Granite sat up in a daze, unsure of what to do as he woke up. He lay motionless in his bed, finding little motivation to move. He knew he would need to prepare his garden soon so he could begin his at-home floral business. Huffing, he tried to force himself up but found it difficult to lift his body.
The feeling of trepidation from the previous night plagued him still, leaving a numb feeling that coursed throughout his entire body. He felt like the unlucky flowers in the winter, brittle with frostbite. The cold pierced him as if icicles were impaling his body. Granite thought his body would succumb to permafrost and he would never be able to move again.
Get up. Lock yourself away. Let warmth spread on the outside.
Thorns’ sudden speech sent Granite flying out of bed. He nearly hit the wall but was able to stop himself in time.
Ha, ironic! Granite thought. He could move after all. Whatever he had felt previously must have been fear and nerves, he reasoned. Granite shook his legs around, shaking the numbness off as if he was shaking snow off his hide. Strength came back to his hooves and he was able to slowly get up, the floor creaking underneath him as he did.
He stared at the bathroom door as he walked towards it. He knew he would have to go in there for one reason or another. He hoped it wasn’t for the wrong one.
Go in there. Lock the door. Stay until you see red.
Granite’s lip began to tremble. He wanted to resist so badly, but his hooves were beckoning him towards the door. Quickly, before they could take off, he looked down at his right forehoof. He pushed back the fur on it gently. What remained of his scar from years ago was cloaked behind a thick layer of fur. It was nothing more than a thin, pink line, but its memory cut deeper than the scar itself. The longer Granite stared at it, the longer he realized he didn’t have a reason to surrender to Thorns today.
He trotted towards the kitchen, grabbed a cup, and turned on the faucet. Once the cup was full, he went back to his room and grabbed the little orange bottle on his nightstand. He took a couple of small pink pills out and gulped them down with his cup of water.
You aren’t in charge of me today Granite thought as he walked towards the front door.
Granite went around the back of his house to set up his garden. He only gave himself time to shove everything away last night since starting the garden when the moon was out seemed like a waste of time. Now that the sun was out, he drew out his garden tools and his arrangement of potted plants. In order to be methodical, he arranged each tool by order of usage and each plant by flower type. To begin, he started with his shovel and the row of tulips.
Granite began to dig little holes around his yard, making sure each one was big enough to fit each flower but not so big that they brought up a lot of unnecessary dirt. He dug all around the house, arranging the holes into precise rows to flatter the house. Granite then patted each hole to smooth them out. If the flowers were going to go inside them, they ought to feel safe going in. Granite cared deeply for his plants and believed they noticed these little details.
Next, he dug each tulip from its pot and set them carefully into each hole. As he did, he patted each flower gently, stroking the petals as he did. Finally, he located his watering can and filled it up to the top. Thankfully, he did remember to install his hose. Once it was full, he slowly trotted over to the garden and watered each plant gingerly as to not oversaturate any of the flowers. He soon finished his first row and moved on to the next, continuing the process.
As the final drops of water seeped from the can, Granite lay the can down and looked up at the sun. Its position told him that the task had taken all afternoon. He was grateful for this because it left him just enough time to do the last thing he had on his agenda.
Glad my friend Pencil Pouch lives in town still. I haven’t seen her since I planned the move. Maybe I can visit her today he wondered.
Granite wiped the sweat from his forehead and prepared to gather up all of his supplies and put them—neatly this time—back where they belonged. Before he did, he whispered sweetly to his garden,
“You’re going to be okay today. I know you can be strong while I’m gone,”
Granite’s current mission was to find his friend’s address. Thankfully, Sire’s Hollow is not a huge town. The residents were also very forgiving when Granite knocked on the wrong houses numerous times, unlike the ponies in the various cities he’s had to travel to for work.
It wasn’t until a suave unicorn pointed Granite towards the house next door that he found Pencil’s address. As he walked up, his ears folded slightly and his face struggled to create a normal expression. Despite knowing each other for years, Granite still felt nervous speaking to her. The main factor, he decided, is that he had opened up to Pencil so much over the years that Thorns had taken a particularly strong disliking to her.
Granite eventually gained the courage to knock on the door once he pushed his nerves to the back of his mind. He tapped his hoof a bit and waited. Gradually, the door began to creak open.
“Granite! Hi! Did you finally unpack?” Pencil said, smirking at the last part.
“Yes I unpacked!” Granite cried playfully.
“Good, cause I wanna see the house!”
“You can see it when you give me your address. I had to ask all around to get here,”
“Oh...yeah, right. Sorry about that. This is the first time we’ve hung out somewhere that isn’t public, so that never occurred to me,”
“But now we’re both independent adults! Took me long enough!”
“You had your reasons, and you’re only twenty-two! Hey, since we’re talking about houses, why don’t you come in and see mine?”
“Sounds great!”
Pencil Pouch opened the door wide enough to let Granite in then locked it behind them with her magic.
“Here we are!” Pencil exclaimed, waving her hoof around for effect.
Granite pivoted his head, immersing himself in the design of the house. The layout was rather simple at first glance, but it soon took him by surprise when he noticed all the details. Art supplies were scattered in a meticulous way and the decorations were arranged in a way that appeared minimalist from far away. At a closer glance, Granite noticed how complex the rooms of the house really were. He felt it complimented his friend’s personality well. He turned and smiled at her, letting her know he admired her house.
Pencil Pouch smiled back, then led Granite Rose into the kitchen. She magically pulled out a chair for him and led him to his seat. Politely, Granite sat down, scooting around to make sure he wouldn’t fall off. Pencil left and proceeded towards the kitchen island, collecting various items with her horn. Many of them began to slip out of her grasp which caused her distressed. Attentively, she set some of the things down once she rediscovered her own strength.
When she trotted back towards the dining area, she set down what she had been able to carry onto the table. She had brought with her a deck of cards, two glasses of water, and a small plate of cookies.
“Were you going to bring a whole meal over before you almost dropped everything?” Granite remarked.
Pencil blushed but kept the smile on her face. She replied hesitantly,
“Well, yes. A-actually, it was more like a ton of snacks meant to make up a meal! I-I know you don’t like to eat much, so I tried not to go and cook anything,”
“That’s nice of you, but I think these cookies are plenty. We can always eat the snacks tomorrow—u-unless you want them!” Granite responded.
“Oh, thank Luna, I’m starving! Hold on!” Pencil yelled as she scurried back towards the island.
Granite chuckled softly to himself. He always thought it humorous that Pencil could eat for ages just for the sake of it and he couldn’t eat more than a few bites in one sitting. He supposed taking a pill each time he visited her contributed to that.
Pencil Pouch returned with an armanda of different snacks. She brought with her bags of chips, pretzels, candies, and even a couple of apples, just to have something healthy. Pencil threw all of her snacks out onto the table. She almost started digging through them when Granite said,
“How are we going to put the cards on the table?”
Pencil looked up, grabbed the snacks in a hoarding fashion, then replied,
“There, you have that whole part of the table to yourself. I’m just gonna use magic to hold the cards,”
Granite chuckled once more, then began to open the deck of cards up. He attempted to shuffle, but ended up flinging some of the cards across the room. He frantically ran across the room to pick them up as Pencil began to laugh. When Granite sat back down, he joined in the laughter, tittering at his situation. The two ponies were laughing so hard that they could scarcely breathe, but neither pony seemed to care. The two only stopped when their stomaches began to knot up. Once they were finished acting like little foals, they picked up their cards and began to play.
“So, how does it feel being independent for the first time?” Pencil asked as she hoofed her deck over to Granite to select a card.
“Well, other than Thorns being more persistent, it’s been okay,” Granite murmured. He quickly looked behind himself to check if Thorns was there. Sure enough, he was, staring very impatiently at him and Pencil. Granite turned back around to prevent provoking him further. When he turned around he noticed Pencil had her deck ready for him. Very slowly, he selected a card, careful not to touch Pencil by mistake. He stuck it inside of his deck quickly, trying to hide the disdain on his face upon realizing he chose a bad card.
Pencil gave a sympathetic smile in response to what he had said. She then added,
“How’s your garden business going? Did you sell anything yet?”
“No, I just started setting it up. How about your art business?” Granite inquired as he held out his deck for Pencil to take her turn.
“I’ve sold a few things here and there. Nothing noteworthy but I’m making a decent living. Oh, do you wanna see some of it?” Pencil cried cheerfully, taking a card from Granite’s deck.
“Sure!” Granite exclaimed. He frowned to himself once she wasn’t looking, annoyed at the fact that he still had the bad card.
As soon as she left, fear began to trickle into Granite’s subconsciousness. He fidgeted around in his seat, suddenly extremely uncomfortable with it. He anxiously jumped out of it and trotted around. He tried many different ways to calm himself down; taking deep breaths, shaking his head around, walking with slower steps. Each method was only a temporary relief from the menace whispering to him.
Leave this house. Hide where it’s safe. Carve out your pain.
Granite’s heart rate increased, sending adrenaline all throughout his body. His hooves began to quake, desperate for more movement. Granite thought of running but not where he would run to. It didn’t matter where he ran as long as he ran away.
I can’t be here! This was such a bad mistake! She could take me away! Granite thought.
The familiar ideology he’d had since foalhood came back to him: Other ponies were after him to put him back into a mental ward.
He would be locked up, but not to save him from himself. No, he would be imprisoned for experimentation. Doctors would extract every particle from him, erasing the essence of his physical being. Then they would attack his mind, sending a multitude of waves and electric signals through it until his memories were zapped out of existence.
Even if Granite were to escape the fate of a lab rat, those he trusted would turn on him. They would tell others of his condition. Of Thorns. Of the knives. They wouldn’t see him as a victim. They would see him as a threat. To society. To the world.
The overwhelming agony of these thoughts overwhelmed Granite Rose. Suddenly his head began to spin. It spun so fast that the wall lamp above him was flashing sporadically. The lights began to blind him, so he forced his eyes shut to protect them. Granite lightly waved his left hoof around in an attempt to relocate his seat. He was unable to find it, so he collapsed on the floor. When he fell, his head made a small thump, causing it to hurt even more. He began to sob uncontrollably, his tears stinging his face. Granite curled into a ball, hoping the action would hide his pain and insecurity.
Pencil Pouch returned with a few canvases en tow. She hummed a little tune as she trotted back into the kitchen. She set down each piece carefully, making sure she didn’t drop it all like she did with the food.
“Okay, I brought out some paintings I thought you might...Granite? Where’d you go?” Pencil asked confusedly.
She peered above the table and saw nothing at first. When she walked closer to Granite’s side, she noticed a small grey heap on the floor. Worriedly, she headed over and cried,
“Granite! Granite, you okay? What happened!”
Granite couldn’t bear to look Pencil in the eyes. He didn’t know what to say to her right now, especially with Thorns standing over top of them.
Leave her house. Find a safe space. Let pain leave freely.
Granite wanted to follow Thorns’ instructions like a sheep following its shepherd, but the wolf in front of him was too big of a problem to disregard. Ignoring the shepherd’s calling, Granite cried out to the wolf.
“P-Pencil, please don’t take me away! Please, please don’t take me away! I don’t wanna go back!”
Pencil merely shushed him and cradled him in her arms.
“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay Granite. I won’t take you away, I promise. Shh,”
Granite continued to sob and shake. Part of him wanted to wriggle out of her embrace, but another part found it comforting. Granite tried to repress his sobs but found himself lapsing into choking fits. Steadily, he fought to recapture his breath and let warm tears stream down his face and onto his hooves. Pencil lightly patted him on the head as he continued to cry. She held him for a while as he slowly began to compose himself. Faintly, Granite looked up at Pencil and saw a caring friend, not a harsh interrogator. She wasn’t here to expose him. Perhaps, Pencil was the shepherd and Thorns was the wolf. Sometimes he couldn’t tell.
Granite Rose pushed himself up once he was finished and did his best to wipe his face off. He hid himself off to the side out of embarrassment. He didn’t want Pencil Pouch or Thorns to see him in this state anymore. He began to walk out when Pencil interjected,
“Granite, wait! What happened? What did Thorns say?”
“Shh! He’s right there!” Granite hissed. He pointed to the far end of the table indicating where Thorns was, then remembered Pencil couldn’t see him. Sheepishly, he put his hoof down and glanced away from Thorns’ direction.
“Sorry! Well, if it’s gonna bother you, I won’t make you talk about him. But don’t be scared to talk to me, okay? I-I’m just worried. Your episodes haven’t been this bad for a long time,” Pencil expressed with a concerned look drawn upon her face.
“I know. He’s been acting stranger than normal ever since I moved out,” Granite figured.
“I’m sorry. Maybe it’s because of me, too. I’m a threat to him since I’m your best friend,” Pencil replied guiltily.
“That’s not your fault. M-Maybe it’s just—Granite let out a loud sigh—just me. I’m sorry you had to see me like this. I really tried to get rid of him. I took a pill right before I came here!”
“No, no, it’s okay! I know you really tried, you always do! You should probably get home and rest, though. Give your head a rest,” Pencil comforted.
“Okay, I will.” Granite agreed. He had nearly made it out the door but stopped short. He turned around and said,
“Bye, Penc! See you next week?”
“Sure!” Pencil said, smiling.
With that, Granite opened the front door and trotted back home, making sure to get directions as he left the neighborhood.
He arrived back home just in time to give his plants one last watering session before he turned in for the night. He went around the back to grab all of his supplies. Granite returned with his tools and began watering each flower, gently stroking each one as he did so.
When every flower was taken care of, he spoke to them collectively.
“I hope you all had an easier day than I had,” he spoke sweetly as he headed inside the house.
Granite rummaged around the kitchen for anything he could make a small meal with. He was in the mood for a sandwich, so he gathered a few vegetables and a loaf of bread. He wasn’t sure which type of sandwich to make yet, so he decided to get the rest of the materials out while he thought of what to make. He trotted over to a drawer near his sink and opened it, revealing a vast array of kitchen knives.
Granite felt a strong chill go down his spine. He was extremely afraid of knives ever since his ‘incident’ as a child. He was always afraid of what he would do with them.
He stared at them longer, thinking back to the afternoon. As he was thinking, Thorns stood there with him with a curious look on his face. He craned his neck around Granite as much as he could to get a better look at what Granite was doing. Granite grumbled under his breath. If Thorns was going to be as bad tomorrow as he was today, Granite would definitely need an ‘alternate method’ to get rid of him. It was only going to happen once, it wouldn’t-
Slam!
“No, no!” Granite screamed.
Granite slammed the knife drawer shut with full force. If there was going to be any sort of ‘alternate method’, it would not be with the contents of that drawer! Allowing such a sick thought to enter his mind made him mad. Angrily, Granite stomped upstairs to his room to sleep, ignoring what would have been his dinner sprawled out on the counter.