What you Need

by Hemlock conium

Chapter 7: Misplaced Perspective

I awoke to a hazy mismatch of colors as my heavy eyelids slowly lifted, allowing my tired eyes to adjust to the room. It took several attempts of blinking to finally banish the blurry haze, replacing it with the more solid and defined shapes of my medical room. My bedroom room, the same room I've come to dwell within the past, who knows how long. The same dull window loomed to my left, the same faded red covers laid on my bed, the same white tiled floor greeted my hooves and the same orange plaster draped walls. I don’t know why this still surprised me. I had awoken countless times to this sight, and yet all the same I felt a little bit of myself die inside each time. It was a nightmare that I could never escape. Even the raging storm inside my head could not hide me from this.

Speaking of storms, just outside I could hear the familiar roar of one. Violently crashing against the walls of my room; attempting to breach whatever crack it could find. Threatening to fill the room with its winds and waters. The noise didn't bother me however, in fact it was the contrary. It was like a soothing lullaby to my tired ears. Calling me closer to it, to witness its vastness. So, I indulged it and wiggled my way out of bed.

Though as I began to climb out of bed a second noise struck my ears. It was a familiar voice, though I could not lay my finger on whose voice it was. Though I saw nothing in my room, yet all the same the voice came like a ghost, calling to me from every direction. What it was saying I couldn't make out as it was incomprehensible, yet all the same, I had the most distinct feeling it was calling to me. Like a siren might call out to a sailor. Despite the voices' almost angelic softness and inviting tone, something in me held me back; stopping me from reaching out for the voice.

It was like a leash, pulling me back as I attempted to reach out; choking all my will to try, out of me. Until finally I gave up; slumping back down in bed, letting the voice fade to the rumble of rain outside. Then as softly as it came it faded to nothing. Leaving me with only the mesmerizing lull of the storm. Beckoning me to the depths of sleep.

Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to; something was wrong here. When I tried to piece together what was off however I could feel the haze of my mind return. It intermixed with the storms soothing lullaby; deafening out my thoughts.

No There's something definitely wrong here I told myself as I struggled to become alert once more. Something inside me was going off with panic, as if I was in terrible danger to an unseen force. My eyes attempted to quickly study the room. My eyes, however, seemingly remained blind to the truth. My eyes refusing to truly take in what laid before them. Everything around me told me this was fine and to just ease into sleep, yet something deep in the back of my mind still screamed of danger. It did everything in its power to force me to constantly study my room. No matter how much I looked and looked, nothing seemed wrong however. Everything was fine.

Then light hit my eyes as the loud squawk of a bird ripped me from my sleep. I lurched up with a groan; looking around the physical world. My eyes quickly landing upon the annoying black bird that had ripped me from my sleep. It rested, perched up on the tree outside my window, seemingly pleased with itself. I felt a small scowl form across my muzzle before being interrupted by the voice of my dreams.

“Oh good! Phoenix you’re finally up," nurse Pink Heart practically sung, “I had been trying to get you up all morning, but you just buried yourself deeper under your covers. For a while there I thought you were just going to sleep in all day again.” She shot me a warm smile as she sat down a tray of food. Though as she followed my gaze she spoke up again.

“Oh these? This was your breakfast, but you'd slept so long I'm afraid it's gone cold. I can get something fresh if you'd like.” To which I shook my head earning me a look bordering on impatient and annoyed.

“You know it's not healthy to eat as little as you do, and sleep as much as you do. Especially for how young you are,” she ranted, causing me to wince a bit as I was reminded of my current form's age,” a filly your age really should be eating a big breakfast, outside playing with friends,” she chided. Despite the scolding, I knew her rant came from a good place. She was simply trying to get what she saw as a lost confused filly to be healthy, but she was wrong.

I felt my mouth open for a second as if to reply before I slowly closed it; shaking my head with a sigh. Preemptively deciding it wasn't worth the effort of explaining to her why she was wrong. Pink Heart noticing this took in a sharp breath followed by a controlled exhale, before slowly walking up and sitting at my side. She said nothing, instead letting her presence do the talking for her. I guess she realized the futility of talking as well. Yet, her disposition still radiated with the same care and comfort she'd tried to express through words.

It was odd really, ponies wore their emotions on their sleeves, just by looks you could tell what most were thinking. While I recalled the show displaying this same manor, I don't think simply watching it would ever quite encapsulate how emotionally open and expressive ponies were. Making me realize just how alien my reserved responses were.

We sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, keeping our dichotomy in silence. She sat tall, attentive, and ready to care. I mean while laid, limp, and tired wishing to sleep. It wasn't until Pink Heart got up that I remembered the world around me.

“I'm going to grab some apples, and you're going to eat them alright? I'm not taking no as an answer.” She informed me, though not in an angry way but rather something more akin to maternal. Seeing as I had no choice in the matter I gave her a simple nod of confirmation as she took her leave. Leaving me once more alone with my thoughts.

I slowly turned to face my window; gazing out into the cold wonderland beyond. It was my only perspective out into the world anymore. A gentle onset of frost had begun to cover the window blurring most of my view, but I could still make out the silhouette of a lone tree. The same tree that the annoying bird had rested upon. It stood alone, deep in its hibernation, riding out the storm of snow and ice. It looked dead, old, battered. A soldier whom had rode out the worst of battles only to come home haggard and empty. Only its home had no one, no one to help carry its burdens, no one to raise and help it along. Wanting nothing more than to sleep its days away.

“Don't worry, it's only asleep, it’ll come back in the spring, stronger and more lively than ever.” Nurse Pink Heart voice rang out from behind, though her voice was somewhat muffled by something, likely a basket with apples she had mentioned. Though I didn’t bother to face her so I couldn't tell.

“A bold assumption to assume it’ll survive this winter. Seems like a kinda rough winter to hold out in.” I retorted, causing her to sit in silence for a long moment. Though if it was because this was the first time she'd heard me speak in forever or because she was thinking of the right way to reply, I had no idea.

“It’s friend’s will help it along,” she assured, ”they always do.”

“What friends?”

“You cant see them from here because the window doesn't give you the whole view and is blurry. But beyond its scope there's a dozen more trees all around the building whom are helping it stick out every day. Then When the clouds finally fade away and reveal the sun they’ve so long forgotten, they’ll all be stronger for it.“

“How do you know they'll help one another, or even can help one another.” I insisted.

“It's the law of nature. If they don't I suppose they'll simply fail to make it,” she answered, ”Every creature gives a little and every creature takes a little from one another. In doing so they build one another up and can withstand even the worst of winters and storms.” I shook my head at the response as I continued to stare at the lone tree; my mind slowly drifting off once more as nurse Pink Heart had handed me an apple.

Comments

[KKSlider]

No There's something definitely wrong here

Hmmmm.... Princess Luna intruding in on the dream and primal instincts of being watched, maybe?

[Hemlock conium]

10481447
So I wont say if your right or wrong here, because something I love about art, such as writing, is seeing peoples interpretations and how they think a story may go. Death of the author and all that jazz, but if you do wont to know my actual thought process/ intent here, here you go(don't read ahead if you'd prefer to keep your own interpretations) This story is in a lot of ways based off my own struggles with things like apathy and being lost in life, shocker who would have guessed art imitates life. In any case the voice is the internal nagging, that at least in my case as I cant speak for others experiences, was the one I always felt. Telling me that something was just off in how I lived my day to day life. Like I never was really living but rather just going through each day like clock work. Days and events always just kind of blurred together like they are for Phoenix(such as weeks passing by without elaboration, being unable to tell dream from reality). While I never really had an outside reference to know something was wrong here something in the back of my mind always nagged at me (just as it is for Phoenix). Telling me there was more to life than simply just "existing." Though I had no idea what. In the case of Phoenix they've fallen into this trap of general apathy in order to evade the misery/problems of their life/current situation. Under the dangerous mind set of: "After all can't be hurt if you just numb out the pain." This in turn leads to a really miserable unfulfilling life, where nothing seems right but you cant place your finger on what's exactly out of place. In this case it's Phoenix living a life for himself in which he will never find that meaning and drive he's looking for. Instead he's going to have to learn to lean on others as well as live life for those around him. Tl;dr: putting this in a simpler way that borders on pretentious, the thing telling him something is wrong is himself. Knowing that the dream/delusion he's living is a trap. One that threatens to consume and destroy him if he lets it. But he's yet to reach a place where he realizes that on a conscious level. Nor does he know why yet. The entire chapter is a set up for 1.reenforcing the fact somethings wrong/ that this is a dangerous mind set that will offten make one drown out the obvious answer and help they need. 2. being a foreshadowing/metaphor to what he's going to need to over come this. If you read this hopefully that clears up my vison for this story. I know my explanation is a bit clunky but I've been up some odd 28ish hours right now as I right this. So if you'd like further elaboration tell me and ill get back to you after I've had sleep.

[Hemlock conium]

10481447
Back and "rested" so if you have any questions fill free to ask. I'm always happy to hear other peoples thought and interpretations, as well as explain my original intent.

[Luckyfanisaac]

The same dull window loomed to my left, the same faded red covers laid on my bed, the same white tiled floor greeted my hooves and the same orange plaster draped walls.

I thought the walls were purple and the window was on the right?

Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to; something was wrong here.

Despite the scolding,(—— her I knew her rant came from a good place.

the same care and comfort she’d tried to express through words.

Seems like a kinda rough winter to hold out in.”

“It's the law of nature. If they don't I suppose they'll simply won't make it,(——” she answered.(—— ,Every creature gives a little

[Hemlock conium]

10482546
Keep reading. But glad to know my attention to detail wasn't wasted also floors suppose to be grey not white so there's also that.

[Danger Noodle]

10482550
And here I thought I was just remembering wrong from an hour ago.