Prologue

It always starts with something stupid, doesn't it?

I thought these kind of situations are only in the dramatic and drastic books and plays. The ones where the mare only gets to this point because she's ignorant enough to let her ex-stallion friend control her life. Or the ones where the best friend is actually a bully, and never lets the mare accomplish anything. 

And yet, here I am. Plopped on the blandest couch I've ever seen with an annoying ticking still dinging through my ears. 

I would say I'm bored, but boredom doesn't begin to describe the roller coaster of emotions I've felt ever since I got here. 

I guess I ran out of things to feel...maybe?

Dr. Clara's mouth is still moving, word by word getting pieced together into strands of stretched out sentences that were blander than this couch. If I wasn't trying to be nice, I would've mimicked every word she's saying, only because she's said it about a million times before. 

Then again, she says everything about a million times. And does the same things repeatedly. Just like how she repainted her walls with a fresh coat of the same hideous orange, with rainbow's dancing in the background. 

No joke, the rainbows are actually dancing. 

It's not that I mind bright colors; I love pastel's as much as the next pony. But when somepony overuses 'cute' rainbow's that clash with an orange background, it makes me want to throw up. 

Sorry, it's just not my thing.

"Misti? Misti are you listening to me?"

Snapping out of my thoughts on her tacky walls, I glance at Dr. Clara, feeling her eyes burn into me. Like she was setting me on fire with just her gaze, I began to feel anxious. 

What if she's a pyromaniac about to attack me? Yes, this was her plan all along! She wants to get me alone so she can burn these ugly walls down and pretend that I didn't make it, just so she can heal her desire of the satisfaction of burning things! 

She's going to kill me!

She's going to kill m-

"Misti."

I look up at her again, her blue eyes meeting mine. 

"You look frightened," She pauses, pushing the over-sized glasses up from the bridge of her nose. "Whatever is the matter?"

The matter? The matter is that I have to see you everyday for two hours of my life! I always have to stop, drop and roll just to get to this place on time! And it's not like I need you anyway! 

I'm fine...

"Nothing important. I just...miss her." I say, hoping to get the conversation up to a point where I can let my mind go numb, ignoring everything around me but my own thoughts. 

But Dr. Clara didn't take the bait like I was hoping she would. She instead furrows her brow, writing down a couple of notes by hoof in her journal. I'd offer to write them down for her, but I guess the whole point is that I don't see the notes she's taking. 

"You don't talk much about her; can you tell me more? Like how you met?"

My stomach clenches at the words, letting the knots inside become tighter and tighter. 

"I don't want to talk about her..." My mind and voice meld together for this single - bitter sounding - sentence. 

Dr. Clara isn't surprised, grabbing the pencil beside her and jotting down a few more notes. She keeps her face even and concentrated, like nothing could effect her. She told me about her own past once, hoping that it would get me to say something, anything to her.

That was a month ago. 

Now, I think she's just accommodated to the fact that I'm not telling her anything she doesn't already know. Besides, it's her job to 'listen' to ponies problems. It's not like she actually cares, it's just for the bits!

Dr. Clara's voice reaches my ears, entering through one side and leaving through the other. Things about how I'm not alone, and that all I need to do is talk to somepony. 

What does she know anyway? It's not like she's living my life...

She's not me. 

I catch Dr. Clara glancing at the bright orange wall, spotting the simple white clock in the middle section. I look too, following her gaze up to the very minute hand ticking away. It makes me feel somewhat relieved that we only have a minute left. 

Please don't talk about anything else!

Please don't talk about anything el-

"Misti?"

I cringe, not only at the fact that freedom might've been ripped from me for the next few minutes, but at how she's using my nickname. 

There is only one pony who can use my nickname, and she doesn't even know I exist anymore. 

"If you change your mind, I'll always be here for you."

I watch as the minute hand passed the 12 once again, signifying that it was 2:00 pm. My eyes flick right to Dr. Clara, seeing that twinge of sadness and loss. 

It made me want to cringe all over again. 

"Thanks Dr. Clara." I force myself to say, and I stand up, shakily exiting her room as fast as I could. Her gaze bores into me once more as the door closes. 

My back leans against the door as I sigh, letting the exhaled air exit through my mouth. 

She is something I do not want to talk about.

Everything started with something stupid. 

Everything started with her.

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