//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 - Yearning For What Has Been Lost // Story: No More Nightmares // by red_angel //------------------------------// Chapter 5 - Yearning For What Has Been Lost By: Red Angel I am running. My heart is pounding. The sound of my footsteps against the marble floor echo through the darkness of the great hallway, cool air caressing my naked skin, the ceiling is so far away I cannot even see it. Large pillars bearing down on me like shadowy sentinels as I rush past them. Tapestries and stained glass windows depicting scenes of blood and depravities adorn the walls, the glass illuminated by some unidentifiable source of light that somehow fails to part the shadows around me. Behind me, a cacophony of sounds hound me. A combination of thunderous stomps and shrieking scrapes in the distance. And the screams... The screams... Ringing out, distorted and twisted, demanding justice, a sacrifice of blood to sate their fury and satisfy the need for retribution. A symphony of rage and pain. I run, but there is no escape, no place where I will find sanctuary. Some debts must be paid, blood for blood. I know this, yet I keep running. I see the end of the hallway, a set of giant doors, dark and foreboding. The sound of my invisible pursuers grows larger in volume as I close in on them. The doors beckon for me and I answer. I throw them open, pushing the gargantuan doors apart like they were made out of air as I stride past them. I freeze in place by the sight that greets me. A great throne room... And light, all-encompassing white light, emanating from the throne atop a large flight of stairs, as if the sun itself was sitting there. It is blinding, yet somehow I cannot tear my eyes from it, nor do I need to shield them. The screaming fades away, as if banished by the light. A figure stands in the center of it, regal and proud, her wings flared and her head held high, a long horn visible on her forehead as her body forms a silhouette against the light behind her, her features hidden by shadows created from the backlight. I fall to my hands and knees at the bottom of the steps, surrendering myself to this godlike being. Tears are streaming down my face. I cry and beg for forgiveness. I can not hear my own voice, I do not know if she hears my words. Though I cannot see her eyes, hidden as they are in the silhouette masking her face, I can feel them on me, measuring me... Judging me. From the chill crawling down my spine I know that she has found me wanting. She descends down the stairs, slowly and methodically, her poise and movement befitting royalty as she practically glides over the steps like a setting sun, her ethereal mane and tail of pastel light billowing as if caressed by some phantom breeze. Dread builds up in me as she draws ever closer, like a pendulum slowly descending down upon me. Once more I cry my pleas for forgiveness and once more neither sound can be heard nor any sign to be seen of my words being recognized by my judge. I cannot run anymore... I cannot even move. My body is frozen by the sheer overbearing power of her presence. My soundless cries have turned into equally quiet whimpers before my struggles and begging finally dies down. She is standing in front of me now, her features still hidden from me by the light as I stare with teary eyes into her face, still feeling her gaze in my very soul. I try to whisper one last apology as my body slumps and I raise my hands, pleading one final time with this divine judge. I do not know if she hears me. Her horn illuminates with golden light. I can feel heat building inside of me. Looking down at my hands and body I see smoke seeping out from my pores as my skin begins to sizzle and boil. Black liquid oozes out from my body, evaporating as soon as it hits the floor. I stare at my judge, trying to scream for forgiveness once more, to beg her to stop, but my lungs are on fire, burning my throat as more smoke escapes my mouth. She merely stands there, unmoved and motionless, staring at me as flames ruptures through my skin, enveloping me. And as the flames consume me, I try to scream... But there is only... Silence. I can't see. Everything is like a dark haze, my heart beating like a jackhammer and my breathing going almost as fast as I thrash around in panic. Where am I? I am screaming incoherently, my mind failing to focus through the mist in my head, only pure instinct guides me and it wants to break loose. Something is leaning over me, pressing its weight against me, it's making sounds, nothing but noise in my ears, can hardly hear it. Get away from me! I lash out with my arm, grabbing blindly at blurry shadows in my vision. My fingers coil around something soft and smooth, fur brushing against my skin. I constrict my fingers around it, putting pressure along the surface. It starts thrashing around. I feel something press against my arm, trying to push it away, but my grip is like steel, digging my fingers into the surface harder and harder. The noise changes, growing weaker. A low growl vibrates in the back of my throat, panic driving me primal with a mix of fear and rage. Leave me alone! Why won't they just leave me alone!? "A- Anon..." One word pierces the haze of my mind. The voice is strained, almost garbled, before it breaks off into pained gasps and gagging. Something lights up in my head like a flare, the feeling is almost overwhelming as my senses return to me like a rushing flood by the voice. I... I know that voice... As if a veil had been lifted from my eyes my vision returns like a flash of light and I find myself staring into a pair of blue eyes, squinting and unfocused with tears forming in the corners. Bangs of purple and white striped hair have come loose from its neatly tied bun and are sticking against sweat soaked, light purple fur. The usually ever present cap is nowhere to be seen on her head. Nurse Sweetheart? Her face is contorted in pain and is a darker shade than usual. Her mouth hanging wide open, making short, desperate gasps. She is standing on her hind legs, her fore hooves wrapped around my arm. My hand is around her throat. My eyes widen as I release my grip, pulling my hand away so fast I almost fall out of the bed. She falls back, landing on her flank. She places one of her hooves against the floor to steady herself as she sits hunched over, using the other hoof to massage her throat, coughing and taking huge, trembling breaths of air, trying to refill her lungs with as much as she can. My own breath is stuck in my throat as I just stare at her, horrified. Where had she come from? Why did I...? I couldn't even see her, I couldn't focus, there was just this... This haze, anger and fear, then she was there. I didn't know what I was doing, I wasn't thinking. I just... I just... "S- Sweetheart?" My voice is quivering from the shock and adrenaline. I hardly even notice how drenched I am in sweat. "Sweetheart, I'm- I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to- I didn't know it was you! I swear, I didn't know what was happening! Please, I'm sorry! I- I-" My eyes are watering as my pleading grows more desperate, hopelessly trying to find some words to explain what I had done. All it takes to silence my rambling is her lifting her hoof from her throat and giving me a calming wave of her fore leg, her head still leaning down but her breathing more controlled, if somewhat raspy and peppered with a few quieter coughs. It is not her gesture that silences me though. On her neck, now unobstructed by her hoof, I can see deep, dark bruises; five of them... I look down at my hand, my fingers are trembling in quick, twitching movements that appear almost cramp-like, my entire arm is so tense it aches, but I ignore it. Dirty... It's dirty. I feel disgusted just looking at it, it makes my skin crawl. "I'm okay-" Her voice, hoarse and strained, manages to barely utter those words before she is cut off by another coughing fit. My eyes are drawn to her again as she clears her throat several times, punctuated by one final cough. Raising herself back up on all fours, she meets my eyes. She tries to give me a reassuring smile, but it looks strained on her pained face. "It's alright." Her voice is only slightly more steady, but still sore enough to make her words painfully contradictory. The bruises are even more visible to me now. Tearing my eyes away, I look back at my hand again. I grip it with my other one to try to stop the shaking. No success. I'm biting my lip, fighting back the rising urge to cry. I have no right to, I'm not the one who was hurt. I scan my eyes over the cuts around my wrists, the ones from the leather straps, now dried up into stale red lines. I can't help but wishing they had been deep enough to loose my hand. This dirty hand... "Hey..." I hear Sweetheart try to soothingly whisper, though it comes of as more like a wheeze. A pair of hooves reaches out and touches my arm. My heart practically stops the moment I feel them against my skin and my mind goes blank. I yank my arm away, hugging it to my chest, and I look at her with pleading eyes, like a whipped dog cowering. "Okay, okay." She tries to reassure me again, opting to rest her hooves lightly on the edge of the bed instead. "I'm sorry..." I meekly whisper. A concerned frown forms on her lips before she tries to give me a comforting smile. "You were having another nightmare. I tried to wake you and... Well..." She trails off, looking down at her hooves for a moment, her smile faltering, before meeting my eyes again. She keeps making tiny grunting noises, even as she talks, trying to clear her throat to ease the soreness. It eventually does improve, but only slightly, her voice sounding a little less strained as she goes on, her head tilted slightly to the side with an understanding look in her eyes. "I know it wasn't your fault, that you didn't mean to hurt me. You don't have to apologize to me. You did nothing wrong-" "Nothing wrong?" My face twist into a disbelieving scowl as I cut her off with an incredulous anger in my voice, making her flinch. "I almost choked you to death and there's 'nothing wrong'? Why do you ponies keep trying to pretend like nothing's happened? And why were you here!?" The volume of my voice raises a few notches. Sweetheart's ears droop down and she pulls back from me, removing her hooves from my bed and sitting down on her haunches again. She lowers her head slightly and looks up at me with sorrowful eyes, but doesn't say anything. I am too wound up to really notice. "How many times do I have to say that I don't want your help!? How long before you get it through your skull that you'll just end up even more hurt, or worse? Huh!? How long?" I feel my eyes growing closer to the verge of tears as my anger settles in my chest like a jagged root, choking and spurring me at the same time. My trembling body feels hot, almost feverish, and there is a pressure in the back of my head. "If you'd stopped acting like a stubborn idiot and listened - Just. Fucking. Listened! - and stayed the hell away from me this wouldn't have happened! I wouldn't have hurt you! I wouldn't have almost... Almost..." My outburst dies down, though I can still feel my pulse racing. I look down at my hand again, now resting in my lap. The memory of fur and soft flesh yielding under my grip feels almost distant in my mind, like it had just been another dream. But I knew that it had happened... And if I had not regained my senses in time... I shudder, I feel like I'm going to be sick... I tear my eyes away from my hand and turn towards Sweetheart again. She is just sitting there, head hung low, not making a move or a sound, her lips pursed tightly shut and her ears pressed against her head. She just keeps eyeing the floor with sad, forlorn eyes. The anger drains right out of me at the sight, being replaced with a horribly cold feeling in my gut. I feel like I had just slapped her with every word I had uttered. I scream curses at myself in my head. The nausea is getting so strong it practically hurts, like an ice-cold blade twisting in my stomach. "I-I..." I stutter, "I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't mean-" "It's okay..." She finally speaks up, her voice still raw and there is a slight tremble in her words. She doesn't lift her head, or even look up at me, keeping her eyes aimed down. "I understand..." She scans her eyes along the floor, before coming to a rest on something at the edge of my bed. Standing up on all fours, she reaches down and plucks the object up in her hoof. It is her nurse cap. She places it back on it's spot on her head, then just stands there quietly for a few seconds, still refusing to meet my eyes. "I'll... I'll just go... There are still a few things that need to be squared away... Paperwork and such... The doctor would want to see you one last time... I'll just go and get it done and over with..." She turns around and walks away from me, every step she takes sends a cold shiver through my mind... A feeling of dread, like I was about to loose something... But what? "Today's the big day after all... Wouldn't want to keep it waiting..." With those last, heavy words she disappears out the door, closing it softly behind her. I sit there for what feels like minutes, just staring at the door, waves of guilt crashing against my chest. What is wrong with me? First I almost kill her, then I yell at her? I really am just one screw-up after the other, aren't I? I let loose a long, tired sigh. The big day... That was what today was supposed to be... I have been here for two weeks now since I woke up after the attack. Four days since Derpy visited me. Four days of learning how to walk again. Struggling until I could finally move around without crippling pain. Though my body still feels tender and after a while the aches start coming back, I can actually walk some distances now before it becomes a problem. And now, the day had come where I would finally be out of here. The big day, like Sweetheart said... But I feel no joy, no sense of accomplishment over having endured this trial and the pain. Instead, I find my mind drifting to other things; specifically, two days ago... "What do you want from me?" I mutter, almost growl, annoyance clear in my voice. I am leaning against the wall for support as I stand in front of the window of my room, looking out, my back towards the mare I am talking to, her reflection visible in the glass surface. Outside, it is raining. It rains often during this time of the year. "I am healing. I can walk on my own. What more do you want?" A frown spread across the reflection of her face. "I just want to help you!" Nurse Sweetheart states, raising her voice; I can hear the exasperation in it, as well as see it on her face. We've been at this little argument for about twenty minutes now. I have been improving, shouldn't that be enough for her? "And you are healing physically, yes." She takes a deep breath, calming herself before continuing with a more concerned tone, her face softening. "I had hoped that after your surprise visit that you would open up more, so that we could hopefully try to deal with the real source of your pain." "What? That there's something wrong with my head? Think you can fix me, nurse?" Her face falters somewhat, though I'm not sure if it's the venom in my voice or the fact that I used 'nurse' instead of her name that is the cause, maybe it's a bit of both. "So eager to prick and prod my brain, analyzing me." "I'm not trying to analyze you, you..." She stops herself before giving the floor an irritated stomp with her hoof. Her cap sits a bit crooked on her head, shifted to the side. She has to take a few more breaths this time, eyes closed as her face visibly shifts into the very picture of patience as she collects herself a second time while she readjusts her cap to its proper position. She opens her eyes again, looking pleadingly at the back of my head, seemingly trying to will me to turn and look at her. I don't. "You can't face this alone, as much as you'd want to. You need somepony to help you, somepony who might be able to understand your plight." I know what she's trying to say, a part of me knows she's right. I raise my hand to the window, touching my fingertips against the cool glass, absentmindedly trailing them along its surface, making lines in the condensation building around the edges. "Someone like you? You could never understand... No one can..." My voice is lower, but my annoyance still just as clear as before. "No one can unless you let us understand. You are of no danger to anyone, but no one can see that if you keep pushing ponies away..." "Shut up..." "Please, as not just your nurse but as a friend, I'm worried about-" Finally I turn to face her, pivoting around so quickly I almost fall over as pain shoots out across my still healing spine. My teeth are bared and gritted, my face contorted into a look of pure rage as I drill my eyes into hers, shocking her into silence as she takes a step back and lifts her hoof of the floor, holding it in front of her chest. My fists are clenched so tight my knuckles have grown white. "You are not my friend!" I bellow at her furiously before the room falls terribly silent, my heavy breathing being the only discernible sound. She is staring wide-eyed at me, disbelievingly, her mouth slightly agape. There is something in her eyes that makes my heart stop and feel like it's crawled into my throat, the shock in her face seeming hauntingly familiar to me. The anger washes from my face, being replaced by an expression that almost matches hers, the impact of my own words dawning on me. I can't face her anymore and turn back to the window, not even being able to look at her reflection, opting instead to just close my eyes entirely, once again trying to shut the world out. It feels like we're standing there for an eternity in silence. Her face, her expression. I can see it in my mind, no matter how hard I shut my eyes I can't stop seeing it. The hurting, the sense of betrayal... It reminds me of... "Sweetheart?" I finally speak up, my voice weak, almost timid. No answer. Turning my head, I look back. She is gone. I hang my head, releasing a shuddering breath. I hadn't even heard her leave. My body suddenly feels cold and numb, the look in her eyes still burned in my mind, chilling me to my very core. That look... It reminded me of the ones my friends gave me... The moment I betrayed them... I am so sorry... I don't know what I am doing. This unease I've been feeling... It's just been growing... And this anger... You don't deserve that, Sweetheart. No one did. I am just... Afraid... Afraid of what I am, what I'm capable of. I can't help but feel like something terrible is going to happen and it will be my fault. Again... I can't handle that, I just can't... I'm sorry... I feel a wetness in my lap. Peering down, I look at the hand resting there. It is covered in blood, blotches of dark crimson soaking my covers. I throw my hand out, trying to hold it as far away from me as I can, my breath hitching in my throat as I stare in wide-eyed terror. There is no blood, neither fresh nor dried, on my skin, save for my healing cuts along the wrist. I look down, my covers are the same white they've always been, no red, just a few tiny, wet spots. I realize they are tears, having fallen from my face without me noticing as they dripped down my cheeks. I keep staring between my hand and the covers, bewildered, my heart pounding fiercely in my chest. An all to familiar feeling takes over me, rising in my stomach, pushing upwards. Frantically, I lean over the edge of my bed, scrambling under it with my hands. Feeling metal against my fingers, I grab hold of the object, a bucket, and pull it out from under my bed. I almost miss my intended target, just barely placing my head over the bucket as I start throwing up in it instead of on the floor. I sit there, leaning over awkwardly, vomiting up more contents than I think I actually had in my stomach. It is painful and I have no chance to breathe between each cascade that escapes my mouth, each one accompanied by disgusting sounds of retching and heaving. By the time I am just spitting up bile, my vision is blurry and spotty, my lack of oxygen making me feel like I'm about to pass out. Somehow, I manage to keep myself conscious, despite how the room keeps rocking left and right, making my head spin. My nose feels stuffy and there are pieces of... something stuck in my scraggly beard. I cough and spit to get any remnants out of my mouth, wiping my lips against my arm before letting myself flop down on the bed, lying there spent and exhausted, waiting for the dizziness to subside. Again with these... These visions, or hallucinations, or whatever. Will they ever stop? How long before I can no longer distinguish between what is real and what is just in my head? And how long can I keep them secret? I am going insane, there is no way to deny it, and sooner or later someone will witness one of my episodes and realize it too; and then, they will fear me even more. Two hours later and I feel like I'm about to climb the walls. I am sitting on the edge of the bed, looking towards the window, my heel thumping repeatedly in quick rhythm against the marble floor and my fingers interlocked with each other to try to keep them from fidgeting around. Two weeks in this room, yet now when I am moments away from being rid of it, now I start feeling antsy? I'm not even sure why, part of me has dreaded having to leave, to go back out there. At least here there are fewer ponies walking around. Am I nervous because I don't want to leave? That's stupid... There will be even less ponies in my home, so if that's what's making me hesitate I should be ecstatic to return home. So what is it then? What could possible compel me to want to remain in this hospital? My presence here is hardly welcome, the staff is probably relieved to have me out of their manes finally. I had sneaked away to the bathrooms once the room had stopped spinning in my head, emptying and cleaning the bucket, as well as washed my face and mouth, leaving no trace of my little... accident. I have been doing this since I regained the use of my legs, every time my nausea overcame me, I would clean up before anyone noticed. I didn't want to give Sweetheart more things to fuss over, running the risk of keeping me here longer for any more treatments. I just wanted to get out of here, or so I thought before this uneasiness gripped me. I've managed to avoid getting caught; seems like there is not much activity in this part of the hospital. Probably because it's my part. I am pulled out from my thoughts by the sound of the door opening and the clopping of hooves. Turning my head, I see Doctor Stable and Nurse Sweetheart enter the room. The doctor is holding a clipboard suspended in the air with his magical grip, stopping to push his glasses up along his muzzle as he flips through the papers with practiced scrutiny, humming quietly, too preoccupied to even spare me a glance. Sweetheart is not wearing her cap, and a white scarf is wrapped around her neck, effectively hiding the bruises on her neck from view. I instantly feel a lump in my chest, I want to look away, but my eyes are drawn to what she is carrying in her mouth. Two packages, wrapped up in paper of a vivid purple color, one small and looks to be holding something soft, the other one long and rigid, both of them tied up together with red silk wrapping, that she is biting onto in order to carry it, tied into a large bow. What in the...? "So, ready for the big day? Finally glad to be out of here at last, I assume?" The doctor's voice draws my attention, finally looking up from the clipboard, meeting my eyes with a smile that feels a bit forced. There is just the tiniest hint of trepidation in his words. Out of the two of us, I can guess who's more happy that this day has come. I hide those thoughts, as usual, and I don't answer either. The questions were obviously rhetorical. Sweetheart walks over to my bed and places the packages down on it, releasing them from her mouth and taking a few steps back with a little smile, one that is a little more sad than her usual ones. I eye the packages one more time before standing up on my feet, accompanied by a few grunts, my body protesting slightly by reminding me how tender it still feels. "What's this?" I say while tilting my head at the packages. The doctor gives one small glance at them before meeting my eyes again. "Those were left here for you several days ago, by miss Rarity. She said to give them to you when you where cleared to check out of the hospital." I raise my eyebrows, creasing my forehead. Saying that my face looked stunned would have been an understatement. Rarity? She would have been the last pony I expected to come by again, much less leaving me these packages. "She wanted to give them in person, but since you wouldn't accept any visitors..." I just stand there looking at the gift-wrapped parcels for a while, not really sure what to do. Eventually I close in on them, leaning down and grabbing on to one of the ends of the bow with my fingers. It comes undone effortlessly with a simple tug. I focus on the smaller one first, gently unwrapping the paper to reveal its contents. Inside are some of my clothes, cleaned and folded neatly in a stack. I lay them out over the bed. A pair of dress shoes, dark blue jeans, a white shirt and a cream-colored turtleneck sweater. All of these were clothes that Rarity had made for me a long time ago... Feels like another lifetime. "That's great! Now you don't have to freeze on your way home. I was thinking about running over to your home and bring some of your clothes here, but it seems that won't be necessary now." Sweetheart chimes in from behind me. Her voice still sounds very sore, but I am too dumbstruck to really listen as I just stare over the clothes. Why would she do something like this for me? My eyes eventually drift to the other longer package. I lift it up in my hands, whatever is inside it's thin and hard, but very light. Finding the seem of the paper with my fingers I start unwrapping it. What I find inside stuns me even more than the first package. A cane, its long wooden shaft is colored black and shining with polish. The head has been meticulously carved into the shape of a horse's head while still being smooth enough to be able to fit comfortably in the palm of a hand. My hand. I place the tip against the floor, resting my hand on the head of it, testing it. It is the perfect length. I am speechless, my mind going almost blank as I feel along the head of the masterfully crafted cane with my palm. There is only one thought going through my mind right now, one question: Why? The clothes I could maybe understand, if someone else had sent her to drop them off. But this cane? The gift-wrapping? She put great care and thought into this. But why? I thought I knew where I stood with her. The last time I saw her, two weeks ago, she was acting so strange. She had never been confrontational about her hate for me, but I could always sense it under her polite words. That time though, she had been so... Hesitant and uncertain... Not at all like her. "That's a wonderful gift." I hear Sweetheart's voice again, soft, or as soft as she can manage right now. I don't look at her, staring distantly at nothing instead. My fingers trail along the details of the carving. Yes, it truly is... But what does it mean? I don't even dare to guess. To make assumptions and risk getting my hopes up... Better to stay ignorant and let it remain a mystery... The doctor clears his throat, grabbing my attention as I look at him. "Well, I just want to remind you to take it easy for a time. You may be able to walk, but it will take time for all the damage to heal completely, so try not to strain yourself." He scratches his chin with a hoof ponderously for a second. "Aaaand... That's it! You're officially cleared to return home." He gives a... Surprisingly genuine smile, though it disappears when something seems to dawn on him. "Oh, one last thing. Nurse Sweetheart has volunteered to walk you home, just to make sure you get there without problem." Before I can say anything, he turns to her, giving her a concerned look. "And Sweetheart, I would like you to take a few days off." She looks at him with confusion. "Your voice doesn't sound well, and you've been wearing that scarf inside, insisting that you're freezing. I'm worried you might be starting to get a cold. Rest up a bit and see if you feel any better, alright?" Sweetheart looks at him for a moment before giving a small nod. "Alright, doctor." She turns her head towards me. I am staring at her, my jaw slack in disbelief. She hasn't told anyone? Not only that, she's actively covering up what had happened? What is she doing? Her eyes meet mine, looking a bit like she's fearful that I'm going to say something and expose the truth. I really should. Why is she going to these lengths? We stand there in silence, staring at each other. Doctor Stable looks back and forth between us, confusion written on his face. "Um... Is something wrong? Are you alright with Nurse Sweetheart walking you home, Anon?" We keep standing like that for several seconds, me trying to wrap my head around what she's doing, and her staring pleadingly into my eyes, waiting for my answer with a mix of hope and fear. This pony... The chances she takes with me... No matter what I do, and have done, she just won't quit on me. Stupid, stubborn mare... She's playing with fire, I just know it... Why doesn't she give up? What does she see in me that's so worth saving? I am nothing, she keeps fighting for nothing... But at least she's fighting... For me... I sigh quietly as I ignore my internal protests, giving a small nod. "Yeah..." Her face lights up with relief, her eyes silently thanking me, that little smile back on her lips. My own eyes speak only of pained uncertainties. The doctor looks at both of us silently for a moment, seemingly no less confused by the silent communication between me and the nurse before he finally composes himself, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Very well then... Um... Well, you are free to leave whenever you're ready. I wish you well, and a speedy recovery." It's a bit hard to tell how much sincerity is in those words, partly because of the awkwardness and partly because I'm just half-listening to his words, still kinda debating with myself over my decision. He looks over the clothes placed on my bed. "Do you need any help with getting dressed?" I shake my head, turning to my bed. "Thanks, doc, for everything, but I can dress myself. I'll be out in a minute." Taking this as their cue, they both turn and walk towards the doors. Only one set of hooves keeps walking past the door though, the other one coming to a stop before. I'm not surprised to see Sweetheart standing in the doorway looking at me when I turn my head, meeting my eyes. She doesn't say anything, she just gives me that sad smile again, wordlessly thanking me for accepting despite my doubts. My eyes trail down to the scarf around her neck, a heavy shadow falling over my mind as I divert my eyes to the floor. When she too walks out, I turn back to the folded clothes on my bed, considering them for a moment before giving a small, derisive grunt. "Humph, help with getting dressed? Whatever..." I grumble to myself. Even with my injuries, how hard could it be? Turns out, getting dressed was a little bit harder than how I remembered... The shirt was no problem. The sweater? Piece of cake. Just a little tenderness in my ribs when I lifted my arms. The pants though... I'm glad no one was around to see that spectacle... Not to mention the shoes. Never have I had to position myself so awkwardly just to put on shoes. I got through it eventually though, even if it did take longer then a minute, like I had claimed. And now, here I am, standing outside Ponyville Hospital. It's noon, the sun having reached its highest peak, its rays bringing light and warmth, but now and then, a cool wind blows by, reminding everyone that summer is starting to reach it's end. In almost half a month from now the leaves will turn to shades of red, yellow and orange and the Running of the Leaves will commence. It will get colder, but today, it's still fairly warm, though I am grateful for the cover my clothes give me from the winds. I look down at myself, tugging a little at the front of my sweater. It hangs loose around my body. All my clothes do. They no longer fit, showing clearly how thin I have become. A sad sigh escapes my lips. "Is something wrong?" Sweetheart walks up to my side and looks up at my face with a hint of worry. I meet her eyes for a second before turning my sight forward, looking out over the road leading into Ponyville, the town I have called home, though it hasn't truly felt like it for a very long time. "It's nothing. Let's just go." Without even waiting for her I start walking, supporting myself on the cane in my hand as I limp forward with a stiff gait. Sweetheart quickly joins me by my side, matching her pace to mine. The walk is slow and arduous, not helped by the awkward silence that hangs over us as we enter the town, the atmosphere changing quickly as we do. We enter not far from the market district, many ponies are walking to and fro along the street to make their purchases, chattering with each other. Until they spot me that is. When they do, they fall silent. The more of them that notice me, the quieter it gets. Some start whispering to each other, but they also go quiet when I get too close. They keep their distance, moving as far to the side as the streets will let them, some even electing to cut through the alleys as soon as they spot me down the street. I start shaking, not from the cold winds, but their eyes. All those eyes. Everywhere. All of them on me, staring. They are judging me again. Their eyes of fear and disgust. I feel myself wilting under their collective gaze, flinching at every new set of eyes that fall on me, like it had burned me. Some of the ponies seem almost taken aback by my fearful reaction to their scrutiny, their faces shifting into looks of uncertainty, even sorrow. It hardly registers in my brain. It's probably just lies, lies to themselves and to me. Ponies do not care about me, they fear and hate me. All of them. My pulse is banging frantically against my temples. I try to keep my eyes nailed to the ground, my head hung low, hiding under the frizzy bangs of my hair, but I can't stop them from darting around every time I notice another pony in the corner of my eyes. My breathing is rapid and uneven. Please, stop looking at me. Don't look at me, I don't want you to look at me. I want to tell them to stop, but I can't. If I do, they'll hate me even more. They'll come for me, run me out of town, or worse... Sweetheart also seems uncomfortable with all the looks we are attracting, nervously meeting the many eyes of the ponies around us. Sensing my growing anxiety though, she looks up at my face. She says something, but at first I can't hear her, there is a ringing in my ears. Eventually, she manages to catch my eyes. Her's are not fearful, not judging, not angry. Her blue eyes show only compassion and concern. They pull me out of my panic far enough that I can eventually make out her words. "-non? Anon, can you hear me? It's okay, no one's going to hurt you. I'm here, I won't let anything happen to you, alright?" My breathing slows down somewhat, and I give her a small nod, if only to let her know I understood her. She gives me a quick, relieved smile before looking around the street, spotting something then locking eyes with me again. "This way, we'll cut through this alley to a less crowded street." She takes charge and makes a sharp turn to the left, making sure I'm always right behind her as I follow her lead. She guides me into one of the alleyways, the murmurs of the ponies dying out behind us. Once we reach the end of the alleyway, we end up at the edge of a street that truly is a lot less busy, only one or two ponies walking by every now and then. I lean up against the nearest wall, trying to catch my breath and give my pulse a chance to calm down, wiping beads of sweat form my forehead with my arm. That was... Intense. My head feels all muddy and hazy. That felt so unreal, I'm not entirely convinced it wasn't just some nightmare. "How are you feeling?" I look down to find Sweetheart meeting my eyes with worry clearly written on her face. Her voice hasn't gotten any better, but right now I can't deny how relieved I am to hear and see her. I push that thought from my mind. No, I can't do this... I'm the reason she was hurt. Can't let her get too close. "I'm fine... Just need to catch my breath." I manage to wheeze out between my panting. She frowns, not buying it for a moment. "You're not 'fine'. You were terrified back there." She manages to keep her voice calm, despite the scolding look she gives me. Spotting a crate, I shuffle over to it and flop myself down on it. Sweetheart follows me, placing herself once again in front of me, our eyes now almost at the same level as she stares into mine "How are you going to live like this if this keeps happening?" I close my eyes and shake my head. "Don't..." I say quietly. "You're killing yourself, Anon. You need to let somepony help you." "Don't. Please." I open my eyes again, staring into hers, a tired sadness washing over me. It must show in my eyes, because she goes silent, her face softening. "Please... I am so tired of hearing this from everyone... I don't want to talk about it." I take a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "And I don't want to argue. So can we please just... Just keep going." She looks at me uncertainly, I can see that she doesn't want to let it go and that she is torn about what to do. I just meet her eyes, the same tired look in my eyes still there. Eventually she falters and gives me a slow, sad nod of her head. "Okay." She sighs. I push myself off the crate, my head feeling a little woozy from standing up. Sweetheart turns and looks down the street. Further down it forks into two directions. She looks over the road going right, then turns to me. "This way is the quickest route to your street, it will take us close to the main street but there usually isn't that many ponies around this time of the day, so we could just-" "No." I cut her off, earning me a confused look. I point to the road going left. "We'll take this road. We can get to my home through there as well." She looks towards the left street, then back to me. "But it will take almost half an hour longer that way." She lifts one of her hooves, pointing it in the direction of the right street. "I really think we should-" "No, I-" I bite my lower lip, staring into the ground before pleadingly looking into Sweetheart's eyes. "I can't go that way..." She tilts her head to the side. Lowering her hoof, she takes a few steps closer to me, trying to read my face. "Why?" I open then immediately close my mouth again, averting my eyes to the side to stare at the ground again, my grip around my cane tightening. I take a breath to steady myself. "That road goes by the Schoolhouse... I can't... I can't go that way." Images flash before my eyes briefly. Images of a young cerise-colored mare being slammed down against her own desk, helpless to the lustful whims of the predator looming over her, and a small yellow filly with a bow in her hair, fearfully staring at the atrocity being committed to her teacher before her very eyes. I shake my head, trying to get the images out of my head before looking into Sweetheart's eyes again. "I can't go near that place, not after what happened there. And if any of the children sees me... The fear in their eyes... I just-" She hushes me softly, placing one of her hooves against my leg. "Okay, I understand. We'll take the other road. Just, please..." She gives me pleading look. "Try not to strain yourself, if you start feeling tired or the pain returns, we'll take a rest, alright?" I nod in response. I don't like how she keeps fussing and worrying over me, but I keep it to myself for now. Like I said, I don't want to argue. We've settled back into our silence as we make our way down the street. We don't encounter anymore crowds, just a few small groups of ponies here and there at the most. They still react the same way when they see me, but for the most part I manage to force myself not to think about it, though it's not easy. Eventually though, I start feeling the pain creeping up my spine again. I don't say anything, I know I made a promise, but it is not that bad yet, and as long as I can hide it from Sweetheart, I'll keep it to myself. There are a few things occupying my mind right now anyway, some questions actually. I turn my head and look down at the mare walking beside me. "So how come you know where I live anyway?" I think I accidentally startle her when I break the silence, she tenses up for a tenth of a second before turning to me with a surprised look. She collects herself quickly enough, raising her eyebrows at my question. "Everypony knows where you live, Anon." She states very matter-of-factly. "Oh..." Don't know why that would surprise me, all things considered, but I can't say I like that thought. She gives me an apologetic smile before continuing. "Also, I live only a few blocks away, down on Gallop street" - these ponies and their weird naming conventions - "so I'm very familiar with the streets around here." We go silent again. I am preparing myself for the next question, rubbing the back of my neck and making sure I'm not showing any signs of my growing aches. I take a deep breath. Now or never, I suppose. "Why did you do it?" She gives me a quizzical look. "Do what? Do you mean what happened at that crowd? Well, I could see how distressed you were becoming, so-" "No, not that." I look her in the eyes, making sure I have her full attention and that she sees the seriousness in my face. "Why did you hide what I had done?" I ask, almost sternly. I look down at her neck, sending a shiver up my spine, to drive my meaning home. She follows my gaze, looking at her scarf, then back at my face again. "I..." She bites her lip. "I didn't want to risk getting you into trouble. It was an accident, but if somepony found out they..." She stops, hesitating and averting her eyes. "They would become even more scared of me..." I finish her sentence for her, drawing her eyes to meet mine again, a sad look in them. "Look... You may not believe it, but there are some of us who wants to see you get better, and the last thing you need are ponies finding excuses to blame you for more things that aren't your fault." "Aren't they?" She pulls her head back, taken aback by my question. Before she can say anything though, I grunt and stumble to the side by a fierce jolt of pain traveling from my left leg and up my lower back, making me see spots for a few seconds. I manage to catch myself, wobbling a bit before straightening myself up. I rub my eyes to get the spots out of my vision. What greets me is the disapproving frown of a nurse pony. "Have you been keeping your pain hidden from me? I thought we agreed that we would take a rest if your wounds started acting up?" Great, she's using the angry-mother tone again. "It's nothing, I just want to get to my house and off the street, then I can rest." She just narrows her eyes at me. "You can rest now. What good will trying to get home do if you run yourself into the ground before you even get there?" "I told you, I don't want to argue, and we're not in the hospital anymore so don't tell me what to-" "Hey, look what we have here." We're interrupted by a voice coming from above us, shortly followed by the flapping of two pairs of wings as something lands behind us. Both of us turn around, finding two pegasi stallions standing there. I don't recognize either of them, they're not from Ponyville I think, probably travelers passing by or visiting some acquaintance in town. One has a mane and coat in various tones of grey with green eyes, the other one is chestnut brown with a blonde, messy mane and hazel eyes. They are both sporting wide shit-eating grins. They look like troublemakers. "Think this is the freak we've been hearing about?" "Has to be, it sure looks like a freak." They snicker, their stupid grins growing wider. "Out for a walk, freak? Heard you were in the hospital. Tried to off yourself, huh?" "Nah, I heard he got beat up by some mare. Big, scary freak, aren't ya? Got beat up by a mare." They have a long chuckle at their own little humor. "Probably somepony looking for payback. You heard what this sick bastard did to those mares, right?" "Yeah, heard all about it. Freak deserved it if you ask me." I don't say anything, I just stare at the dirt road under my feet. It's not like their words don't affect me, but I can't bring myself to come with any kind of retort to defend myself. After all, they're not wrong. Everything they've said, I tell myself constantly. How can I protest against something I know is true. Sweetheart has other thoughts though, giving the both of them death glares, yet somehow keeping herself from exploding on them. "Back off." She practically growls through gritted teeth before turning to me, he face softening as she tries to look me in the eye, but I keep averting them. I can't look at her. "Ignore those idiots. Let's just keep going." Abandoning the idea of having me rest in favor of getting me away from the pegasi taunting me, she lightly nuzzles my side, urging me to turn and continue down the street. The sound of hooves matching our pace behind us though signifies that our tormentors aren't done with us yet. "Aw, what's this? The freak's got himself a little friend. Isn't that sweet?" "Nah, that's just sad. She probably doesn't have any real friends. What do you say, little missy? Want to be friends with us instead?" "Don't bother, she's too old for you and bit too chubby for me. Besides, if she's hanging with this freak, she's probably damaged goods." The both of us stop dead in our tracks. I stand completely frozen in place, a cold feeling in my gut as I stare out at nothing. Sweetheart on the other hand, she spins around and stomps over to them. getting right up in their faces, her cheeks flushed red with anger. "What the hay do you mean by 'damaged goods'? Why can't you featherbrains take a hint and just fly on out of here?" Her voice is full of indignation as she speaks through gritted teeth. The stallions seem unaffected though, as they only laugh in her face. "Oh look, the freak's little pet friend is mad at us. How scary." "Coming to the defense of you freak friend are you? Big, scary freak can't stand up for himself." "You must be damaged goods. Did he bend you over as well?" The grip around my cane tightens, my arms shaking fiercely as I clench my fingers. "Stop it! Just leave him alone!" Sweethearts voice is quivering with anger, as well as frustration over how her words are just being ignored by the stallions. "Oh, that has to be it! He did, didn't he?" "He must have, and she's defending him. What's wrong? Couldn't get a real stallion?" "S- Stop it!" Her voice begins to falters under their relentless assault. I'm gritting my teeth so hard they are loudly grinding against each other. "A mule like her, nopony would want. Figures she would have to turn to a freak to scratch her itch." They start laughing again. "What did you say?" Their laughter immediately dies in their throats as all falls deathly silent. My voice is low, cold, dangerous. Slowly, I turn around. My eyes are wide open in a death glare and my teeth are bared. They are no longer grinning and the color has been drained from their faces. Sweetheart is staring at me, mouth slightly agape. I burrow my glare into those two little shitbirds. "You little fucking pukes!" I growl, taking a step towards them. They both quickly back up, their wings quivering and their tails between their legs, terrified expressions plastered on their dumb faces. "What. Did. You. Say!?" I roar at them. "Please! We're sorry! We didn't mean nothing by it!" "Nothing by it?" I narrow my eyes at them, the scowl on my face somehow becoming more filled with rage. "I ought to tear your wings off! See how you like it when you're the prey of someone bigger than you!" "We're sorry, don't hurt us! We'll leave, we promise!" I don't listen to their mewling as I start stomping towards them, wielding my cane like a club more than a walking stick. "Anon!" Sweetheart cries out. Placing herself between me and the two pegasi, she stands up on her hind legs and place her fore hooves against my chest. I look down at her, my face still contorted with anger and I'm breathing heavily through my nose. She meets my eyes, with a firm yet pleading look. "Just let them go, they're not worth it." Her voice is calm and even. Gradually, I slow my breathing down, lowering my arms, my posture becoming more relaxed and the anger in my face dying down, if not disappearing. She nods her head a few times. "Good, let it go." She gets down on all fours again, keeping her eyes on me. I meet her eyes for awhile before shifting my gaze upwards, the pegasi stallions are still standing there, one of them letting out a small yelp when my eyes lock on to them. Gritting my teeth again, I give them a short growl. Their reaction is instantaneous, they can't get into the air fast enough as they practically slap each other with their wings as they desperately flap them, disappearing quickly over the rooftops. Sweetheart watches as they scurry away, before turning to me with a frown on her face. "Anon!" "What!?" I say defensively, throwing my arms out. "Are you defending them now?" "You can't act like that!" She looks around before lowering her voice. "You are scaring ponies." I look around the street. There are a few ponies around, staring at us, flinching and cowering as soon as I look in their direction. I clench my fists and turn back to Sweetheart. "So when you ponies come into my life, trying to 'help' me, I should be grateful, but the moment I stand up for you I'm a bad guy!?" I can't keep my voice down, this isn't fair. "Nothing I do will ever be good enough for this town!" "And how will they react if word comes out that you are threatening ponies in the streets?" She tries to whisper, but can't help but raise her voice slightly, making it sound more like a hiss. I just shake my head. "I can't believe this..." I mutter. "This is the thanks I get... Screw this." I turn around and start to walk away, forgetting the pain that's been building up inside of me, though my body is quick to remind me of it when I try to move in a quicker pace. The nerves in my lower back feel like they just got hit by lightning. With a throaty groan, I come to stop before I could even take more than three steps, leaning on my cane for support. Sweetheart is by my side in an instant, looking over my pained face with concern. "Anon, look... Let's- Let's just get out of here, okay? It's not that much further. Let's just go." I don't look at her, focusing my sight on the ground instead, eventually nodding in agreement. Back to an uncomfortable silence, we continue on our path. Nothing more is said between us, but I can't help but sneak a few glances at her as we walk. Part of me is still angry, I was just trying to defend her, but for the most part, I'm just feeling that same cold feeling I get every time we argue. This knot in my stomach, and this feeling that I am loosing something. Worst of all, I know she is right. My anger got the better of me and I might just have done further damage to my reputation, if I can still believe that I have any left. I try to think back, trying to remember what was going through my head at the time, but it's like white noise, unclear, unfocused. The anger is all I can recall. I did not mean to react so... Violently. I wanted them to go away, to leave her alone, but I never had any intentions of threatening them. So why did I do it? And would I have gone through with it? When I advanced on them, I think I actually would have done it... The thought scares me. How could I loose control so badly? If Sweetheart hadn't been there... After a few more painstaking minutes, my home finally comes into view. I'm surprised to see a new front door adorning the front of my house and that my broken window has been boarded up, the glass shards that had littered the ground nowhere to be seen. When did this happen? We come to a stop outside the front door. It's strange to be standing here again, back to square one. I hear Sweetheart scuffing the ground with her hoof, but I keep my eyes nailed to the door. "Well, here we are." She says. I still don't look at her, nor do I say anything. We stand in silence for a while, the occasional gust of wind passing by being the only sound, making my hair sway lightly. Eventually she breaks the silence when she gives up on me saying anything. "I suppose this is goodbye then?" Her voice sounds very forlorn, her words makes an ice cold lump form in my throat; I swallow hard, but it doesn't help. In the corner of my eye, I can see her turn around slowly to leave, her head hanging low, eyeing the ground. Words from two days ago go through my mind for a second time today. You could never understand... No one can... No one can unless you let us understand. I just want to help you. I raise my head, taking a deep breath through my nose and close my eyes. "I fell in love you know..." I say with a hint of melancholy in my voice. I hear her steps come to a halt. "What?" I open my eyes and look at her. She has turned her head to look back at me, her eyebrows raised as she regards me curiously. I avert my eyes to the ground. "That's how all of this started. I had a home, friends, I was happy." I give a short, mirthless chuckle that sounds more like a grunt. "But I suppose you always want more, huh? We're never satisfied with what we have... Not until we've lost it anyway. There was this one girl I really liked..." I stop to clear my throat, my voice suddenly starting to quiver and break. Sweetheart has moved to my side, sitting down on the ground next to me, looking up at my face. "A pony?" I look down at her, my eyes have grown misty and wet. "Yeah, weird huh? A human falling in love with a pony..." I look away, using my free hand to wipe away the tears that have started to gather at the corners of my eyes. It still hurts to think about. "But I loved everything about her, her voice, her tenderness, the infinite kindness she would show to everything around her. We had been friends for a long time and I knew I would never meet another human again." My face becomes more grim. "I decided to confess to her how I truly felt..." "What happened?" Her voice is also starting to grow weak and quivering. I close my eyes as the first tears roll down my cheeks before focusing on the ground again. "It happened." There is a moment of silence before I continue. "I told her how I felt, telling her how I wished to be more than friends. She did not feel the same way... And at that moment, in my weakness, I lost everything. Everything. Because I fell in love..." I turn towards her, looking into her eyes. Her cheeks are wet with tears of her own, but she doesn't sob or cry, keeping silent while listening to my every word. "Love's supposed to save us, right? That's how the stories go. Love is the emotion that will conquer all and lead us to our happily ever after. Well... All it's done for me is take everything I have, all that I am and crushed it. And I dragged every one around me down with me. All because I let my emotions guide me" I take a long, trembling breath. "You say I need to let someone in so they can help me, but I can't, because I can't trust myself. You saw what happened with those two pegasi? I still can't control my emotions... And I can't risk any one else getting hurt because of me..." She looks sorrowfully down at the ground for a moment, her ears laying flat against her head. She seems to be pondering something. Eventually she raises her head to look at me again. "Do you still love her?" Her question takes me a bit by surprise. I blink a few times, more tears breaking loose and rolling down the sides of my face. I turn my face and eyes in the direction of the ground again. "No..." I still care about her... But I don't feel love anymore... Even if I wanted to feel love again, after all that has happened, the word itself has lost it's meaning and I can no longer think about it without being reminded of what I have done. Even the thought about any kind of... 'Intimacy' does nothing but bring up memories I wish I could forget, memories of pain, blood and betrayal. I feel none of those urges anymore, the very thought of it makes my stomach churn and my blood run cold, I have pretty much been effectively neutered by my experiences. "Do you want me to stay?" I shake my head. "I'd rather not. The place was horrible the last time I was here, can't imagine what it's like now..." "I wouldn't care about that. If you want to talk more-" "No, it's fine..." I look her in the eyes again. "Maybe some other time? When I've had the chance to tidy up the place." She gives me a little smile through her tear soaked face, nodding her head. "Another time then. I'll be sure to come by in a few days." She gives me a very serious look. "And you'd better not turn me away at the door when I do." I meet her eyes without saying anything for a few seconds before answering her with a nod. Her little smile returns. "See you then, Anon, and take care of yourself." She continues as she turns around and starts walking down the road in the opposite direction we came from, towards her own street. After just a few meters away though, she comes to a stop. She turns her head and looks back at me. "Remember when you asked me if it's possible to heal a broken bond, and if past mistakes can be forgiven?" I look at her for a moment, unsure of where she is going with bringing this up now. I nod, making sure she can see it from over there. I can make out the smile that she gives me. "I still stand by my answer." With that, she turns and continues down her path, no longer stopping. I look after her as she trots away. She really never gives up, does she? That feeling of loss is back again however. What does it mean? This sense of foreboding... Like I risk not seeing her again if she leaves. I don't know where this feeling comes from, and I know it probably means nothing, but the thought still scares me. I think back once again to that argument two days ago. If nothing else, there is one mistake that I have waited too long to fix already, and I can do that now before she leaves. I raise my hand and am just about to call out to her when I freeze up... A terrible cold crawls up my spine, making every hair on my body stand on end. My pulse quickens and I find myself holding my breath. My eyes dart from side to side, scanning the street, the road, every corner, window, and alleyway. There is nothing there. But I can sense something in the air, every instinct in my body warning me. There is danger. This is the feeling the prey experiences as the predator stalks him. Something is watching me... I twist and turn, trying to find some angle or nook that I might have missed, but I find nothing. Suddenly, the feeling fades away as quickly as it had appeared. I stand there dumbfounded. Had I just imagined it? Was this my mind playing another trick on me? It felt so real, but so had every other episode I have experienced also felt at the moment it happened. Lifting my hand to my face, I rub my eyes. My grip on reality is growing weaker. There is probably not much hope for me by this point, unless what Sweetheart's been telling me is true, that there is always a chance. Sweetheart! I look down the road, just in time to see her disappear around the corner at the end of the street. I attempt to run after her, only to have my body painfully protesting as soon as I take my first step. It's no use. By the time I've managed to hobble over to the corner she will already be long gone. Reluctantly, I resign myself to the idea that I will just have to wait until the next time I see her to tell her. If I get a chance to see her again... I still can't shake the feeling of dread I've been having... No, I'll definitely see her again... I hope... Sighing, I turn to my front door. A thought strikes me... I don't have my key on me... I groan at the thought that I just might be locked out of my own home, alone and half-crippled in the street. Then again... I didn't exactly lock the door before ending up in the hospital either, on account of it being knocked off its hinges and me being unconscious. Also, this is a new door, my old key might not even fit in it to begin with... Why am I just standing here instead of simply checking the door to see if it's even locked at all? Thanks brain, glad to see you're still good for something other than giving me nightmares and anxiety attacks. I reach out and grab the doorknob, the metal feeling cool against my fingers. Twisting my hand, I find that it turns without problem, signifying that the door is in fact unlocked. I let go of the doorknob, letting the door get pushed slightly ajar by the breeze, a small crack letting a sliver sunlight into my home. It's probably been unlocked this entire time I've been gone. I wonder if I'll find signs of foals that have been sneaking into my home, trying to impress their friends by breaking into the house of the scary creature living there. Placing my hand against the surface of the door, I give it a small push, making it swing open all the way. Home, sweet home, I somberly think to myself as I step inside, preparing myself for what kind of new smells and gross sights that has been accumulating while I've been away. Instead, I find floors free of refuse, not even a single dust bunny marring the polished floorboards, curtains pulled open to let light shine against the clean surface. The broken table is nowhere to be seen and there is a completely new, clean couch standing where my old one had been. Some things still remain, there is a crack on the far wall where I had been thrown into it, the faded trace of a dark stain and a crack in the wallpaper of another wall from the bottle I had thrown at it, and a hoof-shaped crack in one of the floorboards. But other than that... I can't even remember the last time that I had seen this place so clean. I stand there, my feet practically nailed to the spot, slack-jawed, just looking around the room in befuddlement. How in the? Who the? When? What? I was expecting a few things when I walked through the door, but this was none of those things. The air is clean and fresh, and I can smell a hint of lemon in it. It's strange to be able to see the floor so clearly after all this time, no moldy leftovers, no bottles, no stains... In fact, the longer I stand here, the more I realize how... Empty it really is... There are hardly any furniture, no decorations or plants, there's not even a carpet on the floor. Everything just feels so open, so empty... So lifeless... I take a few steps further into the living room, not thinking about closing the door behind me. A loud clack echoes in the room when the tip of my cane comes into contact with the floor. A sound catches my attention, making me freeze up. I stand completely still, straining my ears. It had sounded like a sharp intake of air, like a startled gasp. I hold my breath, trying not to make any noise while I wait to see if it comes again. Where had it come from? If it even had truly happened. I keep hearing and seeing things that are not there, can't trust my senses. Had it just been in my mind again? Another sound, the creaking of a floorboard. My eyes widen. The sound is real. My mouth is slightly agape and I keep holding my breath, my heart racing in my chest. I grip my cane in both hands, not daring to move from my spot as my eyes dart around, looking around the room, the doorway to the kitchen, the doors leading to the bathroom, the closet and the bedroom I've never used. My hands clench tightly around the walking stick in their grip, sweat building in my palms, panic rising in my chest. There is something in here with me.