//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: Alone // by Syringed //------------------------------// Now, a few odd things happened. She looked up from her phone, and saw a pastel horse standing not three feet away from her. She just stared at me, her brain not comprehending the sight. I didn’t do much else, other than just stare right back. Her left eye twitched ever so slightly, kinda like someone from an insane asylum. Her phone slipped out of her hands. It hit the floor with a dull thunk, and she didn’t make a move to pick it up. Odd. She could never put down that thing, even when I threatened to go on her facebook and spam all her friends with random links to ads about Netflix and Nationwide. She just stood there, unmoving. I’m pretty sure her brain just went “Fuck this” and jumped ship. And in her dumbfounded state, I did another really bad move. I opened my mouth. “Don’t freak out. Please don’t.” I begged. The broad didn’t listen. She flipped her shit. She just grabbed every damn thing in her reach and just chucked it at me. And that girl has quite the stroke. I ducked, narrowly avoiding a textbook taking my head off, and forced all my muscles in my arms…legs…limbs and shoved myself under my bed. Not the best place to hide, but it did the job. My batshit crazy sister couldn’t try and bludgeon me over the head with my clarinet this way. I heard more crashing and smashing and see…everything ending up on the floor. My laptop, all my school papers, and other stuff that I never really remembered I had. I then heard my sister scream “MOM” and hear her footsteps as she ran out of the room. Ohthankyouwhoeverisupstairswatchingthis. I somehow squeezed myself out from under my bed. I stood back up and scream “YES!” Victory quickly turned to ash in my mouth as I looked around the room. It was trashed. It looked like a hurricane went through this place. What the hell did my sister do? That was the least of my problems. How the fricking hell do I walk? Making me learn how to walk all over again. Oh life, you are such a funny thing. Fuck you. Like an idiot, I thought relearning how to walk would be easy. I’ve seen how animals walk on Discovery channel. It should be easy. Left, left, right, right? It sounded good in my mind, as I moved what I thought was my left front limb. “Left” I said as I moved my limbs. “Right, lef-oof!“ Did anyone actually vacuum the floor in my room? ‘Cuz it reeked. I pushed myself back up and tried again. Attempt number two. Left, right, left, right. I moved my left foreleg and oh my god, I didn’t trip. I then moved my back right leg, and I didn’t trip! My moral went through the roof as I move my left foreleg. I tripped. What was that about my moral? Never mind, I had none. I tried again, thought I felt like I was close to giving up. Attempt number three. Fuck everyone’s shit and fly. … Desperate situations called for desperate measures. A few other attempts were along the line of ‘crawl on your back like you have an itch on your back’ or ‘walking like you’re swimming freestyle’. All my attempts at learning how to walk, or just propel myself in a direction of choice in an efficient manner made quite the racket. I heard footsteps outside my door while I was on my fifth attempt at walking, and my mom walked in to see a pastel horse propelling herself with her forelegs while dragging her ass on the floor. Still need someone to tell me what I had the night before. My attempt at walking was cut short by a bloodcurdling scream. Next thing I knew, I was forcefully introduced to Mr. Frying Pan. Such a caring and responsible mother. Every mom should follow her example. Throw a frying pan at your own child is the best way to raise him. God that hurt! I felt something warm and wet flow down my face. I reached up to my muzzle and rubbed my hoof over my nose. I pulled it back and saw blood. Bright red blood. I felt tears well up in my eyes as I tried to fight through the pain. I tried to get up again, and through squinted eyes, I saw my laptop flying towards me. My laptop. Oh all the things you could throw, you had to throw my laptop?! It hit me like a brick, hitting the side of my face. I’m pretty sure I saw the whole cliché stars swirling around my head. It was starting to get dangerous, as my mom just grabbed every heavy object in the vicinity and started chucking it at me, all while screaming incoherent gibberish. I think I picked up “get away” and “raccoon”, but I got the memo. Get. The. Flip. Outta. Dodge. I somehow got to my feet…or hooves and narrowly ducked another textbook whizzing over my head. When my mother went to pick up another object to chuck, I scrambled for it. I went left, leaping over the mess in my room like a reindeer. Seeing my jet black clarinet case ahead, I jumped and used it as a launching pad to propel myself up through the window. Glass shattered around me as I busted through the window. Thank God it worked like it did in the movies. A searing pain shot through my left foreleg as I fell from the top floor of my house. I looked down, and whoop-de-doo, there’s blood. I’m pretty sure I severed an artery, but nothing severe. I felt faint as I plummeted like a rock. I looked up…or down and saw the green grass of my front yard coming up fast to meet me. Oh shit. Who left all the gardening tools outside?