When the doctors admitted me on the spot, they brought me up to the fifth floor, the onka… onco… uh, the cancer floor. After a week, they hadn’t actually done any treatments yet, but they did put this little tube in my foreleg. It’s supposed to let them take blood out and put other stuff into my body without sticking me with needles over and over again. They called it a PICK line, or something like that. It really didn’t feel good when they put it in— I could feel them wiggling it inside my body from my leg to my chest. It felt so weird.
After being in the hospital for a week, I realized, unsurprisingly, that it sucks. It’s not like I haven’t done it before, but it’s been a while. I always forget how annoying those stupid heart monitor stickers are, but at least they’ve got them plugged into a wireless box I can hang around my shoulder instead of the wall. Aside from that, I did think of three other upsides. The first one is that PICK line they keep using— at least I’m not covered in needle holes. That would have bothered the hay outta me. Two, they put me in my own room in the Fluttershy Memorial Wing, so I don’t have to share it with any screaming little foals. Three, even though Miss Turner keeps sending homework to me, I don’t have to go to school. It’s not really enough to make up for being stuck in the hospital for a year, but I guess it’s something.
The other nice thing was that Mom brought me a bunch of stuff from home. Having my own room means I can have as much of my stuff here as I want, but the only things I tend to use are my video games—the TV is kinda crummy for Big Macrosoft games, but at least it works—my Harry Trotter books, and my telescope. I got lucky with that one— my room has a nice, big window, and I can point my telescope pretty high. The window is usually pretty clean, too, so it doesn’t cause any problems with… uh, I think the word’s distortion? But whatever— I figure as long as I can use those and can have friends visit, maybe it won’t be too horrible…
Luckily for me, I AM allowed to have friends come. Actually, Starry Knight and Tesla Coil just got here a little while ago. Unfortunately, they brought more homework with them. They were barely in the door when I saw a folder with that familiar stationary— From the desk of Miss Page Turner. Can’t she ever give me a break?
“Hey, at least you aren’t being tested on stuff!” Starry clearly saw the look in my eyes when he tossed the folder of work onto my bed. He has a good point, though. I’m not being graded on anything like my classmates are, but I probably will be when I get out of here, so I may as well just do the stupid work. “But Miss Turner told us to tell you that there’s stuff in there to read that she’s only giving to you. It’s pretty thick, too.”
Oh, well whoop-dee-doo. So I’m not being graded, but I’m getting EXTRA work instead. Isn’t that just fantastic.
“Oooh, she’s such a meanie! Why doesn’t she let you off the work completely? You have other stuff to worry about!”
Believe me, Tesla, I couldn’t agree with you more. May as well see what she gave me, though.
Opening the folder, I looked at the two of them and asked, “You guys don't know what this stuff is, do you? Maybe you can help me if she left questions with— wait… this looks like a cover fo— The History of the Cutie Mark Crusaders?!”
“WHAT?”
“WHAT?”
You don’t understand— this is BIG. This book just came out, and only a few ponies in Manehattan got their hooves on it. It was written by Scootaloo, who was one of the first Crusaders, and the manuscript was found buried in her house somewhere after she… well, yeah. It happened last year— she was 85. I guess it was just… well, time.
This whole thing is on printed paper, even the cover! It’s not even the actual book! How did— wait, Miss Turner wrote me a note…
Crimson—
Surprise!
I’m giving you a treat today— no work, but a bit of reading material. I know that you, Tesla, and Starry are members of the Ponyville sector of the Cutie Mark Crusaders (as I was when I was your age), so I thought you might like to learn a bit about its origins. Since I’m sure Starry and Tesla are with you, you are welcome to share it with them, but nopony else (other than your parents, of course)! This is our little secret.
My cousin works for the company that published this book, Manehattan Publishers Incorporated. I talked to him a few days ago, and I mentioned you. He was able to get his hooves on a copy of the manuscript and print out a full copy of the book for you. I received it in the mail yesterday.
This was not an easy task for him, so please write my cousin a thank-you letter. That is your homework. I put some blank paper in the back of this folder, along with a stamped envelope with my cousin’s address on it.
Everypony here wishes you a speedy recovery. We all miss you.
Feel better soon,
Miss TurnerPS: You have great support in Starry and Tesla. The two of them even dyed their manes and tails red for you (I’m hearing some of your other classmates considering it right now as I am writing this to you— it might become a new trend!). Be sure to hang on to friends like them— they only want the best for you, and those are great friends to have.
I was wondering what the red was all about. I dropped the folder in my lap before I pointed at Tesla's head and asked, “Wait, so that’s for me?"
“Oh, the mane and tail? Um, yeah. We did it yesterday,” Tesla said.
Starry chimed in, “You mean you did it yesterday! Crimson, she dyed her own mane and then dunked my head into the dye bucket!”
WHAT? My hoof shot up to cover my muzzle.
“You agreed to it! You said you thought it was a good idea!”
“It is a good idea, but you didn’t have to dunk my whole head in the bucket!”
I was ready to bust a gut. “Guys, guys, please!" I couldn't resist letting out a snicker. "Ya gotta admit, Starry, that’s kinda funny! Mister artist became the art!"
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But you know I don’t like getting any of my materials ON me. The dye was no different— she got it all over my face…” Starry’s a bit of a neat freak, even though his hobby can get kinda messy.
I remarked, “Well, you did a good job cleaning it off, at least.”
“Pfft, I wish. My dad came home last night from Canterlot guard duty, so my mom cleaned me up before he got back. She scrubbed so hard I felt like she was gonna pull my skin off! You know how my dad is: ‘A royal guard must be as clean as the palace he protects!’ Geez, when is he gonna get it in his head that I’m not planning to follow in his hoofsteps?”
I didn’t want Starry getting into this again. “AN-Y-WAYYYY… Oh, yeah. Thanks, Tess— that was really… sweet of you to think of.”
“*GASP* Really?! Um, I mean, yeah. I know. I thought it would be nice…”
Starry raised an eyebrow and looked at me with a smirk. He glanced at Tesla, then back to me. I knew what he was thinking, and I silently responded, I know, I know by mirroring the look.
I’ve known Starry and Tesla since before I got my new heart. We’ve been best friends for ages— that’s why we all became Crusaders together. But last year, I noticed that Tesla had started acting a little different toward me. Starry noticed it, too. We both finally figured it out this past summer— that filly is crushing on me HARD. Maybe it’s because I like science-y stuff, too; I like stars, and she has a thing for electricity. Her mane’s always standing up from the static, but it actually looks good on her. Whatever the reason is, I’m not quite sure how I feel about it yet…
“…Yeah, it was. Thanks, guys.”
“No prob.”
“You’re welcome!”
I sat in silence for only a moment before I asked them, “…Soooooooo, you guys wanna get a look at the book?”
“YEAH!”
“YEAH!”