Is...is this Life?

"Go away."

"But Shane, C'mon, it was funny!"

Mom. With one of her "wake up pranks." Oh, the joy.

"I said GO."

"Okay, okay, just don't kill yourself over it." Then she laughs.

You won't be laughing when I do.

When she finally leaves, I get some time alone. I am Shane, a Brony, 15, and I fucking hate everything. I don't like this planet, I don't like religion, I don't like any of it. Life, eh? Could totally live without it. Get it? Ha.

"I don't want to exist, But I don't want to die!" I say this outloud, knowing mother would think of this as some hormonal shit. Fact is, I don't want to go to Equestria either. To much...happy. No, I'm not one of those sadistic fucks that kill themselves, I just enjoy darkness and thrive in sadness. It's how I work.

I walk over to my Y-Box Tree-69 and power it on. Plopping down on my (not-so) fat ass, I pull up YouTube and watch something. I don't pay attention. I think.

If I were an animal, what would I be?

How would my friends react if I came into school one day dressed in pink?

Is there a world out there for me?

On that last one, it hits me. All fiction is just non-fiction in a parralell universe. So there is.

yay

THE NEXT DAY

Fuck. Waking up is always the worst. I dream of a happier life, one which I never got so...twisted...so...fucked up...so that when I do awake, I end up despising the dream. Since when did I like that girl? Since when did I ever like Ferraris?

And so on.

I deside I don't want to go to school and learn today. I go, I just won't learn. And that gets me thinking about my school life.

Should I run naked through the school?

Should I write "Fuck School" on the lobby board?

Should I ask Fiona out on a date?

Inner gasp. Why would I think of that? Fiona would never date me, and anyways I wouldn't be happy even if she said yes. I'd probrally just smack her across the face and call her a slut. What a turn-out.

AT SCHOOL

"Oh, just fucking shoot me already. Please."

HOME

Really shouldn't have said that out-loud. Fuck. Now I'm doing my homework at the school, in detention.

OH JOY

I turn to look at the clock. 4:30. I get out at 6. It's as if time were going backwards.

I can feel my eyes drooping, and decide to rest my head on my open textbook. Ignoring the teachers calls to sit up, I drift off into sleep.

Oh, sweet release...

I already know I have the decision. I know I have the power. I usually chose to wake up, but now, well, I don't think so. As the beast bekons me forth, he asks me a question.

"Do you want to wake up?"