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Through the window of a stone building, the sun approaches it’s horizon, setting as the afternoon makes way to evening.
A person with long dirty blonde hair sits in a cushioned chair, planning, thinking, contemplating everything that has been said in the past half hour.
“I think it could help you come down from the stress of day to day live, help you relax in the evening so you can feel well rested the following day.” the woman sitting across from them explains, noting something on her notepad.
The person in question emits a pained sound, like a suppressed laugh, and shakes their head slightly, smiling uncomfortably.
“So I can push my problems onto someone else?” a rhetorical question that’s regretted as soon as it leaves their mouth. “… Sorry, it’s just…”
“I understand your concerns but you of all people should know best that a fluffies love is unconditional.”
They sit there in silence for many moments, not knowing what to answer.
“I’ll have to think about this.” they say at last.
The woman puts a date onto a piece of paper and hands it to them. “Don’t feel pressured into giving me an answer now. You can think about it and give me an answer next time.”
They seem surprised, looking up at the clock to check the time. These sessions always fly by so fast.
“Next month, same time right?” they ask no one in particular, putting on their dark green coat, getting a simple nod as a reply.
They take their time to look back, thanking the woman once more for her time, heading out to make their way home.
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On the bus, her suggestions gnaw at their mind.
There are many fluffies to choose from but it feels wrong to just pick one of them for the job somehow. Why is this so difficult?
Their stomach feels like it’s burning, the stress overwhelming to the senses, thoughts racing.
This doesn’t feel right…
A sudden realization hits them like a pile of bricks.
When was the last time they had taken their meds?
They fumble with their phone, looking for the nearest available pharmacy, hoping beyond hope there’s one still open somewhere and to their absolute relief, there is.
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Tiny dots glisten throughout the night sky as they walk the streets, a dull throbbing ache inside their skull making everything unclear, a thousand images, feelings and voices trying to occupy the limited space of their brain at once.
The pressure on their ribs gets worse as they walk, slight panic creeping it’s way into their system.
There is distant sound of thunder, it starts to rain.
They need to get home and they need to do so fast, not going to have a panic attack out in the open like this.
As they get to one of the many doors of their home, something catches their eye.
A simple cardboard box left just outside their building, no address, nothing.
They don’t want to check what’s inside, paranoid as they are in this state, but it just seems so odd.
The rumbling of thunder grows louder and with it a familiar sound emerges from the box.
The distinctive chirps of a foal.
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The door shuts behind them quietly, as they make their way towards their living room.
Not for a single moment do their eyes stray from the little chirpy foal they are holding so close to their chest.
The little lilac colt breathes rhythmically, calm and steady, falling asleep in their embrace.
With one hand, they ready a heated pad while holding him with the other, putting a small pillow on top and a little stuffed toy before gently, carefully, setting the fluffy down.
He stirs a bit, face contorting in confusion but soon enough latches onto the cuddly toy, cooing in his sleep.
This has to do for now…
They stumble towards their kitchen, desperately looking for the meds inside their bag.
Where is it?!Where is it?!Where is it?! WHERE IS THE FUCKING BOX!?
Out comes a box of antidepressants which they hold with slightly shaking hands.
Great… just great… I do this every month or so, don’t I?
With a throbbing headache that makes them feel nauseous and dizzy, they fill a glass with tap water and fumble with the packaging until a tablet falls into their hand, swallowing it hastily.
The effects are immediate, calming their anxious mind, giving them room to think.
Why do I keep forgetting…I don’t want to remember
They take deep exhausted breaths, having downed the entire glass in one go.
Their sweat feels like acid to their skin. Their muscles ache dully. Everything feels so surreal.
Where am I? Home. Safe. What? This isn’t… My arm?
They stare at their hands in confusion for a while taking deep calming breaths.
I’m okay… I’m going to be okay…just need to change…
Too tired for a shower, they opt to throw their dirty clothes in the laundry basket haphazardly, changing into something clean. There are more important things to attend to anyway.
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*Tick-tock
*Tick-tock
They sit in their lounge chair deep in though, pillow on their lap, chirpy drinking greedily from the bottle they are holding, filled with the best milk they can offer.
*Tick-tock
*Tick-tock
The clock ticks on, uninterrupted, unnoticed.
What am I thinking!?
They ponder as the colt suckles on the rubber nipple, cooing.
I have no clue where this foal came from…
*Tick-tock
*Tick-tock
And what now? I’m gonna use him for my own gain?
*Tick-tock
*Tick-tock
I can’t believe I’m considering the idea…
*Tick-tock
*Tick-tock
I’m a selfish perso-
*Chip-chip-chip!
The sudden calls of distress make them snap back to reality.
They look down at the little foal in shocked silence as it tries to get their attention by crawling towards them, abandoning it’s bottle.
The accusatory voices die down at that.
They take a deep breath and let their eyes close softly.
Well… Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea after all…
*Tick-tock
*Tick-tock
They lift him up, planting a soft kiss on his forehead, putting him back to feed to witch he coos in response, finishing his bottle.
Silence fills the room, the only sounds left, calm breaths and the ticking of the clock.
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