//------------------------------// // Chapter 7: The Change // Story: Invisible Walls // by Harmony Charmer //------------------------------// After my emotional crying episode and my discovery of the bronies, lots of things changed. I had reached that point where I had no idea what to do with myself. I don't think I could ever revert to my original anti-social, sullen outcast role... But I could never reach that level of security and joy ever again. Like a blank canvas, I was waiting to be painted on, waiting for a mistake or a stroke of genius to make me into a work of art to either be admired or despised. After about two weeks of physical and emotional therapy at the hospital, I was released. But, my doctor had me entitled to a therapist who specialized in my "situation", to which my mother gladly accepted. I was sitting in my room, watching TV when I heard a knock at my door. I paused the show I was watching and walked over to the door and opened it to see my mom. "Yes?" Slightly uncomfortable, and extremely surprised. I wasn't really used to my mom knocking on my door. She looked just as uncomfortable as I felt. "May I come in?" She asked, glancing around my room. The walls of my room were bare, almost as if I were a mental patient. It bothered my mother not to have any pictures or posters on the wall to extremes, whereas my lack of personality and friends kept them bare. I opened my door even more for her to come through as an indication for 'yes'. She walked over to the bed and sat down on it. She patted the bed to tell me to sit down. I obliged. She took a deep breath and exhaled deeply. "Caroline, when we first found you, I was so confused about why you did it," She started, taking deep breaths to stay calm. "But, about a few months ago, I got a call from the school. It turns out, your friend Amanda was the one who put the graffiti on the school. And, it has also come to their attention, that the kids at school had been giving you a hard time about it. So, Amanda was forced to give a public apology and was sentenced to 100 hours of community service." Despite all the crap that Amanda put me through, I felt sorry for her. Probably because of my brony lifestyle; Love and tolerate. Then I had to remind myself she lied and made my life a miserable hell. Sometimes even the bronies can't hold back the hate. "What I'm trying to say is..." She took another deep breath for good measure. "Are you ready to go back yet?" Her question didn't surprise me. I had been asking myself that question ever since I got back from the hospital. Was I ready to go back? I had absolutely no idea. My mom sighed and stood up. "I can tell you need to think about this. Come and tell me when you have your answer." Without another word, she walked out of my room. I sighed and fell back onto my bed. I turned my head and looked at my closed closet doors. An idea formed in my head. I jumped up off my bed and walked over to my closet and swung the doors open. I looked at all the clothes I bought because everyone else was wearing them. I thought about all the times I yelled at my mom for not getting the things I wanted. I started to feel anger unlike any other. Who were they to tell me how to dress? I grabbed the rod and yanked it down as hard as I could. I picked up a T-shirt my dad had gotten me a few years ago, with "Daddy's girl" etched in with cursive. I was neither the girl he knew, let alone his girl. I threw it to my left. I picked up another one that had a cupcake on it. I threw it to my right. I repeated this process; right for things I wanted, left for things I wanted gone. I looked at how little items were in the right side. I glared at the pile of lies to my left and stormed out of my room. My mom was surprised to see me so riled up. "Take me to the store; we have some work to do." * * * I would like to warn you that this part of the story gets INSANELY girly, so please bare with me. I had missed a lot during my year long coma. My mom had managed to get her business a lot of recognition and money was rolling in faster than ever. So, she had no problem with taking me shopping. I sound really spoiled, but I couldn't stand to wear the things in that pile anymore. We spent about three hours walking around the mall for clothes. When I went on My Little Brony, I had heard they had My Little Pony shirts at Hot Topic, so that was the first place we went to. I grabbed exactly 13 different MLP shirts, and dozens of other accessories to go with them. Then, we got few pairs of jeans, some dresses, and some other T-shirts from other shows I liked. As we were walking out the store, I saw a hair salon across from us. There was a large sign with bright colors that said, "Clearance on Makeovers and Hair Coloring! Any color you want!" My mom looked at where I was looking and sighed. "Caroline, I get the whole, "brand new me" thing, but are you sure want to go that far?" She asked. I nodded in return and started on my way over to the salon. * * * It was my first day back at school. I had arrived early so I get the paperwork filled out for my classes. Remember how I said I went totally Twilight? Well, it's because of that I was allowed to go to tenth grade no problem. I would be taking Algebra and regular classes so I would be able to catch up with everyone easily. The office wasn't sure if I was really me, the girl with no personality and who was so quiet and make things so quiet, you could hear a pin drop whenever she was around. Nobody but teachers and faculty were in the hallway, so I recieved some pretty strange looks. I don't blame them, but I didn't let it bother me. I looked down at my schedule to confirm I was in the right place. I took a deep breath and turned the knob. I felt the rush of cold air as the door swung open. Everyone looked up at me. Now was the time for judgement. I don't know what freaked them out the most. I was wearing a dress that resembled Pinkie Pie's Gala dress and thigh high blue and white striped socks, so maybe that was it. Or my brightly colored BRONY bracelet? Or maybe it was my magenta hair. More than likely the hair. Everyone's face was absolutely priceless. There were a few open mouths and a whole lot of wide eyes. Even the teacher couldn't take her eyes off me, though she tried her best to. "Uh, class, some of you must remember Caroline," she said, as if trying to convince herself rather than her students. She pointed to an empty seat, and who do I see but Amanda, the traitorous, lying, greedy girl who stood for everything I hated myself for being and everything I stood against. She was just as, if not more surprised than everyone else. I smiled as widely as I could. "Hello! I'm really glad to see you again! I hope we can have a fresh start!" I practically skipped to my seat and gave Amanda a big smile. "Hi, Amanda! Been awhile since I've seen you! " My smile didn't waver as I sat down. Everyone was already shocked that I made such a statement with my appearance; now I had indirectly sassed Amanda, the delinquent who everyone feared and resented. I must have looked like a god. The teacher walked up to the front of the class and tried to peel the class's attention away from me. Once she managed to get the majority of us to listen to her, I felt a pencil prod my back. I turned and looked back to see a boy grinning like a maniac. "Hey, you're supposed to be Pinkie Pie, right? Spot on, bro!" He whispered. I smiled in return, then looked back to the teacher. As I did, I caught Amanda turning her head around quickly. Was she looking at me? I decided to let it go and listened to the teacher give her lecture. After about five minutes, a note landed on my desk. I opened it up and it read; We need to talk! What are you trying to prove? Do you have any idea how much crap you put me through? I looked back up at the back of her head and sighed. She really believes, after all this time, after what I did to myself, after she was punished, she really believed she was the victim? I grabbed my pink pen, sighed heavily once more and wrote in cursive: Friendship is a wondrous and powerful thing. Even the worst of enemies can become friends. You need understanding and compromise. You've got to share. You've got to care. You have done neither of these things; meaning, you were never my friend. And I've never been happier to say so. As I tossed her the note, I could feel a smile form on my face. A smile no one could take away from me.