• Published 12th Aug 2012
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The Piano Man: Act II - The Sentient Cloud



The Piano Man is free, but must now recover from his captivity and adjust to life in Equestria.

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Midnight Musings

WARNING: The following chapter contains a possibly offensive scene regarding suicide-by-hanging. Please keep in mind that it is meant as part of the narrative, and nothing else. The author means no offense by its inclusion in the story.


My legs flail around beneath me as I struggle, the movements sending my form swaying around in a wild circle.

The wire digs into my throat, bruising it as I struggle for oxygen. Try as I might, I am unable to drag even a wisp of air through my constricted throat.

My mouth opens to scream, although the only sound that manages to escape my lungs is a weak gurgling – The sound of a dying man.

My legs continue to lash out in all directions, searching vainly for a standing-surface that I know isn’t there, while my hands tug vainly at the piano wire wrapped around my neck. There’s no grip to be found.

My vision is starting to dim as the lack of oxygen begins to take effect, and my brain enters the first stages of shutting down.

I never should have done this.

What I’ve become is little better than an animal. I’ve become a depraved human being, driven to the edge by the apathy of those around me. My life has been stripped of any meaning. To say that I all I have left is the piano is a lie, because the piano is not mine. The piano is Trixie’s. It belongs to her – Just like me.

I am a man ending his existence by the only means available to him. I am twenty years of life born through a marvel of science and biology, being snuffed out by a length of ultra-thin steel.

I am both a coward, and the embodiment of bravery. I am a man that cannot face his situation – A man that cannot bring himself to live any longer in the hell his existence has become, and has chosen to engage in the ultimate act of cowardice.

And yet at the same time, I am a man who managed so summon up the bravery and courage to do the unthinkable. To strip myself of that which can never be returned. To say that what I’ve done is cowardly is incorrect. You cannot imagine just how much courage and conviction it takes to act on such thoughts.

What I’ve done… is something I never thought I would have the courage or the need to do.

My legs have stopped flailing by now. I no longer have the energy or the conviction to continue my struggle. I’ve done this, and no matter how much I struggle against it, it has begun, and I cannot stop it.

At least it doesn’t hurt anymore. The final moments are actually rather blissful, containing nothing but the sleepy acknowledgement that everything’s about to end. It’s the one moment in my life where I don’t have anything to worry about. I can just enjoy my last few seconds as myself, with nothing to stop me being just that.

Maybe this is what Sara meant. The end itself truly doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. The end is quite nice. It’s warm, and soft. I suppose for many – myself included – it’s those two aspects that draws us in, and makes us stop struggling. A little bit of comfort right before it all goes black.

I miss her. Why did she do it? We all thought she was happy. She certainly seemed happy – A very cheery individual. Like all of use she had her ups and her downs, but what could have driven her to it?

Any second now, Trixie’s going to ruin everything. She’ll cut me down, and I will fall. I’ll slam my crooked nose into the floor, and I will fall unconscious. Trixie will ‘save’ me from my final freedom – from my final happiness.

It barely registers in my drowsy mind when there’s no bang, no shout and no rescue.

I’m beyond caring. What I’ve done is the stupidest thing a human could ever do, but I’m well past the point where stupidity is relevant.

In fact, right before everything slips away, I only have one thought.

I miss Sara.

***

The floor rushes up to meet me as I roll out of bed, its hard surface meeting the side of my face with as much yield as a brick wall.

I take a ragged gasp as I drag air into my lungs, ignoring the pain my meeting with the floor has caused.

My hands find their way to my throat, grasping at it to check for a length of piano wire that was never there, while I let out a pained groan.

I cough, rolling away from my bed and tearing my hands from my throat. I wasn’t crying in my sleep, but I am now.

“Fuck!” I exclaim in shock, reaching out aggressively and grasping my bedside table.

I haven’t had that one before. Before now, my mind hadn’t forced me to live through that pain again.

It’s far worse than the other dream. In the other, my hair is burning. That’s nothing compared to being forced to experience the entire process of hanging all the way to the end.

Slowly, I push myself up off the floor, using the table for support. I can’t see a thing, as the room is pitch-black.

I take another deep gasp of air, savouring the feeling of it rushing through my windpipe. At the same time, I manage to let out a little choked sob. I’m carrying so much mental baggage right now, and it’s probably going to be tethered to me for quite a while.

I snatch my cane aggressively from where I know it to be resting and turn around.

There are only two almost imperceptible sources of light in my room, neither of them managing to provide any illumination. One is the faintly luminescent display of the clock on the wall – which claims that it is eleven forty-seven. Judging by the darkness, I’d say that it's night.

The other source of light is a very faint amount slipping in under my door. The halls are never fully dark here, as they have low-power ‘walk-lights’ at night.

I wipe at my nose, which produces a wet trail of snot on the back of my hand.

I curse in disgust – and promptly wipe it on my pants. I have standards, and would never even consider doing it in any other situation, but right now I could care less.

Letting out another sobbing-hiccup, I hobble over to my door, before feeling around for the knob and opening it.

I need a walk.

The hall outside is indeed darkened, with the only illumination coming from the small strips in the floor, and some ultra-low lighting above. Overall, I can see as well as I would see on a clear night with a half-crescent moon. Okay, but not great.

So, I was right in thinking that I wouldn’t be able to sleep all the way until morning. That would be at least a full seventeen hours.

That said, I have managed to sleep for a grand total of eleven and a half hours. I don’t think I’ve ever managed to sleep that much at once.

I shuffle down the hall, headed towards the stairwell – which is always well-lit. They are stairs, after all.

If I had wanted light, I could have just stayed in my room and turned on the lamp – but right now I feel amazingly restless – and more than a little disturbed. I have just experienced an unbelievably vivid dream, reminding me that I nearly succeeded in killing myself.

I nearly ended my own life – and Trixie was on the verge of doing it herself after the Gala. To say I finally got a lucky break is an understatement. In the one short period of calm between me trying to off-myself, and Trixie euthanizing for being a worn-out asset, I managed to somehow free myself.

There were so many other ways this could have turned out. Anyone could have died as a result of that day, be it me, Trixie, Twilight, Rarirty or Cadance. Instead, we managed to reach the best possible conclusion. Admittedly, I would be much happier if I had managed to kill Trixie… but then I would probably be charged with ponyslaughter.

I can see light around the next corner, which pleases me. A walk to clear my head, and the comfort of light. Nothing provides a human with more confidence than the presence of light – well, except for booze, I suppose.

Hurrying my hobbled pace, I quickly shuffle around the corner, treating myself to a view of the properly lit stairwell. It doesn’t stop me from releasing another hiccup-sob, but those are getting less aggressive, and I’m managing to keep them rather quiet.

I rub at my eyes as I enter the brightly lit space. I don’t do it so much because of how bright it is, but more to wipe the moisture from my eyes.

To think that one mare caused all of this. Three weeks of torture and pain, and what will most likely be months – if not years – of psychological torment. That one bitch managed to fuck up my life more thoroughly than a precision nuke-strike, because the nuke strike would have just killed me.

I’m so frail. I certainly don’t look like who I once was. My face may have the same characteristics, and my general personality may be unchanged, but my body looks like it belongs to someone else – someone from the most impoverished region of Africa.

It’s so thin, and feeble. To think that I lost close to fifty pounds in two weeks. I still don’t know what that means in metric terms, but it certainly sounds like a lot.

With a little groan, I turn around and sit down on the bottom step of the flight leading up to the next floor. Not counting the ground floor, there are three stories to this building. I happen to be on level two. I’ve never been up to level three, nor have I properly explored the level one or the ground floor, but I gather that they are all much the same.

I peer out into the darkness of the hallway. With my eyes now adjusted to the high light-level of the stairwell, the rest of the building might as well be pitch-black.

It’s funny that throughout my entire ordeal, I always had light. There was always that strange candle above my cage that cast its odd light that never flickered, despite the fact that it was coming form a candle.

I never had to put up with the uncertainty and fear associated with darkness – in fact, at one point I was the one creating and capitalising on it. That was probably the most satisfying moment I experienced during my entire captivity.

I probably shouldn’t be thinking about my captivity. It’s making me feel a little claustrophobic, which in turn makes me want to go outside.

I could go back to my room and go out on the balcony. That’d be quite nice… or, I could just head upstairs. I’ve definitely never been up to the roof before, and I am already at the stairwell.

A short trip up to the roof it is then. It’ll be a nice harmless adventure to tire me out so that I can go back to sleep. Maybe the door will be locked – in which case, I’ll simply be getting a bit of exercise, which is fine by me.

With the help of my trusty cane – and a considerable amount of groaning – I climb back to my feet, and turn around once more.

Climbing the stairs is neither particularly easy nor overly physically demanding, but it takes a while. I just need to make sure I place my cane in the right position so that I can use it as leverage to climb each step.

It’s for that reason that it takes me a good ten minutes to climb up past level three to the door onto the roof, and I am left red-faced and panting by the – frankly – moderate exertions. I suppose it’s just more testimony to the fact that I have a long way to go before I’m back to any notably good condition.

It is to my surprise that the large red door leading out into the night air is not locked, and in fact opens very easily. It isn’t even heavy, as security doors really should be.

Then again, it wouldn’t matter if the security door was heavy or not. Pegasai can get onto the roof anyway, a unicorn can open the door no matter what its weight is, and you’d be hard pressed to find an earth pony that couldn’t buck a door open.

That’s a good question to ask Twilight: How does Equestria handle security? How do they stop unicorns from randomly invading homes with their magic? There’s so much for me to learn. And entire new culture to study – and one that is very similar to my own.

I hobble out onto the roof, giving out a little sigh as the cool night air brushes my skin. My efforts have already paid off, as I already have a beautiful view of the night sky.

The roof of the Canterlot Private Clinic is lined with a rail, of course, along with more of those little walk-lights, just in case somepony – or me – happens to come up here at night. It’s a nice touch, and is rather aesthetically pleasing.

I make my way over to the railing on the edge of the building that faces the city. The view is pretty-much the same as the one from my room – albeit less constrained on the sides and at a higher angle – but no less enjoyable.

I sigh as I lean against the railing. Today – although I think it’s after midnight now, so I should say ‘yesterday’ – has been a very interesting experience. For the moment, I have money, medical care, and freedom. That’s all I can really ask for.

The lights of Canterlot are twinkling, as they do. It seems that ponies like to enjoy using old-fashioned candles for reading. It’s one of their social quirks. They have electricity, and light bulbs, but ponies seem to be naturally inclined to pull out candles when asked to provide a light.

There are just so many things to learn. I feel like how Twilight must feel. There’s so much knowledge here, just waiting to be tapped. I can’t wait to learn as much as I can about the land of Equestria and its people.

I’ll have so much to ask. Do they have religion? Are wing-boners real? Is Applejack made of dark matter?

Canterlot truly is beautiful at night. Aside from the day when I awoke, this is my first night in which I’ve stayed up late enough to see the lights of the city.

I close my eyes and hum contentedly, savouring the feeling of the wind blowing through my hair.

My Little Pony… My Little Pony…’ The lyrics drift through my head as I imagine the opening notes of Dreaming With Ponies. It would compliment this entire scenario so well.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

I turn my head slightly at the voice, and let out a harsh laugh.

“I shouldn’t be here? Define here.” I chuckle sarcastically as Twilight comes to stand next to me. “I don’t think me being on the roof is overly important, when I’ve crossed between worlds to get to it.”

She doesn’t reply, as I continue to watch the twinkling lights of the city.

Deciding that I would rather continue talking than let the conversation lapse into silence, I open my mouth once more, speaking the first thing that comes to mind.

“It really is a beautiful city, Twilight.”

“It is.” She responds plainly. I can’t read the tone in her voice. I won’t call it annoyed, or empathetic. It seems completely neutral. That must be her complying with my request – although It would be nice if she replaced the sympathy with a little friendliness. Isn’t that what the show is all about?

“Tell you what.” I say, turning away from the view to look at the purple mare. “Promise me that you’ll go out and have a day off today – and follow through on that promise – and then we can sit down and talk about humans.”

“Wait, really?” The neutrality disappears from Twilight’s voice instantly. “Really?

“Sure. I haven’t exactly been fair.” I smile, turning my attention back to Canterlot. “Might as well start making up for it.”

In a surprising turn, Twilight has nothing to add. She's sitting very still, but I can practically feel the excitement building inside her.

With a little sigh, I cast my eyes up to the stars.

“The moon is bigger here.”

“Huh?” Twilight shakes her head, caught off-guard by the random comment.

“The moon. It looks to be… an extra half as big as the one we see from earth.”

“Right.”

Twilight allows me a few minutes of silence for my stargazing. I don’t know the constellations, nor any individual stars, but I always like to just look. I have a whole explanation why, but at the moment I don’t really feel like going off on a long winded tangent about my insignificance in the universe. In my current state of mind, it’d probably just make me develop an inferiority complex.

Finally, I look at her again.

“Twilight, you’ve got a long day of doing nothing ahead of you. Maybe you should get some rest. I sincerely doubt I’ll be able to get to sleep any time soon.

The lavender mare looks at me thoughtfully. She’s still practically quivering with excitement, and I can feel my daw-meter twitching.

Finally she nods.

“Don’t stay out here too long.”

“I won’t.” I respond in kind turns away from the railing. “And thanks.”

“For what?”

I consider what to say. Should I thank her for agreeing to take today off, or for trusting me to stay out here on the roof a little longer? Maybe I should thank her for everything she’s done in general.

Finally, I just smile and say; “A lot of things.”

“Uhh… you’re welcome?” Twilight returns the thanks awkwardly. My sudden promise has really caught her off-guard.

“Goodnight, Twilight.” I turn back to look at Canterlot once more.

“Goodnight Keys.” Twilight responds in kind, before trotting away.