//------------------------------// // Silence and Noise // Story: Believing Stories // by TypewriterError //------------------------------// Celestia refused to do anything that they willed for her over the next few days. Notes appeared and she barely had a chance to read them before either Discord or his woman accomplice would come and take them from her. Sarah never took them from her after that one incident. Twilight wrote. She wrote almost every day with terrified words, wishing to recall her teacher. How could she bring her back? Could Celestia even get back? What was hard was when there was nothing outside of silence. The more she heard it, the more she fought against it: that pounding deafening ringing silence that throbbed in her eardrums and deafened her. But, she would not scream. She would not talk to herself. Instead she would walk. In a few weeks, she supposed, the floor would have a dull ring where her feet made their paces on an invisible track. Each touch of her bare feet to the cold concrete soothed the constant raging in her mind. If she couldn’t find something to enjoy this would be a prison. Yes, it was a prison but it did not have to be. Only if they stole her mind would it become a prison. But then, how would she know she was still in prison? Celestia squeezed her eyes shut and continued the trek around the room again. She imagined her feet walking over the floors of Canterlot Castle. She could leave at any moment. She could turn aside to look at stained glass windows. The Equestrian air would waft around her, sparkling with magic. Different colors lit her eyelids. Indigos and pinks flowed with blues and greens. She breathed and tasted the stargazers blooming beyond the open corridor doors somewhere. Her feet touched warm carpet. Celestia opened her eyes. Immediately her gaze traveled upward towards the distant vaulted ceiling. Prisms cascaded down the marble walls in patient crawls. Her heart squeezed in her chest and she gasped in a sob. How could she be here? How long could she stay? This was real, wasn’t it? “Good afternoon, Celeste.” As soon as she turned her head sharply towards Discord, the room swept away like the stroke of a grey brush covering a sunset. She had imagined it. Or had she brought herself back for a moment? Discord entered, followed by the bored woman. “What is it?” she snapped more loudly than she intended. “It’s time for your treatment.” Though the results wouldn’t change, Celestia still fought. But, she could not hold off two people and soon she found the floor pressing against her back as a needle slid into her arm, injecting a tingling chemical into her blood. Soon, she couldn’t push against the woman anymore and her limbs relaxed against her will. Her captors then proceeded to inject two more shots into her arms. “If you agreed to take medication we would not need to subdue you in order to administer them. You realize that, of course?” Discord said. Celestia’s eyes burned at him as they slid closed. She heard the sound of the door and then the ringing silence returned. THUMP-thump Th-thump THUMP-thump Th-thump THUMP-thump Th-thump Celestia forced her eyes open. The ear ached in protest to being pressed against the metal table under the weight of her head. Why was she almost always waking up at the table when she fell asleep in her bed? When she looked straight ahead the sound was gone and she stared at a baseball placed in front of her eyes. What was that doing here? Why was she given a baseball? Her head spun as she lifted her tingling arm to take it. Her hand went limp and slid off, rolling the ball towards the floor. THUMP! Thump! Thump-thump-thump-thump... So a baseball was making the noise. Would they take it away from her? Or had they given it to her to keep? The tingling in her hands immobilized her with pain as millions or needles burned in her skin. She moved her limbs and the tingling surged. Finally, her shoulders were free to move again and she could feel her legs. After agonizing moments of her body reawakening, she was finally capable of standing. The baseball felt soft, as if it had been used. Was this making the noise?  She turned towards her bed but hesitated. They probably wanted her to go to sleep. This baseball was probably a reminder from Discord that he held her prisoner. She hurled the baseball at the window. BANG! Thump- She caught it in her hand. The window remained unbroken but they might take the baseball away if she kept throwing it at the window. She took a sidestep to her left and threw the baseball at the wall. THUMP- It hit the wall Thump It hit the floor and bounced Th-thump The ball smacked into the palm of her hand without hurting. She threw it again and the ball made the same rhythm. Had she gotten a letter? A quick check of her pocket told her no. She tossed the ball at the wall again and it bounced back, but not high enough to reach her fingers. She seated herself and threw the ball a fourth time. After about ten throws, Celestia decided this was better than sitting with nothing to do, and the sound didn’t seem so striking once it got into a regular beat. Celestia’s eyes flew open as a hand gently shook her by the shoulder. The ball was in her hand and she had fallen asleep while leaning against the wall. She looked up at Discord blearily. “What happened?” “I think you passed out. It’s time for you to eat again. Please, close the door, Sarah.” Celestia heard the door click shut and slowly climbed to her feet using the wall. How was she so exhausted? All she had done was throw a baseball for... how long? The sun came in her window at an angle that left a rectangle of orange light on the ceiling. The electric lights above her were warming up from blue to white. She tossed the baseball onto the bed weakly and looked at the tray, feeling her stomach growl. Rubbing her eyes cleared a lot of gunk away that had accumulated. That meal was the first uneventful one Celestia could remember having at the hospital. Except for a few questions concerning how she was feeling, not much else happened. A fog seemed to float around Celestia’s mind, keeping her passive and sleepy. All she cared about was eating as much of her food as possible. She had never realized before how hungry she was. Maybe forcing herself to throw up her meals was starting to catch up to her. She was worried about drugs in her food. But, maybe just for tonight she could skip it. “Now, isn’t this a little more pleasant than constantly fighting?” Discord asked her. “I’m not fighting because I’m tired. Just wait until I get some sleep.” He laughed in response. “I look forward to it. But, perhaps, consider giving us a chance at peace?” Whatever had created the fog in Celestia’s mind had no effect on the level glare she gave him right then. “You know peace is impossible, Discord.” He looked away, obviously irritated. “My name is Dr. Cruebel. You will address me as Dr. Cruebel and you will stop calling me Discord.” “Or what?” “Quite simple.” He stood and picked the baseball off the bed. “Wait!” “Now, Miss Celeste Marlowe, what is my name?” The silence stood firm between them as Celeste kept her eyes fixed on the baseball. Sarah shifted in the corner of her stare. Time had passed so easily with the baseball there. Celestia had been stuck in boredom for almost a week. Would Luna understand? Would Twilight? Celestia studied the stitches of the ball, visible between the fingers of his hand as he held it towards her. It was obvious that he would take it away if she called him Discord again. Would it really be such a bad thing to call him Dr. Cruebel if she didn’t mean it? Was this giving up? “Do you have an answer?” he asked. She looked up towards his face. “What is my name?” “Discord,” Celestia said, weakly. His whole expression dropped the hope it had as he dropped the baseball into the pocket of his lab coat. “Get some sleep, Celeste. Tomorrow is the day we talk.” Sarah packed up the tray and utensils with rapt attention towards her task. Celestia watched her move, dazed. Sarah lifted the tray and followed Discord through the door before it shut in its normal, intimidating manner. There was only silence to keep her company after the echo died.