>You're hanging out in a hospital room, eating a granola bar. >Tastes like shit. >When you're sad, real sad, everything tastes like shit. No joy can be found in what you taste, it's just another thing you funnel into your mouth. >You hate food, you hate eating. You hate the effort it takes to chew, to digest, to actually be present during every moment of the process of eating. >Atleast with junk food on earth, you didn't have to think, your body would just fall into the habit of eating it. >But real food? Real food made you be present. >All Equestria has is real food. >Waves of regret come crashing in on you, deep pitch ichor waves which threaten to d r o w n you again. You are painfully present, aware of everything that's happened, exactly how you feel. You don't want to be, you want to escape so badly. >Your thoughts are cut short by a little purple unicorn trotting nervously into your room like a small, disastrously autistic child, tripping over her own hooves with each step. >"Oh-I-oh!" >She mumbles a litany of child friendly swears, the aura around her horn clutches a few items in tow, but she consistently keeps dropping them by mistake. Having trouble there? >"Ah-I-no! I'm fine!" >She insists, tilting up a pair of glasses up her snout, right before nearly dropping your... Oh-OH! Hey! >Twilight stops dead in her tracks, looking ahead at you with wide eyes. Give that to me. >"What?" That. >The little unicorns gaze follow where your finger points to, landing on your Ipod touch. >"Oh-Oh yes, this thing!" She smiled, eyes twinkling, "I wanted to ask you a bit about it maybe- what exactly IS it?" What makes you ask. >Twilight cringes a bit at your tone, which causes her to nearly drop everything she held in her aura again, earning a little 'eep' from her as she finagled herself closer to you, before finally taking a seat next to you, placing everything down but the Ipod touch. Much to your bitter annoyance. >"Well, we found it um.. in your house when...oh, oh! OH! Wait we-we- oh Mr Anonymous, we felt TERRIBLE when we found you there all alone!" What do you mean we? >"Sorry, yes, me and my friends- Applejack and Rainbow Dash-" >Your frown is eternal. I hate Rainbow Dash. >Twilight is taken aback by your comment, stopping entirely to look at you as if you'd just grown a second head. >"You can't possibly mean that, I know she can be a bit rough, but she really is a wonderful pony!" That's great to hear, really it is, still hate her. >She pouts a bit, picking up a clipboard and writing down something on there before setting it off to the side out of your view again. >"Mr Anonymous," I hate Applejack as well. >Twilight's mouth goes slack. >"Now that-" Why were you people at my house? >"You- oh...yes, um, well, we wanted to check up on you!" Nobody does that. >"Well, I do." Twilight stated matter of factly. >"You really should be more grateful we checked in on you," Twilight's voice trails off, her eyes looking away from you to the floor, the Ipod touch jiggles in her magic's grasp, "We would've never known you had that accident with your razor if we didn't." >That seems to get some of her confidence back, her gaze returning to you. >You don't smile back, returning her look with a miserable poker face and an open palm. >She sighs before that glittering purple blob of light places the device squarely into your hand, looking at it with intrigue. It plays music, if you really need to know. >Twilight's ear twitches, then her expression breaks out into a manic grin, if this were a cartoon a large exclamation mark would have appeared simultaneously over her. >"I knew it!" She exclaims, shaking her body. >"Oh I just KNEW it! I knew I heard melodies coming from it but- but Applejack said I had to be wrong." Applejack says a lot of things. >"Really? I always...nevermind- you gotta tell me, how do you make it play? What spell do you use? I never thought anything but a pony could make magic work...but then again we met Zecora and.." >"WAIT!" Twilight gasps, you secret your ipod away, and she levitates the objects she brought with her. >"We need to be serious here, I have alot to check up on with you. How are you feeling? Are your magic levels ok, did the Doctors tell you? How long is it gonna take for you to heal?" >You spend a while being harassed by Twilight, asking you question after question, most of which you give half or non answers to. You insult her several times throughout the process, trying to disrupt her, but she only ever picks up on these roughly half the time. For the most part, she is an impenetrable wall of autism, writing down data you will never see on her clipboard after each question. >It's only around the hour mark when she tries to stick a themometor in your asshole, that the hospital staff realize what she's doing and chase the unicorn out of the room, you can hear them yelling at her all the way down the hall until she's finally gone. >For a moment, the air grows oppressive, like the entire room was smiling at you, just before winking back to normalacy, like a tired old man blinking away from reality. >It makes you shudder, with a heavy breath. >Nobody else comes to visit you the rest of your stay, you're just left there in your room, looking out of the nearby window. >The ponies are convinced that you had an accident trying to shave yourself, so they don't consider this very serious, all except Twilight who takes you status as an endangered species legitimate still. But she isn't here, and you're glad for it. What business does she have talking to you the way she does? Acting like she cares? >The sky is a beautiful blue, long blades of almost azure tinted grass billow in a gentle summer breeze. Ponies, after all, do not like to eat the grass and flowers around hospitals, their superstition is that it brings evil luck. So the wild flowers and grasses grow easily and plentfiul around the building, most of the field is a wild place. >A few summer Insects dance around in the plants, some eat eachother, some eat the plants, some fuck, but they are dancing all the same in a song that is older than you. An interplay with the world around them. >It breaks your heart a little more. I'm sorry, Mom. God, fuck, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. >You turn your head away from the window, burying your face in your hands, you weep quietly in an empty hospital room. >When you're done, eyes red, you set the volume low and take solace in a sad song that plays on your Ipod touch. >You are released from the hospital later that day.