Behind Him

by ExplosionMare

Safety Measures

Granite was starving when he woke up.

“I can’t believe I went all day yesterday without eating anything!” he exclaimed.

Honestly, he knew skipping a day’s worth of meals wasn’t so bad as far as nutrition went. What he was really worried about is how a slip up like that could affect him long term. If he forgot one day, how could he trust himself to remember the next? He’d shrivel up like an unwatered flower out in the heat if he wasn’t careful.

Granite knew worrying over such things was unhealthy for him, but he had no choice. It was his only line of defense against Thorns when a pill couldn’t stall him. Thorns behaved like a trip wire. If Granite were to set him off, even if it was in the smallest way, the outcome would always be devastating. Something as simple as forgetting to eat could mean Granite was losing control.

Granite sprung up from his mattress and scurried to the kitchen. He poured himself a small bowl of cereal and grabbed an apple from the fridge. He wanted to slice it into the cereal, despite how risky it was.

Why do I even have kitchen knives if I never get to use them? Granite pondered.

Close the curtains. Pull out a knife. Let red sift through you. Thorns indicated.

Granite let out a small sigh. Resisting the use of a knife was almost worse than actually using one. Resistance provoked a stronger temptation.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he said reluctantly, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He let out a quiet growl in annoyance. Slowly but firmly, Granite slid the drawer open containing the knives.

He plucked a small one out and set it on the counter. He then bent down to the bottom cabinet to retrieve a small wooden cutting board. He set it on top of the counter along with the knife. He then grabbed the apple and set in in the middle of the cutting board. Once everything was prepped, Granite took a long, deep breath before carrying out his task.

He gripped the apple with his right hoof to steady it and grabbed the small knife with his left hoof. He dragged the knife across the counter, scraping the hardwood surface. Granite worried dragging it any further would scratch the surface, so he lifted it a couple of centimeters higher and brought it closer to himself. Eventually, the blades touched the apple and Granite started slicing.

Granite glanced back at Thorns several times, watching him to see if he would respond to the situation. Thorns remained at a perfect standstill during each new apple slice. The silence made Granite feel threatened, causing him to turn back so frequently that he started turning while chopping the apple. Once while he was not looking he nearly sliced into his right hoof.

Sweat began to trickle down Granite’s forehead as he finished chopping the last of the apple. The sweat dripped down towards his hooves, slowing the cutting process. He would not let that stop him, however. He became hyper focused on the apple and did not turn around. He could see Thorns’ eyes glowing with a greater intensity through his peripherals, but did not stop to observe them. He had a task to complete and he was going to finish it.

Thankfully, after one last motion, the apple was completely sliced. Granite scooped up the apple slices and arranged them precisely into his cereal, creating a ring inside the bowl. Happy with the results, Granite took a moment to breathe then set himself down on his dining chair.

---

Granite finished his breakfast and stared out the window in a daze. He let his mind wander into a state of nothingness whilst his eyes focused on the events outside. For a brief moment, he was at peace. The soothing sound of the wind followed by the soft rustling of leaves rushed through Granite’s ears, filling them with serenity. The wavy green grass covering the lawn and the intricately rough textures of the trees gave his mind focus and clarity. Observing the outlines of nature’s work filled the gaps in his mind with solitary enrichment.

He looked down at his Cutie Mark, a simple red rose, and was reminded of one of his favorite memories: his first time gardening. He smiled as he began to reminisce.

---

Granite had finally come home. There were flowers outside and a field of soil. The air smelled pleasant, almost sweet. Granite’s mom said the flowers were his, and he got to plant them. When he picked them up he could see the colors streaming from the petals. Red, yellow, and white. They were just as lovely as the flowers’ lively green stems. As Granite planted them, he could feel the smooth and soft soil beneath his hooves. He gently watered the flowers, noticing the soft spray of water sounded like raindrops falling.

He stepped back, admiring his work. He felt proud of taking care of such small, delicate things. The next thing he knew, his flank had emitted a blinding light. His Cutie Mark had appeared, a simple red rose shining proudly.

Granite discovered his talent. His parents danced and cheered enthusiastically. He could just taste the vegetable fritters he was about to eat as his parents proposed a celebratory dinner.

---

The memory reminded Granite Rose that he needed to go over his list of clients and set up his outdoor shop. The shop was something new to him, but the clients he had had for two years, so it was important to prioritize them first.

Granite got up and deposited his bowl into the sink, along with the knife. He exited the kitchen and headed towards the small closet in his living room.

Granite turned the closet’s door handle and pulled it slowly towards himself, backing up as he did. He stood up and reached over a high shelf. He patted the shelf until he located a medium-sized folder. He trotted back towards the kitchen, setting it down. Methodically, he took out each individual file and studied them carefully.

Granite reviewed all of his clients and saw that he was needed in Canterlot in two weeks and Fillydelphia in three weeks. The trips were not for a while so they gave Granite time to both visit Pencil on occasion and focus on his small flower business.

“Got the trips in my calendar, now I just need to set up my shop!” Granite said to himself.

---

Before he began sales, Granite delicately planted each flower into their respective rectangular pots. He arranged the pots in a 3x3 pattern just below a wooden sign that read:

Stone Cut Garden

Flowers— 2 bits per stem

Bouquets— 15 bits

Satisfied with the setup, Granite looked out past the horizon for customers.

Go back inside. Keep yourself hidden. Use the knife. Thorns convicted in a more explicit tone than normal.

You’re not the pony I wanted to see Granite mentally retorted.

---

A week had passed, and Granite had made a considerable amount of money. He had also earned a new client during a run-in with a tourist from Dodge Junction. Granite couldn’t help but smile at the outcomes. His job was not only giving him fulfillment, it was proving to be successful, too. He was also proving to his parents that he was making good use of his independence.

“I gotta tell Pencil about this! She’s gonna love hearing about this! I should write about it to my parents too now that I think about it...” Granite Rose exclaimed.

Run inside. Lock the doors. Rip through your hide. Thorns demanded, lacing his words with intolerance.

Granite shuddered at his commands. He wasn’t usually this...direct. He would always suggest cutting in a delicate manner, not through force. It was like a parent telling their child to clean their room. They had to do it for the parent’s sake rather than the child’s, and if they disobeyed, they would be punished. What Granite could possibly be in trouble for, he had no idea.

“Am I in trouble, Thorns?” he hesitantly asked.

The word “her” echoed through Granite’s mind. He looked down and sighed, knowing Thorns meant Pencil Pouch. He couldn’t help talking to her—they had been friends since their foalhood.

“I won’t talk about you to her this time,” Granite offered, hoping that would put Thorns at ease.

Thorns nodded slightly. Granite nearly jumped out of surprise, not expecting such a quick agreement. His surprise was short-lived, however, once he noticed Thorns’ head turned towards the kitchen.

Granite knew exactly what he was looking at. All he could do was plead with Thorns, emphasizing his desperation with big eyes and a small frown. Thorns responded with an annoyed but calm expression.

The word “talk” reverberated through Granite’s brain. Granite hated the idea of continual conversation with him, but it was manageable. If Thorns was going to keep tabs on Granite, Granite might as well keep tabs on Thorns.

“Alright, we’ll talk. I’ll be careful when I see Pencil,” Granite agreed.

---

A light knock sounded at the end of the hall. Pencil Pouch smiled, set down her art materials she was using, and answered the door. She was met with the familiar kind face of a certain grey pony.

“Hi, Granite!” she exclaimed.

“Hi, Pencil. I brought you some flowers. I thought you’d like to draw them,” Granite replied.

“Aww, thanks! Wow, they’re really pretty!” she beamed.

Pencil gave the bouquet a closer look and marveled over the colorful array of tulips and lilies arranged in groups. She adored the intricate speckles on the insides of the petals and the fine vein lines around the stems. Pencil was going to have a lot of fun drawing these.

The flowers reminded Pencil of something she planned to ask Granite. Snapping herself out of her trance, she asked,

“So, how’s your garden business going?”

“I’ll tell you when we get inside,” Granite replied, gesturing towards the living room.

“Okay!” Pencil chirped.

---

“Wow, that’s great! You’re getting business already!” Pencil cheered.

“Yeah! I’m really excited about my new clients, too! It’s funny to say, but I like to travel,” Granite replied.

“I wouldn’t blame you for liking that. There’s really not that much to do here in Sire’s Hollow,” Pencil stated bluntly.

“Yeah,” Granite murmured, staring off into the distance. He took the opportunity to look around for Thorns, who was standing behind the couch Granite and Pencil were sitting on. Granite switched his gaze from Pencil to Thorns rapidly, keeping an eye on them both.

Thorns had tilted his head in Pencil’s direction, staring scrutinizingly. Granite grew extremely uncomfortable the longer he stared.

Don’t! he pleaded mentally, hoping Thorns would stop freaking him out.

“What’s wrong?” Pencil asked with a concerned look on her face. Granite snapped back into reality, focusing on the mare in front of him.

“I’m okay,” Granite replied, hoping his answer was convincing.

Pencil must have realized what was going on because she had only nodded sympathetically. Granite relaxed, feeling very grateful for a friend who was so understanding. She wasn’t going to exploit him.

Thorns, by the way he was now looking at Granite, seemed unconvinced. Knowing he would have to do this sooner or later, Granite transmitted,

I won’t tell her anything. She doesn’t even know we’re doing this

The word “proof” came back in reply. Granite took a shaky breath, his discomfort increasing. Apprehensively, he responded,

What is there to prove? You know she can’t even see you let alone understand our conversations

Thorns barely titled his head in an attempt to point out Pencil Pouch. Granite comprehended that he wanted him to watch her for anything suspicious. It could be the way she talked or even the way she looked at Granite. Anything even a tiny bit disconcerting could mean she knew more than she was letting on.

As Granite observed her, Pencil’s irises began to shrink drastically. She lurched back and scooted back from her original position on the couch. Granite could not fathom why she was acting so strange, so he continued to examine her.

“What?” she shrieked. “Why are you doing that? Please stop!”

Granite jumped at the level of fear arising from his friend. She had never reacted in such a way before. Perhaps he had made it too obvious that he was watching her. Granite felt immediately shameful.

“I-I was just listening to what you had to say,” he lied.

Pencil seemed satisfied with that answer, although her concern had not faded completely. She kept her worries concealed, knowing how dangerous they could be in this type of situation. Pencil sat upright and began talking, hoping to continue a normal conversation.

“So, um, I heard the town committee is planning on building a shopping mall in the center of town. Did you know about that?”

“I think I heard about it,”

“Yeah, uh, it’s going to be like those ‘big city’ malls, but with a historical twist,”

“How are they going to do that?”

“Oh, well, it’ll be like a normal mall but with small ‘museum stores’,”

“That’s good, trying to stick to their roots. Reminds me of my hometown,”

“How are your parents, by the way? Are they taking the whole ‘moving out’ thing well?”

“They’re proud that I was able to move out and be successful. How is your family?”

“They’re doing alright. I miss my sister, but sometimes we write to each other. She told me she’s working for an arcade programming company! It’s really cool!”

“That’s neat,”

Pencil felt obligated to mention one last thing, but she decided to hold it back. A pit grew at the bottom of her stomach. She really wanted to know how Granite was feeling—truly feeling—but she didn’t have it in her to ask. She did not want Granite to have an episode again, not after he tried so hard to prevent the last one.

Granite saw a sudden shift in Pencil’s behavior. She had gone from chatty and happy to quiet and anxious. Was something wrong?

Escape this house. Leave no trace. Resurrect your wounds. Thorns imposed.

Just give me one more second, please! he pleaded with Thorns.

Thorns had made up his mind. His scowl made it clear he felt Granite had been over at Pencil’s house long enough.

“Uh...bye, Pencil! I-I need to get b-back to the house! It’s g-getting late!” Granite stuttered, straining to keep the fear out of his voice.

With a forlorn nod, Pencil replied,

“Sure, of course. Goodnight! See you later!”

“...See you!” Granite responded. Hanging out with Pencil was getting increasingly more tricky, but perhaps if he continued to take precautions, he could convince Thorns to let him stay over again.

---

Pencil had her mind set on her latest commission, but was constantly diverted by thoughts of the time she spent with Granite. She knew she couldn’t pry too much given how testy Thorns was, but she felt as if she had done nothing. She felt helpless, like what she was doing, despite doing what her friend often suggested, was just not enough.

How is pretending I don’t notice anything helping him? He could be going through something really horrible right now and I’m just letting it happen! Pencil thought in frustration. Pencil’s inner anger projected into her outer expressions, causing her to fling the pen she was using across the room. She was embarrassed over her childish behavior but decided to let it go seeing as she had more pressing issues to worry about.

“If I want to help Granite, I can’t be scared to talk to him. I won’t let him face Thorns by himself,” Pencil declared with a newfound determination in her voice.

She began with a letter.

---

Granite, after putting what was left of his gardening tools away, plopped himself on his dining chair and let out a tired sigh. He was mentally exhausted. He was supposed to calculate his profits tonight, but in the state he was in, he would just have to do it in the morning.

Get up. Find a knife. Expose your flesh. Thorns commanded, urging Granite to find the strength to get up and complete the task.

Granite was admittedly grateful for the push Thorns gave him, just not eager to go through with malicious plans. Seeing as he had no choice in the matter anyways, Granite got up and trudged towards the kitchen sink, shaking the fatigue from his body. When he arrived, he felt as if he had teleported, the memory of walking towards the kitchen completely faded.

Looking down, he noticed a familiar utensil lying lazily in the middle of the sink, unwashed. Granite could still make out small apple pieces in the blades.

Reaching towards the faucet, he turned the knob to the right clockwise, letting a soft stream of cold water dowse the utensil’s exterior. He watched as the small apple fragments slid down the drain along with a thin stream of juice. The cleanliness of the blade gave Granite a sense of clarity and purity. If this knife could so easily have a fresh start, he, too, could have one as soon as he had a good night’s sleep.

Take the knife. Isolate yourself. Sever pain from your body. Thorns instructed.

Granite knew he wouldn’t make it out of this so easily. Thorns had a grip on him and he wouldn’t let go for anything. Granite knew he could not resist the pull, no matter how hard he tugged. Granite took in a sharp gulp, regretting what he was about to say.

“If I take this with me, will you leave me alone afterwards?” he muttered.

Thorns’ faced softened. Granite could only interpret this as a yes. Tenderly, he reached into the sink and took out the knife. He cradled it so as not to poke himself with the blade. He brought it carefully with him across the kitchen, making his ways towards his room.

Once he was there, he tightened his grip on the knife’s handle. He had to be extra careful with it to ensure he wouldn’t drop it. He lowered the knife, going slower and slower the closer he got to his nightstand. When it had finally reached the nightstand, he set the knife down next to his bottle of pills.

“There. This will be here with me,” Granite reassured Thorns.

The knife brought no comfort to Granite at all, but it made Thorns feel trusted.

“No promises,” Granite told Thorns.

Grab the knife. Lock yourself up. Let pain—

“Goodnight, Thorns!” Granite yelled before hastily shutting his lights off. He crawled into bed and buried his face in his covers as quickly as he could. He had had enough of that demon for one day.