Perhaps Death

by WritingSpirit

Of The Horrors Of Canterlot High

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
It had been those little three words over and over and over again; the three words that the mare said yesterday before her departure. The three words that kept me awake in the darkest of nights, thinking... about my past. She was somepony special... somepony I trusted... yet it feels as though we've never met before. The gift was a thousand alicorns damned of a proof that I knew her personally, but somehow my mind couldn't make that connection.

Did any of you realize what's the package she sent me? The one which I said it was like somepony sawed off the turret of a toy tank and just glued it to a gray sleeping pill? Yes, that one. It was a rather personal object of mine; a memento, if you would, of days long ago. Ah, the wonders and follies of foalhood...

...

Figured it out yet? This object of mine?

If not, I'll just tell it to you then.

Every single colt would have a collection of assorted items, be it coins and stamps and the boring latter. Instead of my furnished display of bow ties (which I proudly present on a monthly basis) I once had a set of miniatures. They were usually attained through harmless bits, but there was one particular one which I... accidentally, let's put it, made.

It was in the mid of July, just a tad five hours past the celebration of my eleventh birthday. I was busy having a little walk around one the parks in Canterlot, and yes, Canterlot has parks. Expect it from a classy society to have parks. Anyways, it was a walk that I had to take just to run over things in my life. Eleven years is an incredibly long time, won't you say? Mrs. Hearthfire always said a good stroll around would just jimmy your thoughts up a bit. By golly, she was always right.

Then it came. A Dalek.

You should know what a Dalek is, right? They were my de facto mortal enemies in the entirety of my life! In fact, I'm not even sure if I should call them mortal! Cold, sentient beings, they are; a shell only covering the most heartless, callous souls that even the darkest ponies of Equestria wouldn't possess! Well, at least apart from the wires and mechanics and accelerators within the thing, but yes! Darkest souls indeed!

Surprisingly, this one wasn't stupid, and by stupid, it didn't give any time for me to think while it spews out its robotic, degenerate taunts at me. If you were there that night, you would've seen little, eleven year old me doing cartwheels and avoiding hazardous, life-threatening death rays spraying everywhere. It wasn't only after I zapped it with my sonic from behind a park bench that it finally dropped dead. It really took me by surprise, but once again, as always with these battles, the Doctor emerges victorious!

However the triumph, it was a little discomforting of a thought back then: if the Daleks knew of my age regression, that would mean the rest of my enemies would've known as well! Fortunately for me, there weren't any other... premature assaults for a long time after that incident; if an eleven year old can kill you, wouldn't you back down as well?

I would've ran off home right after that, but let's be sensible, I couldn't just leave a dysfunctional robot lying in the middle of the open, could I? On the contrary, it was too heavy of a load for anypony of my stature to lift, so I shrank it with my sonic! Sure enough, it became one of the many 'tokens' I possessed and eventually, I stored it somewhere safe unless something happens to me, which I would then give it to somepony else!

Now you know what was the present given to me by the dentist: a shrank Dalek!

The bigger question is how did the dentist get it? The only way she could've gotten it from was through a conversation with me, but that might mean she was somepony I knew, not to mention trusted a lot, yet I've never seen her before! But let's be honest, for a pony with this disease, it's not much of a surprise that I would've eventually forgotten at least somepony's face.

She would know why I'm here; why I'm stuck in this... this damned place.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Enough of this. It's best I figured out who she is first.

The next date circled was when I was a mere fourteen years old. It was when I finally had the chance to take a step into high school! Oh, of all the joyous of joys! Unfortunately, all I could remember was how inexplicably... horrendous my experience was. I'm not surprised actually; with my amusing fashion of bow ties and fondness of tinkering of gadgets like my sonic and the TARDIS, you probably might wonder how would I fit into a society of gossip and clubs. In fact, I hardly remembered if I had any friends back in Canterlot High! Very peculiar indeed, the prospects of a teenager's life!

But still -- I uttered the date out -- it was still worth the risk!

And the migraine comes... and......
.
.
.

.
.
.

"You be a good boy now. Do you hear me, Mister?"

"Yes, Missus Hearthfire."

"And don't join any of those rascals I've seen on the street! Those squalid little foals with their cigarettes and their loitering... a shame for Canterlot to have them! You hear me, Turner?"

I sighed. "Yes, Missus Hearthfire."

It would've been much more of an emotional moment if I wasn't that much of a snob back then, but hey, what could I say, I was a teenager. Well, at least a very young one at best. Even though I wasn't one prone to smoking, drinking and the whatnot experiences that overly-curious ponies would try at this point of age, I was still a rebellious one. Suffice to say, it was one of the traits that I've possessed as the Doctor. With a chuckle, Mrs. Hearthfire patted my head, giving me a wave goodbye; one which I tried my best to return. It was, after all, my first day of high school; I never had luck in middle school on the 'making friends' portion of it, for the record. You could say I was a sucker at friendship.

But no matter! Today is the day that would change! That's what I told myself when I stepped through those wide-open doors into the hallways. The exterior was like every other Canterlotian building there is to see: gilded, articulate and just plain marble, with a slate roof and golden-framed windows to boot. My eyes glowed ever the more brilliantly when I stepped into the corridors of lockers, billboards and chattering ponies, mustering the best of my confidence that I would find a true, worthy friend in these classrooms.

Yes, that's what I told myself! Today's the day!

Oh, how horribly wrong I was.

You know the advice of giving first impressions? Let's just say I wasn't very capable of them, which is a bad thing during your times in high school, because ponies would only judge you on them. And it just so happens that the first class that I attended must be, just must be...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
*sigh*
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Physics.

"Turner, can you provide the definition for centripetal force?"

"Centripetal force," I answered, almost too proudly for a first day. "It's the force that makes an object move in uniform speed along a circular path and is directed towards the radius in the center."

"Thank you, Turner. Now--"

"The formula given to calculate the magnitude of said force is force equals mass times velocity squared over the radius. Gravitational energy is what supplies the force and acts on each object towards the other's center of mass, in which case the distributed mass in space is unique due to the fact where a weighted relative position of such sums toward an amount of zero, or in other words, where the resultant forces of gravity vanish, calculated by..."

I'll stop there. Wouldn't want to bore you now, would we?

There were three things I've learned that day. One: never interrupt a teacher even though you've already knew more than what the whole of ponykind has known in a subject, two: when it comes to knowledge that many would've been amazed by, no teenager would bother to lend an ear, not to mention their sympathy, for you, and three: never, ever, ever be a showoff. Especially on the first day of class, specifically in terms of your brain.

The latter two was what affected me most; after all of that, you know you wouldn't walk down the school hallways without anypony calling you a... what was that word... nerd? Geek, even? Whatever the word is, I've basically became the nut lying at the foot of the social ladder and believe me, it. Was. Horrid.

It was fine once I strut out in class on that first day, but what I've forgotten was the impact it would bring me. Already ponies were simply just bumping it to me for the sick fun of it the day after, making me drop my books and sometimes even my sonic, but nevertheless, they were harmless enough. Really, I've seen worse being done, like food platters smashed onto somepony's face and even heads going into toilets. Even less surprising was that the unfortunate victims were usually Earth Ponies like me; unicorns and pegasi were rarely being picked on, mostly due to their erhh... extra features, I would call it.

Horrible experiences. Plain horrible experiences.

Oh, I've been called names as well; names besides the Doctor, just to clarify. Trust me when I say it would take a lifetime to name, much less remember what they said. Every single little insult and mockery they threw at me, I would always forget them. Ignorance is bliss, after all.

There wasn't anything extremely physical, however; the school was right in front of Princess Celestia's palace, so you could say that any violence would be deemed suicide. That said, there were also guards using the school as a shortcut between the palace and probably their favorite cafes. Yes, it didn't do much to the name-calling, but still it was better than going back to Mrs. Hearthfire looking like a used boxing dummy. The 'accidental' bumps was a constant experience too.

But there was one particular bump I remembered.

One that changed my life.
.
.
.

.
.
.

Another walk through the hallways. How exciting.

Don't blame me, really! I've just escaped a chain reaction of Equestrian General History and Social Studies class! Two consecutive apex subjects of boredom isn't any more healthier to the mind than a sixteen foot cheese and lettuce burger to the body. With a side order of a double chocolate milkshake. Oh, for Celestia's sake, I couldn't describe how boring I was even if I wanted to! It's practically impossible!

Why I've described it like that, you may ask. For starters, it's finally lunchtime and... well, basically that sums it all up. Lunchtime, yes... queer and exciting yet a necessary procedure of life...

Oh, don't mind the babbling! On we go!

If your weak eyes hadn't noticed the changed date above, it's been a year since my entrance into high school. Progress? Oh, fine! Fine really! Much ado about nothing, really. Good news is that the teasing has stopped. Bad news? What, must you expect bad news when there's good news? Pessimists.

For the more optimistic of you lot, being in tenth grade isn't exactly what I've looked forward to, mostly because I knew the answers to almost all of the subjects. It's like watching Phantom of the Opera for about five hundred times on repeat; interesting at first but the boredom will slowly set in like melting marshmallows on a sugar-covered biscuit.

Oh, there we go with the food similes again! Even though it was a magic recollection spell (somepony enchanted my book, yes. Not suspecting it was the dentist yet.) I somehow could feel what my past self has felt at that moment, and from what I could attain, I was absolutely starving! Who would've known that the Doctor would finally give in to the temptation of hunger?

Unfortunately for me, the cafe I'm looking forward to was quite a distance away. You have to head through the courtyard of the palace to reach it, if you aren't that keen on using that long path that swerves out of the compound and back in again. What's worse is that I haven't found a friend, at least a true one yet! Would've spiced up the journey a bit, but nevertheless I'm fine with it. Yes, friendship was harsh with me, even in my teenage years.

If friendship were an actual ship, mine would be a wooden raft. Yes. Wooden raft with two branches for oars and banana leaves for the sail. You would've already cried 'shiver me timbers!!' when a light breeze blows it about if you tried sailing the seven seas with it. Oh, forget that! I'm practically starving here! Just watching my fourteen year old self slowly trotting towards the cafe isn't going to be helpful at all! Hurry on, lad, I wanted to shout. Would've slapped him hard if I could!

Somehow, I think he got the message, 'cause he started galloping after turning a corner. All I could do was watch and follow him, both our stomachs no doubt aching and gurgling mercilessly. Oh, for Celestia's sake, even the terrace of the palace were like a labyrinth at this desperate point of time!

It was like that arcade game... uh, name, name... Pac-Mare, really, though the food we needed would only appear at the ending, and the enemy would be our empty stomach. I can't imagine it: my pixelated self trying it's best to navigate this stupid place. Maybe all he had to do was turn left again and--

.
.
.
.
.
Ow!!

Celestia! My poor head! Really, I could feel a bruise bulging already!

Seriously, Turner...
.
.
.
.
.
"Ohmigosh, I'm so sorry!" the other pony cried, lifting me up. It was a mare, judging from her voice. "I didn't realize that you were there, because I was so busy reading this notes that my mentor gave me and-- sweet Celestia, your head!!"

"I-It's okay," I managed to stutter, helping her get her books. They had very, very, and I do mean very queer titles! Who would read giant dictionary-like books named 'The Scholar's Collection of Early Magic' or 'Beyond the Boundaries of Ponykind: A Thesis Based on the Assorted Works on Alicorn Nature'? For a second there, I thought I hit a brick instead of these thick buddies!

"Uh... is all of these books yo--"

I stopped.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
No, really! I stopped!

Staring back at me was a familiar face. A face that I thought was long lost; a face that I thought was out of my life many years ago. It was the same one that somewhat made my heart light up aflutter, yet shrouded me once it departed. It was the face of all the faces in Canterlot that told me: my search was over.

It was the face I've seen a long time ago. Thirty-four feet across my window.

The mare of my dreams.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Are you okay?"

I immediately snapped out from my daydream, staring once again at the face... I mean, concerned expression! Yes! Her... concerned expression. That's it. Ahem-hem-hem!

"I-I.... I-I-I..." I blabbered like a fool. Yes, it's funny, now stop snickering. "I-I'm... fine..."

"You don't seem okay..." she muttered, looking at me skeptically. "You sure you didn't bump into my books too hard? You were a little... you know, loss at words?"

"No! I'm fine! Perfectly fine, Miss... uh...

"Oh! My name! Of course..."

With a cough, she began to introduce herself: a formality that I wouldn't miss it for the world!

"My name is--"
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.