Agoraphobia in Equestria - Tired

Agoraphobia in Equestria - Tired

 

>Your parents have long since stopped calling you.

>You have no friends that you can actually call 'friends.'

>Your savings account is running on close to empty, and you have no way to replenish it.

>Your apartment rent is two months behind and the owners keep calling your cell.

>You have long since stopped playing for a phone.

>But your appartment is clean.

>The walls are a stark white, free of streaks and seem to glow.

>Your carpet is vacuumed and clean.

>Your sheets are washed and free from disgusting sweat spots.

>Your clothes are neatly folded and tucked away inside plastic bags to keep the nonexistent dust off them.

>You have Agoraphobia and Germophobia.

>Your waking hours are spent cleaning, and your sleeping hours are spent dreaming of cleaning.

>At this point in time you live to clean.

>You consider your teeth to be one of your best qualities.

>Free of cavities and pearly white.

>You attribute this to a strict regiment of brushing 16 times per day.

>When you clean, you usually brush your teeth.

>When you aren't brushing your teeth you are usually rinsing your mouth with mouthwash, or chewing sugar-free gum.

>Your favorite pants have, at a minimum, four sealed tooth brushes and a tube of Colgate for emergencies.

>You thought you were ready for anything.

>Knew that your small one room apartment could withstand any germ invasion.

>What happened to you, you had no plan for.

>You went to sleep one night after trying out a new cleaner.

>You had high hopes for this cleaner, as it smelled like a hospital and a pine forest at the same time.

>In your dreams you were brushing your teeth on the 76th of 139, the perfect amount of brushes for each tooth, of your first upper lateral bicuspid, when you woke up.

>Something was not right, the way the bristles scraped against your bicuspid was wrong.

>You reached out and felt for your tooth brush.

>This was an emergency, you HAD to brush your first upper lateral bicuspid.

>Your breath caught in your throat as your hand grasped at air.

>You knew there was a tooth brush there before you went to bed.

>You placed it there as you closed your eyes, within easy Reach.

>Your eyes have not adjusted to the darkness of your room.

>Your room.

>You never let your room get this drafty.

>Drafty rooms were just a giant petri dish for bacteria.

>You Reach for your covers to pull them up over your head, hoping to end this nightmare.

>Your hands only grasp at air.

>Your breath, still caught in your throat, catches again.

>Your scramble about, Reach-ing, grasping and feeling about for your sheets.

>They are not there.

>Your eyes are starting to adjust to the dim light of your room.

>Or what you thought was your room.

>You can faintly make out what appears to be a... tree? In the distance.

>Your breath bursts past the barrier you had inadvertently made and sucks in.

>An ear piercing scream escapes your lips.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?"

>You scream into the night.

>You can faintly make out the lights of a near by town flickering into life.

>Some of them seemed to be colored faintly, hardly discernible to eyes not as trained as yours to spot dirt.

>You continue to scream as you take in your surroundings.

>You are in, what appears to be, a forest.

"WHAT KIND'VE NIGHTMARE IS THIS? HOLY SHIT IT WON'T END."

>You don't know why you are still screaming, but you can't stop.

>Bacteria.

>That single thought silences you.

>You shut your mouth, lips compressing into a tight line as you collect all the spittle you are able to and forcefully reject it from your body.

>You know that small attempt won't save your teeth.

>Water.

>You need to brush your teeth.

>Now.

>Luckily you are still wearing your freshly laundered clothes.

>You found that sleeping in clothes saves time and, so long as they are freshly laundered, saves you just enough time to brush your teeth, twice, upon waking.

>You stand up, your legs finding a strength you never knew.

>You had to get to that town and find some form of clean sink for you to brush your teeth in.

>You don't remember moving from your standing position, but you are now halfway to the town, sprinting as fast as your legs will carry you.

>You are fast approaching a house.

>You don't stop as you Reach the door.

>Your super-germophobe strength careening you through the door and into the small sitting room beyond it.

>Filth.

>Filth and garbage EVERYWHERE.

>Without another thought you turn from the room and leap through the doorway, leaving the house without a third thought.

>Was that a maya blue colored pony with a mane of periwinkle streaked with blue sitting on a cushion in the corner?

>Fuck no it wasn't.

>You sprint further into the town, searching for the cleanest house.

>Most of the houses look slightly dirty, unacceptable to your advanced germ senses.

>You see it.

>It's like a glimmering chapel of clean amidst an ocean of filth.

>Above its door it boasts a picture resembling a pony on a pole from a carousel.

>Your super-germophobe strength knocks over this door without a thought and you rush through the building.

>Noticing many pony shaped mannequins.

>You remember this picture from somewhere.

>You give no fucks as you attempt to find the bathroom, knocking down door after door.

>In one room there appears to be a, slightly scared, slightly awake pony, pure white skin and a mane of royal purple boasting a horn above her forehead.

>You give no fucks, it's a dream after all....

>Right?

>You shake your head and move on to the next room.

>This room contains an equally scared pony, white of body with a purple and pink fluffy mane, again boasting a horn.

>You, again, give no fucks.

>Moving on towards the next room.

>Upon kicking down the door you see a spotless, gleaming bathroom fit for a germophobe of your caliber.

>You like to think yourself above casual germophobes.

>This bathroom rivals your own.

>Only it is bigger and more spacious, with a large bath and gleaming white porcelain sink.

>You tunnel vision in on the sink and sprint forwards.

>Hands clutching the sides of the sink you rip one of your spare toothbrush's out of your cargo pockets.

>Carefully peeling away the plastic wrapper, taking care to assure it can be used again.

>You are quite desperate to even consider using the tooth brush's case as a storing device.

>Pulling out the tube of Colgate, you place the perfect amount on the brush.

>You let out a sigh as you finally Reach your first upper lateral bicuspid.

>The feeling of the bristles against your tooth is almost more than you can handle.

>You are so engrossed in brushing your teeth you don't even notice the two p0nies staring at you.

>Their sleepy eyes wide, shock plain across their faces.

>You finish brush 139 on your first upper lateral bicuspid with a sigh.

>It's okay.

>You made it.

>The nightmare was just that, a nightmare.

>You turn on your heel and start towards the door.

>That's when you see them.

>Rarity and Sweetie Belle.

>Two p0nies from MLP.

>You are so shocked you stop in your tracks, left foot floating in the air.

>You don't even have time to think of a response as Rarity screams.

>Sweetie Belle joins in.

>Together their voices force you to your knees.

>Your hands clutching your ears.

"Please stop! I-I don't know where to begin, just please, PLEASE, stop.

>They two p0nies stop and your hands fall to your sides.

"Th-thank you. I am...."

>Your name.

>You think back.

>You can remember everything about your old life.

>Parents.

>Friends.

>Everything.

>Your name brings up a blank.

>You slowly come to the realization that you may no longer remember who you are.

>Probably something to do with that new cleaner you bought.

>A chemical reaction creating this hallucination.

"Call me Anonymous for now, I can't seem to remember my name."

>Rarity faints, Sweetie Belle simple stares.

"Hello?"

>You see Sweetie Belle's horn glow slightly as your vision fades to black.