//------------------------------//
// Day 1 
// Story: Burning Memories 
// by Feurisson 
//------------------------------//

The ticking in the room at least was familiar. Tick tock. 

It provided some comfort as being the only thing that still made sense, that I recognized from my memories. Memories that were either now missing a big piece or never had been true memories connected to experiences at all.  

The previous evening, I go to bed, everything is as it should be. Order. Peace. Tranquility. This morning, I wake up, any trace of that is gone. Everything. Every little thing. My mind, in chaos, louder than it ever seems to have been and thousand thoughts running through it, every one of them cut short by the next one before they can become something coherent at all. It was giving me a headache already. What is this, this – why is it happening? When... how did... who could... but what should I ... do? No – can't be... stop. 

Yeah, stopping listening to the tangled mass that were my thoughts seemed like a good idea. I forced myself to focus on the clock again as I laid still. Tick Tock. Watch as the fin... wait, what was the term for those things walking around the clock again? 

The word I was thinking of sounded unfitting now, silly even. Why would that be? What other word... wait, no.  Focus, C... wait, my name never started with an C, what was going on, could I no longer remember my name? Uhhh... I scrunched up my face in confusion and annoyance. With eyes now closed, I wondered what else I had forgotten, before trying to push these thoughts away again. They weren't helping at all, they were only making things complicated. Sigh.Let me just ignore everything at the moment. The room, my, uh, condition, the whole world if it gives me a bit of my inner peace back. 

When I opened my eyes again, I tried again to look at the time-telling device on the blank white wall and let its ticking calm me down. Tick Tock, Tick Tock. It proved to be surprisingly effective, and for a moment my stream of thoughts calmed down and I thought I could hear birds singing outside, probably through an open window behind me and the bed I was currently still laying.

I hadn't really moved since I woke up, only twitched at best. Everything about my body had felt completely wrong and alien ever since I wake up for some reason, and I wanted to avoid increasing that feeling by moving limbs unnecessarily. Still, I hadn't been able to ignore some of the more obvious changes about myself, especially when they were also literally in front of, or rather behind my nose.  

Suddenly I was interrupted in my train of thought when I heard a knock on the door, situated right on the opposite wall a few steps away from where I uncomfortably lay. A quick glance at the clock showed that both of the time-pointing-thingy, whatever its proper name was, laid at 12. A voice in the back of my mind seemed to suggest it was lunch, but who eats lunch in bed? Only those too sick to leave it, and I had been healthy as a pony when I had gone to bed, hadn't I? Wait, that doesn't sound right, I probably mixed two idioms here. Oh well.  

The door swung open, revealing ... someone walking on four legs pushing a tray on wheels with a covered plate on it into the room. The being had what seemed like gray coat, huge green eyes, a snout in which a key ring was being carried and large, longish ears. The overall build, especially the face seemed vaguely feminine. Definitely no human, though, no. And as much as I had tried to not think about it, ... I couldn't deny that neither was I anymore, from what I had noticed.  

The key ring was now placed next to the dish, and a clearly feminine voice spoke to me:

„Hey there, my little pony. Hope you're feeling better today. Here's some nice hot steaming soup for lunch”

Yep, that's what I was now apparently. Sure look different than what I always had thought a pony looks like, especially since my coat seemed to be a completely dull red color everywhere, and my arms... forelegs... whatever seemed to bend at odd angles, but otherwise, I could feel my ears, fuzzy triangles that previously were neatly folded down against my head, now putting themselves up  and moving around erratically, an involuntary and strange sensation, yet somehow comforting by virtue of an inexplicable familiarity, as if I had done it thousands time before… yet a part of me clearly claimed to knew that there was no way this could be, since in all my current memories that I could still distinguish from the general fog that seemed to have laid itself on my mind I was nothing like this.  

Though it became increasingly difficult to tell what was a memory of an actual event, what was a dream I once had and what was picked up from the countless fantasy books I tended to devour. Now that I was thinking about it, and I was really starting to feel as if I was doing that way too much, yet it seemed like I couldn't stop, as if I was going down a slipperly slope in my own head, I realized my memory was getting more and more holes by the minute.  

My heart started racing, pounding against my chest, my throat seemed to be closing up, and what seemed to be the mane running down my neck was now upright, too, in fact, I could feel hair all over my body stand up, in some goosebumps-fashion.

What was going on? Why was I forgetting things that seemed so clear a few moments ago? 

I wanted to just stare at the opposite wall, a sea of white and nothing else, to space out and help me get away from these thoughts running at full gallop… another strange idiom, anyway, my attempt was hindered by my my extended nasal bridge showing up in my field of vision, ending in two nostrils right above my mouth. Having now started to fully realize everything about my body, with all the resulting chaoting thoughts firing like a sparkler, I was feeling like an anvil had been dropped on me... A strong dull pain, worse than any headache I remember having seemed to pulsate inside my skull, and I felt unable to move or form a clear, coherent thought, as my brain seemed to have more and more problems processing all these sensations that in the end weren't nearly as alien as they should be… finally culminating in the thought, why could I even remember being a human in the first place, when it's clear as day I'm a pony? 

That was apparently enough for my overwrought nerves to give in, and as my psyche lay finally completely in shambles, everything quickly went black around me, the scream of the nurse barely registering in my mind anymore.