I’m not what you would call a religious person, but it seems that God granted me another day amongst the living. With that said, I have to say that I’ve endured some serious pain in my times—steel-toe boots to the gonads, broken limbs, the occasional heartbreak—but nothing like this. When I woke up in my hospital bed the next morning, I had a headache so immense that I kind of wished that I had not made it through the surgery. It didn’t help that the doctor was yammering on about how the procedure went.

“We performed a craniotomy and removed a section of your skull to gain access to the brain. The procedure was nothing like I’ve experienced before. When we reached the tum—”

My mind was elsewhere at this point. The only thing I cared about was whether or not my ‘problem’ was fixed. Dr. Herring continued on about the procedure, spitting out jargon that I neither understood nor cared about. As he went into detail about the actual removal of the tumor, I could feel my stomach performing backflips. I’ve read some detailed thriller books and seen my share of horror movies, but nothing compares to hearing about someone cutting out flesh from your own brain.

“Dr. Herring, I’m glad that the operation was a success, but I just have a couple of questions if you don’t mind,” I said, cutting him off mid-sentence. He stopped for a moment, a sign of annoyance evident across his face, before waving his hand as a signal to ask my questions.

“Go right ahead,” he grunted.

“Is the tumor fully removed?” I asked, running my hand across the back of my head. I could feel the bandages covering the affected area and bare skin, making me wince once again at the thought of someone being inside my head.

“Yes,” he answered with a nod. He pulled out a set of scans from the manilla folder under his arm, showing me the area that once had a tumor. Comparing them to the previous scans, I could set the white blotch was missing from the more recent scan. “As I was saying before, we were able to successfully remove the tumor from your temporal lobe without affecting the brainstem.”

“Will there be any side effects? Will I still have the problems I was experiencing before?” I asked, a bit worried. The doctor put his hand to his chin, deep in thought.

“You might occasionally have blurred vision, but that should clear up as the healing process comes to an end.” I didn’t notice any blurriness in my vision, but I guessed I should take his word on it. “As for the previous side-effects, you might get an occasional headache or two, but most of your problems should be non-existent.”

I couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief and sadness at the same time. My ‘problem’ was possibly cured, but at a cost. Pinkie was probably one of the greatest things to happen to me and to have her just disappear at the blink of an eye…

“Well, in short, the operation was successful and you shouldn’t have any problems. We’re going to keep you here for a few days to run some tests. In the event that you do run into a problem, I suggest you call for me immediately,” Dr. Herring said, standing up from his seat. He tucked his folder under his arm before extending his hand out for a shake. Putting on a forced smile, I grabbed the man’s hand before he was on his way.

“Oh, you have a visitor waiting,” he mentioned before exiting the doorway. “Would you like to see him or do you want to him to come back later?”

“No, it’s fine. He can come in,” I said, sitting up in my bed. The doctor nodded before allowing Mr. Offa into the room, his face beaming. Pulling up a chair, Mr. Offa took a seat beside me.

“Everything go well?” he asked, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

“Yeah.” He let out a sigh of relief, patting his trunk-like legs.

“Thank goodness.” The room grew silent, still even as we both sat there, waiting for the other to say something. Mr. Offa was the one to break the silence. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Vinny.”

As I looked up from my own hands to Mr. Offa, I could see that whatever this question was was important. Looking back to at my hands, I nodded my head.

“And that is?”

“What was it that you saw? The hallucinations, that is.” I turned back to him, staring at his now serious face.

“How did you know I had hallucinations?” I asked.

“Well, you were always talking to yourself, for one. Your eyes never stayed in one place, like you were watching something whenever you talked to me, and you ‘noticed’ things that weren’t really there,” he said, quoting “notice” with his sausage-like fingers. For a moment, I thought about it. He didn’t think I was crazy, he just thought I was sick. And, to be honest, I didn’t like lying to him any more.

“I saw something that can’t really be explained. What I saw were… ponies.” Mr. Offa furrowed his brow at my response. I continued. “It sounds completely insane. I could see and hear these cartoon creatures, but they couldn’t see or hear me. It was like living in a separate world inside our own.” Mr. Offa leaned back in his chair, looking up to the ceiling in dismay.

“That’s… something,” he muttered, scratching his chin. “What kept you from telling me about it, though? I would have found you some help earlier instead of having to wait until the last minute.”

“Because talking to imaginary ponies would get me into a looney bin,” I bluntly said, giving him a deadpan stare. He nodded his head in agreement and shrugged it off, patting me on the shoulder with his huge mitts.

“All that matters is that you’re okay now. Once you’re feeling up to par, you can come back to work. God knows we need you more than ever.” With a heavy sigh, he looked around the room as he stood up. “Well, I’m going to head back to the bakery and try to get things rolling for tomorrow. Get well soon,” he said as he walked out the room.

After Mr. Offa left, the hospital room grew rather quiet. I looked around only to realize something that I should have noticed before: there was nothing to do. There was television in the room, but after beating against the power button for five minutes, I realized it didn’t work. The only thing that was remotely entertaining in the room was a random ball I found in the drawer of the nightstand beside me. I found myself playing wall ball by myself like a socially awkward grade school student until a nurse came by and told me to knock it off.

Grabbing my journal, I began doodling around the margins of each page. It took me a while to realize it, but before I knew it, I was drawing cake on the back page, accompanied by a human and pony stick figure. My heart grew heavy as I remembered the first time Pinkie and I baked a cake together. Closing the notebook, I looked up at the ceiling in disarray. You never really appreciate something until it’s gone. And to think, all this time I was calling my hallucinations a “problem”...

“Hey, Vinny. You mind if I come in?” I could feel the blood rush to my head out of sheer anger by the familiarity in that voice. Looking towards the doorway, my eyes met with none other than Marios. He wore an obviously fake smile as his head barely poked into the room. Nodding my head, I let him in where he took a seat on the chair next to my bed. “How you holding up?”

“Fine,” I grunted, not really wanting to talk to him. He turned his head away like a frightened child, waiting for his quiet father to scold him. Silence rang in the room as we sat there, waiting for the other to respond.

“That’s… good, I guess.” The room grew quiet yet again.

“Yeah.”

“Listen, I’m sorry for what I did, Vinny. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I didn’t mean for it to happ—” He stopped as I waved my hand, trying to silence him.

“Don’t worry about it. Had you not fucked up, I probably wouldn’t have found the tumor in time and would have died a horrible, slow death.” Though it was true, that didn’t make up for the fact that I hated his guts. Call me prejudiced, but a lot of this crap that happened in my lifetime wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for that IPU group of his.

Marios shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, still not making eye contact with me. Something was on his mind and it was apparent he didn’t want to say whatever it was.

“So, Vinny. Can you still, uh, you know… see and hear them?” I looked around the room once more as if something would change at any moment. It was still the same: no ponies, no trees; nothing.

“No.” Marios’s face changed from worry to downright disappointed in a flash. A weary smile crept onto his face, but it seemed genuine compared to his previous one.

With a single nod, he stood from his seat and murmured a meek, “Okay, goodbye,” before leaving the room. I couldn’t help but feel like I might have destroyed the guy’s hopes, dreams, and possible beliefs, but something inside me told me it was for the better.

Around midday, I found myself walking aimlessly around the hospital, peeking into rooms out of curiosity. I just couldn’t be cooped up in that room for too long or else I’d go clinically insane. There’s always something about hospitals that send an eerie chill down my spine. Something about them—aside from the occasional scream for help—just irked me.

As I walked down the hallways, I found myself peeking outside out of windows, looking around for anything pony related. This hospital was on the outskirts of my city, so I had no idea where in Ponyville I was, if it did indeed exist. Scanning the land outside, I saw no signs of pony life. It was a strange feeling. I was relieved that I could no longer see them, but something inside me made me miss them.

Pressing my hand against the glass, I felt the cold seeping through and onto my fingertips. I wanted out of this place so badly, just to be entirely sure that I couldn’t see my best friend any more. Sure, I told her my goodbyes, but that didn’t make this heartache any better. I found myself staring out the window, watching the sun slowly lower over the city buildings.

“Mr. Panem?” I shook my head, breaking from my daze. One of the nurses stood beside me, holding a clipboard in her hands. “You have a visitor waiting in your room. Also, I need to run a few tests once they leave.”

Walking back to my room, I continued to look at all the other patients as I passed their rooms. Some didn’t even look like they belonged here, but the same could have been said for me if I had walked in here four days ago. The nurse would constantly check her clipboard, taking occasional glances at me out of the corner of her eye.

“What kind of tests do you need to perform?” I asked, trying to break the awkward silence between us. She looked over her clipboard once more, putting a pen to her lips.

“Standard checkup. Blood pressure, lung functionality, hernia check; the usual stuff.” I couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Not even a first date and you’re already looking to get my pants down? How lewd.” She shot me a glare so hot, I swear I could feel the heat. It was either that, or the fact that all the blood raced to my face in embarrassment after realizing what I just said. She put her nose in the air, a pout across her face.

“They don’t even do perform the test in that manner any more,” she barked, her cheeks bearing a light shade of red. I shook my head, withholding a chuckle. The nurse increase her pace, before taking a sharp turn into my room. As I enter the room, I met face to face with Fernando.

“Yo, dude, how’re you doing?” he asked, extending his fist out for a bump. I returned the gesture and sat on the edge of my bed.

“I’m alright. Living another day.” He gave me a nod, a cheesy smile plastered across his face. Something was up; Fernando only gave me that smile when he was up to no good. He leaned in close, opening his jacket just enough so that the nurse couldn’t see. Inside his jacket was an unopened bottle of whiskey, barely concealed by a brown paperbag. I found myself resisting the urge to smack his upside the head, but I didn’t want to get the idiot in trouble.

“No,” I whispered, giving him a deathly glare.

Fernando rolled his eyes, muttering what sounded like, “Square,” before zipping his jacket back up. “Alright, man, just came by to see how you were doing. I gotta get going. I’ll catch you later.” I nodded my head, knowing his true intentions. He just wanted to get drunk with me as a ‘celebration’. The man was willing to get drunk over anything: bar mitzvahs, winning a scratch-off lottery ticket; hell, I think he’d get drink just to celebrate not dying in his sleep.

The nurse performed her usual procedures and, to be honest, I was a little disappointed she didn’t touch my balls and make me cough. It had been forever since I had any action and I was starting to get desperate. As the sun went down and the moon came up, I tucked myself into my bed and looked into my journal once more, staring at the doodle of Pinkie and me. My eyelids began to droop as exhaustion finally caught with me.

“I wonder what Pinkie would be up to right about now?” I asked myself, closing my eyes.

“I could find out for you if you’d like.” My eyes shot open as I met with those tangelo-colored eyes from so many nights before met mine once more. A minty green pony approached me before extending her hoof out for a shake. “Lyra Heartstrings, at your service!”

Author's Notes:

Okay, break's over.

Also, EqD denied my submission. Kind of glad they did.