//------------------------------// // 21 // Story: Happiness Is What You Make Of It // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// Saying goodbyes is never great, but seeing the three mares wave at me as they left the premises and the garden gate slammed shut behind them warmed me up so much that not even the slowly falling snow could dent my optimism. I will get better, no matter what, and when the barracks are back I will be the best floor cleaner they could ever get. Or the cheapest like before, both options work for me. The painting class must be over by now, so I head straight to my room to continue my little bowl of fruit project there. “Dey deednt forget me, Steeches, but dey told me yoo dont tolk. Dat meens mai hed ees weerd sumwat.” Painty paint paint. “But dey sed Ai cud cleen floors agen end dere wud eevn be a room for me so det Ai wudnt hev to sleep een d boiler uan on d floor. Ai wud probably sleep on d floor enywey, d raydeeyo sed eets gud for d bek, end eevn wen Ai burned maiself mai bek deednt hurt much. Dats prevenshun.” Now if I just dip the tip of my hoof in yellow paint, and then do a little swipe, I get a... banana shaped smudge. Alright, let’s try again. I just gotta keep trying no matter what so that I’m good enough when the cleaning time comes again. I’m not sure how painting can help me with eventual mopping of the floors, but what I’m doing is essentially making mess. Maybe this will help me see into the mind of the enemy. *Click* “Greyscale!” Chiseled Chin enters accompanied by two wardens, all of them looking sternly at me- “Aaah!” I dive backwards, splattering paints everywhere. -and at Stitches watching me from the bed. Correction - at Stitches lying on the bed now completely messed up with paints under myself. From the unamused looks of the wardens and Chiseled Chin, I get a clear idea that any attempt at pretending Stitches wasn’t here is doomed to fail. “Give me the toy, Greyscale.” Aaand now I’ve managed to make Stitches’ coat yellow. She takes him from my reluctantly easing grasp. “But hee deednt trai anyteenk enymore. Ai nou he tolked nau, end he doesnt enymore. Ai ken undrstand teengs nau… a bit. Mai hed wont get mee enymore.” “Oh really?” “Reely. Grei Shrain sed Ai cud do eet, so Ai hev to trai mai best.” “Really? Are you absolutely certain the bad part of your head can’t make you do things you wouldn’t want to do?” “Mhm!” I nod with vehement determination. “I see. So what if I told you you nearly got yourself badly hurt again?” “Huh, hau, wen?” “When you snuck into the cellars. There is a griffon-made security system down there. Each entry has a time limit in case of stolen keys, and you were lucky to get out before the time was up. Wardens know what to do in case of longer activities down there, and how to act in case the security kicks in. The air conditioning slows down when nopony is supposed to be inside. You could have suffocated.” “Ai deednt nou...” “No, you didn’t, but deep inside you realized the security was stronger down there than anywhere else in Border Glades. Some part of you, the bad part, lured you into a potentially very dangerous area.” “Ai… Ai...” “You are a nice pony, Greyscale. Doctor Insight knows that, your guard friends know that, and everypony you’ve met in here knows that. Pyre and Drizzle feel a lot better these days, even though their treatment was supposed to be significantly longer. Interaction with you caused something to change inside them faster than our best psychiatrist could force.” “Ai deed noteeng speshul. Ai meen Ai just tolked to dem-” “BUT,” than one loud word feels like a crack of a whip, “the wrong part of you made you lie and steal, Greyscale. Do you understand? You broke into where you weren’t supposed to be. That’s not only a violation of the rules, but of the law. Then you stole a rightfully confiscated item, one taken away from you for the good of your mental health. On top of that, you lied to the guards. Worse yet, to your friends. Tell me again about you being able to control your dangerous impulses?” “But- but- but… Steeches deednt do anyteenk. Ai meen… deed ai reely do all dat? Ai… deed...” “Stitches didn’t do anything, because he is a plushie, a toy, not a living creature. The bad part of you is using him- IT as leverage to make you do things you shouldn’t be doing. Everything you did was because of the toy. That’s why I must take it from you no matter what.” That makes sense. Everything makes sense. “Teik him den. Ai wos stoopid, Ai teenk. Yoo ar professhunals. Aim just… dum.” To my utter amazement, the rock-hard nurse runs her hoof through my regrowing purple mane. “No, Greyscale. You are very smart, as doctor Insight said. Smart enough to understand the root of the problem, and even enough to willingly help us help you. That is why I hate doing this, but I have to.” “Doeeng wot?" “When you can think clearly, you are in a good shape, but we need to build a reflexive negative response inside you when faced with certain stimuli.” “Ken yoo sey eet a bit seempler?” “Of course. You are being sent to solitary confinement for several days as a punishment for stealing a confiscated item so that it doesn’t happen again.” “But Ai wont do eet again nau det Ai nou wots reely happeneeng.” “I wish I could believe you, but I can’t. All this happened whenever you stopped focusing and acted on impulse. We need to build a negative impulse in you to counteract that. Consider this another treatment, a more unpleasant one.” “Ai see. Alrite, Ai gess dere ees nou odder way. Ai tought Ai cud do eet, but Ai wos already faileeng.” Without resistance, I follow the trio down to a room on the ground floor I have passed many times before and always pondered the strange, padded, concave door which looks more like it should slide open instead of swinging. It slides open. Ha haa! Chiseled Chin walks around the circular room, showing me its rather meager contents. Toilet, shower, drain, sponge, soap. No bed. “Comfee.” “Physical discomfort isn’t this room’s purpose. You’re here to be completely alone, with no contact or sounds from the outside. On top of that, as you can see there are no faculties for amusement. You will be left here on your own, unable to go anywhere for several days, alone with the thoughts in your head. I have… doubts this is a good idea in your case, but doctor Insight is the expert here.” That doesn’t seem too much of a punishment. “Do Ai just sleep den?” “It’s up to you how you pass the time, but the boredom and loneliness is the punishment. It can be more effective than any pain.” “Do Ai get sum food?” She gives me a shocked look. “Of course!” “Alrite.” I mean, I can see it, because I’ve been feeling lonely for a while before the visit, and sitting in one spot without having anything to do seems grueling, but as far as punishments go this doesn’t feel as bad. I could have been smacked. As they turn to leave, I have to clear up one thing. “Ken Ai ask sumteeng?” “What is it?” “How deed yoo faind aut Ai stole Steeches?” “You told it to your friends. The visitation rooms are monitored in case a patient loses control and wardens have to step in. That, or if a visitor tries to give a patient something they shouldn’t get. You’d be surprised how often that happens. For such purpose there are both cameras and microphones. We are, of course, bound by laws to keep any and all secrets to ourselves, but within the walls of Border Glades we are allowed to use the information for better treatments.” “Waaau, end yoo ken tell me dat?” “As I said, I believe you are doing your best to help us help you. I don’t mind sharing that information with you.” “Tank yoo for beleeveeng een mee.” “We always do our best to cure our patients, even though our methods may sometimes seem harsh. See you in several days, and then we’ll know which voice in your head is the strongest.” The door shuts, and the overwhelming silence drowns out everything other than my own breathing. This is… terrifying. For as long as I remember, I’ve been surrounded by noises of ponies. Either guards stomping their horseshoes around the barracks, or the sounds of a waking city. The closest to complete silence was when I woke up early in my box and went to have a soak in the fountain, and even then there were other ponies walking around, dizzy after waking up. “Helou,” I wave a foreleg into the empty room. A bit of noise, and then complete silence... ...and more breathing. Guess I’ll just have to amuse myself for the time being. Any voices in my head wanting to join me? No? Alright. That’s... good, I think? *** It’s weird. It’s weird. It’s weird. It’s weird. It’s weird. Aaaaaaaaa! I want some sound. “Dis ees sou weerd!” Waaaait a minute. “Ol Ai need to do ees tolk den. Ummm… lets maik up a storee.” That could help pass time, but I don’t think I’ll remember the parts I make up long enough to craft something reasonable. Let’s put that plan on a back burner, since I don’t know how long I’m going to be here. So, what do I have at my disposal? The room is pure white and circular. There are no edges anywhere in sight, not even where the floor meets the walls, every corner being a U shape instead. There is soft padding on everything, and the floor, while firm when I walk on it, proves soft as I jump experimentally against the wall, bounce off and then flop several times across the pillowy padding. It doesn’t even hurt despite it being rather disorienting. Similar to my normal room, there is a drain in the middle and the floor is very slightly sloping towards it. That would explain the small square of ceiling with tiny holes in it Chiseled Chin pointed out - it has to be the shower. How do I activate it? I stand right under it and wave at the hidden nozzle. Something flashes green, and- “Blrblrblblbl-” -I’m greeted with a torrent of warm water. Examination over, I step away from under the ceiling nozzle, and the water stops immediately. Pretty cool, I must admit. Plus, the rushing water actually made at least a little noise that wasn’t just me moving around. All that water makes me look for a toilet, and indeed there is a bulge in the floor which upon examination reveals to be a lid covering a porcelain bowl with a larger hole in the middle and many small around the circumference. On the bottom of the lid there is a button. “Ah hah!” I push it to confirm my suspicion. Waters starts flowing from the smaller holes, flushing everything down. So, we have a toilet, a shower, and… some strange small bulge in the wall somewhere between the two. Well, it makes sense to poke it, doesn’t it? It squirts out a white blob of goop which smells like strawberries. Food paste? “Bleeeh.” My second attempt at determining the matter’s use is vastly more successful. It has to be soap, edible like the paints so that patients wouldn’t hurt themselves even in here. Now this would be the right time for a great shower, if only I had a sponge. Huh, I do, actually. I almost missed it, but there’ a brick-sized block of firm but mushy white stuff which absorbs water pretty well next to the toilet lid. I wonder... Kicking the water-filled sponge, I watch it bounce from the wall across the room. Now… can I kick it from there and make it hit the soap dispenser? Pretty soon, I’m playing a makeshift version of a single player hoofball by trying to kick the sponge into various things or places on the walls which I mark with the soap. It isn’t always easy to see the target in the white room, but imagination is the best partner in situations like this. “Greyscale twentee-uan hits, forty-sevn meeses. Not bed for first seshun. Wooo, Ai need a shaur.” The concave door clicks and slides open. “What in seven circles of Tartarus happened here?” doctor Clear Insight stops himself before stepping on the slippery floor and just peeks inside. “Me end spungee were playeeng hoofbol. Well, spungee wos d bol.” He looks at the dripping sponge near the drain. “Nothing brings you down, I see. To be quite honest, I’m not sure whether that’s a good or a bad thing. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and say it’s the former. Wait, you named your sponge… did it talk to you?” “Nou, ol Ai ded wos tolk to maiself. Eets reely quiet heer.” “That is the point, actually. Even me being here is detrimental to the negative reinforcement treatment, but I have something important to ask if you don’t mind.” “Gou on.” “First, let me give you a bit of praise, Greyscale. Patients undergoing punishment, or negative reinforcement treatment, often refuse to even communicate with us. This reassures me that you are indeed a smart pony who just needs a little push in the right direction.” “Tank yoo.” “So, here goes - how did you get to the Lost and Found section of the cellars?” Oh dear. What do I say? I can’t lie, can I? He’s a smart pony and he’ll know and then he’ll think I’m not helping them help me anymore and they’ll give me weird medicine and poke me with electricity sticks and- “Calm down, Greyscale, please. It’s important that you tell me so that no other patients can get hurt by going in there. Telling me can save a life before we can reorganize the security.” Okay, if I tell the truth, something bad might happen to Quick Trick, and he’s been helping me whenever I needed something. It was my fault I wanted stupid things which could have put me or others in danger. He couldn’t have known my head was making me do weird things. But if I lie… I’ll forget eventually what I said and then… then they’ll all be mad at me and throw me out because they’ll think I’m beyond healing. No, no matter what that might mean to me I can’t cause pain to others with my mistakes. “Ai- Ai faund d kee een a flaur pot een d hallwey. Ai recognayzed wot eet wos from wen Ai helpd Washfool bring peint teengs too mai room.” Clear Insight stands there, watching me. I smile at him, because why not? It can’t make his day worse, only better. “I see, and where is the key now?” “Ai put eet bek, sumponee mite be lookeeng for eet.” “Well, you know… that’s pretty much what I would expect from you. Which flowerpot, Greyscale?” What’s a place which would not incriminate anypony because of too much possible traffic? “D hallwey on d graund floor, neer d lobbee.” “Thank you for your cooperation, Greyscale,” he turns to leave, and stops, his horn glowing, “I almost forgot something, a little reward for being such a good, although a little troublesome patient.” “Wot ees eet?” A patch of air in front of me wobbles, and my eyes go wide. “Steeches?!” I gasp, watching the appearing plushie float onto my back. Well, not all the way, I’m not made of rubber. “Nopony should be completely alone, Greyscale, ever.” He walks out, reaching for something on the wall outside. “Doktor?” “Yes, Greyscale?” I take a deep breath. It’s starting to make much more sense now. I am sick, and all the ponies around me are simply trying to help. I misunderstand and misconstrude things I see, but… ...they all believe in me. “Aim soree for maikeeng yoo woree. Eklips told me Steeches wos a normal plooshee, so Ai nou yoo were rite about mai hed. Ail stay heer as long as eet taiks end get bettr,” I give the unicorn the most determined stare I can. “Glad to hear that, and I sincerely hope your devotion holds strong through all this. Now, it is time for your treatment.” He nods, and with a hiss and slide the door closes, stopping all outside noise once again. It’s eerie and creepy, making me wonder how long I’m to be locked- WHO CARES?! I’ve got Stitches and Spongy. Hoofball time! *** It’s been four days, I think. Time doesn’t really mean much in here, and I slept a bunch of times. However, they slide a tray of food three times per day through a slot in the door, so that helped me count. Still, when I turn the lights off via another pokey bulb by the door, it’s dark. When I turn them on, it’s light. I can make artificial days as long as I want. I. Have. Become. A. God. Well, no, but it would be funny. Free boxes for everypony! Well, griffons too. I heard they like shredding the cardboard ones into pieces for some reason. It’s the cat part of them, I think. Regenerating boxes, full of bird feed. I’m a genius. What about minotaurs? Double size wooden boxes. Hah, easy. Oh, and I would fix my speech so that everypony can understand me easy. I’d be able to fix everything, even polish the scratched stone floors of the barracks which always resisted all my cleaning attempts. Hmmm, I’d have to remake the barracks first, but if I did that I would be taking work from the ponies currently rebuilding it the normal way, and they need the bits. Could I pay them in boxes, extra waterproof? I’m getting distracted. That happens a lot in here. So, the second day I tried working out a lot. It wasn’t really easy with no equipment, but jumping around, some crunches, and pushups were enough to make me gasp for breath pretty quickly. Fortunately, the shower didn’t seem to run out of water so I could just relax for a while and keep going. Day three… I don’t want to recall day three. Everything hurt. I asked Stitches how guardponies do it in their training, but of course he didn’t answer. I slept the whole time. Now I can move without shaking again, at least, although everything still aches. That means I have to amuse myself in a different way. “Wat too doo? Wat too doo?” I look around during probably morning shower. I mean, I ate my breakfast when I was woken up by knocking, but I haven’t managed to do anything else. Oh, I totally forgot. They gave me a toothbrush and paste after I asked. It’s not exactly relevant at this point, but it’s important to stay clean and organized. “Ah-?!” I squeak as my weak legs slip up on the thin film of water slowly spreading towards the middle drain. As usual, I’m not hurt even in the slightest, only a bit disoriented for a moment. However, in my moment of confusion I saw the light, the revelation, the genius plan, and the project for today. Whistling to myself, I take Spongy and fill him up with the soap from the dispenser. Afterwards, I use my honed cleaning skills to lather the floor and the lower portion of the wall on about a quarter of the room. “Alrite, less gou.” Taking few steps backwards on the still dry floor to get a run-up, I lunge onto the slippery surface. “Wheee- ow ow ow ow ow ow ow- blrlbll...” Note for next time - lather everything. So, my sliding plan worked well, far too well, and I whizzed through the prepared part of the room in an instant. Unfortunately, the traction I gained on the dry surface made me tumble forwards and skip like a rock thrown across the lake. Alright, take two. This time prep the whole room including the walls about halfway up. Yeah, that sounds right. With water flowing from the shower, I get to work. What has to be several hours later, I’m pretty sure I’m done. Well, it’s been long, I’m exhausted, and I can barely keep balance as I walk around the room. Careful, careful… ...ready… ...run, jump… ...slip? “AAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” I kick my legs against the white padding to make myself go faster. More and more. Wall, door, wall, door, wall, door, blur, blur, blur, blur. *Click.* *Whoosh.* “Greyscale, you have- WHAT IN TARTARUS?!” I stop flailing my legs, flop on whatever gravity orders me to, and wait for the uncontrolled slide to end. Too bad the room just keeps on spinning. I bet it’s mad at me for making a mess all over the place. Although does it count as mess when it’s made of cleaning supplies? “Ai feel seek...” I mumble. “Don’t go inside. I have no idea what happened here, but since Greyscale looks like he’s about to throw up I’m guessing he tried to make a slide.” Hydra that be has to. Chin.. Chiseled... “You know, I should be surprised he succeeded with basically no tools, but for some reason I am not.” Shrine said Grey must that have. Grey… wait Shrine? I shake my head, try to stand up, and keel over on my side. Visit soon another so? “Helou- urk!” I shove my hoof into my mouth to stop my stomach from escaping. I still need it. “Take him to his room and bring painting supplies,” orders Grey Shrine in a stern tone. “Yes, officer,” says Chiseled Chin, “Wardens, take him and be careful when coming inside so that you don’t end up like him,” she turns back to Grey Shrine wearing an official-looking white and gold vest, “I am greatly against you interfering with our treatment methods.” “So you keep repeating, nurse, and now that I see the result I’m not sure I can take your opinion seriously.” “Officer!” “That was a joke, nurse. I know about this institution’s record, and I don’t intend to spread any incorrect information. In fact, that is what I need Greyscale for.” “Bllrhglr,” I gurgle as a set of strong forelegs picks me up and puts me onto something soft that has to be a pony back. As I feel the fresher air of the outside corridor, I spot a spinning cyan and grey blur which waves at me… or something. “Hello again, Greyscale.” “Bllluhh,” I greet the mare back. Over the short trip upstairs, I manage to somewhat recover my senses, and when the warden carrying me puts me back on the bed, I sit up after a minute of slow breathing. “Leave us alone, please,” says Grey Shrine. The two wardens, one of whom has already brought a canvas stand, a canvas, and a set of paints for patients, look at Chiseled Chin. “I must refuse, officer. This place isn’t set up for visits. I must insist that at least one of us stays here with you.” Grey Shrine clicks her teeth. “I would really appreciate if I could talk to him in private.” “You are welcome to do so in the visiting rooms, or you can try to persuade doctor Insight to find a way for you to break the rules which, I must add, are here for both your protection and the patients’.” “Hmph, and what if I stay outside with you until he does what I need him to? Any more complaints about unscheduled contact?” Chiseled Chin scowls, clearly looking for a reason to refuse Grey Shrine’s offer, but eventually shakes her head. “I suppose that is plausible, officer.” “Good,” Grey Shrine walks over to my bed, leans to my ear, and whispers, “Draw the changeling venom, Greyscale. Do you understand?” “Yoo meen d-” She puts a hoof on my muzzle. “You are smart. Just do it,” she stands back up and speaks in normal tone, “And draw something pretty as well. I’ll be back in. let’s say, half an hour. Can you make it?” “Ai teenk sou,” I nod, “Aim steel a bit woozee.” “An hour it is then. Do you need anything else?” “Nou, mem.” “Good,” she turns to leave, giving Chiseled Chin a stern look, “Nopony is to go in or out until I say so.” “You can wait in the common room-” “I will stay outside. Bring me a cup of coffee and something to sit on. I’m not as young as I once used to be.” Chiseled Chin’s hoof scrapes the floor as she grumbles defiantly, annoyed at being ordered around. I guess she’s used to being in charge, but hey, so is Grey Shrine. “As you wish.” Without adding anything else, they all leave me alone. Now it’s time to do my part and paint the box of bottles and then something pretty. Hmmm… “Blrugh?!” Alright, let’s try not to paint potato salad, or something abstract. Brown for the box, five sides… wait, no, four sides so that it’s possible to see inside. Now how do I do the bottles? Light blue outline and green blobs inside. All stocked next to each other. Let’s draw one bottle outside, because Grey Shrine didn’t want the box, but the venom bottle itself. That took embarrassingly long. Now what’s something pretty I know for the second picture before they come back? Eclipse, Piercing Hit, even Grey Shrine herself. Or Drizzle. Or the teacher ladies here in Border Glades. Oooooh… one situation comes to mind. Aww, why am I so bad at drawing ponies? The door opens as I’m trying to capture the prettiest thing I ever remember seeing. “Are you ready, Greyscale?” asks Grey Shrine. “Olmost. But d boks ees redee,” I point to the canvas I tore away and put on the table. Grey Shrine examines it from all sides while Chiseled Chin and the two wardens fan out behind her. I notice the mare quickly glance sideways and her ears flick in tune with the hoofsteps. All of a sudden, she turns around, making the trio take a step back. Then she walks over to me putting the finishing touches onto my honestly horrible creation. It’s a somewhat asymmetrical brown pony with too big head so that her yellow eyes are visible along with her medium length red mane. The darker thin red strings covering her body and parts of her backside blend together with her tail since my paints went all wrong, but I did the best I could. Grey Shrine’s mouth twists, and her eyes bulge. “Is that- is that- Piercing Hit? Wearing some sort of… a thong?” she can’t stop her snickering. “Shees weareeng eet end trayeeng to poot a dress on. Ai saw her dressed laik dat wen shee wos in a huree to get aut uan eevneeng. Shee lookd reely pretee.” “No matter what, a stallion will remain a stallion,” she chuckles, “Though I like the mix of dirty and pure in you, Greyscale.” “Ai hev to wosh maiself, troo,” I look at my colourful hooves. “I didn’t- nevermind. If I may correct something about that,” she nods to the painting, “Piercing Hit‘s backside is nowhere that big.” “Ai-” “Go wash your hooves.” “Yes, mem.” I disappear into the bathroom and clean the mess. I’ll have to remove the trails I left on the floor later, but now I guess it’s back to the slippy slide room. When I walk out, Grey Shrine is locked in a staring contest with Chiseled Chin. “Greyscale,” she says without looking at me, “Take us to where you found the box.” “You can’t just-” “As of this minute, you are under investigation for possession and experimental use of illegal substances on vulnerable members of society. Even a random mention of this will be a pretty dirty stain on the otherwise excellent reputation of your institution, no matter it being true or not. So, how about you cooperate and we make sure that these rumors are nothing more than an overactive imagination caused by some pills?” “There will be an official complaint later, officer.” Wait, is Grey Shrine betting her reputation and position on MY judgement? On my possibly broken head? No no no no no no no no no. “There is nothing I would like more than to be wrong, head nurse. Now move!” This is bad. This is bad. This is bad. This is bad. Did I really see what I think I did? Did I guess wrong what it was? Can I read? It’s all a mess now. I’m just a pony who thought a plushie was talking to him. Heck, I just created a water slide that made me sick. Why does she trust me this much? I’m just dumb. Please don’t make it so that- When I get to that point of my worried internal monologue, we enter the door I went through by mistake… or at least I think I did. The room is empty of any and all crates. All there is are shelves by the walls stocked with random assortment of old plates, cutlery, blankets, and other odds and ends. “This room is currently used as a temporary storage for anything to be replaced later. When our next shipment of coal for the central heating arrives all this will be full.” Grey Shrine wordlessly walks around, examining every inch of the area. “Can I explore the other storerooms?” she asks with much less certainty than before. “Not without a search warrant,” answers Chiseled Chin sternly, then she sighs, “I see what must have happened here and I, to be honest, applaud you for caring for your friend.” “What do you mean?” “You sent poor Greyscale here after a suicide attempt, then he attempted it once again here, as you know. Doctor Insight believes Greyscale to be smarter than he is, suffering from amnesia caused by a strange case of schizophrenia. It is common for patients like that to remember events or periods of time which didn’t happen at all. In Greyscale’s case it must have happened because one of the wardens took him along into the cellars, which is how he knew what this place looks like. What he didn’t tell you because he didn’t know at the time, was that this was yet another self-harm attempt.” “Huh?” Grey Shrine looks at me, completely confused now, “Is that true, Greyscale?” “Ai- Ai dont nou. Dey told me afterwards. Ai hed nou aydeeya. Ai promeese.” “No, he must have known on some level, either from a mention by the wardens or passing remark by somepony else. You see, there is a security system which controls the flow of air down here. Do you hear the humming?” Grey Shrine nods. “Those are fans responsible for the circulation of air. They are running on the lowest setting when the lights are off and the main cellar door is locked. Normally, there wouldn’t be much trouble for anypony stuck here because wardens and nurses come here often, but a patient intent on being unseen and staying here all night or maybe longer?” “He could choke to death and not even notice anything other than being sleepy.” “Exactly. That’s why everypony is under strict orders to never leave the door unlocked. Of course, if somepony notices anything unusual we can control the air flow from upstairs, but Greyscale has already proven… very resourceful.” Please no. “Yes, he has. Greyscale, is it true?” “Ai- Ai dont nou. Ai saw d bokses. Ai- Ai dont nou aneemore,” my eyes mist over and I sit down. She’s going to get demoted for trusting me. This is what happens when ponies try to interact with me. I always screw up. Always, “But but Ai got Steeches, Ai deednt maik eet up-” “No, you didn’t imagine all of it,” Chiseled Chin walks over and pats my head, “That’s how we know you tried to hurt yourself, because you really got in here, and you were this close to going to sleep and never waking up again.” “Ai- Ai- waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,” I start wailing. I tried to hurt myself again. I hurt everypony around me. I always mess everything up. Aim dum. Aim krayzee. Ai dont nou wots reel. Ai imejined most of dat. Steeches never tolkd. Ai shud hev died een d fayr. Ai shud hev stebbd maiself harder. AI SHUD HEV DUN SUMTEENG PROPERLEE FOR UANCE. “Come on, don’t cry, Greyscale,” Chiseled Chin sits down to me and hugs me, “You, officer.” “Y- yes?” “One of the wardens will show you each storage room. You can look, but please don’t touch anything. I think it’s time to put all this to rest. I’ll stay here with the poor guy. He needs it.” “I- alright.” I don’t see anything, I can barely hear them talk through my sniffling and crying. By the time Grey Shrine returns, I’ve calmed down a little, but I tear up again when she looks away as I try to catch her stare. “I apologize for my intrusion,” she says slowly, each word feeling like a spike through my chest, “Feel free to file your complaint. I must be losing my edge.” “I think that if we just forget this it will be the best,” Chiseled Chin lowers her voice, sounding truly comforting for the first time ever. Grey Shrine just nods, still refusing to look at me. I mean, why should she? “Wardens, escort the officer upstairs while I take Greyscale back to his room. I think the solitary confinement can wait few minutes,” Chiseled Chin taps my neck, “I can carry you if you don’t want to walk.” I don’t want to be carried. I don’t want for anypony to bother with me anymore. My legs are tired but fine, so I can at least walk if my head is worthless. I will do it alone, just like it should have done since the beginning. “Nou, Ail wolk. Tank yoo for d offer.” “Come on, then.” Grey Shrine leaves without a goodbye. Good. She’s much better off like this. Back in my room, there’s one last thing to take care of. I roll up both paintings and toss them in the trash. “We ken gou bek daun, mees Shin.” Dreaming for a while was nice, but it’s time to return back to my reality.