//------------------------------// // Open Space // Story: Behind Him // by ExplosionMare //------------------------------// Can I maintain this place and keep up with my medical expenses at the same time? What if I can’t focus and the workload gets to be too much? What if I can’t tell if something’s wrong? What would my parents say to me if they saw what I’ve done? What if it gets so bad that I scare Pencil away? Dozens more complicated continued to greet Granite Rose this morning. He reasoned it was because he was restless last night, due to having to remember not to turn over on his right side. He tried shutting the thoughts down by shaking his head, taking deep breaths, and doing a variety of small movements to refocus his mind. Unfortunately, as soon as the worries and fears disappeared, they reappeared just as quickly. He found himself unable to sit still. He got up to try and do something productive, but found himself too distracted to decide on a single task. He grunted angrily and put pressure on his head in order to force himself to focus. Once the pressure felt like it was reaching through his skull, his mind cleared. It was then that the strange four words from last night were recalled. Trust, stuck, help, save. Thorns stood patiently near the bed, curious as to how Granite would decipher the meaning of the words. Who’s in need of saving? Granite wondered. More importantly, why would you want to save somepony and enlist me to do it for you? That doesn’t sound like you. Thorns let out a slightly irritated snort. Granite blinked and quirked an eyebrow. Thorns bounced his head up and down, staring intently as he did. It seemed like he was trying to make a gesture, but Granite, for the life of him, couldn’t make it out. After repeating the process for a few more minutes, Granite got annoyed. “Why don’t you just say it?” Granite spat. Thorns stared for a moment, moving his lips in an odd fashion. A few barely audible gasps managed to escape from his mouth. The more Granite listened, the more painful they sounded. “A-are you unable to?” Granite muttered. Take the knife. Go where it’s safe. Let red pour down. Thorns spat frustratedly. “Oh, but you can say that, of course!” Scoffing, Granite ignored the command and marched towards the living room. On the way there, he banged his right shoulder against the doorframe. He winced and looked at the injury, forcing himself to see the scars again. “Grunt! How deep did I cut?” he asked aloud, his eyes glaring in horror at the two pinkish-red slashes. They had to have gone through at least a couple of layers of skin, judging by how deep they felt when he ran his left hoof over them. His stomach churned at the thought that he could have seriously injured himself or worse, had he gone any deeper. He shook his head and tried not to think about it too much as he headed outside for work. Pencil didn’t normally have in-depth discussions with her clients but she appreciated when they occurred. She liked knowing more about what the client wanted and learning more about the client themselves. The more she had to work with, the better her product would be. “I’d like the piece to be a representation of my former life, back when I was sheltered from all the things I get to experience now." the mare across the table, Chartreuse Essence, requested. "In what way would you like that represented, exactly?" Pencil asked. As she waited for a response, she toyed with her straw in one hoof and twirled the ends of her mane with the other. Her hindhooves tapped together softly. "My current home is much more open compared to my childhood home. My old one used to intimidate me with its massive drapes that hid all traces of light. I would like, for this commission, to use that same house but with the drapes open. A glimpse of the future is what I would like you to capture. I want to be reminded of how far I've come after 'seeing the light', you could call it." Chartreuse spoke enthusiastically, clearly very passionate about her idea. "Wow, t-t-that's quite beautiful!" Pencil replied in awe. She cleared her throat to steady her breath, unsure why she stuttered. "Your idea really gives me a lot to work with! Thank you so much, Ms. Essence, for meeting with me. I know exactly what to draw now!" "I appreciate it, Ms. Pouch! Not many commissioners take the time to understand their clients like you do." Chartreuse responded, holding out a hoof. Pencil took her hoof and shook it firmly before departing. As she left, she noticed she had been holding a lot of tension in her shoulders. Why do I feel so out of it today? she worried. Unable to come up with a good explanation, she simply shook it off and made her way back home. Granite shuffled around his flower stand to arrange the rectangular flowerpots sitting below. Marigolds were placed on the left, lavenders were placed in the center, and yellow lilies were placed on the right. He thought the display looked very cheerful and calming. A customer trotted up and examined the display. A small smile graced her lips as she moved her eyes around to study the selection. Granite worried if she looked in his direction, her smile would fade if she caught the glaring red marks on his arm. Before he had time to react, she looked up, much to his horror. He froze, waiting eons for her to respond. “How much are these over here?” she asked politely, gesturing to the flowers she wanted. Granite relaxed. Good, his scars were not that noticeable. Still, he would have to be very cautious going forward. He twisted his arm and held his left hoof over it before he leaned over the counter to respond to the mare. “A single flower is two bits and a bouquet is five. Take a moment if you need to, then I can have the flowers arranged for you.” he replied. His eyes darted between his arm, the customer, and the flowers. He wished he didn’t have to keep watch like this. He also wished he had put on his hoodie earlier. Pencil was enamored with this commission. It was so in-depth and symbolic that it felt like painting a story. She began with the large, dark curtains, filling them in with thick brushstrokes. They appeared rather threatening, which made Pencil shiver upon imagining Chartreuse having to stare at these her entire foalhood. Once the curtains were done, she painted outwards and began filling up the walls. She moved along to the artwork and various antique objects that were placed about, crafting them with such detail that they nearly looked photographic. Pencil sighed, amazed that Chartreuse once lived in a house so magnificent. It was a shame that most of what made the house beautiful was hidden in shadows. Everything looked so much more beautiful in the light. The light that poured through highlighted the mansion’s best features; gold-trimmed columns that glistened and sparkled, turquoise walls that radiated tranquility, and lush velvet carpets that blanketed the marble floors. The commission represented a lot about Chartreuse, which got Pencil thinking. She thought about how her own life connected to the symbolism in this piece. She had never grown up in a secluded household but she did consider her foalhood to be sheltered. She always felt “late to the game”, learning about the harsher truths of the world much later than her peers. She was completely opposite to Granite Rose, who was exposed to trauma at a young age. He was forced to deal with the bad side of reality much sooner. How much darkness is he dealing with right now? Pencil wondered. Could he be like that old mansion, trying to look strong on the outside while hiding all this darkness inside? Pencil felt strange for comparing her friend’s situation to a metaphor. He is a real pony with real thoughts and feelings, after all. However, this metaphor helped her to better understand what he may be dealing with. From what she could gather thus far, he appeared to be under a lot of stress since his big move. It must be difficult adjusting to living alone and only having a hallucination for company. Thinking of what he must be feeling every day, especially once his shop closes, brought tears to Pencil’s eyes. She shot up, set her commission aside to dry, then marched over to Granite’s house. She wouldn’t feel right if she didn’t check on him today. Knock knock. Granite looked up from his paperwork. He wasn’t expecting anypony over. His ears drooped and his stance went rigid. Could he trust whoever was at the door? Nopony is supposed to be here. I would have known about it. Did I forget? No, I wouldn’t do that… Granite thought. Maybe…maybe it’s somepony who…isn’t supposed to be here? Oh no, what if it’s that customer from this morning! She saw my scars, didn’t she! She hid it from me and she probably sent some ponies here to collect me! No, no, no, I can’t—I have to hide, I— Knock knock! “Granite, it’s me, Pencil!” a voice outside called. Granite looked up and steadied his breath. He held a hoof to his chest and noticed his heart was pounding. Okay, so it was just Pencil Pouch. Somepony he knew. Somepony he could trust, right? Thank goodness it’s only Pencil. Still, she knows I’m not good with unexpected visitors…is she okay? Don’t proceed further. Stay beneath the table. Draw more red lines. Granite clenched his teeth. What was he supposed to do now? Thorns was blocking Granite and he wouldn’t move until Pencil left. Who knows how long that would take? “C-c-can I come in?” Pencil asked weakly. “Y…yeah! Use the key in the flowerpot!” Granite called back. Thorns snarled at him, baring his glowing eyes right into Granite’s. Granite squeezed his eyes shut then immediately reopened them due to the rapid bursts of color dancing behind his eyelids. He suddenly felt dizzy and had to lay down on his side. He felt better for a moment until he smelled the bitter scent of tar; the scent of Thorns’ tears. It was enough to make him sick. He held onto his stomach tightly, fighting the nausea. Thorns, I’m sorry, I’ll stay down, I— Click! Creak. A faint clopping of hooves could be heard. Slowly, carefully, Granite tried to hoist himself off the floor. He was unsuccessful and it wasn’t like he could get up anyways with Thorns in the way. He would have to come up with a plan. What would be a good reason for lying under the table? He dropped something, yes! He dropped something and he was searching everywhere for it. That was convincing enough. “H-hey, sorry, Pencil! I, um, dropped something under here!” he replied. “Just, um, give me a minute…” “You need help finding it?” she asked. He looked behind himself. Thorns was still there. He kept guard over the table as if it were a holding cell. “Uh, n-no, I got it! This won’t take long at all…” he told her. He shuffled around some more just to look occupied. He looked back periodically to see if those grey legs were ever going to disappear, but they never left. Granite frantically ran his hooves through his bangs. He clenched his teeth to hold back tears and tightened the muscles in his arms to prevent the sudden tingly feeling that was surfacing from them. “Granite, are you stuck down there?” Pencil asked, puzzled. She bent down to locate him. She wasn’t able to duck under the table since there was hardly any room, but she could extend a hoof out. Granite looked at it for a long time, unsure what to do. He could really aggravate Thorns right now. Then again, he really wanted to get off the floor. Tentatively, he reached out and took Pencil’s hoof. He was slid across the floor until he was able to stand up on his own. “I, uh…let me put this thing back!” he announced, hobbling to his room to put the imaginary object away. Before he returned, he made sure to grab his hoodie. As they sat on the couch, Pencil noticed Granite’s hair was frazzled and his hooves were shaking slightly, but she didn’t want to cause him further distress by bringing it up. She tried to ease her way into a conversation but kept catching her breath instead. She looked down at her hooves as a distraction but found that they were quite shaky as well. The only way to stop them, and hopefully Granite’s, also, was to start talking. “S-so, I made this really interesting commission today. I don’t have it with me since I already gave it to the client, but the symbolism she requested really stood out to me…” Pencil started, pausing to see if Granite was paying attention. “Oh?” he responded. He shifted slightly. “Yeah, it was this room in a mansion that was covered by this large drape. All the beauty of the room was hidden in darkness. Not only that, but the ponies living inside missed the chance to see any light since they were afraid of it.” she elaborated. “How exactly does it stand out to you?” Granite asked, cautiously intrigued. “I-it, um, reminded me of a similar situation. M-m-maybe you’re stuck in some darkness of your own and i-it’s covering up the rest of you?” Pencil stammered. Her eyes grew wide as she scooted back, worried she would intimidate her friend. Shoot! Does she know? Granite thought in a panic. He froze for a moment until he realized he was wearing his hoodie and Pencil had not stepped into the bathroom. He relaxed, then looked back up at his friend. “I don’t know what to say. If I say anything, I…” “How about this? How about you say whatever you need to and I won’t say anything back? Does that help?” Pencil offered. Granite thought a moment, quirking his brow. It was a strange offer but not one he was opposed to. "Alright." he agreed. "I thought about what you said about all the new stresses I might come across. I'm dealing with those, yes, and they do make things difficult. However..." Granite began. Pencil maintained a calm disposition. "Are they really why I'm so on edge or is it something deeper? The more I think about it, the more I realize that might be the case. I-I think I'm worried something's gonna happen to me, whether it be my doing or someone else's," He looked at Pencil carefully. "There are so many triggers. There's so many words I can't say and so many thoughts I can't have. It feels like I can't talk about anything without setting something off." He looked at her helplessly. Pencil really wanted to say something but kept her word. Instead, she looked at him thoughtfully and offered her arm out to him. Slowly, Granite leaned into the half-hug. ”Ugh!" Granite cried. "What's wrong?" Pencil asked quickly. “U-uh, you just hugged me a little too hard!" Granite replied just as quick, hoping to deflect the situation. Pencil relaxed slightly and Granite relaxed with her. They sat in a tired silence for a long while, eyes averted. Once they had sat for long enough, Pencil sat up and waved briefly as she departed. Granite sat on his bed and applied ointment to his cuts. Best to not let them get infected. It would be much easier to do this in the bathroom, but he knew where that would lead. When he was finished, he sighed and lowered himself onto the mattress. Sit up. Step inside the bathroom. Draw new lines. Granite sat up, a little too quickly than he meant to. He aggravated his wounds again, only adding to the frustration of the situation. Couldn't Thorns just leave him alone already? "You know what? If you want me to go in the bathroom so bad, you're gonna have to come over here and push me in." he retorted. Thorns quirked an eyebrow and grunted. Granite became equally confused and fixed himself to face Thorns. After observing each other for a moment, Granite noticed something very unusual. Thorns twitched here and there, then it became more prevalent. He got frustrated and started grunting. The grunts turned into pants, which turned into cries. His movements became more violent and sporadic, almost as if he was convulsing. Granite tried to look away but could only will himself to look down. As he did, he noticed Thorns’ lower body was completely still, despite the strain being put on it. You're locked in place... he realized. Thorns’ breathing became less severe and his gaze softened. A few extra black tears had stained his face, Granite noticed. A twinge of sadness arose in Granite as he stared at the tired pony across from him. This must be what flowers feel like, he thought, swaying in many directions but too firmly rooted to travel.