> Pennville Sanatorium > by TheEquestrianidiot > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Welcome to Pennville > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dr. Steven Pike reached into his jacket pocket, grabbing for the remainder of his cigarettes. He shook the box, and a single stick came out, falling into his open palm. Sighing, he extracted his lighter and lit up, relaxing as nicotine flowed through his bloodstream. It was two days ago when he was called to Pennville Sanatorium for the Mentally Ill to analyze a patient that had been working with for about six months now. Of course, he should have known that he'd have gotten called in on the weekend, but duty called, as he liked to say. And the girl said at his earliest convenience. And he wasn't really doing anything. "Dr. Pike?" A voice called over from the fence. Shane Armand, the facility's Chief of Security, approached him as Pike dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his heel. "Mr. Phoenix will see you now." Ah yes, Philip Phoenix; one of the current caretakers of the ward. There weren't many professionals here, minus Pike, Phoenix, Armand, and the Director. Rumors had been spread about the Director. Not many people had seen her, minus Pike. But she was a very busy person. The people who worked at the Asylum were mostly just volunteers and the occasional psych student, and the facility mostly housed suicidal teenagers and women suffering with panic attacks, never the actually deranged. Nevertheless, it wasn't the most pleasant of places. And deranged or not, one shouldn't let their guard down with most of these patients. The facility was meant for patients that tended to get… a little violent at times. Pike followed Armand's lead until he met with his college, the familiar young, red haired man stood before him. Pike reached over and shook his friends hand. "Phil! How are you?" "I'm good, Steven. I'm good." Phoenix waved his hand to motion Pike over, both of them walking down the hall. "I'm sorry to have called you on such short notice like this but one of the patients here had some sort of panic attack and wouldn't stop calling out for you. So we decided to bring you in before something bad happened." "Of course." Pike said. "That would be bad." Pike looked at his watch before he looked down at his briefcase and snapped it open. "I've actually got some police reports on the incidents that occurred in the past with her. . . . . history that I think you should look at it..." Pike pulled out a manila folder from his case, the kind one would see in a file in the movies. Phoenix took the file from him and browsed through the contents. They were neatly stapled prints, pictures, and a small review; fairly vanilla stuff. Inside was a patient review, summary, and a police report: Name: Twyla Sparks D.O.B.: 08-02-1986 Sex: Female Occupation: Former School Librarian Known Family: Violet Sparks (Deceased) Nigel Sparks (Deceased) Resistance by Suspect: YES Pursuit Necessary: NO Charges: Criminal Negligence, Manslaughter, Arson. Officer Responsible for Arrest: Lt. Edward Daniels Use of Weapon by Officer: NO Incident: At approximately 3:20PM, the suspect was reported working in the local school library... Twyla Sparks pulled her hatchback up to the back exit of the library, temporarily ignoring the "Do Not Block" sign. After all, she would only be parked there a few minutes while she unloaded the back end. She hefted an armload of hard-backed books into her arms. Belatedly, she realized that she'd parked too close; she would have to close the back end to get the door open. She reached up with one hand and nearly overbalanced as the weight of the books shifted while she tried to slam the hatch down once, twice, three times, to no avail. One of the used compact's quirks was that the hatch no longer caught, and even tended to pop open at inappropriate times, like while driving. "Looks like you could use a little help," called a voice to her right. A hand reached over and popped the hatch shut. Miraculously, it stayed shut. "Thanks," Twyla gawked, looking up at a girl with black hair dyed in a rainbow of colors, wearing a light blue soccer jersey and shin guards. She fumbled awkwardly for her keys under the heap of books. "No problem," the girl quipped. "Cars and I get along. We've both got a need for speed! Though, I prefer something with a little more horsepower than this… Here, lemme take some of those…" she said, catching a number of the hardbacks as they slid out of the librarian's arms. As Twyla was about to unlock the door, another girl called out. "Hey, y'all? Y'mind if I get in through there with this?" The young woman with the southern accent—and boots and hat to match it— approached with a 12-foot ladder under one arm. Twyla immediately recognized her as a member of the school's maintenance crew, April Jackson. Twyla swung the door open for her, but it became quite clear that the angle was wrong to get the ladder through the door. Among the three of them, they managed to lift it and lever it above Twyla's car to get it through the door, but not without complaint. "Yer not supposed to be parked here, you know," the cowgirl grumbled. "It's just for a minute," Twyla retorted, not without a measure of annoyance. "Not like anyone other than staff uses this door anyway. Besides, I couldn't find a spot anywhere else" "Yeah, April," the rainbow-haired girl replied sharply at her. "You could cut her a break. D'jou bring this ladder just to get up on your high horse?" "It happens to be for putting up the new wall hangings," April snipped back. "What about you, Rene? I didn't think ya had a mind for anything but sports. Lost your way to the football field?" Rene stuck her nose in the air. "I'm checking out the latest book by Anna K. Browning, for your information. Turns out jocks sometimes like reading too." April snorted condescendingly. "Aren't you a little old to be reading Daria Dune?" Growling at each other, both girls loosed a hand from the ladder, balling it into a fist at the other. As they did, the ladder bumped the roof of Twyla's hatchback. It made a squealing noise as metal slid across metal. "Hey!" she shouted. Both looked abashed and picked the ladder back up with short, mumbled apologies. Twyla gathered her books again and waved the two girls inside impatiently, shutting the door after them. "In, in, in!" Outside, unnoticed, the hatch of Twyla's car popped open, wedging under the door's handle. The librarian settled at her desk, in the center of the library, checking in the returned books as the girl with the ladder raised it and set it against a bookshelf near the double-doored entryway. Two more girls walked through the doors, one looking exceptionally confident, the other much less so, both carrying stacked bolts of royal purple cloth, echoing the highlights in the hair of the more self-assured one. "Thank you again ever so much for volunteering to help out, Fleur, darling. Some projects just require more hands than one person has." "Oh, I don't mind, Harriet," Fleur smiled back meekly. "As long as we're done by four thirty… It's my day to volunteer at the Equestrian Estates, too." "No, it shouldn't take us nearly that long!" Harriet flapped a hand dismissively. She unfolded a length of the cloth and hefting it into Fleur's arms and gave her a guiding shove toward the ladder. "There you are, dear. Now, up you go!" The wispy strawberry blonde paled a bit. "M...me?! But… but I'm afraid of heights! Can't you pin them up, and I'll stay down here?" "Well, no, darling! I've got to stay down here so I can see where to have you place them!" Fleur gave a small whimper at the thought of climbing the tall ladder, and Harriet patted her on the arm in a play of sympathy. "If I could lift them up by magic, I would, but this is what I needed a volunteer for, you know. So, would you kindly?" Twyla could hold her peace no longer. "You know, you shouldn't make her climb up if she's scared…" April, standing next to the ladder, waiting to hold it for whoever climbed up, said, "Ya know… if she's afraid a' climbin' up, I could do it…" A look of vast relief crossed Fleur's face, but Harriet's lips pressed together skeptically. "Do either of you happen to know how to pin the hem of a nylon drapery with a zigzag topstitch into a curtain pleat so that it doesn't ravel?" April's brows knit. "A what now?" Harriet nodded snippily. "I didn't think so. That's why I need Miss Terschy to do it. Go on now, dear!" She waved Fleur toward the ladder once more. The willowy girl shook uncontrollably as she ascended the first two rungs of the ladder and froze, drawing up her courage to step up to the third. Harriet gave an exasperated sigh. "Fleur, if you want to be on time to pet your little ponies, you really are going to need to step things up a bit!" Fleur whimpered, crushing her eyes shut as she climbed another rung. The cowgirl treated Harriet to a flat glare. "You're a real rarity, Bell." "Hmm?" the snobbish girl replied, paying more attention to a compact mirror than her friend on the ladder or the girl next to her. "Let me know when she gets to the top, would you?" Twyla had a few choice words she would have liked to say to Harriet Bell, but rather than cause further ruckus, held her tongue. "Hey, how fast does that cart go?" the girl Twyla had come to know as Rene said, eyeing it and Twyla with mischievous intent. "Not fast enough for you to try what I think you're thinking of trying," Twyla snapped at her. "And those stools are for people to use to reach upper shelves, not for sitting on." The rainbow-haired girl rolled her eyes and stood up. "Fine…" Twyla gave her a pert nod and went on her way. Rene waited for her to vanish around the corner, then stubbornly flopped down in the middle of the aisle, immediately immersed in her book once more. "…didn't say anything about the floor, heh heh…" she grinned to herself. Twyla sat scanning and cataloging books when one of the school's more colorful, if monochromatic, attendees arrived, sipping from a very large drink cup. "Ah-ah" Twyla chided abruptly, "Pinkie, you know you can't bring food and drink into the library!" Diane "Pinkie" Pinkerton-Pyle took a long slurp from the straw. "Oh, Twyla… don't be silly! I'm not bringing food and drink… just drink!" She shook the cup to emphasize her point. Twyla groaned. "Pinkie, you know you can't bend the rules that way! You can pour it out in the water fountain or leave it outside the door." "Come on, Twyla… Pleeeaaasse?" Pinkie begged, bouncing as she held on to the counter. "This Syrupy cost me six bucks! I don't wanna waste it, and if I leave it outside, someone might kick it over, or the janitors might take it away thinking it's trash!" "You paid six dollars for a Syrupy?" Pinkie leaned in conspiratorially. "It's my own recipe…" The girl shifted her eyes back and forth to make sure no one was listening in. "All syrup… No ice!" Twyla made a face of distaste, but the hyper girl went on regardless. "The manager at the 'Sugar Corner' finally caught on to me, though, and made me pony up," she pouted. "Look, Pinkie… I'd like to help you out, but the rules are the rules to protect the books and the patrons…" "Oh, I'm not going anywhere near your pretty, precious books! I just want to print off some new recipes on the computer!" The girl pulled out a ring binder to show Twyla what she already had. "Carrot cake… Baked cinnamon apples… Raisin oat bars…" April chuckled from behind them as she set the ladder against the wall behind them. "Sounds like horse feed." Pinkie turned around and stuck her tongue out at the other girl, then back to Twyla, putting her recipes away. "So whaddaya say, Twi? Can I just make a few teensy-weensy printouts, and me and my Syrupy will be on our way!" She gave the librarian the brightest, most hopeful smile Twyla had ever seen. Pinkie held the ear-to-ear grin, waiting for a response… and waiting… Twyla wondered if the girl's face would crack if she held the look much longer, but the hint of desperation in it was also bearing down up on her willpower, and she caved with a deep-suffering sigh. She glanced at the row of computers against the window, her eyes settling on the last one, with an old CRT monitor, that, since it only had a dozen burnt-out pixels, the school had not yet deemed worthy of replacement. Oh, wouldn't it be a shame if something very sticky spilled on it and ruined it? Then the school would have no choice but to have to get a replacement! Was it the most righteous of actions? Well, no… but if being a little devious would benefit everyone if such an accident occurred… "All right… but take the one all the way on the left, and be really careful that nothing accidentally spills on that monitor!" she said with a blatant series of winks so that Pinkie could not possibly miss her intent. Pinkie beamed. Twyla couldn't be sure if that meant she understood or not; beaming was Pinkie's default expression. "Thanks, Twyla! You're a pal!" The girl skipped—literally skipped—over to the bank of computers and sat down at the furthest, immediately setting her drink on top of the monitor. "Oooh, ancient technology!" Pinkie squealed excitedly as she started searching for recipes. "Come on now, Fleur! You really will be late if you don't climb faster!" "Leave her be, Harriet! She's doin' the best she darn can! She doesn't need you bossin'her on top of that!" April berated. Again. For the umpteenth time. It happened every time they had to move the ladder and send the timid girl up to pin another hanging to the library walls… Harriet would get prissily bossy, and it would irritate April, who couldn't seem to withhold her brutally honest opinion on the situation, and the two of them would start sniping back and forth at each other. Fleur's pleas for them to please not fight went unheard, Twyla had come over to shush them several times, and Rene had grumbled loudly that "Some people are trying to read here!" but each chiding only amended things for a second… the bickering dropping in volume for a couple of moments, but slowly working its way back up each time until the two were all but yelling at each other while Fleur quivered on the ladder, looking more and more like she just wanted to be out of there. The fighting was clearly not helping with her confidence in climbing, either. Thankfully, they seemed to be down to the last curtain. But, on the other hand… "What?!—Oh, no, no, NO! This can't be right!" "What is it, Harriet?" Fleur asked at her friend's distress, for the moment, safely on solid ground. The prissy girl stomped a fashionable boot on the floor. "The measurements must be off! It must've been those idiots, Stipp and Snell… They're always cutting corners, no matter how many times I tell them to take the time to do it right!" "What's the matter with it?" April asked, moving the ladder into place, nonplussed at the outburst. Harriet huffed, gesticulating at the wall as if it was perfectly obvious what was wrong. "This space is too short for the hanging… if we put it up like this, it would stick over the window by a good foot!" "Or a bad foot!" Pinkie added enthusiastically, her seat at the computer directly next to where the other three were now working. "Yes, precisely… abadfoot." "Ah don't see why anyone would give a hoot," April noted flatly. "Can't ya just… fold it a little more, or somethin'?" "Certainly not! Then it wouldn't match any of the others, or we could have to go back and do every other one over to match…" "I don't have time to do that!" Fleur protested in a panicky whisper. "I was supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago!" "Nobody's gonna notice!" April snapped at the fashionista, her ire fired up again. "If they do, they're not gonna care! You're wastin' people's precious time with all this fussin'!" The argument continued, until Harriet, staring at the offending corner, suddenly threw an arm out dramatically. "Wait! ... This bookcase! If we move it out just a little bit, the hanging can drop down behind it, and it won't hang over the window! Miss Jackson, if you would…" "D'you ever use your own hands for anything?" April growled. "Well, youarethe workhorse around here, my dear. Honestly, do you think Fleur or I could budge it?" Twyla finally came to the point where she just had to throw her hands up. She couldn't listen to this anymore. She set the hands on a little cardboard clock, indicating that she would be back in fifteen minutes, stood, and headed for the blessed silence of the restroom. She knew letting them move the bookcase could be hazardous, but at this point, she really didn't care. Meanwhile, back in the library, April gave up trying to drag the bookcase away from the wall. " 's too heavy… she ain't budgin'." Harriet hummed to herself. "Perhaps if we unloaded some of the books." She reached out and pulled several tomes out, setting them in a neat stack in the middle of the aisle. " 's gonna be top-heavy if you take 'em from there," the maintenance woman warned. "Don't be so paranoid… we only need to move it a little bit, and I don't want to bother with the fuss of taking them from the top shelves." April let out a heavy sigh. "Clearly…" Nevertheless, between the three of them, they managed to clear the lower two shelves, and April was able to wedge the heavy case a foot away from the wall and set the ladder precariously behind it. "There ya go, sugar. Last one, and we can all get outta here," she encouraged Fleur. Fleur once again looked terrified. "But… this time it's almost right against the wall!" "It's all right, I'm holdin' on tight, and I won't letcha fall. Let's just get it over with." Harriet turned away from her whimpering volunteer on the ladder, fishing around in her small hip-purse and pulling out her compact again. "Uff, all this work has given me a serious case of the frizzies!" she complained, reaching into the bag again for a small aerosol can of hair spray. April reached the end of her patience. "'All this work'?!" she boomed. "Now you listen—" As she approached Harriet to properly shake a finger at her, she caught her foot on the leg of the ladder, causing it to swivel around with a petrified Fleur atop it. The draping fabric swung out as Fleur flailed her arms, catching and overturning Pinkie's drink cup on top of the old monitor. Pinkie jumped back as the old monitor began sparking. A large gout of flame shot out, igniting the fumes of Harriet's hair spray, as well as her hair. Harriet screamed, first in surprise, then in pain as the fire spread almost instantly to her clothing, which melted against her skin, causing her even more agony. She fell back against the bookcase, the fire spreading to the mass of fuel behind her. Realizing what was happening, Pinkie seized the swinging material and wrapped it around Harriet in an attempt to smother the flames, but the gauzy fabric the decorating committee had selected turned out to be highly flammable. April grabbed the ladder, trying to steady it for a shrieking Fleur. "Fleur! Jump!" she hollered. As fire began licking up the wall as well as the bookcase, Fleur closed her eyes and made a tiny, frightened leap from the nearing flames. Though she hardly weighed anything, her weight was enough to tip the top-heavy bookcase, which crashed into the next one, causing the rest to fall like dominoes, one after another, flaming books and fanning pages spreading the fire through the library at a swift rate. Twyla turned the corner from the hallway of the restroom to immediately see smoke and fire in the library, and the form of Fleur being launched off the falling bookcase she'd leapt to and soaring past, uttering a breathless scream, arms flailing as if in flight. The sprinklers were going off, but seemed to do little against the rushing, roaring bonfire of books. Gasping, Twyla ran forward, only to have her way barred by a bookcase slamming down in front of the double doors, another falling and wedging itself against the first a moment later. Shoving books out of the way, she could see Rene through the slatted back of the bookcase, her legs obscured by one of the many fallen bookcases. "Help!" she yelled, beginning to cough at the acrid smoke, "I'm pinned!" Fleur lay in an unmoving heap, silent and sprawled at an unnatural angle, either knocked out or dead from the fall, pale pink hair covering her like a shroud. April caught the librarian's eye for a moment as she helped an extremely burned and wailing Harriet toward the back exit. Harriet's violet hair was completely singed away, her face mottled with pink blisters and the red and black of burned and charred skin. She appeared not to be able to see, and her upper half was naked, save for parts of her clothing had fused to her skin. The maintenance worker pointed Pinkie toward the trapped Rene. Pinkie attempted to shove the bookcase away, to no avail; too many other bookcases lay on top of the one pinning Rene's legs. "April!" she yelled over the roar of the fire, "I can't get her!" Twyla could only look on in horror as the scene before her only grew progressively worse. April set the burned girl down and ran to assist Pinkie, having about as much luck despite her extra strength. By now, they were all choking on the smoke, crawling on their hands and knees to keep out of the densest fumes, and the blaze was nearly on top of them by the time Pinkie and April were forced to give up on Rene and scurry for the emergency exit. "No! Please don't leave me!" Rene choked and gasped, eyes streaming from either the smoke or the abandonment. "Come back! You can't leave me here! Help me! You…You disloyal sons of bitches! I would never leave any of you behind! But you... you… Oh, God… help… HELP!" Her yelps turned more incoherent as the carpet in front of her began to burn, then from fear to screams of agony as the flames began searing her flesh. Twyla caught April's despairing look and saw the tears in Pinkie's terrified eyes as Rene's screeching heightened, then suddenly and sharply ceased. After a second of stunned silence, Pinkie broke into an inarticulate stream of panicked babble. Shifting urgently from foot to foot and coughing herself now as well from the smoke streaming out the library doors, Twyla looked around herself and spied a fire alarm, running over and yanking it immediately, then rushed back to the bookshelf to see that the others got out. Pinkie and April had collected a mercifully unconscious Harriet and had dragged her to the emergency exit. April reached up to slam the release bar. Finally, Twyla thought, at least Pinkie, April and Harriet would make it out alive. But as April shoved on the door, it opened an inch and jammed. The fire surged with a whoosh at the extra air. The faint look of hope on April's featured drained, and Twyla's heart dropped into her shoes as the girl rammed the door with her shoulder and kicked it with her boots several times, only managing to dent the door. She put an eye to the open crack in the door, then turned and ran to Twyla's vantage spot. "Twyla! It's your car!" April shouted to her over the roar of the blaze. Twyla could see soot caked around the girl's mouth and nostrils. Pinkie remained at the door, mouth to the gap, gulping for fresh air through the smoke like a beached fish. "Your car's blocking the exit!" A crackling, splintering noise suddenly sounded from above them, and a flaming beam crashed down, taking the place April had been a moment before, her Stetson hat floating down after her. Twyla gawked, horrified, then her knees gave out on her and she felt wetness running down her legs as she peed her pants. A moment later, though, she was up running through the hallways for the closest door that led outside. This is all my fault! she thought to herself as she ran, trying doors that might lead to a quicker path outside, but with most of the school locked up after hours, she didn't have any luck. I let all of this happen! I'm the cause! People are dying, because of me! BECAUSE OF EVERYTHING I DID! She was hyperventilating by the time she crashed through the pairs of doors at the school's entrance. She knew she had no time to spare, running at full tilt to round the building so she could move her car. She could still get Pinkie and Harriet out if she hurried… She never made it there. As Twyla rounded the corner of the building, on her way to the rear parking lot, she was caught under the arms by one of the first responders on the scene, a police officer who was clearly in the wrong place at the wrong time. "Whoa there, little lady! You can't go back in there! There's a fire!" "I can't—! I need to—" the young woman stammered in an all-out panic, flailing as the officer tried to subdue her. "I set—The library's on fire and my car—!" "It's all right, just shush now..." The officer's brow furrowed. "You set the library on fire?!" he repeated, misunderstanding her, then wrestled her arms behind her as she continued to struggle, now in an all-out panic to get away from the man and save the remaining two occupants of the library. "No, no! NO!" She shrieked and fought the officer, but was no match for him as he wrangled her to the ground, cuffed her wrists, and wrestled her into the back of his patrol car. "I've got to get the horse… the door!" Twyla heaved her shoulder against the handleless door in a desperate attempt to free herself, screaming after the man, "They're still in there!" Either the officer couldn't hear her or wasn't listening as he calmly reported in over his radio that he had a suspect in custody. "Everybony…body's gonna die!" The girl wailed, throwing herself helplessly against the confines of her prison, guilt, remorse, and despair consuming her. It was all too much. Something in her mind broke. She didn't want to be here anymore. She just wanted to be somewhere nice… someplace where people's deaths weren't all her fault… She wanted to go back, magically fix it all. Laying on her back in the patrol car, her face rested on the window. As the firemen arrived, Twyla gazed upon the horse statue that adorned the entrance of Canterlot High, the fire rising behind it making it look like it was raising the sun itself. Her eyes trailed down to the blazing library wing. In its wall, still intact, was a mural that the students and the staff did to celebrate the city's bicentenary. It was a beautiful drawing of the town, full of rainbows and smiling faces, with the flying unicorn, the mascot of the school, soaring above all. Under it, there was a sign… PENNVILLE. 200 Years of Harmony. The Friendship Capital of the World. A Good Place to Live. "A good place to live…" Twyla mumbled as her vision blurred "I… I want go there… to Pen… Pony… ville…" Terschy, Fleur. Cause of death: broken spinal cord; suspected fall from height of 10 ft or more. Time of death: approx 4:55pm, October 10, 2010. Boudesch, Rene. Cause of death: severe burns. Subject trapped beneath bookcase during fire, unable to escape. Time of death: approx. 5:05pm, October 10, 2010. Jackson, April. Cause of death: crushed ribcage, wounds inflicted by falling ceiling beam; possibly coupled with heavy smoke inhalation during fire. Burns present, believed to be post-mortem. Time of death: approx. 5:15pm, October 10, 2010. Pinkerton-Pyle, Diane. Cause of death: smoke inhalation. Subject trapped in burning building, emergency exit blocked. Subject moved to hospital but passed away approximately 12 hours after hospitalization despite unsuccessful attempts to resuscitate. Time of death: 4:42am, October 11, 2010. Bell, Harriet. Cause of death: complications from severe burns, including smoke inhalation and bacterial infection acquired during hospital stay. Subject believed to be at ground zero of the fire in the Canterlot High School Library. Indications of ignited hair products which may have started the fire. Time of death: 2:13pm, October 31, 2010. As Phoenix finished reading, Pike stopped in front of a metal door with a slot and a piece of paper with the words "PATIENT NO. 23412 – T. Sparks" on it with black marker. "This is it." Phoenix turned around, giving Pike a hard look. "You said this patient is deranged. Shouldn't you have some orderlies with you?" Pike scratched at his collar as his face started to sweat slightly. "Well, you see...She gets a bit nervous around the orderlies..." Phoenix cocked an eyebrow, not sure whether or not to continue pressing on. "Right...I'll at least stay out here in case something happens." Pike nodded, and Phoenix opened the door. "Spike! There you are!" the girl inside the room exclaimed as soon as Pike entered. "Where were you? I've been calling for hours!" Pike smiled as Phoenix closed the door "Sorry, Twyla. I was… pre-occupied" "Were you running errands for Rarity again?" the girl asked "I know you have a crush for her, Spike, and I appreciate you being so helpful to my friends, but I need my number one assistant ready to assist me at all times" "Of course" Pike smiled and sat on the bed, grabbing his notebook and pen, ready to take notes "So… what did you call me for, Twyla?" "Princess Celestia scheduled a test for me on Canterlot!" the girl said agitated "I need to review all my friendship lessons. Do you have them with you?" Pike sighed and took an envelope from his pocket. In it there were stack of notes, ripped from his notebook. "Yes, Twyla. Yes, I have them" The girl beamed "Alright, let's begin!" Time flew as doctor and patient reviewed their 'friendship lessons' which just happened to be a review of all their previous sessions. Pike found himself amazed once again with Twyla's progress as he went through his notes (or 'reports' as she would call them). Well, her emotional progress in the very least. She became more stable and… happy. Her sanity, unfortunately, seemed to deteriorate more and more. Pike couldn't help but feel like he failed her. As always, their session ended with a 'letter' to the Director. Pike was still contemplating what he was going to tell her as he wrote down the now painfully familiar last line. "Your Faithful Student, Twilight Sparkle." "Did you get it all, Spike?" The man looked over his notes and at the young girl before him. He nodded. "Well, what are you waiting for?" the girl asked. The man smiled compassionately. He rolled the paper in which he made his annotations, brought it next to his mouth, and then blew. The girl smiled, satisfied. After a few seconds, he rose from the floor and said, "I'm afraid that's all the time we've had for tonight, Twyla." Twyla blinked, taking a moment to understand what the man just said. "Oh. Of course. You've been through a lot today, Spike. You deserve a rest. I'll stay here a few more minutes to study the works of Starswirl the Bearded, okay? If you need something, just call me." The man smiled at the young woman before him, but his eyes betrayed the sadness he felt. The girl remained sitting, but she wasn't looking at him anymore. She stared at the ground, her face emotionless. He knew that look. She's no longer here. She's back in her world. The man sighed and signaled for the men outside to open the door. As he exited the cell, he saw Phil standing with a slightly frazzled look. "Uh . . . S-Steve . . . Uh, the Director wants to see you." Pike sighed inwardly. 'So much for a short day.' he thought. "Ok. Thanks." Pike noticed the expression that his friend held. "Are you alright?" he asked. Phil stammered a bit before answering, "I've never seen her before. She was about to enter the cell. When I told her you were in there with Twyla, she stopped and to me to tell you that she wanted to see you when you were done. She was so beautiful. . . . And tall." Pike chuckled at his friend. "Don't get your hopes up, man. She's only got the hot for one guy." Phoenix looked at Pike before he said "Oh, and who's that? You?" Pike looked shocked. "No!" he cried. "She told me once, long time ago. There was a guy. Black hair. Very nice guy from what she told me. Forgot his name though. Sanders or Sammy or something. Started with an S." Phil looked at him before holding out his. "If you say so, man. I'll let you get going. Catch you later, Spike." he was off in a flash before Pike could respond. Pike sighed and headed towards the Director's office. He couldn't help but wonder once again why the corridors seem to be even worse lit than the cell he has just been in. Maybe it was all just a matter of perception. Maybe it was all the moaning and screaming and crying that echoed through the walls that painted such a desolated picture compared to the relative peace he felt in the company of Ms. Sparks. Maybe it was her smile and unfounded optimism that made her cell not seem as dark as everyone else's. Maybe he was just lying to himself. He reached into his pocket near the name tag that says Dr. S. Pike, and pulled out a half carton of cigarettes. He indulged himself with a quick smoke, letting the calming effects of the nicotine sooth his nerves before he entered the Director's office to give her his weekly report. "Hello, Steven" the Director greets him without taking her eyes from her paperwork "Any progress with your patient?" Steven swallowed. He knew the answer was negative. And he suspected the Director knew that as well. "She's getting better, Dr. Esther." The Director paused and looked at him, scrutinizing, him. Clearly, she wasn't buying it. "Okay, she would get better if we'd transfer her to a healthier environment!" Steven said. "Celia, she does not belong here!" "The state seems to disagree with you, Dr. Pike." Celia replied, her voice emotionless. "She's not dangerous, Celia." Steven said "If you back me up in the hearings, we..." "Tell that to my sister!" Celia snapped. "…The spark ignited inside me when I realized that you all… are my friends" Twyla said to the empty space surrounding her, as if she was addressing someone who wasn't there, while practically choking the woman that was pinned down under her. She turned to the woman "You see, Nightmare Moon, when those elements are ignited by the… the spark, that resides in the heart of us all, it creates the sixth element: The Element of… Magic!" "GET OFF ME!" Luna Esther cried, as Twyla started shaking her by the neck while making weird noises with her mouth. "...Okay, that was bad, but it was her first day!" Steven insisted. "She was scared. She hasn't attacked anyone else since!" "What about Mr. Armand's fiancée?" Celia asked. "The one she thought was an evil impostor? What did she call her again?" Steven sighed in defeat. "A Changeling..." "Yes, a changeling! The Queen of the Changelings, if I recall correctly. Very amusing." Celia didn't seem amused at all. "And before that, what about that little mutiny stunt she pulled? Riling up all the other patients? Creating mayhem? I had to intervene myself!" "Celia, please, this is not the place for her!" he pleaded. "She sunk into a world of her own to escape here! If we want her cured, we need to get her out of there and, for that, we need to get her out of here!" Celia pondered the thought and sighed. "Steven, she's dangerous. To herself and others. She needs to stay here." "She's not dangerous!" Steven insisted. "She committed arson!" "It was an accident! She's innocent! That's just one more reason she shouldn't be here!" Exasperated, Steven took the seat before him. "Please, let me explain, from the beginning... You'll see she's not the lost cause you think she is..." "I never said she was a lost…" Celia begins to say, but is interrupted by Steven slamming the police report on her desk and opening it "Read it." "I've already read the reports, Steven" Celia said impatiently. "Then you know that there's nothing, nothing here that indicates she started the fire!" Pike rose from his chair to point at the report, for emphasis sake. "Except for the fact that she said that she started the fire!" Celia points out. "Yes, according to Lt. Daniels, but we don't have any evidence that she actually said that, because his dashcam didn't record it, and it didn't record it because it was, for some reason, off!" "Are you implying that he lied?" Celia corked an eyebrow. "Misheard at the very least" Steven said "But even if she did say that. It was the hysterics of a panicked, guilt-struck woman. You know that whatever it is that someone says in a state of hysteria cannot be held as evidence for they are not in their right mind! There is no physical evidence that she started the fire! Hell, the report itself says that it's very likely that one of the victims was the one who caused it!" "But she blocked the emergency exit" "I'm not debating that" Steven said "She committed criminal negligence, yes. She's at least partially responsible for their deaths, yes. But she didn't do it on purpose. There's no malice in her, Celia! God, she feels so bad that she sunk on a fantasy world just to escape reality. And as long as reality keeps sucking, like the howling corridors she's surrounded with make her believe, she will never come back! If we want her to accept reality, we need to present her with a reality worth coming back to." Celia stood silent for a minute. Pike stood there, waiting a response. "What do you suggest?" Celia finally asked with a sigh. "The Crystal Institute" Steven replied. "The Crystal Institute?" Celia almost chuckled. "Steven, that place is intended for patients with harmless delusions. It has a very lax security. Sparks could just walk out of the front door. They would never approve the transference of a dangerous patient to such an easily escapable institution." "She's not dangerous!" Steven said, almost desperately. "The Crystal Institution is the perfect environment for her to finally heal! It's gonna be tough convincing the committee, I know, but with you on my side I know we can do it! So, please, Celia, help me help her!" The Director stopped to ponder. She almost conceded until she remembered the marks on her sister's neck. "I'm sorry, Steven" Celia said "But that's a no." Dr. Pike collapsed in his chair, defeated. "She looks up to you, you know?" Pike said as he took his envelope out of his pocket. "Every session she asks me to write you a letter. It probably won't mean much to you. Heck, you may even be able to use them as evidence against Twyla. And it probably... no, it definitely breaks my Doctor-Patient confidentiality… But I think you should have them anyway" Pike tossed the envelope on Celia's desk. "Read them. It may give you some perspective. Or maybe not. I don't know anymore…" Steven rose from his seat to leave as Celia stared at the thick envelope on her desk. "Steven..." Celia called. Steven stopped just as he was about to exit and turned to face her. "Is there anything else about this case you're not telling me?" Steven sighed, knowing that his next words would doom any chance Twyla had of leaving this place. "Yes... she believes that she's a unicorn." He closed the door and left.