Believing Stories

by TypewriterError

For Your Own Good

She called out for her brother, running through the woods while the cacophony of voices continued to echo her cry under the new moon. The flashlight shook in her hand as scratches accumulated on her leather boots. She didn’t care. She had to find him. It was getting cold and he shouldn’t be out in the woods at night. She screamed for him again and pulled her sweater closer with her free hand before pushing a low-hanging branch out of the way. It cracked in her ear as the chorus of voices continued their dissonance.

She began to run. She had to find him. He could move quickly on his little legs. Why had he worn dark brown that day? Even his red hair wouldn’t show up against the fallen leaves. The beam of her flashlight fell on a white coat, stopping her. She raised the light to see a green clip-on tie leading up to the goatee on the thin face of Dr. Cruebel. His dark brown eyes almost faded into the night as he looked directly at her, as if waiting. What was he doing here?

“Dr. Cruebel?” She lowered the flashlight but kept the orange beam on his face. The chorus of voices blended into a shushing wind. His lips curled in a mocking sneer.

“Trust me,” he hissed before his hands shot out to cover her eyes. She reached up to pull his hand off but he was too strong. The flashlight made a dull thunk as it dropped into the leaf-strewn floor of the woods. She tried to claw at his hand but it stayed there. She couldn't move. Something held her stationary.

Isn’t it odd? She thought to herself, waking up with sweat-soaked covers wrapped tightly around her fever-sore body. Isn’t it odd that he would say I’m not ready to see pictures of myself? What danger could come from that?

Struggling against the covers, the baseball fell to the floor and she almost followed after it when her balance eluded her momentarily. However, she regained that balance in time. At least now her arms were free, though her legs were joined together and the sheet still hugged her waist a little too tightly.

Why did he look so scared at the desk? I know my past now so finding out wouldn’t bother me.

Is there something he hasn’t told me?

She pulled and twisted against the sheets, but nothing changed until she rolled a little to the side. Soon the rest of her was untangled. Her body ached but her mind was too alert to keep sleeping. She groaned, closing her eyes and arching her back as she stretched her arms out and behind her. After she was done she retrieved the baseball and moved to her usual spot on the floor.

THUMP-thump Th-thump

What could he be hiding? There was no reason for him to be so abrupt.

Her eyes glanced into the bathroom and she stopped herself from continuing the throwing cycle. What was a mirror doing there? She had never had a mirror before.

Her fingers stayed locked around the baseball as she rose and approached the bathroom. She flipped the light switch and cautiously approached. Perhaps he trusted her enough to see herself? Celeste shrank back.

See myself? How different am I from what I saw in those pictures? Am I still pretty?

She ran her fingers through her hair and stepped in view of herself.

Wild brown eyes stared at her, opened fully under orange-red eyebrows. She balked as her eyes met their reflections in the mirror. Her skin looked as if a white wax had been painted over it in a thin layer. Her copper and garnet hair lay almost flat against her skull with a few stray waves creating dissonance in the pattern of how her hair acted. Her spiderlike fingers traced the hollows of her cheeks as her thin, pale lips trembled. She was hideous. This wasn’t her and it couldn’t be her! Something had done this. Something was eating away at her, making her this ugly.

Why was the mirror here? Can’t I get rid of it somehow?

The baseball bounced off the silver surface as she struck it. Plastic. She couldn’t just break it. Her fingers clawed at the edges, trying to pry it off the wall. How long had it been here? How long had she been asleep? She hit the mirror again with her closed fist and gasped in pain.

Was this her room? Everything looked exactly the same within. She rushed from the bathroom to her window and looked outside. The view looked the same but might they just have moved her one room over in any direction? Why had they moved her? Was she still dangerous? Why was Sarah not allowed to see her? What was that “Tornado warning” really about?

“I’m perfectly sane, you know!” she shouted at the door.

Is my family really dead?

The thought chilled her. What if he had made that up? What if some of her family was still alive? They wanted to get her out but the doctors wouldn’t let them?

What if the doctors had made her crazy?

“Let me out of here!” she screeched to the ceiling. “I know what you’re doing! I am sane! You tricked me! You made me believe in Equestria... Let me out of here!”

No response. She just needed to make more noise.

She gripped the rails of her headboard and capsized the bed. No response. But they must have heard it. She grabbed the rails again and slammed the frame into the floor against the cold concrete. The frame left a grey smear and a small crack. She slammed it into the floor again, the ringing echoing in her arms.

The door finally flew open and Dr. Cruebel charged inside with Nurse Alice. The nurse stared at the bed while Dr. Cruebel merely glanced at it before looking at Celeste. He was visibly terrified.

“How... are you feeling, Celeste?” he stammered.

“What am I really doing here, Dr. Cruebel?”

“I don’t understand your question,” he lied.

“Is my family really dead? Or are you just keeping me here for another reason?”

“Celeste, you’re not thinking clearly. You’ve been ill for a few days now—”

“Answer my question!” she shrieked. Nurse Alice jumped.

“You were in a comatose state—“

“Why was I moved?”

“Moved?”

“This isn’t the room I was in yesterday. You moved me and I want to know why.”

“You... broke out of your old room. I don’t know how you did it, but we had to fix the lock—“

“I don’t believe you!”

“Celeste! Has something happened? Did you see something?”

“What is a mirror doing here?”

“Some rooms have mirrors. I thought you would be able to handle seeing yourself.”

“I’m not crazy!” Dr. Cruebel crossed over to her, cautiously.

“Celeste, I want you to take a deep breath—“

“Why am I like this?”

“You don’t normally look like this, not even here. You got sick from something a few days ago—”

As soon as he was in striking distance, her hand shot out and clawed his cheek, leaving three bleeding stripes there. After he gave a moment’s hesitation, Celeste found herself pinned to the floor. His one hand pressed against the space between her shoulder blades while his other hand bent her right arm up behind her back. She assailed their ears with her screaming.

Nurse Alice ran from the room. Celeste had to escape quickly. She might be able to throw him off but every movement brought more pain to her arm. She screamed again, her throat tearing from the sound.

“I want my family!”

“Celeste, listen to me!”

“I’m not crazy!”

“This isn’t going to help you.”

Nurse Alice entered again, carrying some white shirt-like thing with trailing leather straps. The nurse disappeared from view and something covered Celeste’s right hand while grabbed her wrist, forcing her to wear a sort of sleeve. She tried to push her hands out but the sleeves were sewn shut. The nurse collapsed to her knees next to Celeste’s head. Celeste pulled against Dr. Cruebel’s grip, snarling in her effort. The nurse knelt on her unheld arm and pulled her shoulder back, quickly wrestling the jacket across Celeste’s thin body. Dr. Cruebel grabbed the sleeve and pulled, bending the arm in his control to enter it against the owner’s will. Despite her twisting, the sound of a zipper passed up her back.

“Grab her arm, like I told you,” Dr. Cruebel said with a grunt. The nurse grabbed her left wrist and twisted it to a more comfortable position of reach out instead of behind, except that it was moved without Celeste’s consent.

“Get off me!” she wailed.

“One. Two...”

Celeste was forced to sit up, with Dr. Cruebel’s arms locked around her shoulders. The nurse crossed Celeste’s left arm across her body and over her right. Dr. Cruebel’s hands pushed down Celeste’s arms, forcing her right arm to cross even farther under the left so she hugged herself. The metal buckle of the straightjacket clattered and rang against the floor. Dr. Cruebel constrained her against him with his right arm as his left arm grabbed for the buckle, pulling her arm as far as it could physically go.

“Reach in and buckle it. I can’t hold her like this for long.”

“You’re hurting me!”

“Trust me. This is—”

Her piercing scream cut him off but he held firm. The nurse fumbled behind Celeste and fastened the buckle. A lock clicked. Celeste arched her back and screamed her throat raw. Dr. Cruebel finally let go of her, his clip on tie falling to the floor. In an instant she tasted silk and choked. He used his own tie to gag her.

“Get a sedative,” he commanded and Nurse Alice disappeared again.

“Get off me!” she shouted as much as she could through the gag.

“This is for your own good.”

“I want my photo album!”

“Think about what you’re doing...”

“I’m not crazy!”

Nurse Alice entered and Celeste kicked as much as possible. She could barely move under the weight of Dr. Cruebel pinning her against his chest again. A hand grabbed her ankle, holding it still. A needle slid into her skin and tingling moved from the point of entry until it dissolved into her bloodstream. Her body went limp before her mind. She felt Dr. Cruebel roll her over onto her back. What was he doing?

Perhaps he is going to kill me.

His arms wrapped around her shoulders and under her useless legs. She felt herself being lifted before the black fog rolled farther into her mind. Where was he taking her? She heard his rushed footsteps as he stepped through a doorway. She could feel it pass over them. As soon as he turned right the darkness overtook her mind, locking her consciousness in black.

She was still hugging herself. Everything she touched was soft. She blinked her sore eyes opened. She groaned and stretched her neck, feeling the sweat of her fever dampen her clothes. Movement brought her head to look towards a closing door.

“Hey!” she called as it latched shut. She looked around frantically at the bare walls and floor. They had put her into a padded room. Her eyes darted frantically, looking for an escape that wasn’t there. Her heart beat in her ears. She tried to stand but only stumbled on legs that were still numb. She looked up at the ceiling as she lay on her side. With some wiggling and grunting, she was seated again, looking at the room for anything that could help her.

“Hello!” she called, knowing her call was useless.

“Hello again...” Sombra’s voice slithered up her spine. With trepidation, she turned her eyes to look into his black ones.

Her lips tried to respond, but no sound came.

Comments

[The Thoughtful]

Well. This reaction will be interesting, after her previous experiences.

[FangPrincess]

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!

[DaFunkySquirrel]

Goddammit.

[TheAspiringWriter93]

After going back and re-reading most of the story, I only now understand that you re-wrote most of it (omitting the part about Twilight and Ditzy Doo rescuing her).

I was confused, as I thought I missed a major part of the story, but now I find that this isn't the case, and I can read with gusto once again.

On that same note, I'm seriously liking where the story is going. Sombra is a very nice wildcard thrown into the deck of crazy, and the description of Celestia's past as an Alicorn and her subsequent acceptance of the persona "Celeste" was very well worded. All in all, this line of thought is much better than the previous one (not that previous one wasn't good, but this one is better). Keep up the good work, mate.

[TypewriterError]

2388379 Thank you :)

Yeah, I realized that Twilight bringing Derpy just didn't make sense no matter how much I like her. Sorry about the confusion and I'm glad to see you're enjoying the story.

[paintsplatter125]

One of my favorites, a work of genious!
Totally gonna be keeping an eye on this!

[FlimFlamBros.]

I don't see how she can fight something like Sombra with an actual personality. If he's just a figment of her imagination then she's crazier than a coo-coo bird addicted to coco puff. And if she's real then she has no way of fighting him.

Unless a third party steps in, Celestia/Celeste is proper fucked...

[Rest]

I don't understand this at all.

[DarthMaul22]

So, is her mind swinging back and forth about which world is real simply slower in this version? Because I'm waiting for the bit that pushes her back to 'Equestria is real'.

[Nyerguds]

Ahh. She totally breaks down, now.

Another correction:
> Her piercing scream cut him off but her held firm.
"but [he] held firm."