Behind Him

by ExplosionMare

Temporary Solution

Granite held, in his left hoof, the knife he laid out last night and in his right, his medication. He fumbled with them both, weighing their individual consequences. One was obviously more positive than the other, but both solutions, in reality, were only temporary. Either choice would eventually lead back to Thorns.

Squeak!

Granite’s ears twitched at the sudden noise from outside, distracting him from the objects. He went out to investigate the noise, trotting cautiously in case somepony was there. He cracked open the front door, revealing not a single pony nor creature nearby. Granite looked around bemusedly for a moment, searching for the sound's origin. He soon discovered it came from his mailbox, seeing that the lid wasn't shut all the way. Shaking his head stupidly, Granite let out a relieved chuckle and reached into the mailbox to retrieve his mail. Once he got what he needed, he slipped inside and shut the door behind him.

The only item that was in the mailbox was a letter. The envelope was sealed neatly, but the letter itself was worn and scratched as if it had been redrafted dozens of times. It read:

Hey, Granite!

I can tell something’s going on and I’m worried. I think it would be good if you talked about it, even if you only shared a little information. I don’t wanna pressure you, so you only say what you want to. We can go somewhere besides each other's houses if that helps.

How about we go out for smoothies? If you have any other ideas on where to go, feel free to share them. That was just my idea.

- Pencil Pouch

Granite smiled. Despite all that he was going through and despite the paranoia he felt creeping up to the surface, he deeply appreciated what Pencil was trying to do. He felt he just had to take her up on her offer.

“Maybe she could help me. M-Maybe I could finally—“

Stay at home. Lie down somewhere. Let red free your mind. Thorns interrupted calmly, speaking as if Granite was a houseguest.

Granite was torn. He wanted to follow Pencil’s advice but felt beckoned by Thorns like a child being called to supper. Unenthusiastically, Granite went back to the bathroom, knowing Thorns would expect him there.

He sat himself down to look at the objects again. After being removed from the objects for a while, his mind had the clarity it lacked previously. He held the objects with more certainty this time, knowing full well what to do with them. Immediately, he chose one item and set the other gently on the bathroom counter.

“I can keep both of them happy this way,” Granite thought aloud.

Granite was ready to use his item, but found himself short of breath before he could start. He had selected the knife. He wasn’t ready to use it. He couldn’t use it, not after his arm began to tingle all over, sensing the blade like a metal detector. The memories of the past began to flood again, much more rapid than before. It was like a thousand images were being shown to him all at once.

Granite grasped at the counter desperately, trying to cling onto something real. The cold tile brought him back to reality, slowing his rapid breathing into longer, calmer breaths. He ran a hoof through his mane, clasping at the thick strands all covered in sweat. Once he was fully able to calm down, Granite sat up and began compromising with himself.

J-Just don’t do it there. Do it somewhere else and do it smaller Granite instructed himself.

Steadying the blade, Granite pointed the knife just below his right shoulder. Targeting the spot he wanted, he briskly swiped the blade across. Examining it, Granite was worried he would have to try again, but in a few short seconds, blood began to flow. He sensed Thorns’ presence, watching and wavering. Looking up, Granite saw what could only be described as pride on Thorns’ face. His smile was soft and sweet but his eyes were fierce and hungry.

“This isn’t bad. It was small and it was enough for him. It’ll be okay!” Granite tried to tell himself. He curled himself up in the fetal position as the blood began to drip down the side of his arm. He buried his head in his forelegs, waiting in anguish for the wound to clot.

---

Before the afternoon began, Granite tended to his garden out front to prepare each blossom for the day’s sales. He gathered his supplies and headed to the middle of the garden first, which was the spot designated for flowers meant to be sold right away. He began with the routine watering and nurturing of the plants. He took the watering can over to each flower patch and showered them, the flowers swaying appreciatively. Once each flower was covered in droplets, Granite patrolled in rehearsed circles through the soil, checking each row for any imperfections. A few of the stems needed a light trimming, he noticed.

Deep down, Granite always hated this part of gardening. It made him feel like a flower dentist. However, he knew that it was better to make his flowers momentarily uncomfortable in exchange for a perdurable well-being. Despondently, Granite took to clipping the bedraggled blossoms, softly shushing them as they cried out in barely-audible frequencies. A strong aura of fear surrounded the flower bed but was soon settled as the snap of the pliers grew silent.

“I know you guys don’t like getting trimmed, but doesn’t it feel so much better when it’s done? Alright, if everyone else can cooperate, this won’t take long at all!” he said encouragingly to the rest of the garden.

---

Pencil had arrived at Granite’s house just moments after he finished closing up shop. Granite figured she would show up here since her schedule was a lot more flexible. She seemed cheerful, but Granite could see the pity in her eyes, even from the distance she was at. He covered up the scratch on his shoulder, feeling immediately ashamed for creating it. If she were to see it, Granite knew the little cheer she had in her disposition would fade. As Pencil reached the front of the flower stand, Granite did his best not to look troubled. He gave his friend a kind smile and asked,

“Hi, Pencil. So, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah! And don’t worry about money, I’ll pay for everything!”

“Thanks,”

The two ponies sauntered off towards the smoothie stand, staring hopefully across the horizon.

---

Pencil thanked the smoothie mare, gave her a decent tip, then sat down at the table Granite had picked out. She took a brief moment to get comfortable on her seat before she started drinking her orange smoothie. Both her and Granite agreed orange was an odd choice, especially compared to Granite’s strawberry drink, but Pencil still thought it was delicious.

The two sat quietly for a moment, slowly sipping on their smoothies. They took pauses every now and then to avoid brain freeze, but other than that, they didn’t look up from their cups. The awkward silence hung heavily around them, souring the pleasant atmosphere of the shopping district. It wasn’t until their smoothies were nearly finished that somepony broke the silence.

“Why has moving out made everything so difficult?” Granite huffed. “I know part of it’s being alone, but it’s not like I haven’t been alone before!”

“Maybe you’re just stressed about managing all your new expectations,” Pencil reasoned. “I think you’re afraid of messing up and having to move back in with your parents. You haven’t messed up, though! From what I’ve seen, you’ve been handling things pretty well, especially with your business,”

“Hmm, that’s something to consider. I still can’t understand why I’m having more ‘issues’ than normal, though,”

“Have you been taking your medicine?” Pencil hoped the question didn't sound bossy.

“Yeah! Too much of it, actually. I’m scared I’m gonna overdose on accident one day. I feel like I need to take it all the time. It’s like no matter how often I take it, it doesn’t help much,”

“Maybe you just need a stronger dose,”

“Yeah, I guess I can ask about that,”

“Uh, so, is there a-anything else going on? Anything else I can h-help with?” Pencil tapped her hooves together timidly as she waited for Granite to respond.

Granite’s immediate reaction was to touch the shoulder he had sliced into earlier. He so badly wanted to push back the curtain of soft fur and reveal the garish flesh beneath. Exposing it, however, would only bring Thorns back with his scornful, penetrating eyes. Granite couldn’t bare to look into them again, not if he was going to disappoint. Instead, he told Pencil,

“No...everything’s just been...tough. I just need to find some relief,”

“Well, uh, i-if you wanna get your mind off stuff, we can go do something else!”

“How about we take a walk through town?”

“Sure!”

---

The sun was setting on Sire’s Hollow, emanating a warm orange glow across the buildings and everything surrounding them. The path was blanketed in soft, cool shadows that stretched across the trail. Granite felt more secure out here than he did at the shop. The air was far less dense and occupied. He looked over at Pencil, who was currently detangling the ends of her mane with her magic. He couldn’t tell if her mane was really bothering her that much or she was just stalling conversation. All Granite could really comprehend is that she wasn’t going to speak until he did.

Granite pondered for a moment, unsure of what to say. Millions of thoughts came to his head yet none could translate into words. Granite knew, though, that if he said nothing at all, he would cause his friend a lot of worry. He looked around a moment for something to talk about, eventually finding it within his surroundings.

“It feels so much better outside than at the shop. Easier to breath, easier to, uh, think...” Granite spoke.

Pencil nodded, indicating that she was listening. Noticing this, Granite continued.

“I-I’ve just felt so much more...intense than I did before I moved out. It’s like now that I’m isolated with Thorns, he’s had more time to, um, ‘connect’ with me. He’s noticed how stressed I’ve been lately, too,” Granite explained.

“What’ve you been all stressed about?” Pencil asked.

“I-I don’t know, uh...doing more on my own, how my parents are handling everything, things like that,”

“That’s normal, I think,”

“It would be normal if he didn’t turn my normal thoughts into stressful ones, too,”

“I’m sorry,”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,”

“We wouldn’t be out here if I wasn’t a little worried about you,” Pencil winked.

“That’s true. Well, I guess all I can say is this: everything feels off. Staying home feels odd, going out feels off, really doing anything now feels off! I’m worried all the time that Thorns is gonna make me think or do something awful. And the more I worry about him, the more he shows up! It’s like I’m just...stuck!”

Granite soon felt the weight of his previously suppressed emotions. He had to stop in his tracks for a moment as he was beginning to quiver. He shut his eyes tightly, suppressing the urge to cry. He was not going to break down in front of Pencil again.

Pencil had stopped as well once she no longer heard the soft rustling of Granite’s hooves through the grass. She peered over her shoulder and noticed something was wrong with her friend. Tentatively, she walked up to him to gauge what was bothering him. Pencil felt the need to say something, but could not think of anything useful. All she could do was watch as Granite sobbed under his breath. The longer he cried, the worse Pencil felt about the situation. She was about to finally overcome her shyness and speak to him, but Granite's fit of sorrow had ceased. Pencil would have felt relieved had it not been for the weird expression that appeared on his face. It was like something had just dawned on him.

Granite’s ears flickered towards the back of the trail. He could sense Thorns’ presence though he was not yet visible. Granite couldn’t hold him back for much longer. It was time for him to leave.

“I think I’m ready to head back, how about you?” Granite suggested.

“Okay,” Pencil said, her voice cracking.

“I’m sorry, Pencil, this was stupid—“

“Granite, it was not stupid!” she snapped. Granite jumped at how frustrated she sounded. “Coming out here had to have helped you a little bit! You were a lot more open to me than last time,”

“I was?” Granite asked, bewildered.

“Yeah! Give yourself some credit!”

“Hehe, okay! Alright, I guess I could try that!”

Granite strode towards the buildings that were mere silhouettes now that the moon was beginning to replace the sun. If he had time, he would have gazed at Luna's sky longer, but as much as he wanted to continue enjoying the scenery, he had an obligation to fulfill. He had to act quickly unless he wished to suffer the consequences.

"Hey!” Pencil exclaimed, pulling Granite to the side. Though resistant at first, he stopped trying to break free once he saw Pencil’s friendly gaze.

“First, slow down a bit! You’re going too fast!” she huffed. “Second...whenever you wanna hang out again, just let me know. We don’t have to talk about stuff, we can just do friend things,”

Granite smiled at her. It was sweet that no matter how tricky their friendship could get, she still wanted to spend time with him.

“I'll get back to you on the second thing,” he replied.

With that, he and Pencil continued their journeys back home. Granite had slowed down to match Pencil’s pace, but stayed on his invisible course. He knew not where he was going nor did he understand the involuntary movements of his hooves. However, he knew his body and mind were coincided, so he would not get lost.

---

Pencil believed she had made progress with her friend but was still very concerned about him. She could tell having the chance to talk really helped, but the worry of something bigger occurring behind the scenes gnawed at her. By the way Granite was looking at her today, he was not just stressed out: he was terrified.

How big is this problem? I know he’s worried about all the new changes in his life, but this is going too far. What’s he really dealing with? she thought.

Pencil spun a few strands of her curls, unraveling them in the process. She clamped and unclamped her jaw furiously. She spun in semicircles in her desk chair, hoping at least one of these bad habits would settle her nerves. Nothing worked. If Pencil was going to sleep tonight, she would have to take action again. She already sent a letter, so she would have to think of something else.

Pencil doodled at her desk for a while as she came up with ideas. She drew a mishmash of different things she had seen throughout the day. Saddlebags, insects, flowers, fruits...flowers! Sliding the page she was using away, Pencil grabbed a new one and located the bouquet Granite had given her. She had placed it on her windowsill for them to get some sun, waiting feverishly for a chance to draw the flowers. Now she finally had a chance to do so!

Pencil stroked the page with sketch marks, then filled in the line work with the most vibrant colors she owned. The petals popped off the page as if the real ones just fell on top of it and the stems were as green and crisp as if the plant had been recently watered. After Pencil spent much time adding to the piece and making edits, she signed the page then rolled it up in her saddlebag. If Pencil couldn’t solve Granite's problems directly, she could at least try to uplift him.

---

Thankfully for Granite, his predetermined path led to his house. Unfortunately, though, it did not end until he reached the bathroom. Granite groaned upon gaining full awareness of where he was. His pills and knife still lay on the counter menacingly, awaiting further use. Thorns stood by the door, encouraging Granite to walk up to the counter with a nod of his head.

Unwillingly, Granite stepped up to the counter, leaning over it to get a better look of the objects still sitting there. The pill bottle stood off to the side of the sink and the knife lay lazily inside it. Shaking his head, Granite pulled the knife out of the sink to put it back in the kitchen.

Keep the knife. Stay in the bathroom. Stimulate fresh wounds.

Granite sucked in his breath. He knew the knife could never go back in the kitchen. It was no longer a kitchen knife. Despite this, Granite knew it at least had to be washed. He would scrub it as soon as Thorns removed himself from the doorway.

Thorns, apparently, had no intention of leaving anytime soon. Granite tried to squeeze past him, but Thorns’ temperament prevented him from stepping anywhere near him or the door. It appeared that Granite was stuck in the bathroom for the night. Granite had the idea to grab his medication, but he was met with an infuriated growl before his hoof even touched the bottle. The pills were out of the question. There was still the knife of course, but Granite didn’t have it in him to use it again. Instead, Granite grabbed a towel from the towel rack and hopped into the bathtub. The tub was cramped as a bed, but Granite couldn’t complain. He had a toilet and running water if he needed it. Once Granite was able to block Thorns’ bright irises from his view, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming about orange sunsets.