//------------------------------// // Pressure Points // Story: Behind Him // by ExplosionMare //------------------------------// Granite sighed as he woke up for the morning. The details of the dreams he had were quickly slipping away as his mind was in a haze. He was unable to remember where he was until he blinked a couple of times. He grunted once he realized he was still scrunched up in the bathtub. His joints ached and his neck was sore from lying in an uncomfortable position all night. The pain annoyed him, so he attempted to get out of the tub at once. Granite slid around until he could place one of his hooves over the tub’s rim. Grunting, he pulled himself until his kneecaps began to pop from the pressure. With his legs no longer feeling numb, he slid the rest of the way out and plopped onto the tile with a skid. He lay there for a couple of minutes as he worked to steady his breath. Once he had the strength, he sat up and massaged the back of his neck to get the kinks out. Retrieve the knife. Keep yourself hidden. Find answers in blood, “F-find answers?” Granite whispered. Granite had tried for years to understand why Thorns was centered on self harm. Neither the psychiatrists at the ward nor his therapists had been able to provide a clear explanation. The best they could provide was that Granite was resorting to self-harm to cope. Like he was doing it by choice. Now, Thorns was willing to explain himself. All it would take was a bit of self sacrifice. Granite’s heart pounded so heavily he could feel his pulse throbbing. All of his questions, concerns, and doubts could finally be brought to light. Granite grabbed the knife out of the sink hastily, almost as if he was eager to use it. Then he remembered its consequences. I can’t make more scars! Other ponies could see them and they’ll start questioning me! Granite thought in a panic. He looked up at Thorns uneasily. He had already suffered the guilt from the last cut he made. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the toll another one could have on him. His eyes filled with desperation, fear, and disbelief. Thorns smiled down at him, but not in a spiteful way. He tilted his neck up confidently and stared at Granite intently. Through his demeanor, he firmly reassured Granite that everything would be alright. A couple of tears escaped Granite as well as a few shaky but relieved breaths. He sat up and repositioned himself over the sink. Now that he was calmed down, he could do what he needed to do. He clasped the handle of the knife firmly in his left hoof. He brought it towards himself and did not tremble. In a crafted manner, he angled the knife, brought it up, and prepared to bring it down. Granite’s eyes reflexively squeezed shut, but not because of the knife. What had alarmed his occipital senses was the steady stream of sunlight pouring into the bathroom. His eyes immediately reopened in shock. The sunlight only meant one thing: he overslept for work! “Oh, shoot! I have to meet with my Canterlot client today! Argh, I better go now before I miss the train!” he shouted. Abandoning the knife, Granite sprinted for the front door. He hastily grabbed all of his supplies, dropping a few in the process. Once he made it out the door, he swiftly loaded the client’s flowers onto his wooden cart before strapping the harness onto his waist. He then galloped across the yard, panting with the weight of the cart on his back. Pencil pranced towards Granite’s house with her flower drawing. She figured that if she stopped by now, she would have enough time to drop it off and chat with her friend a bit before he opened up shop. As she neared the front yard, however, she realized there were no tools out nor were there any lights on. She stood with her head tilted, unsure of the reasoning behind the unusual silence. Did Granite oversleep? “Oh, wait, Granite probably went out of town today!” Pencil reasoned. Since she couldn’t deliver the gift to him directly, she instead slipped it under the front door. She peered under the door crack to make sure the drawing had completely gone under before she backed away from the porch. Now that this little trip was over with, Pencil was free for the rest of the day. She didn’t have any commissions she needed to work on right away and she didn’t have to run any errands for at least a couple of days. She could finally take the time to just relax. I get to have a little ‘me day’! she thought cheerfully as she trotted towards the center of town. Granite spritzed his flowers and pet them gently. The train ride to Canterlot was quite long, especially considering that it took almost a day to get there. Frequent checkups were a necessity in order to keep the blossoms happy. After each flower was pampered, Granite leaned back in his seat, keeping the cart steady with his hind hooves. Gosh, I’m hungry, he thought suddenly. I guess I forgot to eat before I left. Oh well, I can afford a little train meal! When the train attendant trotted by, Granite waved her over. From her, he ordered a plate of cheese, crackers, and grapes with an ice tea to drink. It was a good thing, especially now, that he got to travel in the business section. He thanked the mare before he began to dig into his meal. This food selection is much better than the last one I had. Nearly everything last time had flowers in it! Granite thought, still perplexed by the situation. The thought was merely a diversion from the other thoughts he was fighting to keep down. Pencil was successfully able to make it inside the library after she convinced the two unicorns guarding it that she was only going to stay for a little while. Despite the library being public, the owners were very private about everything in it. Pencil felt quite accomplished just being able to step through the door. Hmm, was anything new shipped in today? she wondered as she looked around. Most books here were collections of various historical texts, so to see new releases was a rarity. Pencil knew of this, but she wanted to test her odds. She wandered around slowly, scanning the texts. It was not until she reached the back that she found something of interest. Leaning on a shelf edge by itself was a thin, gold book titled ‘Distaste’. Pencil always loved obscure titles like that. They allowed her to play a guessing game while she read, which was a treat in literature nowadays. She glanced at the synopsis, which was thankfully on the back rather than inside of the cover. It was annoying when the backs of books were filled with reviews. Pencil silently clapped, intrigued already by this “Skillet Flip”. Skillet Flip, a simple home cook, tasked herself with figuring out why her town suddenly had such a strong disliking towards food. Pencil found a desk surrounded by beanbags for visitors to sit at. She plopped into one of them and placed her elbows on the table, the book telekinetically hovering in front of her. Sighing, she waited until she was fully settled before she began to read. Granite stretched his legs as he finally exited the train. He breathed in the Canterlot air and noticed that, although it was clean, it lacked the natural scent of Sire’s Hollow air. Once he was a good distance away from the commuter crowd, he pulled his clipboard out from his saddlebag. Let’s see, the ‘Archdome Exhibit’... he read. That’s not too far of a walk. I can still make it there in time! Don’t go there. Go somewhere safe. Shed blood with sheers, Thorns! What are you doing here? Granite shouted internally. It was one of Granite’s personal rules to always take medication before he had to travel. So why was Thorns here? Granite paused a moment and realized that, in his haste, he neither took any pills at home nor did he pack any for the trip. He stomped a hoof on the ground and cursed himself for such carelessness. Just don’t say anything about my client! he demanded, giving Thorns a menacing look. Pencil could feel her pulse pounding as soon as she finished the last page. The book’s ending was open-ended and vague, but in a fascinating sort of way. Skillet Flip couldn’t fix her town’s problem, but she did gain a better understanding of the world around her. That ending was pretty dark now that I think about it, Pencil thought, her brows furrowing in concern. Skillet could cook all of this amazing food yet nopony could ever appreciate it. It’s almost as if she had a different perception of the world instead of the town, Tap tap. Pencil whipped her head around and saw the unicorns who were supposed to be outside. The white one was looking at her in annoyance and the brown one was angrily pointing towards the exit. Pencil sighed, then sprung up from her seat. She shrugged as she left, figuring she probably overstayed her welcome anyways. She would have simply checked out the book and left, but there was a strange ‘no check-out’ rule here. Hmm, guess I’ll just go back home now, Pencil thought, not really wanting to go anywhere else. I need to organize some things anyways, Within about twenty minutes, Granite arrived at the Archdome Exhibit. The building, from the exterior, looked rather encompassing. The inside, on the contrary, was surprisingly wide and full of more ponies than Granite anticipated could fit. He worried that in a place this huge, it would be difficult to find his client. Thankfully, his client’s puffy, secondary-colored mane stood out from the rest of the crowd. “Afternoon, Granite Rose,” the client greeted, holding out a hoof. “Good afternoon, Visitor Pass,” Granite responded, taking the client’s offer for a hoofshake. “I’ll lead you to the garden—it is quite a ways away from the main area. I’ll tell you what to do once you get there,” Visitor directed. Turn around. Leave unannounced. Let red rain down your coat, Don’t look, Granite commanded himself, forcing his eyes to stare straight ahead. When Pencil got home, she went into her room to assess how much she would have to put away. There were quite a few things scattered both on the floor and on her bed. She began with the items on the floor so she wouldn’t trip on anything. With her magic, she scooped up the various papers and canvases and stacked them on her desk in order of their respective due dates. She didn’t want to ruin any of her color palettes, so she tied colored pencils lying next to each other up with mane ties and wrapped paint palettes up in plastic wrap. Once she had finished, she moved on to her bed. An assortment of cyborg collectibles lay there, as embarrassing as it was to admit. Even as a young adult, Pencil still enjoyed the escapism of playing. As she gathered the cyborgs, her imagination took over her actions. She gave a voice to each figurine as it gracefully glided towards its spot on the shelf. “Wheeee! I’m flying!” “Prepare for landing in 3...2...1!” “Aaah, I’m gonna fall, nooo!” Pencil giggled, unable to make voices for too long. She felt a bit silly now, but she couldn’t help herself. Before she could get any sillier, she placed each collectible back in their respective positions, this time without talking. “You have from the door to the fence over there to work with,” Visitor Pass indicated, pointing his hoof across the garden. “Sounds reasonable. I’ll make sure to surround most of the trees as you requested,” Granite replied. “Good, good, now, sorry to be rude, but I really have to get back inside!” Visitor cried, rushing towards the door. Granite nodded, turning his attention towards the flowers. He took the pots out of the cart gently, making sure that a petal or a leaf didn’t fall in the process. Once every pot was placed on the ground, Granite used a tiny gardening shovel to dig out a few zinnias. He cupped them in his hooves until he was able to replant them in the mulch surrounding the trees. The mulch only took a few seconds to sift through before the zinnias could be planted. Granite repeated the process with the irises, camellias, and peonies until everything in the garden, including the building, was surrounded. The finished result filled him with both comfort and amazement. It was like he was in a giant enclosure, safe from everything on the outside. There were a few leftover flowers Granite had gathered into a pile earlier. He felt extremely guilty for the plants in the pile because they were overwatered. It was such a careless thing to overlook. They could thankfully be resurrected back home, but they would have to endure the long train ride home first. He gently nuzzled each over-hydrated flower apologetically. He whispered sweet things to them as he packed up all of his supplies. Before he headed through the door, Visitor Pass came out to inspect Granite’s work. “I take it you’re finished? Let me have a look—” He peered over Granite’s shoulder, nudging him to step aside with his hoof. Granite apologized and gave Visitor some space. Visitor stood still for a long, silent moment before he turned to face Granite. “I like this, I really do! It looks like a maze...or, no, more like...a museum, yes, that’s a better word! Although, the garden does have a way of making you feel lost in it,” he marveled. “I’m really glad you like it, sir! Will you be doing payment through mail or right here?” Granite asked. “Right here, Mr. Rose! I have to bring the party outside, so one of my friends’ll get it for you!” he exclaimed, leading Granite inside and beckoning a teal unicorn stallion over. Granite followed the stallion inside and was immediately overwhelmed by the noise compared to the softer sounds outside. His ears shrank and the noise reduced for him slightly. That didn’t muffle the loudest noise he was hearing, however. Escape this room. Leave everything behind. Strike until red flows, Just shut it! I’m leaving right after this! Granite mentally sneered. He glared back at Thorns with a tired impatience. Through the corner of his eye, he thought he saw somepony else stare back in shock. He turned around immediately. Pencil nodded her head to the loud music pulsating from her headphones. Her forehooves were tucked behind her head and her hind hooves were tapping to the beat, one at a time. A wide grin was drawn across her face from the boost of adrenaline that the music gave her. Her fur buzzed excitedly as the sound-waves sent vibrations throughout her entire body. Where do ponies come up with this stuff? It’s really good! Wish I could make something like this, she thought. She turned the music down a bit so she could think better. If I had words like these, I could really be helpful! I wouldn’t keep tripping over words or go silent... She turned the music back up a bit. Maybe my advice would actually be helpful too, instead of being something vaguely encouraging, She frowned and rolled on her side. She turned the music up a little louder. It would be great, too, if I didn’t try to bring up my own stupid problems to be ‘relatable’! Like anyone needs to hear those! Pencil turned the music up to its maximum volume and pressed her headphones on her ears. A few tears fell down her face. Why can’t I just leave things alone that I can’t handle! With a frustrated cry, she threw the headphones across the room. She buried her head in her hooves in an attempt to stop more tears from falling. ...I just wish I knew what to do, With a long, exasperated sigh, Pencil ceased her sobbing and screaming and quietly lay on the floor. She didn’t feel like getting up, not for quite a while. Thankfully, the drenched flowers were successfully recovered once Granite got home. He brought them inside to air out in the cool atmosphere of his living room. He was grateful that the train ride home wasn’t too long since there were not as many travelers on board going back. He put so much attention on the blossoms that he had nearly forgotten about the art he set aside on the table. He brought it over to his lap and examined it. It was another flower drawing from Pencil. The amount of detail she put into everything always fascinated him. The flowers looked so realistic that he believed for a moment that if he touched them, he would feel a wet, smooth texture. Discard the drawing. Walk to the bathroom. Feel warm red drip down your arms, Granite grimaced. He didn’t like the way Thorns described that. Bleeding wasn’t supposed to be pleasant. Then again, maybe Thorns’ statement had more to do with getting the action over with than how it was supposed to feel. He settled for that reasoning as he stepped towards the bathroom. “O-okay, I’m ready,” Granite said with the knife in hoof. He looked back and forth at it and Thorns. Thorns waited with a blank expression on his face. It was strange to not see him excited over the knife. Perhaps he was just impatient from waiting all day. Grants grit his teeth as he dragged the blade across his right arm a couple of times. He forced himself to look at the cuts to ensure that they bled. Once red began to trickle down his arm, he looked away from them then looked directly at Thorns. “Tell me what I need to know,” he told him. Thorns said nothing. Instead, a seemingly random assortment of words popped into Granite’s head; “trust”, “stuck”, “help”, and “save”. Granite’s eyes widened in curiosity in confusion. Who needed saving and how was he supposed to help? This hardly sounded like Thorns at all. Shaking his head, Granite washed the blood off his arm in the sink and headed to bed. This was something he would have to figure out in the morning. He was too tired and confused to make sense of it now. “Ouch!” he hissed as he made his way into the bed. His arm stung from the wounds. Even though he hadn’t cut that deep, they still managed to irritate his skin. Grunting, he flipped himself around and attempted to fall asleep as he cradled his burning arm.