Nothing to do with mlp

Therapists are essentially paid best friends. They listen to your problems, and nod sympathetically, but when it comes down to it, they really don't give a flying f*ck about you.

I would know. Because Sunny's being a pain in the ass.

"I'll still be there for you after you move to Mannville, Dawn. Let's arrange skype sessions every Friday, shall we?" she said, scribbling on her clipboard, not even looking directly at me.

A wave of nausea washed over me as I realized that perhaps, Sunny didn't really care about me beyond the fact that I was her patient. She's paid to like me. There was something mercenary about that last session with her. For the last time before I moved to Mannville, I stared at the ceiling as I lay reclined on her office couch reserved for patients like me.

I don't even understand why I'm in therapy anyway. I suppose it had something to do with the fact that I'm a genius. I'm not bragging here. People assume that genii (the term that most people incorrectly substitute with the word "geniuses") are manic depressive introverts who would someday be unable to handle their own intelligence, and decide to commit suicide. By people, I actually mean my parents, who think that the reason why I don't have friends is because I'm too smart and thus, depressed.

They found Sunny, a then 18 year old psychiatrist, who was certified a genius herself. In fact, psychiatry wasn't even her main job, she just did it for "research purposes".  Though I was unwilling to be used as a guinea pig for someone's doctoral thesis, we did bond pretty well over discussions of various aspects of my life. Eventually, we even shared research notes. She was only two years older than me after all.

I thought she was my friend.

"Dawn. When you get to Mannville, you must try to make some new friends," she stated in a toneless, clinical manner. "I want to hear of your progress every week."

"I wonder who's paying for my sessions," I thought as I continued staring at the ceiling. As far as I knew, therapy continued until somebody intervenes.

She didn't even say goodbye as I left her office, let alone give me a hug.

*

"Come on Dawn, don't be so harsh on Sunny. You do need friends."

Sam looked at me, wide eyed and innocent. He knew that was the one thing I did NOT intend to do here in Mannville. Not to mention I still haven't forgiven him for wasting half an hour of my precious time with that animated farce.

"Hmmph."

Alright, not the eloquent comeback I intended, but it showed my disdain nevertheless.

He sighed as we continued walking down the path outside the place we were living in. The library was as awesome as I thought it would be. Oh, how little it really takes to appease me. I was feeling much better after escaping that death trap of a plane. A smile was actually beginning to form at the edges of my lips, when out of nowhere, Sam starts giggling.

Now, most teenaged boys would guffaw an honest hearty laugh, or emit a small chuckle, or utter a single syllable of "hah" or "heh” . My thirteen year old brother, however, giggles, which I classify as a purely feminine thing to do.

After about thirty seconds of his sudden lapse of sanity, during which I eyed him in bewilderment, I asked him why in the world he was giggling like Jake Gyllenhaal just walked by.

"Why in the world are you giggling like Jake Gyllenhaal just walked by?"

That stopped him immediately. In return, he glared.

"I was just thinking, Dawn. You have a lot in common with that Twilight Sparkle. "

I rolled my eyes. Oh really now?

"And why is that, my little brother?"

"Come on. Black hair with pink and purple highlights? Nerdy? The resemblance is uncanny."

"Well... I don't know. I'd like to think that I'm HUMAN."

"Hey look! We reached the town square!" he exclaimed, deflecting the subject.

That was quick, I thought to myself. The town was quaint, a bit like Hogsmeade from the Harry Potter novels, and nothing like I had expected. Most of the buildings were old two-storey yellow brick affairs, which housed little antique shops that sold various items, from food to knick knacks. The building we were passing by had a wooden sign by the door which depicted a cupcake. The roofs of the buildings were thatched with straw, which was rare in this day and age.

"The tourists must love it here," I muttered to Sam. He nodded, looking around in awe.

There were stalls situated around the square outside the buildings, selling equally interesting wares. Even though Mannville was considered a small town, there were plenty of people bustling in and out of the buildings, walking up and down the boulevards leading towards various interesting places.

"Here's your chance, Dawn. Look. She looks about your age. Maybe you two will have interesting things to talk about!" Sam exclaimed out of the blue, pointing to a girl standing alone in the middle of the square.

I rolled my eyes. How many times did I have to tell him that I wasn't interested in making friends?

Nevertheless, she looked friendly. Her face was the pleasant sort, the kind that aims to make you smile looking at her. She was wearing a bright pink t-shirt with jeans, and her blond hair had streaks of pink highlights running through it.

I decided to walk up to her.

"Hello."

Her eyes grew wide. She gasped. She slowly backed away from me, and broke into a run. She ran towards the opposite direction, away from the town square. Away from me.

I felt like an idiot. My blood was rising towards my cheeks.

"Well, that was interesting alright," I muttered. Even Sam looked taken aback.

*

I groaned into my pillow, trying to drown out the music that was pounding downstairs.

The sound of the door creaking prompted me to lift my head. A figure stood illuminated in the doorway, but the harsh light was hurting my eyes. I squinted, trying to discern the shady figure.

"Why aren't you downstairs, Dawn? They're playing pin the tail on the donkey!"

It was only Sam. I couldn't recognize him because he was wearing a paper bucket on his head, the kind that you keep fried chicken wings in.

I groaned again, expressing my intense displeasure at the activities going on downstairs. I threw a pillow at his head.

He got the message and left my room.

At least I was left to my own devices again. I stared at the window which was situated next to my bed. If anything, the view outside my window was spectacular. The window overlooked the picturesque lane leading towards the town of Mannville. Eventhough it was dark, I could see the outline of the shrubbery that was growing alongside the lane.

I recalled what happened a few hours ago when Sam and I got back from our visit to the town square.

"Surprise!"

What seemed like the whole town was packed into the library. The library was decorated with bright colored streamers. The blond haired girl whom we saw earlier today was standing in the middle of the crowd. Judging from the excitement in her eyes, she seemed to be the culprit who orchestrated this event. She approached me with a spring in her step, and spoke so fast I swear she was put on fast forward.

"Hi! I'm Didi Pye and I threw this party just for you! Were you surprised? Were you? Were you? WERE YOU? Huh huh huh?"

"Very surprised," I replied, attempting to remain calm. "Libraries are supposed to  be quiet."

"Well that's silly. What kind of welcome party would this be if it were quiet? I mean... DUH.  Boring! You see, I saw you when you first got here remember? You were all "hello!" and I was all "Gasp!", remember?  You see I never saw you before, and if I never saw you before, that means you're new.  Cause I know everybody, and I mean EVERYBODY in Mannville. And if you're new, then you hadn't met anyone yet. And if you hadn't met anyone yet, you must not have any friends. And if you don't have any friends, then you must be lonely. And that made me so sad. Then I had an idea. And that's why I went "gasp"!  I just throw a great big ginormous super-duper spectacular welcome party and invite every pony in Mannville. See? And now you have lot's and lot's of friends!"

How could she speak all that without running out of breath?

I grabbed a bottle of what seems like soda from the table filled with a variety of party drinks and took a huge gulp.

Hang on. That wasn't soda.

"Are you alright, sugarcube?" I heard a voice call out to me, in a distinct Texan accent. I had drunk hotsauce instead of soda. Urgh. How embarrassing. And the back of my throat was scorching. Tears were coming out of my eyes. I ran to my room before I could embarrass myself any further.

"Aww she's so happy, she's crying!" I heard Didi squeal in the distance.

The whole situation was laughable, even to me. But laughing doesn't constitute happiness. I continued staring at the scenery outside as the bright rays of the full moon streamed through my window pane. Honestly, I was withering away. And being in Mannville, miles away from the home I've always known, didn't help.