The Cinch Chronicles

by TheWingman

Chapter 1: Lamentation

*Knock Knock Knock*

Cinch was startled from her file organizing assignment by the noise. Looking towards the door, she saw Cadence walking into the office. Seeing her didn't fill her with anger but a sense of regret instead.

“Abacus, how goes the filing?” Cadence asked. Briefly snapping her view back towards the cabinet, Cinch put a few more files within before closing it.

“Well, I've just wrapped it up.” She said with a sigh. “To be honest, it was a bit of a daily thing for me a few years back.” As Cinch sat down, she wore a long face, like one of remorse and shame.

“Is everything alright?”

“*Sigh* Well, I would say yes but I guess my face would betray that.” Right away, Cadence knew what troubled her. In fact, she had been keeping an eye on her behavior, as per the school district's orders. Cadence noted that while made Cinch had made excellent progress, she was constantly wracked by depression from her past deeds.

“Then again, it's no secret that you regret what you did. It tells me that you're willing to change… and I already see that you have.”

“I know, I do try my best not to repeat any mistakes if I can help it. But, I honestly don't think I deserve the mercy you and your friends at Canterlot High championed for… especially after what I did with her.”

“Abacus,” Cadence said, taking a seat next to her. “Though we’ve been coworkers, I considered you a friend even before Twilight’s brother married me. Though what you did was horrible, I would assume that you had no idea of how bad it was going to get.”

“You’re right. If I knew that the magic or whatever it was that I goaded Ms. Sparkle into using would be so unruly, I would’ve never remotely considered that an option. But, admittedly, concerns about reputation and success clouded my judgment.”

“I know that it's easy to feel so down on yourself in a situation like yours.” Said Cadence, putting a hand on Cinch's shoulder. “People make mistakes, we all do. No one is perfect and that's what makes us human, our ability to learn to from any mishap. You just have to let go to start anew. Even though you fell so far down, you can always find your way back up. Even then, I forgive you for what you did to Twilight.”

Cinch couldn't help but grin at her friend's statement. Despite her having taken her old job, Cinch never held a grudge towards Cadence. In fact, she found Cadence to be doing an admirable job by her old standards. Still, Cinch knew she had a long way to go while reinventing herself, even if it meant that some may never forgive her for her actions.

“You really do have a lot of faith in me to go above and beyond. But anyways, is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes, there is.” Cadence got up from her seat. “Can you help me with the weekend lock up? If you take the west wing, I'll take the east.”

“Heh, wanting to start the weekend early I see.”

“Yeah, I just figured we cover more ground that way.”

“Hmmm, fair enough.” Taking her set of keys and splitting up, both Cadence and Cinch took to their agreed upon areas, locking up any and all doors they could find. As Cinch went about her task, she looked back on her brighter years, where she desired getting a job in education. Even then, her mind drifted towards the question: “Where did I go wrong?”. She tried remembering the part of her past that turned her heart colder than ice. Each and every time, it ended in sorrow. She enjoyed her old job yet her pride had been its downfall. There was something that motivated her to stoop so low for her job. It was the fear of failure.

As Cinch inched towards the empty cafeteria, her ears caught the soft sounds of sniffling and gasping. As she grew closer the corner of her eyes caught sight of the source: a student with a sharp object in his hand. Just as she turned her focus to the scene, the student had plunged the object into his arm, grunting in pain. In that second, something clicked in Cinch, something that she could never forget. It was a face she’d seen before, so long ago.

Spurred by a brief flash of memory, Cinch rushed to the student’s side and struggled to disarm him. Due to the his weakened state, it didn’t take Cinch very long to do so but the damage was already done. The cut was deep enough to bleed heavily but not long enough to gush badly.

“If there was anything my aunt shared with me from her experiences as a nurse, applied pressure to a wound usually stops the bleeding.” Without an extra thought, she pulled out her handkerchief and used it as a tourniquet. Though she was going to ruin it, she didn’t care in the slightest.

“Cadence, I need you here at the Cafeteria! There’s an emergency!” Cinch said over her radio with haste.

“What’s going on?”

“A student hurt himself with a knife! Call 911 and get down here! Hurry! He's bleeding pretty badly!” Cinch then turned her view back to the student, still in shock and in tears. If it were any other situation, she would’ve scolded whoever was holding such an object on campus. However, she could see the fear in his eyes. Though some of it could be from her presence, Cinch felt that most of the pain stemmed from somewhere else, somewhere that was, in a sense, familiar to her. In the young man’s whispered cries for help, she made out two words:

Mother…

Father…

“Cinch, what in the world is goi-” Cadence had arrived and no sooner than she poked her head into the room did she see what Cinch had mentioned over the radio. “Good Lord! How bad is it?!”

“Pretty bad.” Cinch said, pressing the makeshift tourniquet on the man's arm. “I'm trying as much as I can to stop the bleeding. Where's the ambulance?”

“About few minutes out. We should get him outside for whe-”

“No.” Cinch interrupted. “It wouldn't be a good idea. We have to keep him here and conscious. Trust me, my aunt dealt with cases like this before.”

Looking back at the student, Cinch became stricken with an emotion that felt new, yet was familiar… empathy, something she hadn’t experienced since her youth. Feeling it for the first time in ages made her mind briefly drift to memories of a happier time, a time she yearned for.

“Calm down,” She said in a strangely reassuring tone. “You’ll be alright. I need you to stay conscious.” As the student’s breathing started increasing in pace, his head began to lean back, prompting Cinch to use her free hand to support his head and allowing him to squeeze her hand with what little strength he had. “Focus on me. Focus. On. Me.”

Then, the faint sound of sirens filled the air as Cadence noticed an ambulance pulling up in the parking lot. Through the doors burst a trio of paramedics, accompanied by a stretcher. Seeing the scene before them, they wasted no time in getting the student into the ambulance while supplying him with air as he began to slip out of conscious. The paramedics sped off with utmost haste and all Cinch and Cadence could do was hope that he would pull through.

---

15 Minutes Later

---

As she paced around her’s and Cadence’s office, a myriad of questions floated around Cinch’s head: Why, What, and Who. She saw him before but never remembered his name but deduced that he was one of the quiet ones that usually kept to themselves for one reason or another. But even then, if any student had felt suicidal, any faculty member with a sharp eye would know from even the more subtle signs. Still, the flash of memory kept coming back, never once leaving her in peace.

“Abacus,” Cadence said, exiting the filing closet. “I was able to find out who that kid was. He looked familiar so it didn’t really take me too long to find his file.”

“Thank you,” Cinch sighed. “So, who was he?” Cadence cleared her throat.

“His name is Quill Fable. Grade level: Senior. Other than his academic marks being slightly above the average scores here, his teachers noted that he never talks during class, even when asked a question. Even during lunch time, he exhibits the same sort of reclusive behaviour.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, his enrollment documentation lists only a single legal guardian by the name of Smokestack, presumably his uncle. Thankfully, we have his contact information. So, we'll call him in a few.” Cadence sat down and sighed, rubbing her head “I still can't believe that happened.”

“Well,” Cinch sighed. “The thing about suicide is that… it does the most damage to those around him, whether they were close to him or not. No matter how much we mentally brace ourselves, it’ll always be a shock about how one would think of taking their own life.” Cinch then motioned to a shelf, adorned with varying trinkets she owned. However, one such memento caught her eye: A baseball. Stunned, she sighed at the sight of the ball, remembering it from one of her fondest memories. She took it in her hand, tearing up as she bounced it in her grasp. “And sometimes, the ones we’re powerless to do anything about is what hurts us the most.”

“How long has it been?” Cadence asked. She would often hear Cinch tell the story behind the ball and the significance it held. It was happy memory and one that she held close to her heart.

“Nearly 20 years.” Whispered Cinch with pain in her voice.

“Have you been able to come to terms with… you know?”

“I try many times. But…

“I… I just don’t know.”

Author's Note:

Here it is. It's been something of a passion project for me since I watched Friendship Games. I felt as though Cinch could use some backstory. There's more to come. Stay tuned.

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