//------------------------------//
// 15 - Applejack's Jail 
// Story: The Hollow Pony 
// by Type_Writer 
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My nameless captor tossed my limp body into the cell, and I flailed in the air for only a moment, before I landed on my back with a painful thump and a rattling of metal chains. Dinky was only pushed into the cell by Snails, who looked miserable to even be here. The militia pony—who had carried me to the jail, after assisting with the process of putting us in shackles—shut the cell door with a loud clang, and we were locked inside.

Dinky stood over my prone form protectively as she glared at Applejack. “Magnus is going to force you to let us out. You watch.”

“Ah doubt that.” Applejack chuckled. “In the meantime, howsabout you get acquainted with your new cellmate? Reckon you’ll be spendin’ a lot of time together, after all.”

“Go rut yourself,” Dinky growled as she stared her down.

“Language, filly! Lucky there ain’t no soap left to wash your mouth out with.” Applejack shook her head, and began to trot out of the basement. The other militia pony trailed behind, but Snails hesitated enough to be left with us in relative privacy for a few moments.

“I’m-I’m sorry guys, I don’t know what’s going to happen, I didn’t think-”

“Snails.” Dinky’s eyes softened, and she stepped forward so they could face each other through the bars directly. “I don’t blame you, and it’s good that you’re not in here with us. See if you can get the keys, as soon as Applejack isn’t paying attention. Hopefully we shouldn’t be here long, and we can figure out things here in the meantime. Can you handle that?”

Snails nodded shakily. “Get the keys, get you out. Okay. I got it.”

“Snails!” Applejack’s bark from upstairs made him jump. “Land’s sakes, where’d he wander to now? Colt would get lost on a straight road painted with arrows.”

Snails galloped up and out to avoid her wrath, and Dinky sighed, before she turned around and sat against the bars. It was an odd thought, that we were in a jail cell, of all places. I would have thought that ponies had bigger priorities than sticking each other in prison in this Curse-stricken age, but we weren’t even the first occupants of the jail.

“Well! This is a surprise, I was hardly expecting a guest, let alone two! Sadly, the Great and Powerful Trixie cannot offer you much in the way of hospitality.” The pony who had been here before us seemed to be a unicorn, who regarded us with some manner of amusement from her cot. Her slightly faded fur seemed to be a shade of light blue, while her mane was a few shades even lighter than that, mixed with gray. Surprisingly, she'd seemed to have escaped the worst of the Hollow Curse. She shook her head, and shifted so that her head was propped up on her hoof while she lay on her side.

“Wha- Trixie?” Dinky jerked upwards as she looked at our “host.” “You’ve been in- why are you in...?”

Trixie blinked, and her eyebrow rose. “In here? I ran afoul of that overinflated country bumpkin. Same as you, I’d imagine. You’re one of Trixie’s adoring fans, I presume?”

Dinky pulled herself to her hooves and trotted closer, but paused to check on me. As she made sure I was lying down comfortably, she shook her head. “Not really? I remember you, you’re Starlight’s…ah, best friend?”

Trixie chuckled. “Not inaccurate, but I still don’t recognize you, I’m afraid.”

“Dinky? Dinky Doo? Starlight took over for mentoring me after Twilight-”

“Ahhhh yes, now I remember!” Trixie’s eyes lit up. “The filly that Twilight dumped on Starlight when she ran off to play hero again! You’ve…well, to be honest, you haven’t grown terribly much at all. Did you get shorter since I saw you last?”

Dinky sighed, and pushed her hooves under my barrel to push me over onto my side. My vision shifted as I rolled, and my chains rattled against the stone floor again, before I settled.

Trixie sat up to look at us. “What’s wrong with her? She’s not going to turn Hollow on us, is she?”

I shook my head, although my range of movement was as crippled as I was. “N-no...g-got hurt, my b-back...someth-thing important. St-still hurts.”

Dinky placed a hoof on my shoulder as she sat beside me, and looked back up at Trixie. “Can you heal her? I barely know any Pyromancy, and I remember you used it a lot in your show.”

Trixie chuckled again. “Normally, yes! The Great and Powerful Trixie would delight in using her healing hooves to cure the sick and mend the wounds of the injured, for a price.” She tapped at the collar around her neck, the bindings around her head, and the cuffs around her hooves. “Unfortunately, all of these bindings—save for the collar—appear to be forged from cold iron, the classic magical inhibitor. None of us can use our magic, whether sorcery or pyromancy, at least not with these on.”

Dinky started to tug at her own collar in frustration, as I took the time to inspect our bindings properly. The three of us all wore our own plain steel collars, locked tightly around our throats, and they had been the first of the bindings that Applejack had ordered Snails to lock. Gently glowing runes encircled the outside rim, and they had a metal loop built into the front that a chain could be hooked into, to allow our captors to drag us around by our throats.

The three of us were also wearing a set of four cuffs, with one around each hoof, and I could inspect my own in detail. More runes encircled the exterior, and they felt oddly heavy, even more heavy than the metal that they were forged from. I tried to focus on my Pyromancy, but the fire within seemed constrained; when I tried to channel the fire out through my hooves, it was snuffed in an instant, and my fire flickered. I gasped in pain, as it felt as though my soul itself had been struck with a club. Our flame was prohibited, and Pyromancy had been made impossible to cast, just as Trixie said.

The bindings on my back seemed designed to restrict my wings, and presumably any pegasus magic I attempted to weave, if I could recall any. They bound my wings to my side, and kept them bundled tightly together. Only feathers could escape, without the aid of another pony who had the key.

Finally, my eyes turned back to the two unicorns in the cell with me. The other militia pony had been the one to jam the device onto Dinky’s head, when Snails had been disturbed enough to step away, and it resembled a cold iron birdcage more than anything else. The base had locked into the collar, and the bars reached upwards to the apex of the cage, where a glowing black crystal was securely mounted. If I stared at it long enough, I swore I could see a faint tendril of anti-magic that tethered the crystal to Dinky’s horn.

Dinky had already begun trying to pull the cage off of her head by the time I finished observing our bindings, but I could tell it was a fruitless effort. Even if it weren’t locked into the collar, the cage was at a bad angle, and she wouldn’t be able to get leverage while it was still on her head. Neither Pyromancy nor blunt force would remove it; the cold iron would be strong enough to survive most blows or conjured heat, and any that overcame the metal would harm Dinky in turn. We were bound, until somepony freed us, or Snails came back with the keys.

If anything, Trixie seemed amused by Dinky’s efforts. “Oh, you’ve almost got it! Keep pulling, and you might just pull your own head off with it!”

Dinky choked as the collar dug into her throat, before she finally gave up and let her hooves fall to the floor. “Stupid dampener cage...thingy! Why not just use horn rings, like in all the adventure novels?”

Trixie chuckled again. “I don’t know what adventure novels you’ve been reading, but horn rings are closer to...exotic marital aids, if you catch my drift.” Dinky blushed while Trixie continued. “Besides, they’re meant to be easy to escape from, you just need to pull them back off. Not nearly secure enough for actual prisoners, like us.”

Trixie slid off her cot and moved next to us as she continued to speak. “No, to get these off, you need either the key, or something you can pick the lock with. Mind if I borrow a feather from the audience?”

I blinked at her, but Trixie had already ducked her head into my wing. I winced as she pulled a mouldering primary, and she wrinkled her nose as she leaned back, with the feather held between her teeth. “You are absolutely filthy, by the way. Take a bath.”

I held up a hoof, and recalled how I had been absolutely caked in blood and mud from our frantic gallop. That was another reason I hadn’t made anything more than a cursory attempt to stand: I was exhausted, and I could tell Dinky was as well. That she’d been as rebellious as she was, all the way to our cell, was nothing if not a testament to her own stubbornness.

Next to us, Trixie sat back and held up her fores, so she could push the calamus of the feather into the lock of one of her cuffs. She was surprisingly dextrous with her tongue and teeth as she tilted the feather and her hooves, and tried to find the perfect angle. A few moments later, she pushed the feather in just a few hairs further, and she grinned as she mumbled through her teeth. “Almost…almost there, just gotta get this at the right angle to push back the pin tumblers…”

Even Dinky was impressed. “That’s incredible, how are you-?”

“Dammit!” The tip of the feather snapped inside the lock, and Trixie jerked the cuffs in frustration, before she spat out the broken feather. “Ptooey. One of the Great and Powerful Trixie’s most famous skills is escape artistry, although it is…somewhat more difficult with actual locks. I’ll get it this time.”


*	*	*


Trixie broke twelve more feathers before I pushed her away, and gently asked her to stop pulling them. Primaries were important for flight, and while I was pretty sure I could manage when missing a few, Trixie looked desperate enough to escape that she’d pluck my wings clean. I wasn’t even sure if they had been permanently lost, or if they were considered important enough to regenerate, as far as the Curse was concerned.

Trixie had moved back to her cot, and she glared at the broken feathers that littered the floor as though they’d betrayed her personally. “There has to be a magical component to the locks, that’s the only explanation. Some sort of protection enchantment that needs to be matched by the keys.”

Dinky nodded. "That makes sense. Hopefully Snails gets back with those soon." Her gaze swept the cell, and her expression fell as she realized she might be stuck in this cell for a long while. After a few moments, her eyes focused on the cot behind me. "There's only two beds in each cell, but Applejack put us all in here?"

Trixie shrugged. "It suited me fine until you showed up. Not that it matters much, since I seem to be having trouble sleeping; they're just marginally more comfortable than the floor."

"Yeah, Undead can't sleep, we just gradually get less tired-" Dinky paused mid sentence. "Trixie, that's common knowledge outside. How long have you been down here?"

Trixie rolled onto her back, and held her hoof to her forehead dramatically, as she spoke. "Years and years, untold aeons since the sun stopped! Oh, woe betide Trixie the Great and Powerful, for she has been trapped underground since the sun stopped, never to escape!"

Dinky rolled her eyes.

After a moment, Trixie rolled back onto her belly and smirked at us. "I'm not really one for the whole 'woe is me' shtick normally, but indulge me slightly, yes? It's incredibly boring down here, and you two are the first decent audience Trixie has had in the last few…" Trixie paused briefly. "...weeks? I think I’ve been locked up for a few weeks, at most. It's very hard to tell, nowadays."

At that, Dinky nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Uh…for reference, how long do you think it's been since the sun stopped?"

Trixie shrugged. "Overall? It’s only been a few months so far. Maybe a year, but that’s my absolute most extreme guess. I can't wait until Celestia fixes things and gets the sun moving again, and I can start my show back up. The Hollows are a bit unpleasant, but they're just as enthralled as anypony else by my tricks, so long as that country bumpkin upstairs hasn't ripped apart Trixie's wagon."

"A few months...right." Dinky swallowed, and looked back at me. "Holly, you should have the cot, so you can rest your back. I'll...I'll be fine."

I wanted to argue with the filly, but my deadened hindlegs spoke louder. I didn't fight as Dinky awkwardly shoved her head under my shoulder, and tried to pull me onto her back. She was clearly struggling without the use of her horn, but I helped as best I could, and Trixie only snickered at us a bit as Dinky pulled me from the floor and dumped me onto the bed. I winced as my back landed on the ancient mattress, and I felt the bones of my spine as they ground against each other.

From the cot, I could finally look around the basement jail that we had been locked up in. The three of us occupied one corner cell out of the six total that had been partitioned out of the square space, and there were three cells on either side of a central space meant for the guards. A ramshackle table sat in the absolute center of the room, and a dim electric bulb hung from the ceiling above that table, which illuminated an old deck of cards from a long-forgotten game.

We were far from the only occupants of the jail, as a whole. The center cell of the three across from us seemed to be another group containment cell, with half a dozen feral Hollows all locked inside. They stared hungrily at us, as they crammed themselves mindlessly into the corner of their cell closest to our own, and the poor Hollow that had been the first there was clearly being crushed against the bars. The other five were too far gone to care, however, and he seemed to be as well. They all reached out with their hooves, as if they believed they could reach us if they just reached a little bit further.

The final occupant was on our side of the basement, across from the cell full of Hollows, and seemed to regard us with some small measure of interest from the other corner cell. He was a pegasus, like me, and deeply Hollowed. I gave him a wave with a trembling hoof, but he didn't return the greeting, or even respond in any way that I could see.

"Don't bother," Trixie grunted from behind me. "He hasn't ever done anything but smirk at me, or the bumpkin, whenever she comes down here to 'interrogate' him. I think he's already gone, and she threw him in the wrong cell."

I let my hoof drop back to the mattress sadly, and my eyes turned to the last feature of note inside the basement: near the ceiling of each center cell was a barred window that let in the warm, gentle light of the sunset. It seemed to be open up directly to the square outside on the opposite wall, while the window on our side, from what I could tell, only opened up to an alley behind the building. There was little hope of escape through there, with the bars blocking us from climbing our path, even if we were in that cell. The fact that even the Hollows across from us got more sunlight was only one more depressing detail about our prison.

Dinky seemed to finish her own inspection of the basement at the same time as me, and I winced again as she sat on the floor against the edge of the bed. Her gaze settled on Trixie. "So...what'd you do to get thrown in here, anyway? I thought Applejack just banished ponies she caught, not locked them in prison."

Trixie blinked at her. "Who?"

Dinky blinked back in even greater confusion. "The…the mare in the hat and armor. The orange, Hollowed one, with the accent…?"

"Ah! The country bumpkin, yes. I haven't really cared to learn her name, and unless the story of Trixie's escape is particularly impressive, I shall take great pleasure in forgetting about her entirely after I leave."

Dinky shook her head. "Right...but...actually, what happened to you and Starlight? Is she okay?"

Trixie shrugged. "Oh, she's well enough, I can't imagine she's gotten herself into too much trouble in the last few weeks, after all. You might recall that we left together? Well, we traveled across Equestria for a while in my wagon. We did shows, like old times, to buy our safety and pay for her research. You'd think if Twilight gave her instructions important enough for Celestia to follow up with her afterwards, she could float a royal stipend of sorts our way…"

"Research?" Dinky asked.

"Mm-hm. Twilight asked her for help researching the 'Curse,' and then disappeared. All-important Princess Twilight Sparkle was in Baltimare, last I heard, and hiding out at the library. Some things never change, hm?" Trixie chuckled to herself as Dinky's eyes went wide, but the showmare continued onwards. "Anyway! We traveled all over the country for a while. I'll tell you about some of the places we went another time, but Starlight ran into...ugh, an old 'friend' of hers. She decided to stay there and read boring books together, instead of traveling with me. Twilight made that mare boring, let me tell you!"

Dinky nodded, and I heard her mutter to herself, "Twilight is in Baltimare…right, okay."

"Myself, I kept traveling, though my shows weren't quite as impressive without my faithful assistant. Eventually, I had to return here to Ponyville to pick up some supplies that I left behind, buf to my surprise, that bumpkin had occupied and fortified the School of Friendship! She wouldn't let me in, and when I tried to get in anyways to get my own belongings, she had the guards beat me within an inch of my life! Then she tossed me in here, and here Trixie has remained since." Trixie waved her hooves at the prison around us, and then settled back down onto her own cot. “I may give you the detailed description of the fight another time; it was a spectacular battle, for the Great and Powerful Trixie does not surrender easily!”

I shrugged, as much as I could from where I lay on my cot. “M-maybe...we’ve had en-enough f-fghting for ours-selves, f-for a w-while...I th-think.”

“Oh?” Trixie’s ears perked up in interest. “Trixie has told you her tale, but she is always interested in hearing a good story! I may even be able to give you advice on how to ‘spice it up’ for an audience, hmm?”

Dinky shook her head, and looked away. “I’d rather not, if that’s alright. Not exactly proud of it so far.”

“Fine, fine,” Trixie waved her hoof, and looked at me. “How about you, hm? You certainly look like you’ve had more than your fair share of adventure, with how filthy you both are. And was that militia colt you were conspiring with involved as well?”

I looked down at Dinky, who gave me a tired shrug. “If you feel like it, Holly. I haven’t heard your whole story either, so it’ll be good to fully catch up, I guess.”

I mulled it over for a few moments, before I nodded slightly, and began to recount everything I’d witnessed so far. From the time I woke up, to where we lay now, as best I could remember it. My broken speech and stuttered words caused a little bit of confusion, but Dinky coaxed me to continue my breathing exercises again as I spoke, which helped.

I gave them the mostly-abbreviated version of events, from awakening in the bookstore to traveling to Ponyville, and Trixie took notice when I described my frantic gallop along the wall. Ponyville was mostly skipped over, because they were both familiar with the town, but I fumbled over my words when I started talking about Zecora. I couldn’t remember her rhymes exactly as she had said them, and it hurt me to think about her now.

Thankfully, when I got to the caravan, Dinky opened up slightly and helped me fill in some information. Trixie again took interest as we described the first fight against Apple Bloom, and she smiled fondly when we discussed Baton Verte; apparently she had been familiar with the town. Dinky went quiet again as I described Snips going Hollow, then leaving Baton Verte, and, finally, the second fight.

It was...hard to describe Zecora’s death, or…her Hollowing. I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that it was my fault that Apple Bloom stole her Equinity, and judging from how Dinky put her hooves over her head when I finally managed to describe it, I think she blamed herself too. Our desertion afterwards didn’t help; I was starting to wonder if we should have stayed and fought. At least we wouldn’t have been burdened with this awful feeling of shame.

Trixie, however, seemed impressed when I described our teleporting and evasion. “You Winked out of combat? That’s actually very impressive!” Trixie looked over Dinky again, as she clearly re-evaluated the teenager.

I looked down at Dinky, who only shrugged and looked away from us both. “It...it is?”

“Oh, yes!” Trixie sat up once again on her own cot and threw her hooves up in a grand, sweeping gesture. “One of many abilities available only to very skilled unicorns is the ability to Wink! It requires not only a sundering of the space between spaces, but it also requires great concentration as the caster travels through those spaces towards their destination. Even if a Unicorn is powerful enough to cast the spell to begin with, they have to train for months to maintain their focus. Even some of the most famous unicorns of all time have been permanently lost to a botched Wink. They poofed away, and simply never arrived at their destination!"

My flesh crawled, and my cutie mark itched, as I recalled the screaming, and the incredible pressure just on the other side of the shield. “Wha-what hap-happens to p-ponies that m-mess it up?”

Trixie leaned in, and held a hoof up to cover her mouth, as if imparting upon me a great conspiracy. “Nopony knows…some ponies claim they emerge weeks later, mindless and mad, and others swear they see the lost, trapped and drowning in the whorls and eddies of the abyss, when they travel through themselves. Others hear whispers, from those lost, and from voices beyond…”

Trixie waved her hooves, and the chains of her shackles rattled as I shivered. Then she pulled back, and it seemed the darkness of the cell around us receded as well. “I can only impart what I hear, of course; the Great and Powerful Trixie prefers to trot, or to be carried to her destination by her adoring fans.”

Trixie settled back into her cot a moment later. “So! What then, after skillfully evading combat?”

"Wh-when we l-landed-"

There was a sudden crash, as somepony stomped on the floor above us loud enough that we could hear it in the basement. We all jumped, and my words caught in my throat. A moment later, a shrill voice echoed down the stairs, but it was hard to make out the words. Dinky looked over at the stairwell, and mumbled quietly, "That sounded like Pinkie…?"

After maybe a minute, we heard movement coming down the stairs, and Applejack clearly barked, "Snails! With us, we'll make sure she doesn't try anything heroic."

A pink blur of burning warmth shot downstairs, and suddenly Pinkie was standing at the door of our cell, with her hooves wrapped around the bars. “Dinky, Holly! I’m sorry I took so long, Magnus was looking for me for a while and I was trying to talk Roseluck into coming outside but she’s all growly and so I was hard to find and oh hey Trixie! How have you been?”

Trixie shrugged. “Bored, mostly, but at least now there’s company.”

“I’m sorry! I would have come and kept you company if somepony had told me they were locking ponies up!” Pinkie turned to glare at Applejack as the mare came galloping down the stairs, with Snails trailing behind her.

Applejack looked as though she had been caught off guard by Pinkie’s arrival; she’d left her hat upstairs, and to my surprise, she had a short unicorn horn above her forehead. The hat must have been covering it up the previous times I’d seen her. “Ah don’t report to you, Pinkie, Ah report to Celestia. Guarding Ponyville from Hollows, saboteurs and malcontents is my duty, and as far as Ah’m concerned, these here ponies fit all three of the criteria.”

“That’s crazy! Crazier than usual for you!” Pinkie bristled, and I could feel her fire flaring, as her fur stood on end and she stared down Applejack. “That filly is our town Archmagus, and I know you’ve had your disagreements with Trixie in the past, but locking her up for Luna knows how long is just cruel! And I don’t know exactly what you think Holly did, but you’re probably wrong about that too!”

“These two,” Applejack pointed at Dinky and then me, “either got Zecora kilt or kilt her themselves, the investigation’s still ongoin’. Your friend Magnus was workin’ with them, and if I had my way, he’d be locked up in here too. Or maybe I’d just throw him in with the Hollows and let them sort him out; he’s been givin’ me attitude about how I run my town for far too long!”

“Hollows?” Pinkie turned to look around the rest of the basement, and her eyes widened as she saw the cell with the six feral hollows crushing each other within. All the activity in the basement, and especially Pinkie Pie’s presence, seemed to have riled them up; they snarled and snapped and clawed through the bars with a vigor I hadn’t seen in any Hollow until that moment.

Pinkie shook as she darted over, and stayed just out of reach of their hooves as they clawed at the air between them. “Bella Brella, Blue Bonnet, Rosetta, Peachy Plume, Orchid Dew, Lipstick! This is where you all went! I thought you all just disappeared or got eaten!” She jumped into the air, whirled around, and landed facing Applejack with her glare reinforced. “At least you haven’t been throwing them outside like the others, but what the hay, Applejack?”

 Applejack stood her ground. “These ponies are Hollows, Pinkie. Whoever they were before don’t matter one bit; they’re just beasts now. Or worse, they were hidin’ Hollows, like I know I’ve caught you doin’ a dozen times over. That weakens Ponyville, and lets the Curse spread further. We gotta throw ‘em all out so the sickness dies outside the walls.”

Dinky’s eyes widened, and we all heard her as she quietly mumbled, “They-they weren’t Hollowed already when you locked them up?”

I looked over at the mindless Hollows in the cell across from us once more, and felt a very unique sense of dread. Would that be our fate? Would it already have been, if Applejack had locked us up in one of the adjacent cells on that side?

Pinkie’s mouth twitched wildly and she seemed unable to make any noise for a few moments, as her jaw worked and unheard words tumbled out. When she spoke again, she was the angriest I had ever seen her. “You killed these ponies, Applejack! Maybe you didn’t pull the trigger or light the fuse, but you locked them up and starved them, and they died down here, alone and afraid, because of you!”

“Ah am doin’ what needs to be done to protect Ponyville!” Applejack barked back.

“Then why are you killing us?!” Pinkie shrieked, before she stomped both her forehooves on the stone floor. “This has gone too far! This has been going too far for way too long! Magnus is right, and we’re going to tell the Princess on you, and she’s going to put a stop to this, because you need to be stopped!”

“Let her try!” Applejack said with a guffaw. “Ponyville is mah town, and if she’s forgotten that, then I will stand up to her to keep you idjits safe! Tell Magnus that any authority he and his guards had is no longer valid in my town, and if I see his stinkin’ Hollow hide inside these here walls again I’m gonna throw him down a well to rot!”

“Fine!” Pinkie shrieked, before turning back to us. “Dinky, Holly, Trixie, I am coming back and Celestia’s going to get you out of-”

“Visiting hours are over!” Applejack barked to interrupt Pinkie. “Ah will escort you out of my jail myself! Snails!”

The colt jumped to attention, though he trembled as he pulled a sloppy salute.

“Stay down here and watch the prisoners ‘til Ah come and get you. Make sure they don’t try any funny business!”

“Y-yes miss Applejack-”

Pinkie whinnied in annoyance, and she had already bolted upstairs, leaving behind a pony-shaped cloud of dust, by the time Applejack turned back to her. This didn’t deter the militia commander any, and she simply galloped back upstairs a moment later, which left us alone with Snails and the echoes of shouts through the ceiling above.

When they had finally faded, Snails stumbled over to us. He seemed slightly in shock from the argument, and he barely managed to mumble out an apology. “I’m s-sorry…Miss Applejack’s got the-the only key, and she wears it herself on a necklace. And-and I don’t wanna try and steal it because she’s been really riled up as of late-”

Dinky laid her head down on the stone floor, and it looked like she couldn’t manage to lift her eyes up to meet his. “S’ okay, Snails. We’ll...I dunno. We’ll get out of here...somehow. Probably.”

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," Trixie muttered casually as she laid back down on her cot. "I've been trying everything I could think of to escape before now, but with a pony on the outside, I've got new possibilities to work with...It might take a few more weeks, but the Great and Powerful Trixie will not be locked up for much longer!"

I felt a leaden weight in my chest, uncertain if I would be able to wait that many "weeks" myself.