//------------------------------// // Tap. Pause. // Story: False Memory // by TypewriterError //------------------------------// The bars are gone from my room. Dream or real I don’t care. I stand in front of the window where only the stars are visible and keep my eyes closed. I’m holding another letter. It was waiting under my pillow like I knew it would be. It’s a letter I read against my better judgment. Once again...I just don’t know. I have memories but which ones are real and which ones came from suggestion or wishing? This letter is one of many that keep appearing to me lately. I usually throw them away. I used to give them to Dr. Cruebel or Sarah but I just throw them out myself now. Not this one. I opened it and I have no idea why. Now I’m even more uncertain of everything. Dear Princess Celestia, It’s almost been a year since you and Luna disappeared. The other Elements of Harmony and I are doing everything we can to keep Equestria stable. It’s not working. We need you because we don’t know what to do. Please, come back. Your Faithful Student, Twilight Sparkle This brings more questions than answers. Was that one dream really Luna or was that completely fake too? I keep my eyes closed. The moon rose that night. I remember how full and close it seemed. It hasn’t entered the night sky for a while. Luna couldn’t have hugged me then in my human form. She probably wouldn’t have wanted to. But...what was the other dream then? Could the first Luna have been him? Gah! No, he would never hug me while I’m a human. Besides, he’s not real anyway. I walk to my dresser and hide the note inside one of my shirts. If this isn’t a dream I’ll find it tomorrow. At first I think the screeching comes from the drawer as I close it. But, when the wood stops moving and the sound is still there I realize something is wrong. Someone is screeching, maybe for help. I press my ear to the crack in my door and listen hard. Someone else will take care of it. I can’t help anyway. I might even make it worse. I open my door to hear if anyone is running to help. All I hear is the screaming. Sarah’s crying out for help; probably with an unruly patient. I can’t help her. I’m not allowed. The screaming is cut off. I wrap my hands around my neck for warmth as I shiver. Why did the screaming stop? Why did it stop? Not why did it just stop but why was it...cut off? Why is it so quiet? I smack my ears just to hear them ring. No, I haven’t gone deaf. I want to shout. I want there to be noise. I want to know that everything is all right. She needs to scream again. I need to hear noise. I need to hear noise or find out myself if she's all right. No, I can't help. I'm not allowed. She could be anywhere. I can't save her... I can't save her. I’m running. I don’t know where I’m going but I push open each door I run into. I hear snarling coming but I just run faster. Something is wrong. I push open the last door and stop at the scene before me. I see Dr. Cruebel first. He stands in front of me, tense. He turns his head slightly at my entry but always keeps most of his face towards something in the room. It’s the woman who bit me. Her bloodshot eyes are dilated as she bares her bloodstained teeth. Blood covers her like a web draped over her face and clothes. It’s Sarah’s blood. As I look under Dr. Cruebel’s outstretched arm, blocking my path, I see Sarah lying in a growing pool of her own blood. The iron scent reaches my nose and I’m sick to my stomach. “I wouldn’t normally ask you to do this. But, do you think you can help me?” “Yes, Dr. Cruebel.” I say. “I’m going to get Lucy sedated. I want you to put pressure on Sarah’s wounds so the bleeding will stop. Are you ready?” “Yes.” As I speak he leaps at Lucy. Her eyes widen even more. When she looks at me her mouth opens, hungry to bite again. Dr. Cruebel grabs her left wrist in his left hand and uses his arm to trap her against the wall. Her right wrist is pinned under his elbow and she begins to thrash against him. He uses his left leg to bar her own legs down so she can’t kick him. With his right hand he reaches into his pocket. I land on my knees next to Sarah’s head. Her left side of her face is painted with a coat of red. Her eyes plead with me. Her sweaty skin is yellow and her trembling lips are lavender. Her shoulder is torn, literally torn. Muscle fibers are frayed and pressed into teeth marks. She’s chilled when I try to use my hands to stop the blood flow. Her eyes dart around. She’s in shock. She can’t die like this. I almost did and it was hell. She doesn’t deserve to die like this. I begin shaking myself as her blood seeps into my pajamas. My hands aren’t growing sticky because there is still too much blood to keep them from drying. The smell almost grows overwhelming. Sarah can’t even move except for her face. Her breathing grows more and more shallow. “Please, just try to hold on. Don’t let yourself fall asleep.” I urge her. My knuckles are white under the blood that paints them. A body falls to the floor and I look up to see Dr. Cruebel running away, probably to get some bandages. I want to wake up. I don’t want to see this happening. My hands are hurting as I keep gripping her shoulder, trying to hold her muscle together so the bleeding will stop killing her. She’s too young to die. Young people die everyday but why does she have to? She’s stopped breathing. I know the sound of her blood stopping creates a deafening scream in her ear. I shout so she can still hear me. “Don’t do this to me! Come on! Don’t fall asleep on me!” I am a hair from her face, screaming hysterically. I put my hand under her neck and she takes another small breath, but only one. “Don’t...please...just don’t.” I sob, resting my forehead against her own. She can’t die like this. She has to live. She has to keep fighting. Already she grows colder. I wrap the arm I have free around her while begging her in frantic mumblings to not give up. She can’t die like this. I feel her body warming, probably from my own body heat. I hold her close, as if trying to force life back into her. My hand is still locked around her shoulder. “You won’t die like this...Please don’t give up on me. Please don’t die on me...please just breathe again.” I hear Dr. Cruebel run back in. He stops. Why is he stopping? He need to help me! She's not dead yet! Sarah takes a breath; a small one. Another one? Please? Yes, she takes another one. She’s breathing again. Somehow she’s breathing again. I feel as if her blood has cemented my hand to her shoulder. If she keeps breathing and if Dr. Cruebel would just treat her she might make it. “Dr. Cruebel, what are you doing?” I call over the collapsed form of Lucy, still covered in blood, “Help me!” He just stares at me. How can he stare at me? Does he want Sarah to die? I look down at her as she opens her eyes. Her skin is...normal again. How is she returning to normal? The blood...the pool of blood on the floor? Where is it? Where did it go? Sarah looks around as if to orient herself. Dr. Cruebel finally kneels next to us. His hand grips my own and peels it off. What I see chills me. Sarah’s shoulder is completely healed. “How did you do that?” Dr. Cruebel asks me, "You shouldn't...your shouldn't be able to." I mentally force myself to look at his face. He’s scared. I can see it. He’s scared of me. No. It’s not true. This is a nightmare. It’s not real. I am at the door before he can even respond. The hydraulics pull against me slightly as I open the doors and slip through them. I’m lost in the hospital. This has to be a nightmare. This can’t be real. Which way did I come from? There were stairs somewhere. Where is everyone? Why is nobody else coming? How did I ever get here without access? At the end of the corridor I stop, after exiting through unlocked doors, to take in my surroundings. My feet walk backwards until I hit the wall. I slide down it, crumbling chips of paint from the peeling walls. The dust from it gets into my eyes as chips sprinkle over my shoulders and hair. I pull my knees up to my chest and hug them tightly, closing my eyes. It’s not real. It’s a dream. My hands go to my face. I feel the curves of my cheeks, the bridge of my nose, my mouth, my lips, my forehead, and my closed eyes. This is who I am. I am human. I am Ashlyn Field. My fingers run through my hair, pulling knots out. I have hair. I don’t have a mane and I don’t have a tail. I am Ashlyn Field. This is just a dream. I run my right hand down from my left shoulder to my fingertips. I don’t have hooves. I am human. I am Ashlyn Field. I have a life outside of here. I would leave the stairs but I’m shaking. Tap. Pause. Tap. Pause. Tap. I open my eyes to a dark staircase. A gasp of light appears on the stairs rising above me from below. Someone with a flashlight is climbing the stairs. I don’t want them to find me. Tap. Pause. Tap. Pause. Tap. I crawl forward and focus my breathing. I went down just one staircase, right? My room is on the next floor? I need to climb the stairs before I’m caught. My feet are already bare so they’re quiet. I crouch then slowly crawl each step, thankful that they’re concrete and not wood. I don’t know why I feel like I have to run but I do. “Is someone up there?” a male voice calls. I press myself against the cold cement and wait. He’s not walking anymore. Maybe he’s just guessing that someone might be here. Who is he anyway? “Find something, Dave?” another male voice says, close to where I just was. “Mike?” “Yeah, it’s me.” “I thought I heard something.” “A ghost, maybe?” Mike teases. “It's not funny. I swear I saw one the other day. She looked like a patient.” “There are no such things as ghosts.” “But what if she was that girl who died? Her and the others?” “She isn’t real. You’re just seeing things. Let’s go.” Mike says and I hear the footsteps climb farther and farther down the staircase. I take the last few steps to the corridor where I think my room is. I push on the door. The door creaks and swings a little then falls off its hinges. “Dr. Cruebel?” I call into the pitch black after my heart starts beating again. I don’t hear either of the guards. They must have walked so far away they didn’t hear the door fall. Why is it so black in here? I take a step and feel something cover my foot. I glance down to see my almost white foot on a black background. I bend down and smell smoke. My fingers feel soot as I run them along the ground. What happened here? “Dr. Cruebel!” No Answer. I scream his name. Why isn't he coming? Everything is black now. Something is touching my face. Something else wraps around me. I strike out. I can’t see anything. My face is in a pillow. Bed sheets cover me. That’s what I’m feeling: I’m in bed. I’m moving from dream to consciousness. My eyes open in a grey room. My room. Dawn hasn’t come yet. It was all a dream. I sit up and uncover myself. Was there really a letter last night? Darting to the drawers, I collapse from shaking. I use my fingers to bring myself up then pull each drawer out to rummage through my clothes, ripping dark sweaters and pants out and throwing them behind me. A white letter would shine out against the dark fabrics even in this light. No letter. Last night was a dream. I rest my head against the open drawer in front of me. I am human. I am Ashlyn Field.