The Adventures of Leptonit Worry

by aricaitlyn

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy, Random, Adventure
Length: 1375

Leptonit Worry is a colt who doesn't know who or what he's meant to be.

Leptonit Worry was a young colt who diagnosed himself with amnesia, mainly as an excuse for his seldom forgetfulness. One thing he doesn't know, however, is who he's meant to be. After a backwards, torturous morning catches him by surprise, he finds himself in another world, destined to discover the pony he's meant to be.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-28 18:40:03 UTC

1: A Day To Remember

My name is Leptonit Worry. I'm just a colt with a serious problem: amnesia.

Wait. I'm sorry to begin my story so dramatically. To clear things up here, I diagnosed myself with amnesia because I guess I needed an excuse. I've got a problem with leaving things behind at school, and I don't even know who I'm meant to be. It's a real problem that just needed to be covered with an excuse.

Here's the story of how I realized who I was meant to be.

I woke up one school morning. The sun was shining and the birds were singing outside. A nice breeze blew through my window. From somepony else's perspective, it would have been nice, but for me, it was torture. The sun's glare got me right in the eyes and I could see it, even though my eyes were shut tight. The birds singing became redundant and screechy, and I swear they were saying, "Bad days ahead." And that "nice breeze" I mentioned before was more like a cold slap of snow on my face. I covered my face with the blanket, hoping that the cold wind would stop, the birds would shut up, and the sun would stop shining directly in my face. I was mainly just hoping for the day to be over.

"Lep! It's time to get up!" my mom shouted from the kitchen. I pushed the blanket from my face and smelled pancakes. Pancakes! My horrible morning immediately became a thousand times better. I leaped out of bed and dashed down the stairs, where my mom stood at the stove, cooking grass pancakes. She could tell that I was hungry, but she pushed the pan away from my face and gave me a weird look. "Lep, these aren't for you. These are for your brother! He has a soccer game tonight, and I heard from Roseluck that grass pancakes are good fuel for athletes."

I rolled my eyes. My brother, an athlete? He was more like a lucky blob. He was constantly fumbling and falling to the ground when the ball got to him. Oddly enough, his team, the Ponyville Elementary Hay-Kicks, still remained undefeated. I guess elementary school sports have low standards for who wins or loses.

Deprived of my favorite breakfast, I grabbed an apple instead and headed out the door. "I'll see you after school, Mom," I called as I trotted out. She tilted her head in some kind of a goodbye wave.

I closed the door behind me and saw my friend, Typewrite, stepping out the door on her way to school. I trotted up to Typewrite, excited to see her. Even though I woke up roughly and didn't get the breakfast I craved, Typewrite was probably going to be the best part of my day so far. She was a beautiful pony with a pink coat and a long blonde mane. She wore big blue ribbons in her mane, one by her ear and the other on her tail. And she was smart, too. Whenever we had a project for school, she and I partnered up and always succeeded with flying colors. Typewrite also worked for the school newsletter. Typing was her specialty, of course; it was her cutie mark.

I greeted her and took a bite of my apple. "Hi, Typewrite. Good morning."

Instead of her usual pearly-white smile, she scoffed and glanced at me, like I was something she just stepped in. "Leptonit? Ew. Why am I even talking to you?"

"Because you're my best friend," I replied, grinning. I was hoping that she was playing around.

Type wasn't playing around. "Why would I associate myself with such a loser like you?" She moved a few feet away from me like I was walking garbage or something. "Don't even talk to me. Ew," she said. She turned her head, her blonde curls flipping.

Well, I guess those birds were right. Considering how bad this morning was, I wouldn't be surprised if my days to come were just as awful or even wrose. Typewrite and I trotted to school without exchanging one word with each other. As soon as we got there, she trotted up to these two mares. I knew those two mares: Sour Apple and Windblown. They were rude, unintelligent, and only appreciated expensive luxuries that their daddies bought for them. Any other day, Type and I would have made rude remarks about those two and avoided them at all costs, but today, Typewrite was chatting them up like they had been best friends forever. The three mares were soon smiling, but their smiles looked more like evil grimaces, all painted in a blinding white. The trio turned to me, hooves pointed in a mocking position. Their smiles grew and became laughs of mockery. Other ponies, after remembering how to fit in, turned around and began to laugh at me. Soon enough, everypony outside of the school was laughing their flanks off at me. I looked down at myself. Was there something wrong with me? My mane, my hooves, my face, anything?

Without thinking, I began to run. I made my way to the back end of the school, but was stopped by a pony much worse than Sour Apple and Windblown combined. It was the school bully, Bruiseworth. I had heard legends about what he had done to other ponies who got in his way, but I had never experienced the pain he could bring firsthoof. He grinned once he saw me, but it was a very devious grin. "Well, hello, Leptonit. Care to play a game?"

I opened my mouth. No words came out.

He brought himself up quickly on his back hooves. Without thinking, I hoisted myself up, too, and suddenly felt like the tough guy I wasn't.

Bruiseworth swung, aiming for my muzzle. I brought my hooves over my face, but the impact was still painful. He had knocked me to the ground and hurt my forearms. I shook myself off and stood back up, this time on all fours. My forearms were aching from the hit; they were wobbling as well. I pulled my head up and saw that a small crowd of ponies were surrounding the fight. Some of them had even brought cameras to photograph the action.

Might as well make this fight worth it. I kicked Bruiseworth, knocking his head back. He grunted, then shook it off like it was nothing.

He swung again. I ducked. A few ponies, probably the ones who weren't laughing at me before, began to cheer me on. I pulled myself back up and hit him with my wobbling forearms. The hit didn't stun him or anything. Instead, he knocked me to the ground and I began to fall. The crowd began to disband, and Bruiseworth smiled, acting like some sort of hero. I kept tumbling down, through grass and dirt, and landed to the ground with a loud thump.

2: Excuse Me, I'm Lost

I pulled my head back up, groaning from the pain. Instead of getting up, I just stayed there on the ground, praying that this day would just end already, and that I could go back to bed, and that a day like this would never happen again.

After what felt like five minutes, I finally decided to get up. I brushed myself off, pulling bits of grass from my mane. I hardly recognized my surroundings, but I knew that I definitely wasn't in the city anymore.

Without a destination, I began to trot around, looking for a sign of familiarity. A landmark, perhaps? A forest?

Ah, yes! A forest! A vast and large forest stood before me. My trotting grew faster. Somehow, I knew that I'd be able to find help or a way back home in this very forest.

My environment grew darker and darker as I ventured further into the trees. Suddenly, I heard a rustling in the leaves. "Hello?" I called out. Something that looked like a pony darted out of the leaves and led herself into a small hut that was just a bit further away.

"Aha! I see you!" I exclaimed. I began making my way towards the hut.