“Nurse Redheart, she’s waking up!”
I could vaguely hear a voice in my right ear as I come to. There was a smell of disinfectant in the air, and the room looked vaguely clinical. There was light pouring in from behind me, falling onto my chest as I opened my eyes.
I suddenly realised I was lying on a bed, and that I had a splitting headache. I found myself looking into the eyes of Nurse Redheart.
Wait, what? She’s a fictional character; there’s no way she could be here!
Unless...
Oh No.
“How are you feeling?” Nurse Redheart asked.
I just wanted to scream, how could this happen to me? That stupid bow has royally fucked my life over. Now I was stuck in the Equestria Girls world, with little idea of what I was doing.
Pushing those thoughts aside for a moment, I answered. “Like Ah got hit by a lorry. In the face.”
Redheart looked a little puzzled. “Odd choice of vocabulary for you, but you must have been hit hard. Somebody slammed a door in your face, and it knocked you out.”
“How long was Ah out for?”
Redheart consulted her journal. “About 5 minutes. Pip brought you in, and he stayed until you woke up.”
I looked over to the chair nearby, and saw Pipsqueak sitting there, an adorable boy with brown eyes and-
What the hell am I thinking? I’m only supposed to have those feelings for girls!
Had this transformation changed my sexuality as well?
Pip spoke up. “Are you OK, Bloom?”
I nodded, slowly. “Feelin’ fine, Ah suppose. Where are Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle?”
As if to answer that question, the two girls burst through the door.
“Apple Bloom, are you OK?” asked Scootaloo.
“Yeah, we only just heard!” Sweetie Belle added.
“Ah’m fine, girls,” I replied. Of course, I wasn’t. I simply wanted to burst into tears. My old life was gone. Forever. Now I’d be stuck as a cartoon character until my body wore out.
I couldn’t add anything else, however, as the two girls came over and hugged me tightly. I returned in kind for their benefit.
I decided to keep the charade up as long as I could, in the hope that by the time my cover was blown, I’d found a way to get out of here.
But my thoughts were again interrupted by another person stepping through the door. Applejack walked over to me and placed her hand on my forehead.
“Are ya alright, sugarcube?” she asked. It was surreal, seeing this character I’d only known on the other side of a TV screen speaking right in front of my eyes.
“Ah think Ah’m OK,” I replied. “Can Ah return to lessons, Nurse Redheart?”
The nurse smiled. “Of course you can.”
Scootaloo shook her head. “Man, that blow must’ve messed with her memory.”
Sweetie Belle nodded. “I can’t think of anyone who wants to go to Mrs Harshvoice’s English class.”
I gulped. I’d read enough fanfiction to know that she was horrible, but to actually be in a room with her? Good God, that sounded awful.
I hopped up onto my feet, and shouldered my bag. “Well, Ah gotta go sometime, so might as well get it over with.” I headed off down the corridor.
“Other way!” Applejack called.
I immediately reversed direction, walking down the corridor now filled with other students. Most of them were at least a head taller than myself and as a result I got knocked about with impunity.
It was like being a dwarf lost in a sea of giants, knocked about by tidal currents called students.
On my way however, I did spot a poster, which read:
Sign up for Fall Formal Princess (10th Grade and above only)!
Do you think you have what it takes to be voted Number One by students?
Then go ahead, and place your name on the ballot!
Voting closes on the last day of this Half-Term!
OK, so at least I knew when this was. I was straight before the events of the first film, which meant the fun stuff was yet to happen. But I had to be careful. Even If I knew what was coming, my fellow students didn’t!
Just then, the bell went. A long, loud ringing that was extremely irritating. But it set off another memory in my mind.
I sped down the corridor, with Fireman Sam going round and round in my head.
Just as I reached the relevant door mentioned in my planner, I threw it open, and immediately the smile of nostalgia fell from my face.
Mrs. Harshvoice stood there, a woman in a white shirt and purple blazer with purple suit trousers. She had a look of disapproval chiselled into her face as if it were made of granite. Her eyes bored into mine like drills, as if my simple presence was horrifying to her.
“And what late hour do you arrive at?” she asked. “Students, please bid Miss Bloom good evening.”
“Good evening Miss Bloom,” they chorused one and all, all at once which was a little creepy. Amongst them were the faces of Snips and Snails, grinning like idiots at this idea.
That stopped promptly. “Whatever are you smiling about?” Mrs. Harshvoice boomed. The sound of her voice echoed off the walls and rolled around the room like a tidal wave of annoyance. She then looked back to me. “Well?”
“Ah’m sorry, ma’am,” I replied. “Walked into a door and needed to get help from the nurse.”
The teacher shook her head. “Please do perambulate more carefully next time. And I believe you will find it is ‘I’m sorry’, not whatever country nonsense you just spouted at me.”
Good Lord, she really was awful. This felt strangely familiar, but I couldn’t put a finger on it.
Anyway, I walked over to the desk that had my name on it, sat down, and took out the books. My heart sank.
It was a Literature class, and we were working on...something I’d never heard of before. Something to do with a whale.
Proceedings got rolling, and rapidly settled into tedium as we went over every conceivable meaning of the first 3 sentences.
“The Isles of the Manhattoes...”
I mean, seriously, who even talks like that? I began to drift off, completely and utterly bored. Who on earth thought this was appropriate for a group of 7th Graders?
I only became aware that I had missed something when I heard the Dragon loudly boom, “Apple Bloom!”
I shot up. “Somethin’ the matter?”
She shook her head. “Well, the grammar was atrocious. But can you tell us the meaning of this sentence?”
I shuddered in fear at the one given. It was utterly incomprehensible, so much so I won’t rewrite it here. But I got around this by spouting some vaguely plausible and pretentious twaddle.
The teacher nodded. “I see.”
A loud ringing distracted us.
“Well, that’s all for today,” Mrs. Harshvoice told us. “Don’t forget your book report is due in next week!”
I gulped. Book report? Please let other Apple Bloom have started it!
I emerged into the corridor again, glancing around, seeing Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle join me.
“Uggh!” groaned Scootaloo. “That history lesson was so boring!”
“Not even Mr Turner can make the history of shoes interesting,” Sweetie Belle admitted.
“I disagree,” said another voice.
There, behind us, was Rarity.
“I think shoes are most fascinating, and worthy of days of study!”
Scootaloo simply facepalmed. “Missing the point entirely!”
Sweetie Belle nodded. “As in, ‘it shouldn’t be on the syllabus’ kind of missing the point?”
After a few more hours of lessons, it was finally time to end the day. I walked through the corridor when I heard Applejack call me.
“You feelin’ OK, sugarcube?”
I looked back. “No,” I replied.
Applejack’s face changed into a frown. “Whatever for?”
I sighed. “Ya see, Mrs. Harshvoice-”
“She givin’ ya grief over yer accent again?”
I simply nodded.
Applejack put her hand on my shoulder. “Remember this,” she said. “Be proud of who ya are. Yer an Apple, and that means a lot. And don’t mind what other’s think about who ya speak; be who you are, and be it with pride!”
I smiled. “Thanks, sis.” Wait, what? Argh, this is messing with my head!
Applejack smiled back. “Well, let’s go. Pa’s picking us up from the lot.”
We walked out the front of the school, looking around.
“Where’s the truck?” I asked.
Applejack frowned. “Ah heard somethin’ about it havin’ mechanical issues.”
Suddenly a steam whistle echoed through the air.
And it was then I saw it.