MEDIC!

by The Rohg

Chapter 1

"A guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession." - Albert Camus

This is the story of the upbringing of a young mare known as "Medic", though no one calls her that yet. It begins with her earliest memory. Her an her sisters, all seven of them, are playing in the activity area. They are each the same age, a little older than five years, and some of them are playing together, some by themselves, and one who is bounding all over the place.

They didn't have a care then, nor a fear, and were always occupying their time with something or another. They lived in their own small world to which they knew as 'The Facility', though its true name was much longer and more complex. It isolated them from everything else. Not that they were never curious, or that their mother told them not to go, but rather what 'they' wanted; the ponies with the eyes.

They were always watching, either from the side of the room, from just outside the courtyard, or from the opposite plane of a glass window. They weren't always easily found, sometimes they tried to hide, so the sisters had a game where the first to find all three was given first choice at any toys available.

They didn't call them “The Eyes” because they were always watching us, it’s because of their thick glasses. If you couldn't see them well, or were trying to find them, all you had to do was look for their brightly reflecting glasses. It was a fun game for the young fillies. The Eyes didn't talk much, but when they did, everyone listened, and everyone had to do what they said.

“Ok, we’re going to have twenty minutes of art related activity now.” One of the Eyes spoke through an overhead speaker from the other side of the glass.

Mother promptly went to the supply closet and brought out things for the fillies to draw, paint, and even build with clay.

“I don’t want to do art, I want to play ball!” Sassy demanded.

Mother tried to reason with Sassy, but she was interrupted by the Eyes.

“Ten minute timeout for Number one, then she will engage in activities with the others.”

Sassy hesitated, but she eventually went and sat in the stool in the corner that faced away from the rest of the room. She crossed her hooves and grumbled about her ball when she got there.

Timeouts were the discipline of choice if you didn't do what the Eyes told you to do then, and some the fillies got more timeouts than others. Sassy probably got the most. Her real name, the name the Eyes gave her, was Number One, but Mother insisted that they have names more meaningful and personal, so she named Number One: Sassy.

“Can I have the colored pencils, please?” Number Two took what the Eyes told to do rather seriously, and she didn't miss a single moment to dive into each new activity.

“Are we going to be graded?” she added as Mother handed her several pencils and a piece of paper. She also loved being quizzed, and knowing that she made the best scores out of any of us on a test gave her the confidence she always had.

“I don’t know, probably not. Let’s just have some fun with this, ok Valed?”

“Ok” she darted for the crafts table and immediately began drawing. The look on her face made it apparent she wasn’t following Mother’s advice this time.

Mother nearly stumbled and dropped all she was carrying as Number Eight jumped in her way.

“Claaaaaaaay!” the little filly yelled with the biggest grin she could manage to express.

“Calm down Fizz. Here, how about I set these on the craft table, and each of you can choose what you like.”

Fizz skipped in circles as the others followed Mother to the table. Valed’s concentration didn’t seem to be fazed by our approach. Fizz was quick to grab the clay, which no one minded as she was the only one who liked it. In no time at all, she had a large clump of clay in front of her; her hooves digging and stirring into it, as the clay somehow managed to get small clumps of itself in her mane.

Number Seven quickly grabbed some paper and markers.

“My picture is going to be the best!” she declared with her usual smug smile. “Even better than yours!” pointing at Valed and her incomplete picture.

“Vie!” Mother scolded “that isn’t very nice of you to say.”

Vie folded her ears in shame, but stuck her tongue out at Valed when Mother wasn’t looking anyways. Valed still didn’t seem to notice anything going on around her.

Number Four quietly took a water color set and took it to a paper easel. Number Three followed suit, but Mother stopped her.

“Fins, are you sure you’re not going to make a mess?”

“I’ll be real careful this time, I promise.” Fins pleaded; she knew she had a clumsy reputation she couldn’t live down, but she still strived on, never quitting.

“Ok, but don’t use the easel next to Harmony. The stains from last time took forever to wash out of her mane.”

Sassy snickered from her corner; some of the fillies found the flying paint incident more humorous than the rest.

Harmony didn’t think it was funny at all, but she was already busy stroking her brush across the paper in smooth sweeps. Her movements seemed like a dance with the easel as she hummed another tune she made up.

“Harmony, I can’t work with your humming!” Vie exclamated.

“Vie. Harmony isn’t doing anything to bother. You can still color and not be bothered.”

As Vie and Mother disputed, Number 6 got a tap on her wing.

“Got you some crayons, Flutters” She turned to see Number Five,who had a box in one wing, and some paper in the other.

“Thank you, Sport.” Flutters looked over at the table; she didn’t want to get involved in any of the drama over there. “Umm, want to draw over there?” There was an open space on the floor, not too far to be away from the group, but far enough to separate ourselves from any interaction.

“Sure!” Sport leaped and dove into the spot Flutters designated as theirs. Her movements were always very cat like, and when she was lying down, she couldn’t stay still, she had to remain physically active.

Flutters, however, found comfort in the tranquility of coloring on the floor, but she enjoyed Sport’s company.

Soon, the overhead speaker made a soft click; the impending sign that one of the Eyes was about to speak. It was barely audible, but it even made Valed look up from her paper.

“Number One, please join the others in the activity.”

“Finally” Sassy’s words seemed impatient, but she took her time on her way to the craft table. She took what was left; some paper and the dull pencils that Valed left. She stuck her tongue out to the side in a concentrative gesture, but her eyes quickly beamed as an idea came to her.

For a while, the fillies continued in peace, with nothing but Harmony’s humming and Sport’s shifting from one place of the floor to the next as she seemed to tackle her work as she drew to break the silence.

“*click*” everyone looked up “Art activity is over”

“Awwwwww” Harmony seemed disappointed “I didn’t get to finish”

“That’s alright Harmony, I’m sure you did good. Everyone, bring what you've made to the craft table. I want to see what you’ve made.” Mother said, taking this as an opportunity to let the fillies express themselves.

They each got up for the table, but most of recluded their work, holding it close and facing away from each other. Vie was the first to show hers.

“Ta-da! A perfect replica of the Facility” The walls were crooked, but the orientation of the rooms was accurate. “See? I bet it’s much better than yours” again, she pointed at Valed.

“I drew the sky from last night” Mother didn’t know how accurate that one was. Astronomy wasn't what she got her degree in.

“Those are wonderful fillies. Who wants to show next?” Vie was unsatisfied with the amount of attention she got and expressed it by dropping her paper on the table and plopping down into her seat with her hooves crossed; Mother ignored her though.

“I drew a race!” None of the fillies could see it well, and the expression on Mother's face showed she wasn't making much of it either.

“This looks great Sport, but, um… who’s racing?” she pointed out several blurs where characters should have been.

“I don’t know. They’re going so fast, you can’t see them.”

This made some of the fillies giggle.

“That’s very good, Sport. Anyone else want to show?”

“I do!!! I do I do I do I do I do” Fizz’s sculpture was already apparent to everypony there, but that didn’t stop Mother from expressing false surprise as Fizz held out a disfigured clump of warped shapes.

“It looks amazing Fizz... What is it?”

“Her name is Rose!”

“I see that.” Mother’s expression became one of both confusion and concern. “Who is Rose?

“She’s Rose.” Fizz simply pointed at the figurine, if you could call it that.

“I see that, but how do you know how to make a sculpture of Rose?” With little influence from things outside of the facility, Mother had reason to worry about where Fizz got her ideas.

“I didn’t, but now I do!” Fizz smiled proud. Mother shrugged the unique sculpture as whimsical imagination.

“Harmony, what did you paint?” Harmony looked at the painting she had facing away from us, and back at Mother; her eyes were pleading to not ask her to show. “It’s ok.” Mother tried to reassure.

Harmony slowly rotated her easel around revealing a swirling mix of colors and strokes; it was hard to believe she did that with only one brush.

“It’s beautiful Harmony! You should be proud.”

“but… I didn’t get to use any blue yet…” Harmony still looked disappointed in herself.

Meanwhile, Fins was busy carefully separating her canvas paper from the easel and patiently waiting her turn to show Mother.

“My turn! I didn’t make a mess this time, and I like what I ma…” unfortunately, Fins tripped over some carpeting and fell face first; onto her new painting. Vie and Sassy laughed at the paint smeared and sobbing filly as Mother quickly helped her up and cleaned her off with a few tissues she kept at hoof.

“I’m sorry, Mother. It was going to look wonderful.” Fins pointed at the now wrecked canvas as Mother dealt not only with washable water colors, but salty tears as well.

“Hey, its ok, its ok. You tried hard, and that’s what counts.” Mother kissed Fins on the cheek as her cries discontinued.

“Ok, who’s next? Flutter?” Flutters nervously ruffled her wings as she handed Mother her picture.

“I drew myself napping under a tree.”

“Awwww, it’s so cute.” Mother’s warm smile was enough for Flutters to be satisfied, no matter what criticism any of her sisters made.

“That’s nothing.” Sassy waved her picture for the whole room to see. The fragility of Flutter's confidence was making itself apparent again. Sassy had drawn what looked like a stallion’s face, only it looked like someone had polished the face off, leaving a smooth, sparkling blank oval.

“What is it?” they were all confused, eager, and dreading what it could be.

“It’s the back of Dr. Cerebald’s head!”

Dr. Cerebral was the facility psychologist, a pony deserving of great respect, even if he insisted that the young fillies all call him Max.

Anyways, the reason that this was their earliest memory was not because of the paintings, the stumbles, or the bad jokes, it was what happened later; the next morning when they got up.

Author's Note:

Doing some revamping. Please pardon the dust.