//------------------------------// // Verse One // Story: Sonata's Poem // by Hoshii Niisan //------------------------------// Sonata Dusk sat down at her desk that night. She remembered the events of that day- on her way off the stage, the audience shouted horrible things at her, Aria Blaze, and Adagio Dazzle. Afterward, Adagio had smacked her. "You... why would you do that?" She yelled, enraged by their loss to the Rainbooms. "What did I do?" Sonata replied, trying to keep her fake smile intact. As useless as it was, she was somehow able to accomplish it. "Nothing," replied Aria. "But you do make a good punching bag." The smile disappeared, and a frown almost materialized out of thin air. She was on the verge of crying, but the other two could care less. They continued to throw taunts at her. "You're useless!" "You're pathetic!" "Ugh! Get out of my sight!" "You were the weak link!" "Everything the audience said about you is true!" There was one comment that came from Adagio that hurt. It hurt almost like a stab would to the heart. "Go kill yourself!" Sonata no longer had the urge to cry. She was crying already. She ran home. She sped carelessly through the crowded streets and piled through the apartment buildings, oblivious to the people she was bumping into. "Watch it, kid!" The people uttered as she bursted through. She didn't care. She shoved through the crowds to her apartment room where she lived alone, and upon her arrival kicked the door open, slamming it and locking it behind her. She first crawled to her room and sobbed. She huddled in a corner, whimpering, fearful of the many thoughts in her head. She had been told she should kill herself... was Adagio right? Was she just a useless punching bag with no other uses? Should she end it all? After all, the Sirens were her only friends. Well, not anymore, since she said... she shuddered, tears flowing down her red cheeks. She sniffled once more, and crawled to her desk. She grabbed one of her special notebooks and a pencil. She had been taught by her mother that she should express her feelings with paper. *** "If you're feeling depressed, write your feelings in a poem," she urged, embracing her in a warm hug. "Show me the paper when you're done, and we can work out your depression. Okay?" She pecked her head, hugging once more. Sonata left to her room to write her first poem ever. That was the last day she saw her mother. That night, she had to go to the bathroom. She knocked on the door, there was light coming through the bottom of the door. "Mommy?" She asked. "Are you in there?" No reply came from her. Sonata curiously peered under the door. "Are you okay, mommy?" Still no reply. Her curiosity got the best of her as she opened the door, only a crack at first. But the wonder of discover was too much. She whisked the door open. She screamed. And screamed. And cried for the first time. Her mommy lay stiffly motionless on the floor, surrounded by little white and red dots. They looked sort of like the pills she took for her stomach. "Mommy, wake up!" She tapped her face, desperate for a sound, a sudden breath, a cough. But she exerted no sound. "Mommy!" She screamed as she ran to them telephone. She dialed the three numbers mommy had taught her to dial when there was an emergency: 9-1-1 *** Sonata shed painful tears as she remembered the event. She scribbled the first word. Today No that won't do it, she thought. I need to make a real poem. *** The police arrived at the door. She identified them by the flashing red and blue lights. "Show me the body," one policewoman ordered calmly. Sonata grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the bathroom where her mother lay with the pills surrounding her. The medics carried her on a gurney, checking for any pulse. They shook their heads sadly, looking at Sonata after they did so. She screamed, starting to hyperventilate. "Miss," said the policewoman, embracing her just as her mother would. The policewoman continued. "Does your daddy live elsewhere?" "Y-yes," she stuttered, embracing her back. "In the apartment in town." "I'm going to take you there," she replied. She took her in the police car, directing her as she went. Her father screamed and hugged Sonata as he listened to the news, sobbing silently as she squeezed the young girl in his arms. The next day, her father made a promise. "I will always be here for you." He killed himself the same way her mother killed herself a month later. *** Sonata struggled to even think of a single word to write. Today, I, Adagio, even I feel didn't work for her. She looked around the room, which usually gave her some inspiration. But everything looked so cheerful around her. But that gave her an idea. Everything around here seems happy, like me on the outside, But inside, No one understand me. I try to explain my feelings to mere stuffed animals, But inside, Not even they understand me. I met Adagio when we were reborn in this human world, Seventh grade. She took me under her wing. She taught me how to be Mean, Aggressive, Unkind, Just... Mean. *** She stopped there that night, trudging to her bed, pulling the covers over her head that night. *** The next day she was met by snickers of mockery. "You screwed that up last night, Sonata!" A girl bellowed, chuckling as she watched her lower her head. It continued like this until she got to homeroom, where less people made fun of her. It descended from a hundred to about twenty. Adagio and Aria walked in late as usual, chatting about plans to punch anyone who made fun of them. Sonata buried her face in her books, but nonetheless she was spotted by Aria. "Look," she squeaked dismissively, "it's Miss Screw-Up the Punching Bag!" They knew it annoyed her when they poked her, and they did just that. They knew her Autism made her sensitive to sudden loud noises, and they dropped piles of books on the floor at random times. Miss Cheerilee, the teacher of the class, had no control over the students, they were too much of a handful. Tears made the cover of Sonata's paperback workbook soggy in places, but she didn't care. *** After her daddy passed away, Sonata was alone, and was assigned to an apartment that was next door to Canterlot High School. It functioned sort of like a college dorm. She looked at the different decorations and rooms. It was a small apartment, but just right for one person. In fact, Sonata liked it, but couldn't get her mind off of her parents' deaths. *** After constant teasing, Sonata had had enough. She let out her rage by grabbing Aria's wrist, and twisting, making sickly cracking sounds. Aria shrieked in pain, but Sonata didn't stop. She could swear she heard mommy crying in her mind, telling her to stop. She dismissively waved her worrying voice away, and returned to Aria. But Adagio lunged at her, but regretted it as Sonata took her scissors out and stabbed her in the stomach. She howled, praying for mercy. Sonata didn't stop. Aria cried out for forgiveness, trying to retract her arm from her grip. Sonata didn't stop. But Cheerliee had had enough. She grabbed Sonata by the arms in an effort to restrain her. To the students' surprise, she had the strength of a sumo wrestler, and as a result made Sonata's arms sore. *** Sonata looked around her new apartment, bothered by the memories it brought back. Merely looking at the tub in the bathroom made her cry, her mommy would laugh as she got splashed by a baby Sonata. She realized how false it all was - she had no parents as a Siren in Equestria, and she seemed to be enjoying the thought of parents so much it drove her to great depression when they died. No matter. It was time to get to unpacking. *** Principal Celestia ordered someone outside her door at all times - she was not to come out of her apartment, and her missed assignments were brought back to her room. Sonata sighed with pain as she scribbled the next part of her poem. I vaguely remember Adagio when we were in first grade, When she called a smaller kid Fat, Lazy, Useless. I figured she must be a Cool, Understanding, Loving, Almost sisterly Person. I was correct. She was so nice to me, so long as I was Just...mean. When I was nice, she would Slap, Kick, Punch, Throw me. It continued until only a few months ago. I remember that perhaps Aria was the same way, and we banded together as the Sirens we once were. Seventh grade. Now... *** Sonata couldn't find it in herself to write another word, she was exhausted by all the fear in her mind. She went to the kitchen to grab one of her knives. She grabbed the one she usually used for carrots. "Remember," her mother had warned when Sonata was desperate to help cook dinner. "Dice the carrots like this. Otherwise, you may cut yourself."