Author's Note

Hey everypony. Brightlight here, keepin all of you bronies an pegasisters out there updated on my new story. Now, this is the first chapter (No shit <.<) and this is also my first posted fanfic on the show. I've written on a lot of other places to, but I figured I'd give a written shout out to one of my other favorite shows, MLP:FiM. If anyone has anything to say, leave a comment. Btw, it can be good or bad, so long as it helps, otherwise, you'll see that the main phrase of this story isn't just followed by the main character, but by me as well. See ya later!

P.s. Sorry the chapter seems short, had to start somewhere. Promise that future chapter will be longer.

Chapter 1: Chain of Events

As I walked back towards my house, stray street lamps lighting the otherwise pitch black darkness along my path, I couldn't help but delve into my thoughts, much like I usually did whenever I was mobile, be it a simple walk or a full blown sprint.

Being an old habit I had developed, I would often allow myself to begin thinking through several recent occurrences in the world, from common car crashes to full blown wars, and, believe it or not, curse human kind for its stupidity and negligence. After all, if we were to review what we had done to this planet after we began to process thought, we would be given a small green list, listing all the advantageous things we had done, accompanied by a near endless list of the negative aspects of humankind and history.

On this occasion of thought however, I reverted to my past, subconsciously choosing to review the chain of events that had given me my current moral compass, as it were. I sighed to myself, my breath slightly foggy from the apparent cold of the winter, knowing that this would turn out to be a long walk. My mind then acted on its own accord, starting my mental journey from my earlier years.

I was started off from my childhood, around middle school. The first sound I heard was laughter. Awful, awful laughter. I could see my past self running, tears streaming down my young eyes as I made my way out of school grounds.

"Where you goin' eye-paint? School just ended! We haven't even had that much fun yet!"

"He's probably going to look for his missing contact. Oh wait... That's just his face!"

When I look back at it now, the insults were incredibly immature, near amateur at best, and horribly though through. However, back then, I didn't have that mind set. I simply cried from the constant harassment.

"It's n-not fair!" I would say to myself as I ran home. "It's n-not my f-fault I was born like this!"

My mind skipped ahead a few scenes, showing me peeking through a crack in my room's door, my eyes still slightly red from my crying, as I listened in on my upset parents. Mostly, all I would hear was muffled and garbled voices. Though, out of their seemingly meaningless conversation, I soon managed to make something out clearly.

"To each their own..."

My mind seemed to have tired from this time in my life, as it rapidly zoomed me past years as if they were seconds. It would stop me at points that it found of minor interest, before leading to another memory that it decided to settle.

This time, I was in high school, watching from the car as several upperclassmen took their dates to prom as we drove by the school towards home. I was much taller and slightly more built than my middle school self. Even my voice seemed to hold its own authority to it.

"Mom?" I asked quietly.

"Hmmm?"

"How come I can't get a date? And please don't joke around and say its because I don't ask."

There was a stagnant pause in the air, only being interrupted by the usual sound of our running car and surrounding traffic.

"Well honey, I think its because most girls don't get to know you."

"... Probably because they're busy making fun of me."

"Personally, I think that if they want to waste their time with a short-lived muscle-bound jock, rather than a well-righted gentleman like you, simply due to a small mutation, then to each their own." Oddly enough, when she said this, I felt a thousand times better.

My mind relayed to me once more, asking me to focus as I was taken forward to my next memory.

This one was fairly recent. I could tell due to the amount of detail I remember from this day. Waking up, making my usual breakfast, going to work, and even coming back home and sneezing from the dust in the car. Every last detail was remembered to the finest point. Unfortunately, this was a blessing, as much as it was a curse.

It was an hour or so after I had come back from work. I was watching the news, refilling myself with new concepts to idly think about, when I got a phone call.

"*Click* Hello... Yes, that's me... What!?!"

I was flashed forward again, leading to an image of myself running into the hospital, frantically asking for a room, sprinting down the halls, and nearly smashing the door in as I arrived to the pertained room.

There, in the middle of the room, the mattresses laid next to each other, were my mother and father.

I nearly dropped to my knees as I saw the blanket of one of the two completely covering one of their faces, alongside the lack of life support around them.

I had lost my father before I had even gotten there.

I was utterly stunned, but was soon brought out of it when I heard a weak cough come from my mother.

I swiftly yet carefully made my way next to her, gently grabbing her hand as she looked towards me, and smiled. It was a very weak smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"M-mom... I'm so sorry this happened. If I had known, I would've come with you two! Maybe I could've done something!"

"It's not... Your fault..." She stated, gasping in between as she continued to hold her smile. "Drunkard... Shouldn't have been driving... But... You know how it goes..."

I chuckled slightly, a tinge of happiness passing me as she continued with her more comedic tone of voice, even as weak as she was.

"Y-... You know I'm not one to hold a grudge mom, but I'd do damn near anything to go back, and stop that guy from even touching his car keys."

This time she chuckled, her eyes seeming to lose their usual shine little by little, as the beeping of her heart monitor grew more and more separated.

"I... Don't blame you son... But... He was the kind of guy... Who couldn't go... Without a drink... After all..." She stopped there, either not having enough strength to finish, or hoping I would finish for her. I didn't hesitate in the least.

"T-to each their own." And just like that, she let out one more smile, before her heart monitor finally let out one continuous beep, signaling the end of our conversation. This time, for good.

There were no tears that day. Sadness, yes. Despair, of course. But no tears. I had already released any tears I had left over my life, so rather than weep, I simply mourned.

As I was returned to the world of the conscious, I sighed to myself, barely noticing the familiar sight of my home in the distance. That was three years ago, December 30th, today.

As I walked to the door of my home, I pulled out my house keys from my heavily sweaters pocket, my gloves nearly causing me to lose what little grip I had as I turned the keys for the door and entered.

The first thing to greet me, was a mirror that I had implanted near the door about two years ago. I put it there for reasons even I wasn't completely sure of, but for some reason, it fit.

I looked myself over and chuckled at how ridiculous I looked in my heavy snow clothing. It didn't help that I overall hated wearing any thing more than a shirt on my upper body. So, not truly caring that I might regret doing so when I found out how cold the house was, I began to remove the ridiculously overprotective snow armor.

My short black hair seemed to shake itself back upright as I removed my snowcap, preferring to stay in its natural position rather that that of a bowl. Next, the overcoats and paintings, leaving myself in a plain white, long sleeved t-shirt and some black sweatpants. Finally, I reached for the goggles that I had been wearing to avoid snow blindness. As I removed them, I exposed polarized and titanium-lined glasses that I had grown to wearing over the years, concealing next to nothing of my amber eye, seeming to coalesce perfectly with my brown one.

There they were. The pair of opposite eyes that had brought upon years of teasing and trauma throughout my life. However, when I looked at them, I felt no discontent or anger whatsoever. I simply smiled, happy to see my old friends, as I repeated what had become the very same mantra that I followed throughout my entire life.

"To each their own."