chapter 5[title: Who am I?]/
It’s so quiet.
I thought I was dead, but instead I seem to be once again shackled down. The troublesome human is quiet, and we both are striving to stay far separated, to prevent that touching of minds again.
She’s a coward. She cannot stand the idea of losing herself to the darkness, the babbling madness that is our mind, my mind. It makes me pause, makes me angry how easily we slipped together, that our thoughts touched so smoothly, like silk... I can’t ask the question.
Though this medicine is sublime, I can feel the darkness receding, eternally drawing away, like I never knew how beautiful the sunlight shining through raindrops on a window could be, until I breathe out, and the haze of reality shimmers over me. This medicine is corrupting. The doctor is nearby, watching us cautiously, I smile. I am so very familiar with caution.
“My name is Screw Loose. I am a pony. I am a good pony. Will you let me go, doctor?”
My voice, cultured and level, is not what many expect when they hear “crazy” I’m crazy, I’m mad, I’m sad, and I’m dangerous, but that’s what happens when you cage a dog. That’s all I am and ever will be, a dog.
“I don’t think I can do that, Ms. Loose. You have injured yourself a few times now, and we are worried about your safety. Is Faith okay?”
Rolling my eyes, I tug a bit on the restraints. They are firm, and I settle against them like a prisoner hanging from her chains.
“The weakling is fine. The weakling hides from me, why so many drugs, doctor? They won’t help now. They never helped before.”
He frowns and stands up, moving closer to me. His messy black hair looks like it needs to be washed, and the glasses clipped to his collar have small scratches, showing long use and frequent cleaning. I wonder if he spends all his time in the hospital. His must be a lonely life, but I am never alone. I am better than him, as the wild beast is inherently better than the cowardly pony.
“Please don’t call Faith a weakling. Can you ask her if she is okay?”
I can’t ask the question. Instead I ask my mind a better question. I ask myself if the weakling matters.
“No.”
The doctor seems concerned. I laugh at his expression, before pulling as hard as I can at my bonds, straining. My teeth get inches from his throat before he steps back. The moment he is out of reach, I am calm again and settle against my bed.
“No I can not ask her that, doctor. Ask me something, if you must ask.”
He cleans his glasses and puts them on, waiting for his own heartbeat to calm down.
“We will be transferring you to a psychiatric care facility in order to better care for you. Do you have any requests.”
Of all questions, he asks me what I want. Why not be honest? I give every doctor one chance. I lean forward just a bit and I speak carefully, enunciated and scripted words from the darkness in my mind, piped directly into my vocal cords, bypassing my own heart and the human’s failing soul.
“Collar me, cage me, make me bleed, and I will stop trying to feed.”
He looks me in the eyes then turns away and walks through the door, leaving me with only the weakling again. Just the two of us. I laugh, and whistle a happy little tune. Just the two of us.
/chapter 5