Drowning Lessons - Ep. 1: Just Fine...


                                            >Drowning.

                                            >How strange, you are aware that you're asleep.

                                            >Aware that you are drowning.

                                            >As a calmness sets over you (a calmness only taken after horrid extended moments of struggling), a sharp noise comes to your ear.

                                            >It's a familiar beep.

                                            >You bolt upright in bed and gasp as though you've broken waters surface.

                                            >The alarm clock is blaring from your bedside table.

                                            >Daylight filters into your dark room from around the edges of the blanket you've hung up specifically to block it out.

                                            >Still breathing heavily and slightly sweaty, you run your hooves through your messy black and pink mane, down your face.

                                            >The dream of drowning in your sleep comes often.


                                            *Journal entry 1 - I think I will die one night in my sleep. I think I will drown in my sleep and never wake up.*


                                            >You flop back down in bed and roll over, burying your face into your pillow and slapping a hoof on the snooze button of your alarm clock.

                                            "I'm not going to school today..."

                                            >You huff into your pillow, already feeling the usual ennui that smothers you through the days.

                                            "I'm not going to school. I'm not going to school. I'm not going to school-"

                                            >"ERI!" Your mother's voice carries sharply from downstairs.

                                            >With a sigh, you roll your head to the side, cheek against pillow.

                                            "WHAT?!"

                                            >"GET UP! GET READY FOR SCHOOL!"

                                            >In the silence, you stare at your bedroom wall.


                                            *Journal entry 2 - I want to drown in my sleep.*


                                            >Autumn is simultaneously your most and least favorite season.

                                            >The pros: the melancholy atmosphere and lack of sunshine.

                                            >The cons: a new year of school.

                                            >Currently, school is three weeks in.

                                            >Nothing has changed from your first year of high school.

                                            >As you plod along the path covered with leaves of autumn shades, you pull your scarf tighter around your muzzle and turn up the music blasting through your headphones.

                                            >Your stomach grumbles already from a lack of breakfast.

                                            >Dinner last night was skipped as well.

                                            >But that was because you spent an extra long time in the shower, cleaning glue and mud from your mane.

                                            >Movement ahead catches your attention and you look up.

                                            >Coco Pommel stands just ahead, waving at you.


                                            *Journal entry 3 - Coco Pommel is a pretty mare a grade above me. She is nice to me and we exchange greetings whenever our paths cross. My mother knows hers from their book club, so we have been loose acquaintances for a few years.*


                                            >"Hello!" Coco greets cheerily as you walk up and pause your music.

                                            >You mumble out a greeting, observing her outfit.

                                            >Coco likes to wear clothes and even makes some of her own; like the mint green scarf she's wearing now.

                                            >Polar opposites.

                                            >The only thing the two of you have in common, is that you breathe.

                                            >She is fashionable, talented, cheery, pretty and just shy enough to be the masturbation material of every male at school.

                                            >"It's cold today," She unnecessarily comments.

                                            >You nod while resuming your walk.

                                            >Like most of the time the two of you walk together, she doesn't say anything else.

                                            >It's one thing that's nice about being around Coco.

                                            >You don't have to talk.

                                            >When you reach the school, she walks in a different direction.

                                            >"Have a good day, Miss Eri."

                                            >You don't say anything and turn your music back on as you walk into hollow halls.


                                            ~~~


                                            *Journal entry 4 - IshouldhavedrownedIshouldhavedrownedIshouldhave-*


                                            >There's a sound of a steady water drip that reverberates around the bathroom.

                                            >You sit on the toilet, in stall three.

                                            >During first period, you took a pass to the bathroom.

                                            >It must be well into second period by now.

                                            >Of course, you took your saddle bag with you.

                                            >Today is the day you started keeping a journal, and currently you are writing some of your thoughts in it.

                                            >The water dripping makes you think back to this morning's dream.

                                            >You stop writing and look down at the dirty tiles.

                                            >Why is it that those other ponies get to sit in those classes with their friends, laughing and falling in love; while you sit here in this leaky bathroom, pouring your feelings into a journal that nopony will ever read, or understand even if they could?

                                            >It's because-

                                            >The door to the bathroom opens.

                                            >Your legs automatically draw up above the toilet as shrill voices now fill the bathroom.

                                            >A sinking feeling much like drowning takes hold of your guts.

                                            >Why did they have to come here?

                                            >You close your eyes and lean your head against the wall, focusing on Coco Pommel's pretty scarf.

                                            >It was so much cleaner and better looking than your black tattered scarf and-

                                            >The mare voices fade as they leave the bathroom.

                                            >You sigh in relief and begin to pack your stuff.

                                            >It must be time for third period to start soon.

                                            >You get up and open the door of the stall.

                                            >"I thought I smelled something disgusting in here."

                                            >You stop, that sinking feeling shooting back in your intestines.

                                            >Trying to close yourself back in the stall quickly, your mane is grabbed and you are roughly pulled back out into the open bathroom.

                                            >A second set of hooves pushes your side and you fall to the ground.

                                            >Trixie Lulamoon sneers down at you, "Oh look! She got our decorations out of her mane."

                                            >Vinyl Scratch pushes on your side again, keeping a hoof on you to hold you down on the cold wet floor. "Aw, we worked so hard to make your mane pretty and you go and make it all ugly again."

                                            >The two of them laugh.

                                            >You know Flitter is outside, making sure no ponies try to use this bathroom while her friends have their way with you.

                                            >You also know by now to not say anything.

                                            >Instead, you gaze with no emotion at the wall where pipes from the leaky sink connect.

                                            >Trixie grabs a clump of your mane and tugs hard, making your eyes water.

                                            >You don't give her the satisfaction of wincing.

                                            >"Your mane is hideous. Do you think this obnoxious pink dye is fashionable or something?"

                                            >Vinyl is crushing your ribs, "I saw her walking with Coco Pommel today. Maybe she thinks she's a fashionista too!"

                                            >Trixie's horn glows, "That's pathetic. Your fashion is dead."

                                            >Out of the corner of your eye, you see a pair of scissors floating toward you, enchanted by magic.

                                            >"Hold her still, Vinyl. Trixie's going to give this fashion faux pas a little help."

                                            >A lock of your mane slips between the blades of the scissors and Trixie moves her face inches from yours.

                                            >"Thank me for helping you."

                                            >Her voice is like ice in your blood.

                                            >Vinyl stomps on your ribs, and this time you can't help but cry out in pain.

                                            "Th-Thank you!"

                                            >They both laugh.

                                            >"You're the most pathetic piece of garbage right now! 'Thank you! Th-Th-Thank youuuuuu!' Hahaha!"

                                            >As you start to let yourself weep, a commotion breaks out just outside the bathroom door.

                                            >Flitter's voice calls out from outside, "No! You can't- TRIXIE! INCOMING!"

                                            >Trixie and Vinyl jump away from you and the scissors fall to the floor.

                                            >Vinyl hisses at you, "Get up, now!"

                                            >You sniffle and pull yourself up using the sink.

                                            >Just as you stand, the door burts open.


                                            *Journal entry 5 - Anonymous is the only human I know of in Equestria. He's a very large almost monkey-like creature that is in the same grade as me. I have never spoken to him and assume he is as terribly mean as he always looks.*


                                            >Anon bursts through the door, kicking it open with a powerful sock-and-sandle combo foot.

                                            >Your heart skips a beat.

                                            >He's here to save you.

                                            >To pull you from the water and resuscitate your dying body on the shore-

                                            >"I'M SORRY! I AM SORRY!" He yelps and runs into one of the stalls and closes himself inside.

                                            >You all stare at the door, dumbfounded.

                                            >Trixie shakes her head, "EXCUSE me, this is the MARE'S bathroom!"

                                            >The answer she gets is the impressive sound of bowels releasing into a toilet.

                                            >The three of you back away.

                                            >Anon groans from inside the stall, "I'm sorry... This is an emergency..."

                                            >Your two tormentors make disgusted noises and push past you, leaving the bathroom.

                                            >As the door closes, you're left alone with the sounds of a human in pain in the now horrible smelling bathroom.

                                            >If you leave now, Trixie and her friends will be waiting for you.

                                            >Probably with more glue and mud to 'decorate' your mane with.

                                            >So instead, you awkwardly begin putting makeup on in the mirror, trying to ignore Anon's sounds of pain.

                                            >It's not hard when you see your reflection.

                                            >Your mane is a mess.

                                            >Makeup runs down your face from where you've cried.

                                            >It looks like-

                                            "I'm drowning..."

                                            >The toilet flushes behind you and you see the stall door open in the reflection of the mirror.

                                            >You try your hardest to be invisible as Anonymous walks toward you.

                                            >This is the closest you've ever been to him and he looks even more intimidating up close.

                                            >He smiles awkwardly at you and goes to the sink next to you to wash his hands.

                                            >"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have eaten that yogurt for breakfast..."

                                            >Casting a quick glance at him, then back at your reflection, you see that he looks embarrassed.

                                            >It's a vast difference to the somber expression he usually wears.

                                            >He looks over at you as he dries his hands, "Hey, are you okay?"

                                            >You blush intensly.

                                            "I was j-just washing my f-face..."

                                            >Like an idiot, you start to slap water onto your face.

                                            "See?"

                                            >You look at him and he freezes with an open mouth.

                                            >Looking back at yourself, you see you've only smeared your makeup worse.

                                            >Anonymous laughs, "That's cool. You might need some soap or something."

                                            >Cool?

                                            >Where were the words of piercing belittlement?

                                            >Waiting for his laugh of amusement to turn hateful, you scrub soap over your face, then rinse while drowning in embarrassment.

                                            >Anon tosses his paper towel into the trash, "Well, sorry for uh... Yeah. See ya around."

                                            >With that, the human leaves the bathroom.

                                            >A great gust of air escapes your diaphragm and you realize you've been holding your breath.

                                            >You look in the mirror again.

                                            >Now you have no makeup on and your mane hangs limp and dripping around your face.

                                            "Drowned..."

                                            >After drying off with paper towels, you gather courage and peer out of the bathroom into the hall.

                                            >It's completely devoid of life.

                                            >Feeling relieved, you scurry out of the bathroom and head for your class, holding back more tears.


                                            *Journal entry 6 - I am scared of drowning. I am so afraid of drowning alone. Please, somepony... Anypony: Don't let me drown alone...*


                                            https://youtu.be/1f--4iDTr_k