Homework didn’t take long. My tomato was juicy. My chest is a little sticky from the spray. I don’t care. I’ve got a book from the school library. The girls said I had to read Lord of the Rings. It’s deep, heavy, but most importantly, long. I spend hours just reading. Soon enough it’s time to eat. I throw on some clothes and head to the soup kitchen.
I don’t know what it is; I don’t ask. They assure me it’s vegan, and it’s warm. That’s enough for me. There’s plenty of people talking. It’s loud. I sit alone, away from everyone else. I don’t take long. I return my plate, thank them, and leave.
I go back home. Home. Such a strange word. There’s a saying, common to both worlds, ‘Home is where the heart is.’ What if the heart is broken? What if the heart doesn’t care anymore? Is home anywhere then?
I guess home is in my books then. That’s where I care. Where I feel. At least I have somewhere to escape to.
I sometimes wonder if I should just return to Equestria. I wonder if I’m allowed to. But I don’t. I know Twilight would want me to meet Celestia. I can’t. Not yet. There’s still too much pain.
Once I’m back in my room I change into my sleep clothes and get into my bed. It’s not much; an old mattress and a few sheets. But it keeps me warm enough.
I settle into my bed. I grab my light and my book and continue reading. The story is good enough. Once I’m tired enough I put my book back. Then my light goes out. My bed is decent.
I toss and turn for a while. I’m tired, but in the blackness, my mind wanders. I remember all the things I did. I remember the pain I caused. The hurt I felt.
I don’t cry myself to sleep anymore. I’ve cried too much for that. Now I just pass out, exhausted. It’s a welcome relief from the pain of living. I wish I could just sleep, forever.