Chpt. 7 - Why Don’t You Know Me?
Sunday, March 23
Diamond Tiara hated being punished. She hated it so much.
She hated it because it usually meant having to do a bunch of boring things that she didn’t want to do. She also hated it because it also sometimes meant not getting to do a bunch of fun things she did want to do. She hated that same disparaging look the grown-ups got in their eyes right before they shouted her full name in that loud, mean-spirited tone; she hated the stiff, condescending way they looked down at her as they told her what she’d allegedly done wrong; she hated that disgusting feeling she got in her stomach as they lectured to her like she was some kind of villain; and she really hated the way they always kept insisting it was all for "her own good."
But the main reason she hated it was because it was always for something that wasn’t her fault.
Friday’s little mishap was no different. She wasn’t the one who had broken somepony’s tiara. She wasn’t the one who had criticized somepony’s tetherball skills. She wasn’t the one who had said all somepony was good at was wearing a crown!
Yet, despite all that, Miss Cheerilee somehow saw fit to punish her. So what if she got into a little scuffle with Apple Bloom? It wasn’t like anypony got seriously hurt or anything. Besides, if she had let that bow-wearing yellow nuisance get away with something like that, the consequences would be disastrous. Miss Cheerilee didn’t understand any of that, though, so naturally she overreacted.
That essay that Diamond Tiara had been given as punishment that day was just too much of an insult for her to actually write herself. She had asked Silver Spoon to do it for her as a favor since she was the only one she knew who could properly capture her voice on paper. If she had asked anypony else to do it, they’d have never gotten it right. Everything would have been just fine if her dad hadn’t come home early and Silver Spoon hadn’t cracked under pressure, but how was any of that her fault?
How did that warrant her having to spend part of her weekend stuck in class writing another stupid, boring paper about something that didn’t even apply to her? It was supposed to be 1000 words long this time, but she was having trouble just coming up with the first hundred, and Miss Cheerilee was keeping a close eye on her the whole time to make sure there was no "funny business."
"How’s this, Miss Cheerilee?" Silver Spoon asked, setting her own paper on top of her teacher's desk.
Cheerilee took the paper, laid it on her desk, and quickly read through it at her teacher-level reading speed. "Excellent, Silver Spoon," she praised before sharpening her tone a bit, "and I hope you learned your lesson about doing other ponies’ work for them."
"Yes, Miss Cheerilee," Silver Spoon grumbled. She shot an impassive glance toward her friend who was busy angrily biting her eraser as she struggled to come up with the next sentence of her own essay.
"Well, I certainly hope so," Cheerilee replied. "It’s very important that you understand the consequences that your actions can cause. The decisions we make determine the path our lives follow. Good decisions lead us down the path to good things, and bad ones lead to nothing but trouble."
"So, can I, like, go now please?" the gray filly asked impatiently.
Cheerilee felt a little disappointed that the filly seemed to disregard her words of wisdom, but she had completed the assignment as she had been instructed. Besides, Silver Spoon wasn’t the one Cheerilee was worried about at the moment.
"Of course, Silver Spoon, enjoy the rest of your weekend!" she cheerfully replied.
"Thank you, Miss Cheerilee," Silver Spoon said, giving her friend a sympathetic, encouraging grin as she proceeded out of the classroom. Diamond Tiara smiled back, watching from her desk in envy as the gray filly gleefully strolled outside, no longer being forced to write a stupid essay on violence or dishonesty.
As soon as Silver Spoon had left, Diamond Tiara dropped her smile and began whining, "Miss Cheerilee, this isn’t fair! Why does my essay have to be so much longer than Silver Spoon’s? And why wasn’t Apple Bloom even punished at all? I mean, she’s the one who started all this!"
Cheerilee directed her attention to her irritable student as her cheerful expression faded into a much graver one. The teacher had spent the better part of the morning hearing Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon give their side of the story regarding the whole fake essay situation, and she wasn’t happy with what she heard. She had hoped their reasoning would make their actions seem a bit more justified than Mr. Rich had made it out to be, but if anything it just made them seem even worse. From the sound of their story, Diamond Tiara hadn’t even considered writing that paper and asked Silver Spoon to do it almost immediately after it was assigned to her. Silver Spoon at least seemed apologetic enough about the whole ordeal, but Diamond Tiara seemed more…annoyed. There was definitely a deeper issue here than just this one little mishap, and Cheerilee needed to get to the bottom of it. She moved out from behind her desk to approach her troublemaking student and respond to her griping.
"I think Apple Bloom has gone through quite enough already. Don’t you agree, Diamond Tiara?"
Diamond Tiara sneered at her teacher’s question as she turned her head to look at the floor. "Enough? Did you forget, Miss Cheerilee? She broke my tiara!" She looked back toward her teacher for a sign of acknowledgment.
"And I’m truly sorry that happened to you, but can you honestly tell me that you believe that justifies the way you behaved?" Cheerilee asked as she arrived at the desk on the far left side of the room where her student was sitting.
"Of course it does! How could it—" Diamond Tiara stopped herself as soon as she noted the glare her teacher was giving her. Clearly, she wasn’t going to accomplish anything by arguing that point. "No," she huffed, crossing her forelegs and pouting.
"Good, then it seems we’re making some progress here after all," the teacher said, her tone calming down. "Now, as for Silver Spoon, I just thought that since she already wrote an essay yesterday, it would be fair if she had a bit less to write today. I also thought it would be fair if you made up the assignment that Silver Spoon already did for you. Do you understand, Diamond Tiara? Don’t you agree that’s fair?"
"No, I don’t, because I shouldn’t have even been punished in the first place," Diamond Tiara arrogantly replied, continuing to pout and eye the floor as if she were talking to it.
Cheerilee sighed and her expression morphed into one of sadness rather than anger. "Listen, sweetie, I don’t want to have to keep punishing you like this."
A smile appeared across Diamond Tiara’s face at the sound of her teacher’s remark as she looked back up. "Really? That’s great!" She sprang out of her desk like a frightened tree frog and excitedly skipped toward the exit. Cheerilee countered her student’s premature departure by sliding in front of her path, blocking the filly from leaving the room.
"However, if you refuse to improve your behavior, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice," she continued, her stern expression finding its second wind.
"What?! Improve…my behavior?" Diamond Tiara asked, her teacher’s words making her eye twitch in disbelief. "Miss Cheerilee, I think you’re mistaking me for one of your other students. Nopony has better behavior than I do," she proudly assured as she recollected herself.
"Sit back down, Diamond Tiara," Cheerilee firmly commanded, her glare getting more penetrating by the second.
"Yes, Miss Cheerilee," Diamond Tiara groused as she stomped back to her desk, not particularly caring for her teacher’s attitude.
"Now I want you to listen to me," Cheerilee stated. "There’s something that’s come to my attention recently that’s concerning me, and I wanted to discuss it with you."
Diamond Tiara maliciously eyed the paper on her desk. She’d rather talk about anything with her teacher than continue trying to hash out more nonsense for this worthless assignment. Her scowl transformed into a smirk, and she cordially told her teacher, "Of course, Miss Cheerilee. I’d be happy to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you. What is it? Is Snails eating paste again? Is Scootaloo falling asleep in class? Is somepony just getting on your nerves?"
Cheerilee thought about going there, but decided against it. "Actually, this is a bit more serious than any of that."
Diamond Tiara’s smirk faded after noticing how grim her teacher looked all of a sudden and stared up at her with a blank expression of mild intrigue.
"I wanted to talk with you about…your tiara."
Monday, March 31
The supernatural elements of life don’t like me. I don’t know why. I don’t know how. They just don’t and they never have. Maybe I insulted their favorite sports team, maybe I’m on their naughty list, or maybe that Reed guy was right and I am just that boring. All I know is that if something is not of this world, it doesn’t want a thing to do with me, and that truth used to drive me up the wall, through the roof, back down the chimney, and then back up the wall again.
You see, in my younger days, before I dedicated my life to higher learning, my whole life revolved around a single dream. It was a simple single dream but not one that many other people had. That dream was to go on a supernatural adventure.
All I wanted was to have just one grand, exciting paranormal escapade like the ones you see in those documentary movies. I always imagined how much fun it would be to feel the excitement of getting abducted by aliens or being forced to live through the same day over and over again. I would have traded my power food for just one little temporal disruption. However, despite how many birthday wishes I wasted on it, I never even managed to participate in as much as an interdimensional tea party.
I remember how unfair I used to think it was. Nature pestered me like a clerk from an electronics store, but supernature wouldn’t even give me the time of day. I just couldn’t accept that. It was trying to give me the cold shoulder, and as I've said before, cold is something I cannot tolerate. I didn’t care how much it tried to ignore me. I wasn't going to let anything stop me from getting my adventure.
I was fanatical about it. I lived to discover the strange and unusual. I tried to take part in so much supernatural craziness that people thought I was from another world. Swords in rocks, living fire, floating heads, bed bugs, I saw it all. Yet, the closest thing I got to an adventure from any of it was helping to fix that dam after sleeping through the town’s only giant monster attack in five seasons. I mean, one would think that with all the opportunities I had, I would have had plenty of adventures throughout the course of my childhood. Don’t listen to one, though. One doesn’t know what he’s saying.
Once, I went to a presumably haunted house late at night to see if I could befriend a ghost and have some ghostly fun with it, but every door I entered in the place led me back outside. I searched that whole place trying to find something white and creepy to scare me, but the closest thing I found were the curtains on the third floor. Eventually the house just locked me out and wouldn’t let me back in. I wasn’t about to give up, though. I went to the graveyard around back to see if I could find something undead to play with, but then those spectral jerks called my parents to take me home!
Although, that’s nothing compared to the time I saw a news segment on television about a vicious, green monster rumored to be living in our lake. I was really excited about that one, so I took all the necessary precautions. I grabbed my crayons, drew up some scuba gear, got out my old butterfly net, and even got my parents’ permission first. I dove into the depths of that lake and looked for that monster for nearly two hours until it finally made its move. I couldn’t hold back my excitement as it grabbed me by my oxygen tank and started dragging me across the lake like I was its stuffed toy. I just knew that monster was going to take me to its cave, stick me to its wall, and I’d have the time of my life trying to escape. Imagine my disappointment when all it did was pull me back up to the surface of the lake and aggressively throw me back onto dry land. By the time I pulled my head out of the ground, all I found was a note it had written in the sand, chastising me for my reckless behavior. It had horrible penmanship, so I couldn’t make out every word, but it said something about me being too young to go messing around with dangerous lake monsters. It even confiscated my butterfly net!
To this day, I don’t get what it was saying about danger. Practically everyone’s major supernatural experiences take place when they’re ten if they’re not me. Once there was a big zombie infestation that broke out in my elementary school. Teachers and students were getting infected left and right, and they had to quarantine the whole building to keep them from spreading to the general public. The fifteen students who hadn’t been infected had to barricade themselves in their classroom for a whole week until they could scrounge together a cure. After that, they engineered some medicine cannons so they could shoot down all their teachers and classmates and turn them back to normal. Guess who had the chicken pox that week?
Really, that’s what frustrated me about the whole ordeal more than anything else. This wasn’t a problem in my family. This wasn’t a problem in my neighborhood. It was just my problem. Practically everyone I knew had at least four or five crazy stories about the times they got to challenge the limits of reality. They didn’t want it half as much as I did, and yet they all got to taste the sweet fruit cocktail of the paranormal, while I was stuck licking the toestubbing empty glass of normal life.
My sister learned to play an ancient board game from the spirit of a legendary Byzantine emperor, my parents had their second honeymoon on Mars after they fell through a rift in the space-time continuum, and even my boring first-grade math teacher had some stories about his old roommate, the Bogeyman. I bet that guy never dropped anyone’s toothbrush on the floor.
It just baffled me back then. Adventures were being handed out like candy to everyone else, but when I came along to ask for some, it was all, "Sorry, fresh out." I was like a cat trying to catch a mouse or a rabbit trying to get some cereal. It’s like there was some kind of supernatural force keeping supernatural forces away from me, and wouldn’t that just be the way? The only logical explanation for it all was that reality itself didn’t want me and anything supernatural doing anything even potentially adventurous together, and that’s exactly how it’s played out ever since.
That’s how I saw it. That was what I knew to be true. That’s what I’ve been telling myself for the past however long it’s been now just so I could move on with my life and make something of myself.
So then, Reality, as a man of science and rational thought, I’ve got a semi-reasonable question for you about this odd-looking, faceless heap of shimmering, aqueous goo you decided to dangle in front of me this morning like some kind of tantalizing dreamscape.
What in the name of my glittery hands am I looking at here?
Sunday, March 23
Diamond Tiara had no idea where that statement came from, but something about it sent an ominous chill up her spine. "Wh-what about my tiara, Miss Cheerilee?" she asked after letting it sink in for a few seconds.
"Well, for starters, I had a little chat with Apple Bloom yesterday about what happened on Friday, and she told me you didn’t seem to care much about your tiara being broken."
Diamond Tiara was taken aback by those words. "What…what are you talking about, Miss Cheerilee? Of course I cared! I’ve had that tiara ever since I got my cutie mark! I could buy all of Ponyville with its sentimental value alone!"
"I see…and is that why you threw it on the ground and stomped it to pieces?"
Diamond Tiara tensed up a bit. She hadn’t counted on her teacher finding out about that little fact. She nervously played with her pencil as she tried to explain.
"Um…well, I…I was just—"
"And I’ve noticed that you were so upset about your broken tiara that you already went out and got yourself a new one."
Cheerilee’s observation was correct. Resting on Diamond Tiara’s head was a replacement tiara, practically identical to her old one. The frame was a bit pointier, but the color scheme and general shape still matched her cutie mark as flawlessly as ever.
"Oh, this old thing?" Diamond Tiara asked innocently. "This was just a spare I had lying in the back of my closet. I didn’t want it just sitting there and gathering dust. Is that so wrong?"
"Well, no," Cheerilee replied, stopping her student’s pencil with her hoof, "but, you see, this is exactly the sort of thing I wanted to discuss with you. When I talked with Apple Bloom yesterday, she didn’t tell me you were upset that your tiara was broken. What she said was that you were upset because you weren’t wearing one."
Diamond Tiara perked up after her teacher finished her sentence. That was it! That was the perfect statement she needed to break out of this prison sentence! The path to victory had just been served to her on a silver platter, perfectly prepared for her to scarf down.
Without a moment of hesitation, she put on the saddest face she could manage and got right to work on her dramatic performance.
"They’re right, Miss Cheerilee! I just felt so lost without my tiara. It was like a part of me was just knocked off my head and smashed into a wall. Even worse, nopony else even seemed to care. I tried to be reasonable about it, but all they did was insult me! They said that crown was all I was! I guess I let my emotions get the best of me. You understand, don’t you Miss Cheerilee?" She looked up at her teacher with the most adorable eyes she could manifest.
Cheerilee could tell her student was trying to do exactly what Filthy Rich had warned her about, although even knowing that didn’t make it any easier to resist that look. Diamond Tiara’s expression made her look almost too sweet to be guilty of anything ever. If the schoolteacher hadn’t recalled what she was trying to figure out, she might have broken down, apologized, and let the filly go right there. She just had to remember that this was all for Diamond Tiara’s own good.
"Diamond Tiara, why is your tiara so important to you?" the teacher asked in a compassionate tone, trying her best to stay focused.
Diamond Tiara had to deactivate her adorableness after her teacher’s baffling question. "Um, excuse me? Isn’t that kind of obvious?"
"Well, you said it was like a part of you, right? Why is that exactly? Is it because of your name?"
"N-no! Well, yes, but that’s not the only reason!" Diamond Tiara couldn’t believe she had to explain something so basic.
"My tiara is my pride and joy! It’s the key to my whole image. It’s what lets everypony know how impressed they need to be when they’re in my presence. Without it, how are all the common ponies out there supposed to know that I’m…that I’m…" She struggled to come up with the proper phrase to finish her thought.
"Better than all of them?" Cheerilee finished for her.
"Exactly! I’m so glad we’re on the same page!" Diamond Tiara exclaimed with the most enthusiasm she’d shown since her attempted escape.
"Right…" Cheerilee turned away from her beaming student and walked back to her desk to grab a piece of paper resting on it. She came back and placed it on top of Diamond Tiara’s desk.
Diamond Tiara immediately recognized the amazing piece of artwork she had created about a week ago the second her teacher set it down. She had known it was only a matter of time before she received proper recognition for her incredible artistic talents. However, her teacher’s next sentence wasn’t as glorifying as she anticipated.
"Diamond Tiara, can you explain this to me?"
Once again, the teacher’s question baffled Diamond Tiara. She was certain she had done the assignment correctly. At the very least, she had done a better job than anyone else in class.
She leaned forward and looked it over again to make sure there wasn’t anything obvious about it that could have upset Miss Cheerilee. Nothing was really standing out. It looked absolutely perfect. How could it not? It was a picture of her.
"This is my self-portrait, Miss Cheerilee. Remember? You had us draw how we saw ourselves during that big rainstorm last week. Isn’t it just the most perfectly crafted work of art you’ve ever seen in your entire teaching career?" She held the picture up so her teacher could take another look at it.
"Well, I’ve certainly never seen anything quite like it before. I was just wondering why you decided to go in this…interesting direction with it," Cheerilee stated as she lowered the drawing back onto the desk.
"You flatter me, Miss Cheerilee. I just thought that since everypony else was getting carried away drawing their own little fantasy worlds, I’d show a little initiative and draw how things really are since, you know, you always told us honesty is the best policy."
"How things really are?"
"I just find it sad the other students can’t admit it to themselves, but at least we both know the truth, right, Miss Cheerilee?" She took another captivated look at her artwork.
"We do?" Cheerilee's right eyebrow rose to the top of her forehead.
"Of course. You said it best yourself. I’m better than all those poor other foals, and as their superior I just wish they'd stop deluding themselves into thinking they could possibly be more special than I am. Can you imagine how disappointed they'll end up in a few years if they go through life thinking like that?"
"Yes, that would be quite the travesty," Cheerilee dully replied.
Not picking up on her teacher’s implied sarcasm, the pink filly proudly raised her head and carried on with her head-engorging monologue.
"I’ll be honest, Miss Cheerilee. It can be pretty stressful being the best at everything, but I’m just the type of generous pony who’s willing to accept the responsibility of making sure that everypony else knows exactly why I’m the best whenever I can."
"I see…and how does that relate to your tiara again?"
Diamond Tiara adjusted her shiny headpiece on her head before replying, "It’s very simple, Miss Cheerilee. My tiara is my symbol. From my head to my flank, it reminds everypony how special I really am. Even though some ponies don’t respect it"—she paused to glare angrily at the ground again as she recalled the tetherball incident, resuming her prideful grin before continuing—"I always wear it so that nopony ever forgets that I’m the most amazing, spectacular pony in all of Ponyville."
"I think I understand now, Diamond Tiara."
"I’m glad I could help, Miss Cheerilee. So, can I go now? I promised Silver Spoon I’d meet up with her later to..."
It was all so sudden. Diamond did not even have a chance to react to it. At first she thought it was a mistake, a joke, a slip of the hoof. Why wouldn’t it be? Everything was going great. However, as the seconds passed without anything being done to rectify what had been done, Diamond suddenly feared that this punishment had become very serious.
"M-miss Cheerilee, w-why did you just take my tiara?" she asked nervously as her teacher walked away, with the sparkly headpiece clamped between her teeth.
The teacher dropped it onto her desk to explain, "I’m sorry, Diamond Tiara. I’ve tried to hear things from your side, and, frankly, what I’ve heard concerns me even more your little essay trick. You leave me no choice. Until you can show me that you can appreciate ponies other than yourself, you will not be allowed to wear a tiara in my classroom."
"Y-you can’t be serious! Have you seen the other ponies in this town? They’re about as special as a pile of wood chippings!"
"And it’s that kind of attitude that’s exactly why I have to do this. You need to understand that there’s more to life than behaving as if you’re better than everypony else all the time."
"But Miss Cheerilee, I am better than everypony else! I thought we had established that already. I’ve got the best social skills, I have the most talent, I’m smarter than anypony I know, and don’t even get me started about how much prettier I am."
"That’s quite enough, young lady. It’s one thing to have special gifts, but that in no way entitles you to say that you’re better than other ponies because of them."
"But, but…this isn’t fair! I just lost my tiara!" Diamond argued. "You can’t take it away from me again!"
"I’m know what this must seem like, but I can and I must," Cheerilee stoically replied.
"But that was my birthday gift from my dad! He’s not going to like this!"
"Actually, this was your dad’s idea."
"What?" Diamond slammed her hooves onto her desk, leaning up on her desk in utter shock.
"He told me that the only way to make you truly learn your lesson was to take away what makes you think so highly of yourself. I thought it sounded a bit harsh when he brought it up, but now I see he was absolutely right."
"But…but…but…" Diamond could see all her doors closing. There was only one thing left to try.
"Miss Cheerilee, wait!" she shouted, practically standing on her desk. "I…I was just joking!"
"Joking?" Cheerilee gave her student a very skeptical look.
Diamond sat down again. "Yeah, you know, it was all just a joke. 'Special as a bunch of wood chippings'. Ha ha. Pretty funny, huh?" Diamond laughed nervously and drew up her best smile, trying to make her claim seem believable.
"So, you don’t think you’re better than anypony?"
"Of…course…not," Diamond forced out of her mouth against all odds.
"All right then," Cheerilee replied, leaning forward until her face was a few inches away from her student’s. "Look me in the eyes, and tell me that Snails is just as special as you are."
Diamond’s eyes got as wide as they could possibly get. Despite how close her teacher’s eyes were, she found it hard to look into them as she stuttered, "S-Snails…Snails is…j-j-j--oh, come on, that’s not fair, Miss Cheerilee! He eats paste!"
Cheerilee pulled away from her student, shaking her head in disappointment. "I think you better make that essay 1200 words, Diamond Tiara. It seems to me you still have a bit to learn about trying to lie your way out of trouble."
Diamond tried to protest, but the only sounds she could get to come out of her mouth couldn’t even be interpreted as words anymore. She was completely out of ideas.
Cheerilee turned away and walked back to her desk, leaving what was left of her student to face the rest of her punishment.
Diamond couldn’t even tell what emotion she was feeling at the moment. She knew it wasn’t happiness, but aside from that she was clueless. She felt partly upset that she had lost the only two tiaras she owned in the span of one weekend. She felt partly frustrated that one of them was just lying on her teacher’s desk, mocking her while she was forced to write a stupid essay about something she didn’t even care about. She felt partly betrayed that her own dad wanted to deprive his daughter of her most prized possession--that he had bought her, no less. She felt partly confused as to what exactly she had done to deserve all this punishment. She even felt a little scared that she’d never get to wear another tiara for the rest of her life, considering what she'd have to do to get it back.
All these emotions swirled around in her head, leaving the filly uncertain of which one to express. However, there was one thought in her mind that she absolutely knew to be true. She hated being punished. She hated it so much.
Monday, March 31
I have no idea what emotion I should be feeling right now. Really, your guess is as good as mine. On the one hand, I’ve lost all my interest in my dream of becoming a psychologist, so I could be distressed. On the other hand, there’s a large mass of yuck hovering in midair in front of me that I’m 93% certain has some kind of supernatural origin, so I could be excited. Of course, regardless of which hand I'm looking at, both of them are glowing, so I think I mostly just feel confused.
I don’t have a clue about what this stuff is. I’ve seen so many different forms of supernatural activity, but expressionless, floating sludge is not one of them. Maybe it’s a psychic collection of energy that can bestow great power on those who know its activation code. Maybe it’s a shapeshifting being that tried to take the form of itself and got stuck in an infinite loop. Maybe it’s a glob of transparent pudding that somehow learned how to fly. In any case, does it really even matter? As long as it’s supernatural, I'm sure it'll turn out just like all the others: a disappointment.
Yet, something seems wrong here. If this goopy mess is supernatural, why is it here? Nothing supernatural ever happens on campus, and I've only even seen anything supernatural by actively searching for it. This one came to me. There’s no way I can walk away from this without knowing what it is. I just need to approach it scientifically. I bet if I just touched it, I’d be able to deduce all there is to know about it, probably because I’ll be either turning it on or waking it up in the process.
Okay, that’s the thirteenth time I’ve come to that conclusion. Why won’t my arm move? Am I really that afraid that it’s just going to be another weird-looking waste of my time?
No, that’s not it. Even if it just disappears after I touch it, I have to at least try. I’d split into two of me and pulverize myself if I found out I missed my one and only opportunity to realize my age-old dream of fantastical adventurement. There’s something else that’s keeping my arm still, and I’m afraid I might know what it is. It's not that I'm worried it'll disappoint me. I'm worried that it won't.
Don’t get me wrong. I still want my adventure. Honestly, I do. Call me childish, but I refuse to let go of my dreams of riding through space on a surfboard or fighting an unstoppable sea behemoth with my bare hands. Those dreams probably fell into obscurity along with my childhood addiction to lollipops around the same time I became interested in psychology, but they've always been right there in the back of my cerebrum, waiting for some miracle to bring them to life. It’s not that I don’t want it anymore. It’s just that…how do I put this?
See, if I were still a child and saw this gelatinous anomaly in front of me, I’d be bouncing off the walls of the convenience store and kissing random passersby in a state of blind ecstasy. I’d stick both my hands right through this goop, take a bite out of it, stick some of it in a jar for later, name it, get its autograph, take a picture of myself with it, and then probably ask it to marry me.
Only...I’m not ten anymore. I’m a college student. I’ve got a work schedule that could rival Santa’s. As of this morning, I’ve got a spiky-haired, narcissistic tennischess captain counting on me to recruit some new members for our club. Most importantly, I’ve got my entire career trying to change directions on me, and I need to figure out how to handle that as well. I have no idea what sort of supernatural entity this is, and if I touch it, it could potentially send me somewhere that could take decades for me to get back. Sure, it would be the most amazing experience that life could ever sneeze at me, but afterwards I’d have to catch up on all the work I missed. After that much lost time, I’d be writing term papers during my funeral.
I’m not a child anymore. I can’t afford to take a risk like this. I have to be responsible and consider the consequences. Oddly enough, that lake monster's lecture fits perfectly into this situation. This kind of reckless behavior isn't right for someone my age. It pains me to say it, but…I’m too old for my dream now. I just don’t have the time to pursue it anymore.
I don’t realize how depressed that thought makes me until a rain cloud appears over my head and the rain plummets onto my scalp. Funny, I don’t remember any rain clouds showing up when my psychology-related dreams were crushed a few hours ago. I guess that goes to show which dream wears the crown in my dream kingdom.
At least I don’t feel angry. Thunderclouds are much more of a hassle to deal with than rainclouds.
I just can’t believe it. My one big chance that I’ve wanted all my life…right in front of me. It’s literally right at my fingertips. It’s just floating there, taunting me with its unusuality and strangeness, and my responsibilities are holding me back. Like some twisted game it’s playing with me, supernature finally gives me my break from normal life, and now, thanks to my normal life, I can’t accept it.
Why, Supernature? Why do you detest me so much?
I still can’t walk away. My feet and hands seem to be arguing whether to stay or to leave, so they’ve unanimously decided to remain completely still until they recount the votes. Whatever part of my brain is telling me how irresponsible it would be to touch that goop is being countered by another part telling me how stupid it would be to let another opportunity for adventure slip through my fingers.
All I can do is stand there in the freezing rain, in springtime, mind you, and scavenge my brain for an answer as the storms both inside my head and outside it disheartens the BGM.
"There you are! Glad I caught you!" a voice calls out from behind me as the BGM takes off like a Saturday night dance number.
I refuse to even take my eyes off the goo just in case it decides to suddenly vanish on me. "Reed?" I call out, recognizing his voice from before.
"How’s it going?" he asks, his footsteps approaching me from behind. "I’m glad you’re still here. I wanted to ask you something." His squarish head comes into view as he walks right past me and my gooey associatewithout so much as reacting to it. He turns around and stands so that the goo is right between us, glancing right through it as if there’s nothing there.
Can he not see it? Is this something only I can see? Don’t do this to me, Supernature. I can't handle a scenario that perfect!
Fortunately, the goo’s just barely transparent enough that I can still see Reed through it without taking my eyes off it. In his hands are a small stack of books that’s just short enough for him to see over. He sets them down on the sidewalk and pulls one over his head to use it as makeshift cover from all the rain coming down around us. After that, he looks straight at my insincerely smiling face with his giant pupils and curiously asks me, "What’s love?"
A question mark pops out of my head as his question registers. I don’t know what closet he pulled that monster out of, but I’m not really in the mood to deal with random tangents right now. I decide to drum up a quick, simple answer, so I put all my brain power into recalling what I’d written for that one psychology paper last semester and try to parrot it back.
"Science is still in the process of pinpointing all the related elements, but we have determined that certain chemicals in the brain such as dopamine and norepinephrine assist in stimulating the initial signs of the emotion. Back in the early—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he shouts, stopping my explanation. "I already know all that. I meant in tennischess. I’ve been looking through all these books about how to play, and I keep seeing the term everywhere, but all of them seem to assume I already know what it means."
"Oh," I reply, a bit embarrassed at my misunderstanding, though still more focused on the goo. "Love is just a person’s score when he hasn’t captured any of his opponent’s pieces yet. It means you have zero points."
He looks down at the top book on the stack, opens it to the first page and tells it, "Now was that so hard?" He shakes his head and walks around his stack of books to grab my shoulder, "Thanks again, man. Just you wait. By next week, I’m gonna be the best tennischess player your club has ever seen. I’ll do you proud."
"Great," I exclaim, pretending to be excited for him as I remain focused on something that’s holding more of my interest.
"What are you looking at?" he asks, looking directly at the center of the goo, again with no reaction.
He can’t see it. I can, but he can’t. Sure, I can’t really say how good his vision is with those giant glasses of his, but still…
"I’m looking at…the floating goo," I say, not being able to come up a more believable response as to why I’d be so fervently staring at nothing.
"The floating goo? What are you talking about? I don’t see any…oh, I gotcha. You’re having an encounter, aren’t you?"
He automatically interprets my blank silence as "yes", and goes on to say, "Oh, man. Those things are the best. I remember all the good times I had with my encounters going back in time and slaying vampire cyborgs. Those definitely have to be the most memorable and amazing experiences of my whole life. No question."
Calm down, hands. You are not allowed to slap his face off. No, not even a little.
"Although, aren’t you a bit old for that kind of thing? I mean, it’s great when you’re a kid, but don’t you think you should be a bit more concerned about your future? Encounters can change lives, you know. I don’t want to see my new best friend throwing his life away for some floating goo."
How are we best friends? You don’t even know my real name.
A bolt of lightning comes down from above, barely missing us both, and Reed looks up to see the huge cloud overhead that’s growing by the second. "It is really coming down hard right now, isn’t it?"
He looks back and forth between the cloud and me a couple of times. "Wait a second. Is that thundercloud yours?"
I erroneously nod, prompting him to ask me, "What’s the problem, pal? Don’t tell me you lost your bejeepers, because I can’t draw half as well as you can."
Actually, you're the problem. Go away.
"It’s nothing," I assure, my smile remaining constant despite how fake it must look given all the rain. "I just…need some time alone…to think."
"O-okay," he replies hesitantly. "Take all the time you need. I'm gonna get back to work on memorizing these books. Now that I know what love is, I’ll have it all down by the end of the day." He picks up his huge stack of books, shoves them into his hammerspace, and transitions away, leaving me alone again for some more thinking in the rain.
Love.
I think that word sums up my relationship with the supernatural perfectly. All I want is to spend some quality time with it, and it’s driven me crazy my whole life by ignoring me. That sounds like love to me, although in the other sense of the word, it’s probably even more relevant. If my experiences with the supernatural were a game of tennischess, then despite all my efforts, my score’s still zero. I haven't captured a single piece. This goop is one of those pieces, and whether it’s out of pity or stupidity, supernature moved one of their pieces into a position where I can capture it. As a hardworking college student, I should just walk away. However, as an avid tennischess player, I refuse to let supernature walk away with a perfect victory!
I don't know what comes over me. All I know is that my stream of thoughts completely snaps me right out of my paralysis. At that moment, the cloud above me fades away as my mind basically shuts off to completely focus on the goo. I suddenly regain control of my whole body as I forcibly shove my glowing hand directly into that goop with a muddled splash. As expected, my hand making contact with the substance starts a reaction. The form of that reaction, though, is not what I expected. The goo starts swirling around my hand like one of those cotton candy machines, and then...
Then it starts eating me.
First it devours my hand, works its way up my arm, encompasses my torso, and starts expanding up towards my neck and down toward my legs. It doesn’t actually hurt, and I believe my fear got turned off with the rest of my brain, but I’m sure I look ridiculous seeing as how no one else can see the goo. As the goop consumes every part of me and prepares to swallow the last bit of my head, only one thought manages to sneak back into it.
This was a good idea, right?