Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.

Roiling heat swam over Ponyville, smearing its hateful gauntlet over the ground. Shimmering waves far in the sunny distance shook feverishly, as if the horizon were beginning to collapse in on itself.

The nigh insufferable intensity of the summer permeated every aspect of life in Ponyville, and the sweltering heat didn’t help matters. Nearly every day was spent vainly wishing that the local weather patrol would pick up the pace and start another rainstorm, anything for some cool water; but, of course, such things were considered too frivolous during a drought. Cheerilee sincerely hoped that it would rain, even though she knew the chances were phenomenally slim.

Maybe tomorrow.

The sound of busy Ponyville life filled the air and danced lightly over the treetops, barely reaching the dusty red painted schoolhouse. Cheerilee wiped her brow as she stood before the closed door, growing slick with sweat as she fought the urge to scratch her itchy head again. The magenta mare miserably cast a pained, longing look back up at the stiffly hanging crimson flag in the dead and browned front yard, not even bothering to flap about once or twice with the futile hope of stray wind.

Just another day of summer school, she was stressed for nothing. Stress made mess. So much stress.

She furrowed her brows, glaring down at the wooden slats of the schoolhouse’s front porch in concentration. They were worn with the trampling of hooves and in desperate need of repair, the polish long eroded.

Cheerilee took a couple of deep breaths, flattened her mane and cleared her throat, the unnaturally strong scent of mint on her breath making her wrinkle her nose. She ignored the slight irritation in her eyes as she took a quick little swig from her dull grey flask, slipping it back into her saddlebag before swiftly munching a few more mint leaves. Although the bitter taste made her shudder, she fought through the foul combination and popped a few more leaves into her mouth. The dully thumping headache between her eyes could be shrugged off for now. She cleared her mind and calmed herself, smiling wide as she pressed open the door and into the room full of chatting foals.

“Alright, alright!” Cheerilee spoke too loudly as she entered, the heavy schoolhouse door swinging shut with a loud snap. Darkness instantly enveloped the room once again in a manner that strongly reminded her of a sarcophagus, as if she were being sealed in with no chance of escape. She instantly found herself fighting off the urge to prop the door back open in the hopes of inviting in the nonexistent wind, or even if only to ward off her random burst of claustrophobia.

The gossip and prattle of the colts and fillies did not die down at all, seemingly as if she hadn’t even entered at all.

“Everypony, quiet down now…!” she forced her smile again tiredly, taking her seat behind her desk. “Come along, that’s quite enough-”

A wadded ball of paper flew up from the group of perhaps a dozen, smacking defiantly against the blackboard behind her and falling crumpled to the floor.

Cheerilee stupid little brats sighed quietly through her nostrils, staring flatly at her class. She wasn’t all that surprised to see Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon sitting sniggering behind their hooves at the back of the class, clearly paying as little attention as everypony else. Which was mostly what had gotten them all into summer school in the first place, really. I don’t even know why I do this anymore, nopony learns anything.

“Does anypony want to tell me who threw that?” Cheerilee asked wearily, sliding her saddlebag off and dropping it beside her wooden desk. There was no answer never an answer, never and the silence slowly fell over the class like a veil, leaving the whole room uncomfortably quiet as she stared at their little faces.

Somepony coughed.

The dim sunlight leaking through the heavy cloth curtains trickled in a thin patch onto the floor, casting just enough light for Cheerilee to make towards it and fling the drapes wide open. The dust motes dancing in the air fell gracelessly as the gust of warm air from her motion shoved them about, and Cheerilee wasted no time in hauling out her thick agenda binder from her saddlebag.

Another wadded chunk of paper slapped the chalkboard the moment she looked away from them, dropping with a tumble to the floor to join its brother.

“That’s enough,” Cheerilee pursed her lips, turning a hardened eye toward the giggling ponies. “I know that you threw that, Rumble – Diamond Tiara, I can see you talking to Silver Spoon behind your hoof, it’s plain as day!”

Cheerilee bit back her anger with a pained look, clenching her jaw.

“Pick up your mess, Rumble,” she exhaled eventually, taking a seat behind her desk.

“I didn’t throw anything,” one of the pegasus colts crossed his forelegs defiantly. “You can’t prove anything.”

“Rumble, you stupid arrogant little monster get up here and pick up your mess right now, or you’ll be staying after school as well!” she raised her voice, the pricking between her eyes beginning to throb even worse.

The colt huffed loudly in disgust, but finally dragged himself from behind his desk at a painfully slow crawl taking his sweet damned time just to delay class further, of course he is and scooped up both wads of paper, chucking them hatefully into the bin beside her desk before throwing himself hastily back into his seat.

“Now, is everypony ready for class to fucking finally begin?” Cheerilee asked with forced enthusiasm, wanting no more than to slam her binder shut and walk out the door. It was clear from the looks on their faces that they didn’t want to be cramped up in the hot little building for summer school, no more than she did. But it had been decided on the parts of their parents that due to their grades they would not be prepared for the next year, meaning that the extra workload was delegated to Cheerilee to help them catch up.

Of course, she was only too happy to oblige.

She had to be. It was her destiny to do so.

Cheerilee stared numbly at her flaking brown wallpaper, the fading little green and yellow lilies decorating the wall with their smiles.

She hated those fake, plastic smiles.

Crickets chirped and crooned beneath her kitchen windowsill, croaking their music into the air for nopony. Cheerilee almost envied them, for a moment. To sing and play their little hearts out for only themselves, with no worries at all.

She wordlessly poured herself another shot glass half full of the smoky amber bourbon, emptily sliding the pearly sheets around the table. The rustling jabbed dully at her ears, which interrupted her thoughts again. Frowning, Cheerilee took a hard swig and swallowed swiftly, letting the warmth seep down her throat and back up into her face, warming her chest.

She let out a quiet, shuddering breath as she checked off another failed test, noting that Diamond Tiara had copied completely entirely off of Silver Spoon.

Again.

Failed. Failed. Failed. Almost passed, still failed. Failed.

It was like they didn’t even want to learn anymore just like I don’t want to keep doing this anymore. And with each failing grade, Cheerilee found herself that much more infuriated. They just didn’t care because nopony really caresabout their own grades, it didn’t bother any of them in the slightest that they weren’t going to be prepared for the future. It didn’t bother them of course not,about whether or not her very happiness hanged on the balance of whether or not she could successfully teach, in order to give them the futures they in turn needed to find their own happiness.

And she tried so hard, so hard to make sure that they were equipped with the knowledge required to mature, to grow like they needed to and they’re all too stupid to ever grow up and begin the cycle over again.

Cheerilee took a deep breath, tasting the sweet tang of the aged bourbon on her lips before rubbing her eyes and brushing her mane tiredly from her face again.

The heavy tunk of empty glass hitting the table twinged painfully against her ears, and she vaguely recognized that she had already pushed herself over her tolerance limit.

Again.

She angrily ground her teeth in denial of the ensuing hangover that would come as a result. Cheerilee forced herself away from the shot glass and half empty, tawny beaker with the opaque liquid calling her soothingly toward it. She could do without, the only thing that mattered was finishing her student’s grades for the day and preparing for the next, which was sure to arrive all too soon.

Her drubbing headache ground away mercilessly between her eyes it will never end, you know it won’t and she popped another pair of painkillers, washing the bitter taste of the tablets down with her drink.

Cheerilee poured herself another glass, cupping it in her hoof afterwards and staring longingly at the walls again as the heat blossomed into her. She was only going to begin the cycle again never escape and repeat the next day over. It didn’t matter if it was summer school or not; every season, all year, every year. Over and over again, completely unchanging. Oh, the faces changed – sometimes she taught different classes, even the occasional night course for the mares and stallions that had signed up for it.

Another night class next week Celestia, I don’t want to deal with those morons that’s still not prepared for.

She found herself agitatedly pouring herself another glass, furrowing her brows in mild confusion and irritation as the tip of the bottle just barely missed the glass. Precious droplets of bourbon splashed out uncontrollably, spilling over the papers.

Cheerilee swore loudly, slamming the bottle back onto the table and jerking the papers up as swiftly as possible, shaking and fanning them violently to let them dry. The stinging in her eyes and her unnaturally pounding heartbeat made her shake, and it was a long few minutes before she finally threw the sheets back onto the table in disgust, long since unable to salvage them.

You’re a failure.

Cheerilee blew out another long breath, exhaustedly sweeping the papers together and jamming them all into her saddlebag.

They could be graded the next day, it was a weekend. It was a weekend, wasn’t it? Don’t remember and she was stressed for nothing. It would be fine, everything would be fine if I could just stop crying and she just had to ride it out, the alcohol was interfering with her thought processes. It had to have been, and she convinced herself of this thoroughly as she dragged herself onto her creaky living room sofa and collapsed, facedown onto the cushions.

Maybe tomorrow things would seem brighter.

Maybe tomorrow.

Another weak moan escaped her lips as her mind refused to allow her to rest. It was only Thursday you incompetent bitch no relief at all to let the darkness envelop her, and only became harder to breathe until she finally let her head flop over to the side. Cheerilee huddled on the couch, one eye blearily staring at her worn coffee table. It was so hot that she temporarily entertained the notion that the cool surface might be more comfortable to lie against, but the rickety thing would probably break beneath her already dwindling weight.

She only continued to stare with half lidded eyes, dully letting the bourbon sooth her.

It didn’t, of course.

She only felt a bit queasy, and her mind was sluggish from all the stress, I can’t have had that much to drink as ever. Cheerilee halfheartedly tucked her legs a little closer so that she wouldn’t fall off the couch, already anticipating the ensuing morning.

Or was it already the next day?

Have to finish the papers, worthlessCheerilee let out another slightly muffled moan, desperately wishing for sleep.

Chances were high that she wouldn’t be doing much sleeping tonight anyway. Maybe tomorrow.

Cheerilee sniffled miserably as the cool breeze wafting through the open window tickled her nose, and made the hackles on her back raise uncomfortably. The oncoming rainstorm being slowly crowded together by Ponyville’s weather team built gradually as more of the rumbling clouds were guided into position, and Cheerilee turned her eyes from the murky sky and toward her desk. The little apple shaped egg timer sitting just on the corner ticked away the minutes, the time crawling by at a snail’s pace.

Her tongue felt thick and fuzzy in her mouth, and she made sure to stick another hoofful of mint leaves between her teeth and chew carefully before speaking.

The sound of scritching and scrabbling of pencils on paper made her want to dig at her ears to make it stop, but she fought the urge once again. Cheerilee quietly closed her binder as her students scratched at their tests, and she tried to ignore the murmuring coming from the back of the room.

“Might I remind everypony,” Cheerilee pushed for a small, tired smile. “If anypony is caught cheating, all those involved will receive failing grades.”

Much to her dismay, over half of the students in the room suddenly froze, and a boiling mixture of disappointment, despair and anger rose in her chest all at once. She indignantly ground her teeth, her headache pounding at her skull like a miner in a quarry, steadily going deeper. Distracting herself with a silent breath of dissatisfaction, Cheerilee dug through her saddlebag and pulled out a couple of mint leaves.

The clanging and clashing of the depleted egg timer made Cheerilee jump, and she viciously snagged it and jammed the still ringing clock back into her desk drawer. Slamming the drawer with a quick shove, Cheerilee wildly jerked her head back up to the class, forcing herself to beam at the staring students.

She tapped her hoof because I’m tense. Watching. Judging. They all know what a fraud you are. Failure. I hate them for seeing me like that, I hate against the side of her wooden desk a couple of times.

“All right, class!” she yanked her smile a little wider, showing more teeth. “Turn in your tests on the Treaty of Neighpon now, time is up. Please make sure that your name is on the top, and everypony have a nice weekend-”

Cheerilee didn’t even bother to try to make herself heard, as the vast number of them made too much noise with their chairs and rustling, in combination with the sudden painfully loud burst of chatter as they filed out the door that she doubted anypony heard her anyway. It isn’t like anypony fucking cares anymore, anyway gradually became quieter as she was left all alone, the jabbering making her want to squeeze her head to block out the noise and prevent her slamming headache from growing worse. She wanted to throw things at them to make them stop being so loud, wanted to gnash her teeth in agitation.

She didn’t do any of those things, of course.

Cheerilee reservedly waited until the last of her class had filed out, excitedly taking off through the pre-storm weather before she finally pulled the glass bottle of over the counter painkillers from her bag, dry swallowing a few. She had her nearly empty flask up to her lips and was eager for the fluid to help down the pills when the schoolhouse door came swinging back open. Cheerilee choked as she scrabbled to hide the flask, Silver Spoon standing blankly in the doorway.

“Ye-yes? What? What is it?” Cheerilee choked, jamming the opened flask back into her saddlebag with shaking hooves. Silver Spoon just standing there like a fucking brick watched her with an unrecognizable look in her eyes, something that made Cheerilee even more uneasy.

“Um, Miss Cheerilee,” the grey filly shifted awkwardly, eyes traveling back and forth between her teacher and her opened bag. “I was – I was just wondering, um…”

“Yes? I’m for Celestia’s sake, just spit it out listening, Silver,” she tried not to slur as her student approached a bit more enthusiastically.

Cheerilee tried not to shy away from her, refusing to acknowledge her own humiliation when the filly’s nose wrinkled slightly at the blatant scent of alcohol.

“Uh, well, actually,” Silver Spoon faltered. “It-it isn’t really important-”

“I will listen if you have something to say, dearie,” Cheerilee forced an unnaturally large smile, forcing herself not to grit her teeth as Silver dragged out her words. Deliberately, no doubt, just wants to waste my time.

Silver Spoon opened and closed her mouth twice more before even saying anything, and Cheerilee tried to nonchalantly grab a few more mint leaves as she vainly hid the glinting flask beneath some of her papers.

“Um, well. I was just wondering if you we could have a – another extension on our homework…”

Homework? What homew-“Yeah. Yes, sure,” Cheerilee rasped and nodded impatiently, shooing the filly out. “It’s fine, it’s fine, just make sure to turn it in on Monday, ‘kay?” she bit back a hiccup, and Silver turned away from her bloodshot gaze.

“Okay, thank you,” she added lifelessly as she slipped back out the door, letting it slam shut with an earsplitting bang.

Cheerilee tried not to cringe as her head twanged at the noise, and let out a small whimper while she massaged her temples.

She chewed her lower lip and let out another sigh as a little drizzle began leaking in through the open window, wetting the sill and floor. Cheerilee made no move to bother closing the window, however. She didn’t move from her desk at all. She simply emptied her flask without expression, disappointed when it was drained. The scratch of her own red tipped pencil on paper was buried beneath the sound of slowly growing rain, but Cheerilee still felt like she could hear the noise. Almost as if the sound itself were ingraining right into her ears under the sound of rain, fighting to worm its way into her head to make her headache worse.

She ignored it all, hurriedly scribbling at one after another as she checked her-

The snap of the pencil resounded like a whip crack through the empty schoolhouse, which was afterwards followed by the low rumble of thunder.

Cheerilee stared dimly at the broken tool, eyes burning as a lump hardened in her throat. She viciously threw the stick at the ground, where it rolled unsatisfyingly against the wall as she cried.

She stop it! Stop crying, bungling… stupid, it’s just a pencil, stop it! released a breathy and tormented whine, grinding her hooves against her temples just before letting her head thump against her paper coated desk.

The drizzle and occasional fleck of rain slapped against her now and then, but Cheerilee didn’t care. She only closed her eyes, rancorous and mashing thoughts gnawing at her and vying for space in her consciousness while she tried to clear her head.

Only the intermittent grumble of growling thunder and the pitter patter of rain accompanied Cheerilee on her journey to the land of hazy dreams, infrequently pulled from them as she was by her weak attempts to continue grading the wet papers with a broken pencil.

Maybe she would look back on this and laugh tomorrow.

Maybe she could stop sobbing into her hooves tomorrow.

Maybe tomorrow it make more sense.

Maybe tomorrow.

Author's Notes:

Tell your teacher just how much you appreciate them today.

You don't have any idea just how much it really means to them.