The Definition of Insanity

by Snow Quill

First published

Today will be different, it just has to be. I feel it in my heart.

The definition of insanity is said to be doing the same task over and over again while expecting a different result. 

I suppose this makes me insane. 

But I do not care.


Originally written for a Quills and Sofa Panic from 2020 where it placed second! Presented here with some editing/expansion.

Cover art by me! If you are a writer and would like cover art, send me a PM!

((Also now with a sequel, written by a friend))

Routine

View Online

The shower knob creaks as it’s turned and there is a soft rumbling in the pipes before the water shoots out the faucet and starts to fill the bath. A mostly featureless blob turns towards me and though her face is blank, I know who she is. My mommy smiles at me and I feel the warmth of her love, “Do you want bubbles?”

I nod, cooing and throwing my hooves out in front of me as I babble, “Bubbles! Bubbles!”

She laughs and ruffles my mane, “Alright, but remember, we keep the bubbles…”

She trails off and I nod again, serious now. “Inside the bath.”

“Righto my sweet!”

I feel so warm and happy, surely this is one of the best days ever! I lean into her as she kisses my forehead and giggle as her mane tickles my nose. Her mane always smells sweet, like my favorite candy.

There is a nagging feeling, an itching, no, a pinching in my ear. Mommy has talked about feelings like this before, she called them her
senses. Dad has them too, but his aren’t the same.

I frown and squint at the mommy figure leaning over the bath and pouring in bubble stuff. The more I try to focus on her though, the fuzzier her edges become. I shake my head and lean back and she returns to a mostly pony shape.

The pinching in my ear becomes a stinging in my eyebrow. I know it means something, but what? I feel like the answer is just on the tip of my tongue…

I am suddenly swept up and laugh as I am brought to the bath, cuddled close by her. She hums and holds me over the water and I can feel bubbles popping and brushing against my hind hooves. I squeal with the feeling and look excitedly into her not-quite-there face, waiting for her to place me into the water and go on a watery and bubbly adventure.

Her face flickers into clarity for a moment, but it looks all wrong. Mommy was always happy, she wasn’t ever sad like that, not that I remember anyways. The stinging in my eyebrow and pinching in my ear are joined by a deep pit forming in my stomach. “M-mommy?”

“I’m sorry Cheese, but you have to wake up now.”

“What? Mommy, what do you mean? Why do you look so sad?”

“I have to go for a bit, you be a good boy okay?”

She drops me before I can respond and I fall into the tub, endless towers of bubbles rising around me and closing in. I see her looking down at me, smiling sadly as she opens her mouth and -

~~

“Wake up! The sun is up and it’s time for you to greet her Lil’ Cheese!”

“AHHH-oof!”

Cheese groaned as he hit the floor of his bedroom, the blankets tangled around his rear hooves.

“Wake up! The sun is up and it’s time for you to greet her Lil’ Cheese!”

He carefully stood up, sighing as he kicked his blankets to the side and turned towards his custom alarm clock. “Wake up! The sun is up and-”

He shook himself, casting away the last bits of sleep that clung to him and the odd dream that was quickly slipping away. “Bubbles…” He muttered, “Something with bubbles.”

He grabbed his dream journal and trotted out of his room, heading downstairs towards the kitchen. As was the case for over a year now, on the table was a pile of waffles, still warm, and a note.

He stifled a sigh, moving almost robotically as he placed his journal on the table and went to the pantry, tossing a small pitcher of syrup onto the table. The pitcher teetered precariously, a drop of the thick brown maple syrup beading at the lip and threatening to spill over the note before it settled back onto the table with a quiet ‘clink’.

The almost ruining of paper was lost on Cheesecake as he pulled out a fork and knife and sat before the plate. He glanced over the note, hoping it would have different words, but it was the same that was left every morning; down to the uniform, almost perfectly typewriter font that Dad had written in since Mom went to the hospital.

Cheese shook his head and placed the note gently to the side before grabbing the syrup and swirling it over his waffles. “One, two, and three! Follow this count and the perfect waffle you’ll eat.”

Satisfied, he put the pitcher to the side and cut into the waffles, taking a bite before opening his dream journal. He noted the date at the top and wrote ‘bubbles’ underneath it. He glanced through the other entries as he ate, each only containing a word or two, and none sharing any obvious connection.

White room.

Sun.

Clean.

Surprise party.

Beeps.

Bubbles.

He finished his breakfast and closed the journal, taking his dishes to the sink and quickly washing them. “Today will be different.”

He wasn’t quite sure why he said that to himself, but it felt important. More than that, he needed to. The words were almost halfway out his mouth before he realized he was saying them. “Today will be different, I can feel it in my heart.”

After drying his dishes, he returned to the table and picked up the journal before returning it to his room. As he placed it on his desk, the cuckoo clock in the hall chimed the hour.

“Eight o’ clock, time to get going.”

He trotted out his room and to the front door, taking a deep breath before opening it and stepping outside. The sun greeted his face, warm and bright, wrapping around him like a hug.

His breath caught for a moment as he realized he couldn't remember the last time he had been hugged by another pony. No, not just another pony, her.

He sighed and fluffed up his curly pink hair before starting his 3,114 step journey across Ponyville. He knew it was that many steps because he had walked it 956 times, 957 counting the one he was about to start, and had started counting around the 20th trip.

Cheese tried his best to ignore the stares of the townsfolk as he walked, their pity and sad smiles made him uncomfortable. His ears flicked at the whispers that followed, just quiet enough to not be considered talking, but still loud enough he could hear.

“Oh that poor boy, he’s going back again isn’t he.”

“He does the same thing every day, I wish I could help him.”

“We both know he wouldn’t accept any help, the proud thing. You know, I heard they finally pulled -”

“Hush! He’s just a foal, let him be one for a few more hours.”

Cheese had heard it all, and more, before. He knew ponies thought he was crazy, or worse, insane. He had actually looked it up, 456 days ago. The definition of insanity was performing the same task over and over again while expecting a different result.

He supposed that maybe he was insane, for 478 days now he had performed his routine of waking up, recording remnants of dreams over warm waffles and a note from his dad before starting the journey across town.

It didn’t matter though. Today would be different, he just knew it would be, he could feel it in his heart.

Cheese neared the end of his walk and gazed upon the pristine white outsides of Ponyville General Hospital. 3,110, 3,111, 3,112, 3,113, and 3,114.

With the final step he sat down just to the side of the doors, his back to the sun. He let out a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. Now, he just had to wait.

Hours passed.

Some foals tried asking Cheese to play, but as with every day before this, he refused.

A mare offered him a water bottle, which he graciously took, but declined her offer for some ice cream.

A nurse came out on his lunch and left Cheese with a sleeve of cookies and more water. Cheese liked that nurse, he never looked down on him with sadness or pity, didn’t even talk to him; just left sweets and water.

More hours passed.

Cheese thought about the whispers he heard. He almost scoffed at the pony who ‘just wanted to help’.

Help? I don’t need any help. If they really wanted to help me, the doctor would come out with Mommy.

The day turned to dusk but still he waited, hoping. As the sun dipped below the horizon though, he sighed and called it a day. Dad would be home soon and he would be upset if he knew Cheese had spent his day here again.

He groaned as he stood up for the first time in hours, shaking his limbs out and casting one final look at the door.

But there was no doctor.

He shrugged and started home. He would be back tomorrow and maybe, just maybe, it would be different.

It has to be different. It will be different. I can feel it in my heart.

~~

Dinner was quiet, the only sounds being the soft clinks of silverware and glasses. A few times, Cheese Sandwich would look at his son and seemed on the verge of saying something, but bailed at the last second, leaving them in an awkward silence again.

It was only after the food was eaten and dishes washed that Cheese Sandwich finally had the courage to say something. “Uh, Lil’ Cheese?”

“Yeah dad?”

Cheese knelt down, placing a hoof on his son’s shoulder, as if he needed a solid anchor to the world. “I, I know I haven’t been around much, and I want to apologize for that.”

Cheesecake leaned forward and hugged his dad, “It’s okay, I’m a big boy and can take care of myself.”

“Of course you are, but, son, I heard from the school that you haven’t been seen all year. Have you been hanging around the hospital still? I know,” he paused to steel his voice, “I know you miss her but you can’t skip out on school like this.”

Cheesecake squirmed, “I was just, I wanted to be there when she left.” He hesitated, then continued in a small voice, “When do you think they’ll let her leave?”

Cheese shuddered and pulled Cheesecake even closer, trying to bury a sob. “I’m sorry Lil’ Cheese but mom, she’s not, she can’t come home.”

Cheesecake pulled back, an innocent and confused look on his face, “Of course she can, the doctors just have to let her out.” He smiled and nuzzled his dad, “It’s okay, I know she hasn’t come out yet, but tomorrow will be different, it-”

“Son that’s not-“

“-has to be. I can feel it in my heart.”