//------------------------------// // Pushed Too Far // Story: A Griffon Named Gilda // by Hodd //------------------------------// The loss of Buck had robbed her of all ambition, and sleep seemed her only companion. It was the only thing she could count on to always be there. As days passed, time spent outside her room became a rare occurrence. She looked at her calender after several days. It was monday. A school day. She looked at the clock. It's hands indicated it was 9:37. She grumbled to herself. Shit. I'm late. A small pang of surprise hit her. Even in her thoughts her language never quite exceeded past the occasional slip of the word 'damn.' She shook this out of her mind, and started off to class. Every step felt like a chore, seemingly harder each time. Seconds seemed like hours, as she made her way through the suddenly depressing East Wing. It seemed like an eternity before the door to Mr. Adams' class was finally in front of her. She let out a sigh, and pushed open the door, preparing for one of his infamous lectures. "You're late," Mr. Adams said plainly. Gilda cringed slightly at this, almost hoping she stayed in her room. "Yeah, yeah," she said, shrugging off the statement. Mr. Adams turned and faced towards the class, specifically, Gilda, one eyebrow raised. "Any particular reason?" he asked. Gilda simply shrugged. "Overslept," she replied plainly. "See me after class," replied Mr. Adams, eyebrow still raised. Gilda sighed and slunk into her desk, all too aware of the hushed laughter and stares she was receiving. Yeah, keep laughing it up, see what happens, she thought, irritated at the immaturity displayed by the ponies in the room. She gripped a pencil, and began to take notes. "Today we will be learning about the founding of Equestria," Mr Adams began. Seconds ticked into minutes, and Gilda soon found that she held no interest in what was being taught, and simply stared out the window, Mr. Adams' lecture slowly morphing into a drone of incomprehensible mumbling. She observed the birds flitting about, and taking flight, and for the first time, truly realized her lack of freedom. It was the repeated saying of her name that brought her back to reality. "Wuh- huh?" she said out loud, more than a little confusion evident in her voice. Mr. Adams was staring directly at her, once again, one eyebrow raised. "Well?" he inquired. "Do you have the answer?" Gilda looked around the classroom. All of the other ponies were staring, expectantly awaiting an answer. "Twelve?" she asked, mind numbed with fear and embarrassment. A large burst of laughter erupted from the room, causing her cheeks to burn a fiery pink. Mr. Adams stared at her further. "Funny," he said. "Once again, see me after class." Gilda sighed, and rested her head in her hands, on the verge of weeping. The harsh metallic ringing of the bell woke her. Damn, I fell asleep. Mr. Adams is gonna have my head for this. She gathered her things, and, head low, tried to escape with the flow of ponies. "Oh, Gilda," Mr. Adams called out. "I believe you and I have some business to attend to." She froze in place, let out a groan of frustration, and trudged to the front of the class where Mr. Adams awaited. "Gilda," he began, "I know it's hard since Buck left, but three behavior problems in one class period cannot go without punishment. I'm afraid I have to give you detention. You'll be staying after school on Wednesday, cleaning the chalk board." Gilda, once again, let out an irritated groan, and found her way to the door. She was stopped by three ponies, one of whom being Fang. "Well looky what we got here," he said, a sadistic smile on his face. "Looks like our little cat-bird-thing thinks she's real funny." Gilda's anger once again boiled inside her. "Fang, I'm going to tell you this once; get out of my way." He let out an incredulous laugh. "Hah! Or what? You'll yell at me? Tell on me to Buck? Heh, why don't you-" he was cut off by a quick flash, and then an intense burning on his face. The two thugs that had tagged along backed away, and darted off down the hallway. "Ow! Mother of Celestia! What did you do?!" He reached to his face, and immediately felt a warm sticky liquid coat his hoof. Three gashes under his right eye oozed crimson. "You scratched me?! What's wrong with you!? You bitch-" he was cut off by the blunt force of Gilda's knuckles. Stars flashed in his eyes, just before darkness and dismay distorted his vision. He came to just before his head struck the hardwood, emitting a sickening hollow thud. He lay there unmoving. Chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm, indicating unconsciousness. Well, at least I didn't kill him, thought Gilda. It was strange looking down at the defeated form of the pony who had ridiculed her so. It made her feel powerful; dominant. It felt... good. A shriek of terror from on onlooker disrupted her thoughts. Her head snapped up, eyes wide, grasping what she had just done. The next sound to register in her mind was the fast approach of hoofsteps. Her mind raced. Oh, shit, oh shit! "Gilda! What in Equestria have you done?!" She recognized the voice as Mr. Adams, his usual indifferent demeanor replaced by surprise and panic. "Go to the Director's office, now!" She backed away from the scene and slowly began he journey to the Director's (Warden's) office. Her face burned with fear at what awaited her. At last, the seemingly gargantuan door indicating the Warden's office. She swallowed hard, and with a shaky arm, opened the door. The Warden wasn't in her usual position facing outside her window. She was glaring directly at Gilda, eyes drilling into her skull. "Gilda, your actions earlier are unacceptable! Violence is no way to go about your problems, even if you are a grffon!" Gilda's face shifted into anger. "Even if I'm a griffon?! And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?!" The Warden locked eyes back with her. "Everypony knows that griffons are prone to make rash and unpredictable decisions. Being a griffon, I'm sure you understand that weakness first hand." Gilda pounded her fist on the desk, causing the Warden to jump. "Being a griffon is not a weakness! That Fang punk pushed me too far, and I snapped! It could've happened to anypony, so don't give me that 'it's 'cause she's a griffon' shit!" She shifted her weight, and stood on her back legs, towering over the Warden. "Now," she began. "I think we're done here." With that she exited the room, and began her march back to her own bedroom. She got mixed stares on her way back. Some were complete terror, others were... admiration? That can't be right, thought Gilda. Nothing I did was worth admiring. She sighed as she reached her room, and entered, collapsing on her bed. With a deep exhale, she closed her eyes, shutting out the rest of the world, and, once again, letting sleep take her.