Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-
The gentle sound of the train gliding across the tracks is the only one you hear as you slouch in your seat, staring out of the window. It's dark outside, the empty rocky plains zooming by with little to no distinguishing features or landmarks to focus on. You check your watch again. 5 am. Sounds about right. You let your head drop back, gently thumping against the backrest of the seat. There's no one else in the softly-lit car, maybe even the entire train besides the conductor, and that's fine. Everything is so nice, so peaceful. You take a moment to take everything in, slowly looking around.
The sound of the train is dulled by the gentle throbbing of your heated ears. Your head feels heavy and gently throbs as well, gently rocking along with the car. Ow, wait, looks like there's a bump growing back there. Your eye feels weird, like there's a hand constantly pushing its palm over it. Similarly, it feels like someone's pressing their middle and index fingers just above the bridge of your nose. Hmmm. Speaking of, your nose feels stuffy, and as you softly blow air out of it for a full five seconds that feeling lessens a bit. Still smells like copper though. Your right cheek feel hot and swollen, making you all too aware of your teeth. You can't help but gently nibble on the swollen flesh. Tastes like rubber. Your lower lip, which is most definitely swollen and split in the middle, tastes like copper and feels like rubber. But all these feelings are comforting. You crack your fingers with your thumb, fully stretch them out, then slowly examine them.
They both feel heavy, the wrists slightly swollen and hot. Your palms are still a bit sticky, a few smudges of blood here and there coagulating then turning to flecks as your idly rub them, smearing your fingers. Feels nice, even if most of it is yours. Your knuckles are the least pleasant feeling though, angrily throbbing as the flesh underneath is exposed for the whole world to see. The skin around them is dark red, almost black, as it struggles to crawl over the muscles and bone once more. Actually that little white part might be the bone peeking out. Or puss, maybe. How about that. Every movement from your fingers - every twitch, flex, clench- helps to maintain the throbbing pain, like waves crashing over the beach before receding back into the sea. Again and again, some waves stronger than other. Apart from the chugga-chugga-chugga, it's the only constant in your little world. Feels right.
Annoying, but right, like it's supposed to be there. Like the very air on an especially hot summer day, or the random rush of wind in the fall.Like music in a grocery store. Seriously, have you ever noticed how the whole place, the very air feels completely different once it's gone? Like the store is empty and something is wrong and you gotta get out of there fast, get out get out get out get out out out OUT -
You shake your head violently for a second, although it feels more like another twitch. It's not actually a reaction and it doesn't really help, it just feels right. A little shake, and you're back in your nice little bubble. Your sweater and your coat lie next to you, still in a heap, still both torn here and there. Your shirt is still there, the rolled up sleeves resting comfortably on your elbow. Your pants are, amazingly, still there, still stained with a few drops of blood, especially around the heels. Your shoes feel nice, like fuzzy slippers, the socks keeping your toes - which only hurt a tiny bit, compared to your ankles, once of which might be sprained. Oh well. Your shoes feel solid, although they are filthy. Gonna have to wash those first thing after a nap. A nap sounds nice.
Your whole body hurts, some parts more than others. Your clothes are warm, and this seat is comfy. Everything feels right.
"Um...excuse me ?"
You mumble out a response, surprised there was actually someone talking to you, gently rubbing your shoulder.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but...are you okay? You look like you had quite the accident."
You look at the source of the voice. It's a young unicorn mare, looking at you with some of the softest green eyes you've seen in a while, maybe ever. She's beige, almost white, just like her hair. They called it Norwegian Blonde, if memory serves. Does it? You like to think it does. Oh yeah, the mare. She's...a teen, maybe a young adult? You can't tell, because you've always sucked at guessing someone's age. You're staring at her, by the way. Maybe you should respond.
"Bohyeah-"
Woops, there's that lip acting up. One more time.
"...sorry, I mean yeah, yeah it's cool. I just fell down some stairs," you say, looking down at yourself.
"Oh gosh, really? How?" she asks, wincing in sympathy.
"Missed a step. My head was in the clouds, and next thing I know bam, down I go."
"Does it hurt?"
What do you think you dumb bitch stop looking at me like that. Punch her in the nose. Or grab her hair. Or do both. Now! Do it, she's right there!
"Oh yeah, but it's okay, it's getting better."
"Oh thank Celestia. Well we're over there, do you want to join us?" she asks, pointing behind her.
What.
You look over her shoulder, and lo and behold there's a bunch of young ponies looking at the both of you, some trying to look like they weren't staring. Five or six of them, pegasi, earth ponies and unicorns, fillies and colts. How perfectly diverse.
"Shut up," you grumble.
"I'm sorry?" she asks, cocking her head to the side.
"Oh no, sorry, just talking to myself. Um yeah, no, that's really sweet but I don't want to be a bother, I'll just stay over here for the moment, thanks," you blabber out, scratching your arm.
"You sure? It's fine, we don't mind it if you join us," she says, gently resting her hoof on your shoulder.
Get it off get it off get it off take that fucking hoof my shoulder grab it. NOW. Grab it and pull and headbutt her now fucking DO IT
"Oh no it's okay, really. Maybe later, I'm just gonna stay over here a bit longer. I've taken up too much of your time already, I'm sure your friends are waiting for you," you say with a smile, pleasantly, looking a bit embarrassed.
"Okay, well feel free to join us when you want to, no pressure," she says, smiling and turning back to her group.
"Thanks!"
'Next stop, Appleoosa' say the speakers.
WHAT
You look around erratically, your awareness of the world returning to you with all the grace and suddenness of a basketball to the face. The sun hasn't come out yet although it won't be long now, the empty station is dimly lit by a single lamppost, and before you know it you're gone again. Your eyes shoot around the room, your head moving every second. You're hyper-aware of everything now and it's way way way way way too much.
What the fuck when did they get on, where are we, when did we get on what time is it everything hurts ow ow ow OW-
Calm down calm down, calm down. Okay. Okay. Okay, assess the situation.
Okay. You're okay. There's no one else in this car, just you and the youngsters. The light is still the same, the seat is still as comfy, sweater is still there, coat clothes watch, everything is still there. 5:45 am. Huh, that went by quick.
The throbbing is gone now, but every injured part is making itself known. Nose, lip, eye, left knee, left leg, sides stomach right shoulder fingers motherfucking KNUCKLES and that's fine. We're okay guys, let's take it from the top.
The teens - or young adults or whatever they are, let's call them teens - are clearly tipsy going on drunk and clearly talking about you, not just because they're looking at you every few seconds and doing a terrible job of being subtle about it, but because teenagers in general, bless their hearts, are loud as hell and have no awareness of their environment or of how loud they are. It's annoying and it makes you mad. Does it ?
Or is that resentment, because they're young and more importantly having the fun that you didn't have because -
And we are moving right along, not gonna dwell on that. Group of friends - nope nope nooooo, moving along
It does a bit, can't exactly explain why. You don't even have to focus to hear what they're saying, it's almost the complete opposite of eavesdropping. You hear enough to get what they're saying.
Minautor ? Looks hurt. Why did you invite it ? Fun, needs friends.
We can totally take them. As a group or individually ? Both work so, whatever.
But we're not gonna that. Gotta move though, we are not staying here.
'Next stop : Hollow Shades'
Perfect, one more ; get your stuff.
You grab your sweater and quickly put it on, ignoring the spikes of pain that are shooting through your body. The coat is next, and as you pat your pockets to check if everything is still there you notice the train is pulling into the station, which is perfect considering the blonde filly is coming back towards you. With a quick wave you step out of the car then immediately slip into the next one. You take a seat, then sigh in relief when the doors close and the train starts off again.
One more stop until home. Until Ponyville. Whatever. You get up - despite what your leg says - and discreetly look out the small window to watch the group, just for two seconds. The filly is sitting back down, looking dejected, as one of her friends reaches out for a hug.
Oh fuck off with that sad shit, they're drunk and they didn't need you there, she just invited you over because she felt bad.
But what if she really did want to hang out ?
Oh she did, or probably did, but fuck that. It might have been pity. Yeah, it could have been. Maybe not, but maybe so. Dude who cares, I just wanna go to bed right now, let's not create any more problems than needed.
You sit down with a sigh, checking over your shoulder that yes, you are alone once more. Perfect. You take off the sweater and the coat, dropping them next to you before rolling up your sleeves and flexing your fingers. Once you're comfy, you let your head rest against the window, suddenly feeling exhausted. You check your watch. 6 AM sharp. About thirty minutes left until Ponyville.
A nap sounds good right now.
Only you immediately wake up because you missed the stop, didn't you ? No, you couldn't have. What time ?
6 : 10.
God damnit. Okay.
And so you end up checking your watching every two minutes or so, the needle moving slower every time. But those twenty minutes, even though sleep eludes you, you're in heaven. Not only are you back in that dull, throbbing bubble of yours but you barely feel your body. You feel like a solid mass of nothing but meat. But the best part of it is you think of nothing. No impulses, urges, and no stray thoughts zooming by. Just feeling. Just bliss. You're not even mad when you hear the conductor call for the final stop.
Grabbing your things, you head towards the very back of the car. You count to five, then open the doors. Five more seconds, then you peek out. Sure enough, the group of teens has left their car and are heading to the exit ramp. You exit the train and you quickly, silently stride to the opposite end of the platform, escaping the blonde unicorn's curious look backwards by a second.
From there it's a half-walking half-stumbling back to where you're currently staying. The air is fresh and silent, except for the sound of the world simply existing. You don't know what to call it exactly, that sound that surfaces once the wind is gone and there's nothing else to make noise. You want to call it the sound of silence, or the sound of nothing, but it sounds so cheesy that your mind rejects it, even if it makes sense. Your body feels heavy, and time seems to crawl by. Sometimes you're faintly aware aware that you've lost track of it, just focusing on getting to bed. And at long last you see it, in all it's glory.
The Castle of Friendship.
Is that its name ? Whatever, that's what you're calling it.
You concentrate for a moment, and you're acutely aware of your surroundings once more. Ignoring the only slightly lessened pain, you stare at the lock. Not broken, the door is fine. Like it always is. Good, good, good. You take a full minute to pull the door open, and another full minute to gently close it. You feel anger rising up as you put every bit of effort you can muster to silently walk towards your room. Every step is slow and steady, always with the ball of your foot first, but every movement seems louder than the last. The gentle give of the carpeted floor, every rustling of your coat and pants, every breath, feels like you're a second away from waking everybody up.
An eternity later, after the arduous climb up the stairs and the silent creeping through the halls, you stand before your door. You open it with the same care that you gave the front door, and it's only after you hear that gentle click that you allow your lungs to work freely. You stand there, silently panting, observing your room in the moonlight. Nothing seems out of place or tampered with, and no one is waiting on your bed or standing there, watching you.
You take off your clothes and dump them at the foot of your bed, and you're about to crawl in when you hear soft hoofsteps coming from the hall. Once you're sure they're real, your senses go into overdrive. You slowly but deliberately get into bed, never too fast. That's how you get caught, how children get caught by their parents past bedtime, because of the sheets rustling. You then lie with your back to the door, and control your breathing. Too fast, or especially too slow and you're clearly faking. Sleeping people breathe rhythmically, with short bursts, not deep breaths. If you close your eyes you're too aware, so you just stare at nothing.
You hear the door open slowly, and you see the soft glow of blue magic reflecting off the wall. She stands there for a moment, no doubt looking at you, and it takes all the energy you have left to control your body and your emotions.
God damnit Starlight leave leave leave leave LEAVE I swear to Christ I will fucking hit you how many hits would it take for the bone to show if you bash her head against the wall right now ?
Just when you think you're going to snap you hear the door close and the room is dark again. You don't move an inch for a full five minutes, then quietly rise to close your curtains, especially since the sky has gone from black to navy blue. You stand there, enjoying your nakedness and the cool air of the room, before going back under your sheets. You can worry about damage control tomorrow, right now you made it and you're done.
Hell of a night, huh ? Yeah, it was a good one. Gotta go back there soon anyway.
And before you know it you're out like a light.
*********
You're back in the dark. You're aware of that, the sheets, your pillow, the mattress, and nothing else exists. You're faintly aware of your tossing and turning. Then the dreams start.
A bar. So many people. Clawing. Hitting. Biting. Throwing, getting thrown. Catching this, pushing that, dodge,punch, kick. Getting hit getting thrown there are so many and they're closing in, you get pushed and now you're down and they're swarming over you kick kick KICK god damnit they're keeping you down. Okay no, that's it, wake up now, wake --
Your eyes open slowly. You blink one eye after the other, the images floating in your mind like ghostly remnants through your mind. You keep at least one eye open so as to not fall back asleep. You're well rested, and you slowly turn so that you can stare at the ceiling and let your body get back to full capacity. You let whatever thought float by, only dwelling on it for a few seconds at most, blinking every time an image resurfaces.
You look at your hands. Clean, unblemished.
Fantastic.
You lie there, letting go of any control over anything for about twenty minutes before you rise. You can hear the others talk as they have breakfast, and you smile softy. After removing the sheets from your comforter, mattress and pillow and dumping them in a corner along with your clothes, you go to your closet. Once you've gotten a new set of clothes and sheets, you make your way to the bathroom and look at your face.
Bloodstained, but undamaged.
Perfect.
Once you've taken a shower and brushed your teeth you step out, ready to face the world. Just before you step out of your room you notice your shoes, lying at the foot of your bed, still filthy.
You know you're gonna have to clean those up right ?
I know.
And with that you go join your friends. In harmony. At peace.
This is your life as Equestria's only human and it's pretty good. You're content.