out.

I sit up on the slab feeling drained. They took two quarts of blood for different testing, pumped me full of iodine, and gave a urine sample. Glad the ponies stayed out if the restroom on that one.

“You okay?” Twilight asks.

“How you feel Mr. Wentworth?” The radiologist asks walking next to me.

“A little tired with a strong headache.” I respond to the both of them.

“Well, these test will do that to you.” He tells me. Well no duh? I been poked and grabbed in uncomfortable places, then I was blasted with enough radiation to make me turn into the Incredible Brooding Hulk. I have been legally violated and experimented on. “The medical transporter will be by in a moment and will take you, uh? Well somewhere that is not here.”

There is a knock on the door and a young man with a crew cut wearing blue scrubs opens it.

“I’m here for Chester Wentworth.” He says.

“Well here’s you ride.” The radiologist tells me.

“Is it another taxi? Oh please, oh please, oh please let it be a taxi ride!”

“Pinky, calm down! It’s a wheelchair for Chester. They are going to take him to another room.”

I sit my ass on the chair feeling the cold touch of the leather against my back and the transporter pushes me along. The wheelchair might as well be Charon’s boat drifting on the river of soul who couldn’t pay for a ride, sent to wonder for a hundred years.

The ponies’ hooves clopping on the linoleum echoes in the hallway following the young transporter.

“We are right with you Chester!” Twilight shouts. Her and Pinky whisper to each other but I can’t make out what they are saying.

I look up on the ceiling seeing the light panels pass overhead. The more I look at them, the brighter they become stinging my eyes as if a hot needle pierced the retinas sending a strong head ach traveling to the back of my head. I try to fight it hoping that it’s just a hangover. But I still see the ponies, I hear them, I fucking feel their physical presence. Their coat, their mane, their hooves, it all seems too real. More real than I feel at this moment.

I’m placed in the examining room where I was first sent hours ago. A big brown paper shopping bag holding my clothes and the possessions I had on me sits on the counter next to the sink. I lie flat on the stiff bed covering my eyes with a hand trying to calm the pain. A sudden knock comes at the door.

“Uh…Chester? The transporter closed the door before we could get in.” Twilight says through the thick door.

“I know! I think we need to see other people!” I reply.

“Other people can’t see us!” Twilight shouts angrily.

“What? We are invisible? Why didn’t know one tell me!” Pinky yells.

“Because no one can see you Pinky!” Twilight replies. “Pinky come here!”

I don’t know what to cover now. My eyes from the light or my ears from them, then I granted silence. Nothing to hear: just blissful solitude. A metallic clicking disturbs my ascension into a false sense of nirvana as I see the door handle move up and down. The door slowly swings open with a slight creek and Pinky Pie hanging from the handle with her teeth clinched onto it. I drop my head back into the hard bed and cover my eyes again.

The door slams shut with a loud thud. “Why didn’t you open the door?” Twilight asks. “I have tried being supportive, caring, and not to mention patient with you, but, but. You can drive a pony crazy!” I lift my hand a bit a see Twilight a little frazzled with her eyes wide and stressed, her pupils shrunk, her mane is a mess. Pinky is backing away into a corner then sits down with a surprised look on her face as her eyes switch from Twilight and I.

“So here is where I see Crazy Twilight!” I reply and she stares at me with such a rage her cheek turn red as a whine screams in her throat.

“CRAZY!” She shouts and her horn flickers for a moment and I’m thrown of the bed and on to my feet. I look at the tiles on the ground wondering what just happened. My feet slide on the ground rotating me to face an intensely pissed of Twilight now standing on the bed bringing her to eye level. A force pushes me closer to her and I try to resist but I just glide on the slick floor. We are now face to face as I stare into her large enraged violet eyes. “You want to see crazy? I’ll show you crazy!” She says while she represses her anger. “I want you to apologize!”

I can only think of one thing to say. “Fuc-“ But before I can finish the light goes out and Twilight starts to glow in a strong purple aura. Her eyes shine a bright white light where her violent irises disappear. I back away from her and she clinches her teeth as she leers at me violently.

“WHY ARE YOU SUCH A JERK! ALL I WANT TO DO IS HELP YOU! WHY WON’T YOU LET ME!” She yells at me with multiple pitches in her voice.

“Cause this is all in my head.” I shout back.

The light turns back on and Twilight is back to normal looking down on the ground distant and hurt. She turns to me with watery eyes. “We’re not in your head Chester. Not anymore!” She says and I feel Pinky Pie brushing up against my leg. I look down at her as she up look at me still with a chipper expression on her face.

“You stuck with us!” Pinky tells me and shows me a wide joyful grin. I feel an empty space in my chest and colder than I should.

The door opens and Doctor McHale steps through the threshold surprised to see me standing in the middle of the room.

“Mr. Wentworth!” His eyes shift and I see manufactured expressions of contentment. “Can you take a seat.” He gestures to the bed. Twilight stunned and nervous steps back on the bed giving me space. I take my seat and he takes his on a chair next to the counter with a folder in his hands as he looks at it solemnly. He takes a breath and Pinky jumps on the bed and sits next to Twilight behind me. “We-we checked the MIR results so many times then the machine and.”

“And what?” I ask.

“Nothing!” He says coldly.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“You and a tumor.” He says painfully and I feel the empty space in my chest grow.

“But I thought you said that the MIR didn’t show anything?”

“It didn’t, but the Iodine mapping did. We found a large mass pressing against you medulla oblongata. For some reason the MIR can’t catch the tumor. As large as it is, It’s just invisible. I never came across something like it.” He rubs his hand over his face and grunts. “ Today has me full of questions. I had that kid from the construction accident come in. Fell twenty stories from the side of the building and somehow ended on the fifth floor with minor burns on his hands and bruises.” He says looking blankly at the wall. I turn around to see pair of ponies shattered by the grim news.

“Can you take it out?” I ask.

“It’s inoperable. Its roots travel from the medulla oblongata to the cerebral cortex. The risk of survival in this situation is beyond slim. I’m sorry!” He slumps over on the chair with his hands limp. “Do you have any family to talk to?” He asks.

“I’m not on speaking terms with them.” I respond remembering the resentment.

“You could make peace.” I look at the ground feeling Twilight’s head lean against me back. She moves under my arm and lies on my lap. Pinky forces herself under the other arm and leans against my chest. I feel their warms as they breathe softly. “If you can’t make peace, I believe you should be grateful for the friends you got.” The doctor says looking at me with a tired expression.

My eyes sting again resending the pain across my head stronger. I can’t move or say anything. Light burns brighter till it blinds. I fall back into the bed unable to breathe convulsing as my eyes roll back into my head. I choke on nothing trying to gasp for air.

“CODE BLUE! CODE BLUE!” The DR. McHale yells and an alarm sounds off.

“Chester! Please, Chester! Stay with me!” Twilight cries out.

Everything turns to black. I’m surrounded by thick darkness as I try to walk through. I spread my arms to feel around but only grasping air. I step on something that folds my ankle tripping me to my knees. The lights turn back on and I’m back in my apartment. The red painted walls, my lamp with a dirty shade, my sweet wet bar. I look down on the ground seeing the object that caused my fall and pick it pick up. A silver locket with a violet flower in the center. It’s beautifully engraved and heavy for a small item.

I push myself off the ground and fall into my leather chair. I study the locket noticing that it seems familiar. I push my thumb nail into the top opening it hearing a soft melody like a music box. I let it play until it music dies abruptly. I close it and my apartment walls disappear into the darkness. I jump off my chair looking around as everything starts to vanish. One by one, the items that make up my home fade into nothing. All that is left is my coffee table and a light beaming straight over it. A scotch glass sits on the table alone with something other than liquor. I grab the glass and raise closer seeing round pills and razors filling the glass.

Other familiar items, but their are all too familiar.

Suddenly my arms feel a slash riding upward from the palm to the bicep. I drop the glass and it doesn’t break, just falls flat on the floor with little wobble. Blood starts to seep through my business shirt and drip on the floor. My lungs start to burn as they are filled up with a liquid that forces its way out my mouth. I vomit a steady stream of pure bourbon not showing any signs if stopping as it burns my insides like acid. Drowning from my own thirst I fall onto the floor grabbing at my throat feeling my lung screaming for air.

I look at the cup of pills and razors and empty it out on to the wet ground. I toss the glass and it shatters and I grab at the razors but only grab at the floor. Everything in the glass is now imprinted on the black floor where I bleed blood and spew alcohol. There is nothing left, nothing left but broken glass. I crawl to it feeling the suffocation taking its toll as I struggle to move with coordination but with weak trembles.

I pick up a shard of glass roll onto my back. The sharp cutting my fingers I bring it to my neck and drag it a across opening a passage where blood and booze flows strongly at an attempt of relief. I lay in the dark drowning in my own vice. I close my eyes as I slip away.

“Chester!” Twilight’s voice faintly ricochets around.

“Get the paddles, he’s not responding!”

“Get an intravenous line on him and give him a shot of adrenalin! We need to restart his heart!”

“I’m not getting a pulse!”

“Chester, please” I stare into Pinky’s sad scared blues eyes as she look down into mine. “I’m sorry if I was mean to you before.” My vision fades in and out like a dying flame.

I move my head and see Twilight’s eyes flowing clear tears down her cheeks as she sobs. She lowers her head next to mine.

“Call it. He’s gone. Time of death four forty-three.”

“I forgive you!” Twilight whispers into my ear.

I gasp for air seeing a blinding light that stings my eyes.