A cold pit of fear, like such a heavy ache in her stomach, waves of pain aching across her chest. Bright panic, a dulling fuzziness, not being able to trust anyone, not even herself, not even....her own mind.
~ A Oneshot loosely based on the experience of several PonyTown Lab RPs, with some quite real emotions mixed in. A tale bringing you to the lowest of lows, to a possibility of a second chance. To a possibility of redemption and maybe just maybe stability. ~
Blackness became a sort of dim gray as I opened my eyes. What had happened? My head felt sort of foggy and weighted. I blinked away a film of wetness over my eyes, the features of this unknown place were still blurry. It was cold. Very cold, like the pit of fear in my stomach. I blinked again. Stone. Stone walls, stone floor. A small cell, completely empty except for the two plain mattresses sitting on the floor. I could feel the cold through the mattress. It was thin.
Where am I? What happened? My mind sullenly repeated. I was alone. That was not new. Ever since I was orphaned at a young age I had felt, if not been, alone. Light glinted through the iron bars set into a thick wooden door. Truly a prison. Where am I!? My mind panicked. What had happened? No matter how hard I thought it just slipped away. Many of my memories are spotty like this, just...fuzzy. I can remember orphanages, prisons? Doctors telling me...telling me I’m unstable.
I’m not unstable. I...I….I’m fine....I’m as fine as anyone else… I unfurled my wings and leaped into the air. The ground was cold. Hard. Often...dangerous. Blood spills across the ground...you can fall...get hurt....die..? My constant flapping added sound to the still air. I could hear....farther off...screams of...screams...what are screams...I can’t remember...some expression of emotion...have I made others scream? I can’t remember. A voice called out, breaking the silence, like the tolling of a death bell. “Name and species.” It was not a question, more of a command really. Sweat rolled down my face. I don’t like commands, they...they sometimes hurt. Telling me to do bad things...I didn’t do bad things....they’re wrong about me...please… “Name and species.” The voice was clearly vexed this time. Fear...so cold….so hard...like a rock buried in the pit of my stomach weighing my mind down so I can’t trust anyone...nobody....Where am I? How did I get here!? PLEASE! “Name and species!” The voice shouted in anger. I quaked, shaking in the air, dipping towards the stone, just keeping in the air. “Brightspice!” I shouted back in terror, “Brightspice…” Was I still Bright? Maybe Bright had died long ago...like her parents...gone. Just gone. After all the fuzziness in my head. After all the things that I dare not remember doing...Am I still me? “Species…?” “Pegasus. Just...an ordinary...pegasus.” A deep ache went like a wave through my chest. Tears formed in my eyes. “Where am I!?” I cried. “Who are you!? Why am I here - what happened to me!?” “Welcome to the lab. Brightspice.”
How could it possibly have gotten worse. HOW DOES IT ALWAYS GET WORSE I felt the wet streaks of tears down my cheeks. I've had others look down on me for crying, I've had some admire me for it. Crying just is, and always has been ritual response to pain. I feel the bruises throbbing. I could feel cuts, nicks, burns....some of the body. Some of my soul... I know broken. For I have been broken many times. Knotted up like a pretzel with heartache so real you can feel the throbbing. This is torture. What they're doing to me is torture.
But it can't hold a candle to what I did. What did I do? I forgot. I must keep forgetting, must....protect myself... The tears continue falling. Its like a blackness begins as a tiny patch of rot in your heart, it pulses outward like a growing flame, until it feels like your nothing but a shell. I went through hell. I went through hell again. I keep managing somehow, impossibly, to fit myself back together. But each versionis a little more broken....I....I...what was I just...thinking...I know I'm losing this fight. But I pretend I'll survive. I'm good at pretending.
I'm in hell again. Its a different hell. Not in my mind, not filling me with cracks of my own creation. No this is the work of others who force their way into me with tools not meant to create. I huddle against the wall. I feel the cold stone. It's nice to feel something real, solid. But what if it swallows me up...?I wish it would....The white coat lunges towards me again, they stab me with the freezing hot metal rod. I feel a jolt of icy fresh burning shadow. Like the sound your heart makes when it realizes tragedy. "Subject still reacts to pain, but does not resist as strongly. No real results as per the hypothesis that one can become immune to the elements if exposed enough."
I continue to cry. All of this is so confusing...So confusing it hurt. So much to wrap my rotting brain around. I did something a long time ago. It wasn't my fault. It was like this. It was being forced into a corner. But back then I used to fight. No NO don't think about it-Don't think about it- Don't you dare remember, you promised, you know, I-we? I. I know I can't handle this. Turns out not only can not fighting hurt you, but you can also fight too hard. I hurt them-I I...I....I....I.... I hurt them like they had hurt me. And more. They named me Bright. But I know nothing but the dark. The dark is my friend. I'm in so deep, its easier to swim down now. I swam a long long way.
My body is a tight knotted ball. I convulse with sobs and gasps. "Return subject to cell, bunk with another test so we can see the results of social interaction after extreme stress. Proceed and record responses." I feel their too clean hooves trying to roll me over or lift my limp body. They aren't really clean. They stink of scrubbing. Nothing can cleanse the deeds you're doing...why would anyone do something like this....Why did I.....NO DON'T THINK ABOUT IT...PLEASE.... They can't pry my clamped ball apart. So magic envelops me. Magic is unfair. Its a vehicle for things best left buried. I still don't uncurl. My wings hurt. My wings always hurt. I...hurt.
Yes. I swam down. So far down to protect myself. How could I ever return to light after what I have felt. Pain so tragic that words don't describe. They hurt me. So I hurt them. But hurting them, only hurt more. I couldn't live with it, I couldn't survive it. So I buried the pain. I buried the agony. I swam down and away from it. Drowning myself under miles and miles of silence. But not even here can I escape. They found me. Someone always finds you. Others would tell me things. Others would say it was right or wrong. But they don't know. They weren't ever there.
I'm still shaking.
The gravity of emotion pulls me down.I can't think these thoughts...please...I can't relive this...Please GOD or whatever deity exists out there....sweet Celestia and your blinding light....let me die...let me slip away and escape this hell... They stop caring eventually. They send me away to creatures who care less. The words get harsher. The help gets....darker. Until you end up in places like this. Where your pain becomes your value. And what's the point of running when the pain rides your back. They torture me here. And it destroys me. But that small bit deep down in what's left of my soul, is grateful for a real physical pain. To distract me from the agony my mind plays over and over. The pulsing dark in my heart.
The magic puts me down. I have not heard a creak or a clopping of hooves. I have not smelled the scent of cold acid water. For I have been lost in the dark recesses of the underground, the colossal caves of my thoughts. I am set down on the mattress. I know they leave. They always leave. Everyone leaves.
