GREEN
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1710 9.36 KB 183
1710 9.36 KB 183
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>You overslept, you never oversleep.
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>However, you don’t feel any fear.
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>You feel empty and sad instead.
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>How are you even worse than yesterday?
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“This has never happened before, I must be sick.”
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>Though you check your temperature, it still says normal like yesterday.
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“I don’t understand.”
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>As you hold the thermometer, you feel yourself start to tear up.
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“Why? I’m not sick, but I feel awful.”
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>You barely hold back the tears.
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“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s all going to be okay Connie.”
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>Slowly, you breath in and out in to reel yourself in.
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“I’ll visit the doctor, they will give me something to fix this. I just have to make it through today.”
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>Though you’ve managed to push back, the weight is still within you.
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>You go grab the mail and hopefully try to distract yourself.
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“Bills, more letters from friends, none from Eri still.”
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>As you head back to your apartment, you feel worse.
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>’She probably hates you.’
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“Why? I’ve been a good friend to her. I visit when I can.”
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>’But are you there when she needs you like a good friend does?’
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“I reach out to her when ever I can. I can’t be there all the time.”
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>’Then you’re not her real friend.’
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“That’s not true, I am her best friend!”
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>As you breath heavier, you look around and see a few of your neighbors staring.
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“Uh, sorry. Everything is fine, nothing to see here.”
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>Flushed with embarrassment, you enter your apartment and go through the letters.
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>All have wished you success with your new position, and mention their own events.
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“At least they are doing well.”
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>You try to write them back, but lack the will.
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>So you go grab some pills and take them with tea.
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“I shouldn’t be taking these so much, but I have to focus today.”
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>Hopefully this will give you what you need to get through.
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>Slowly, you feel the effects kick in.
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>While it does give you energy, you don’t feel happier.
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>You write a few letters before losing more motivation.
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“Doesn’t matter, I’ll practice and get things done.”
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>Sitting down on the couch, you start to play.
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>Even with the pills, your music suffers.
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>You can barely manage to play now.
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>It’s definitely worse than last nights playing.
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>’You’re going to screw up the concert tonight.’
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>The thought causes you skip a note and you feel frustrated.
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“Why do I keep thinking like this? Where do these damn thoughts keep coming from?”
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>You don’t usually allow yourself to use crass language, but you’ve just about had enough.
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“Breath Connie, let’s try again.”
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>Readjusting, you play once more.
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>The notes flow freely again, though they lack emotion.
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>They feel hollow, like you.
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>You struggle against this tide of negativity, and can barely play.
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>This isn’t going to cut it.
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>If you try to play tonight, you’re liable to disrupt the symphony.
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>You set down your violin and try to figure out what to do.
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“I can’t just call it quits yet. I can do this, just need to focus and give it my all.”
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>With that, you push yourself.
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>You won’t give up, so you play again.
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>This time, it’s more passable.
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>Though you’re certain you can push yourself enough to make it better.
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>As the time grows closer, you gather your things and head out.
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>You get a taxi and think along the way.
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>I can do this, I can play this concert.
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>’You’re going to screw it up.’
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>No I won’t, I’ve worked too hard for this.
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>’That’s why you’re going to fail. You’ve gone too far with all this.’
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>I may have pushed myself recently, but I can do this, I’ve done it before.
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>’When’s the last time you got three hours of sleep a night for weeks straight?’
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>I...It was a fluke, there is nothing wrong.
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>”Here we are ma’am.”
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>You shake your head, pay your fair, and head inside.
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>Can’t keep doing this, just take another pill, that will help.
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>Ignoring the various ponies you pass by, you reach the restroom and take some pills with water.
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>’Not a very bright idea Connie.’
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>I need this, I can’t screw this up.
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>You close your eyes and take a breath, then release it slowly.
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>Tonight will go as planned.
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>leaving the restroom, you head back to the dressing room to finish getting ready.
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>As you finish you find your heart is starting to race.
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>Closing your eyes, you try to focus on slowing it.
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>”Connie?”
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>Opening them back up, you see Feather looking at you with concern.
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“Hey there Feather, tonight’s the final night.”
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>”Are you okay, because you’re breathing pretty heavy.”
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>Damn it, you didn’t realize you were so loud.
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“Yeah! Just bringing myself into focus like I always do.
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>’Liar.’
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>You force a smile to hopefully persuade her.
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>”Okay, didn’t know you did that, but that explains why you come out after we do.”
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>Thank Celestia she bought it.
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“Yeah, it’s just another way to give me a boost.”
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>”Maybe I should try that.”
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>’Maybe you should stop lying Connie.’
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“It might work for you, who knows?”
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>You see other members heading out and you must prepare as well.
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“Well, shall we?”
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>Feather raises an eyebrow before realizing what you mean.
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>”Mhm, see you out there.”
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>As she leaves, your heart is still racing.
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>’This isn’t going to help you.’
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>I just need to focus like I did earlier, it has to be passable.
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>’No longer settling for perfect? How pathetic.’
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>Anger starts to swell within you.
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>’You know you’re going to mess this all up. Your first ruined concert.’
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>No I won’t.
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>’Just wait and see Connie, you’re about to fail.’
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>You squeeze your eyes shut and shudder.
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>Slowly, you reopen them and head out.
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>Other members are warming up and you join them.
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>Hooves shake from the pills and you barely can hold your violin steady.
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>Breath Connie, you can do this.
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>As Quiet joins you all, you feel more fear grow within.
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>The first half begins.
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>You play, though not as well as you have before.
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>’You’re going to mess up.’
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>Hooves are still shaking, heart is still racing, you’re sweating.
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>The half way point approaches and your losing focus.
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>Can’t mess up now, just reach intermission and you can rest.
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>Fate isn’t so kind.
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>Your desperate attempt to focus causes you mess up.
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>You freeze, all eyes are on you aren’t they?
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>Heart is pounding in your ears now.
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>Ears are twitching.
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>’Told you that you would ruin this. Look at what you did.’
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>You’re sitting there, frozen.
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>Zoning out in horror, you fail to notice that the others are still playing.
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>’Such a failure, you finally screwed up everything Connie.’
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>The music is still playing, but without you.
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>Intermission finally arrives and you feel somepony touch you.
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>Finally pulled out of whatever state you were in, you see Quiet and Friedrich talking to you.
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>Their lips move, but you hear no words at first.
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>”Connie? What happened?”
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>>”I think she needs a doctor.”
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>As Friedrich goes to move, you shoot up out of your seat and gallop to the dressing room.
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>You slam the door behind you, take a few steps, and collapse in a pile.
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>Tears cascade down your face, and you bury yourself in your hooves.
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>’I told you that you this would happen, but did you listen? No, now you screwed things up for everypony.’
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“No”
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>’You think this is going to end well? Face it Connie, you blew it.’
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“I didn’t mean to, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
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>The door opens, and you freeze, trying not to make a sound.
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>You fail at that, a few sniffles escape.
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>”There you are! It’s alright, I found her. Connie? Can you hear me?”
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>It’s Quiet, you don’t want to look at her.
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>”I don’t know what happened out there, but do you need a doctor?”
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>You can’t ignore her.
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>As you answer, your voice is a little hoarse.
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“I don’t know. Something is wrong with me.”
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>She sits next to you and sighs.
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>”Connie, we all mess up. While I don’t know what’s going on with you, do you think you can handle the second half?”
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>’She only cares about herself, she doesn’t care about you.’
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>You should answer her.
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“I don’t think I can.”
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>She is quiet for a moment.
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>”Alright, we will manage, take some time off and get a hold of us when you find out what’s wrong.”
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>You nod slowly.
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>The tears have finally stopped.
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>”Do you think you can make it home?”
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“Yes.”
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>She gets up and leaves you alone.
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>Time sits still for you.
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>At last, you slowly stand and go grab your things.
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>You violin and case are sitting near the door, somepony must’ve put them there.
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>As you trudge outside, you feel like garbage.
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>It’s raining, of course it is.
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>You avoid looking at other ponies and get a taxi home.
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>Mind is blank along the way, and you say nothing.
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>When the taxi stops, you hoof him some bits without bothering to count.
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>The climb up the stairs feels like you’re climbing a cliff.
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>Tears start to come loose again.
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>Not like you care anymore.
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>You close the door behind you and drop your things by the door.
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>Dragging your hooves you make it to the bathroom.
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>Your reflection is awful.
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>Mascara stains your cheeks, eyes are blood shot, looks like you got flank hoofed to you.
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>Without warning, you sob.
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“Why did this happen to me? I did nothing wrong!”
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>For a while, you lean against the sink, crying.
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“Why?”
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>It’s getting harder to stay awake, feeling so heavy.
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>Slowly, you move to the bedroom and collapse on the bed.
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>You curl up in a ball, crying yourself to sleep.
by NHanon
by NHanon
by NHanon
by NHanon
by NHanon