We All Go To Hell

     Gerard cringed and held his head for a moment, trying to get the headache to go away. He was being driven insane. He felt like his bones were cracking and shrinking, and he felt like his clothes had just gotten five sizes larger. He could feel his nose and jaw growing longer and broadening out. It was too painful for words.

     He tried to think. He had to think. God damn it, his hands were getting hard and bony. Wait, what?

     He focused on his thoughts, his memories. Where he had last been. The concert. They were on a tour in Cardiff, showing off their  most famous album, Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge. He tried to remember the words to his favourite song in it. Helena..

Long ago,

Just like the--

     God damn it! Some one had just jumped in front of him and yelled some sort of greeting. He couldn't make it out until he focused on the voice.

     "Hi there! What's your name? I've never seen you before!"

     Gerard couldn't tell who it was. He couldn't see them. Suddenly, his eyes felt like they were growing and moving through his skull. Or rather, that they had already moved, and he was getting used to it. His vision was stretched a bit, but for some reason, it felt natural. He just cringed and couldn't stop thinking about the aching pain he was in.He then felt something... A tail. Holy shit, he had a tail. What the f--

     "Are you okay?" asked the same high-pitched voice.

     Gerard growled, but he really was trying to speak All he could do was growl as he grew used to his new vocal chords. "N-no!" he shouted.

     "You don't look so hot, either! Need some help?"

Need some help?

     Those same words repeated in his head over and over. No. No he didn't. He hadn't asked for help for a solid year and a half, and he wasn't going to start now.

     "N-n-NO!" he screamed in a raspy, hoarse voice.

     The same person whom had been asking him questions bent down before him and put a hoof on his cheek in a gentle and compassionate manner. "Hey... It's alright. I can help you." Her voice had changed slightly, it was calmer and more caring and considerate. "Just let me help."

     Gerard teared up, his eyes wouldn't open. They were clenched shut, and he was gritting his teeth in pain. He couldn't move his body, couldn't figure out how. Finally, he grasped it, and his spine slowly straightened out as he put what he thought was his hand on the voice's.. hoof?

     His eyes slowly opened as he ignored what it felt like he was touching. His vision was slightly different, but it was nothing he wouldn't be able to get used to once the blurriness in his eyes cleared up. He then sized up the one who sat in front of him, trying to show him compassion. What he saw was a bright, obnoxious pink pony with a unruly light magenta mane and tail and sad, light blue eyes. He could tell that, despite how happy this mare seemed to always be, she was sad and lonely inside. She was surrounded by friends, and yet also so alone.

     Initially, he was shocked. But when he looked down and saw what he had in place of hands and that he surely did have a tail, he came to terms with it. Sort of.

This can't be happening. This *cannot** be happening. Oh God, oh God, oh God!*

     He got over it temporarily, and put aside his thoughts. He just wanted help. He didn't want to admit that he wanted or needed help, but he would accept it if it was offered. Not much that he could do at the time being.

     He could still feel tears falling, whether they were for the pain and for the fact that he was now stuck somewhere he didn't belong, alone and without any true friends, just like this mare, he couldn't say for sure. Oh, God, why won't it end?

    The mare braced him underneath his forelegs and hoisted him up to his hind legs. She then shifted him onto her back. Gerard couldn't really resist. He practically couldn't move, just his eyes, his mouth, his general bodily functions, and some general movements of his tail and hooves. And even if he could resist, he probably wouldn't. He knew he needed this.

     He could feel the mare's movements as she strode forward into town. "H-hey..." he tried to say. "What's.. what's your name?"

     "Pinkie," she responded. "The name's Pinkie Pie. I live in Ponyville, and I like to party a lot. I know every pony in town, plus some, and you're the first new face I've seen in seven weeks. That's a record!"

      She trotted gently in silence for a few minutes before breaking the silence. "So, what about you?"

      His vocals were strengthening, he could feel it. Damn it, that would mean he'd be able to tell her it all. Oh well, can't hurt.

      "Gerard.. Gerard Way."

     "That's an interesting name."

     "Well, so is Pinkie Pie. Anyways.. I'm a singer. I'm in band.. Or I was." He looked down at the ground as it passed by while they kept moving.

     "What was it called?"

     "My Chemical Romance. It's a punk-rock band. You know, a lot of heavy metal and attitude and screaming into the microphone, but every song tells a story, and most are very emotional. Some are angry, some are depressing and sad, some are kinda funny.. Some are just... I don't know.. Deep. You know what I'm saying?"

     "Yeah! I'm not all that familiar with punk-rock, but it sounds awesome! I'm just more into metal."

     "Well, it's a lot like metal, but with a lot more attitude and teenager-type stuff, like leather jackets and spiked bracelets and piercings and screaming and loud whispering and sex--"

      He stopped for a moment. He knew this was a touchy subject for anyone. Or, according to this mare, any "pony". Oh yes, he listens.

     "And drugs and death and funerals and suicide--"

     More touchy subjects. Damn it!

     "And relationships and break-ups and cheating and divorces and... sadness. Sadness and emotion. So much of it."

     "Wow," Pinkie said. "Sounds.. depressing. And it also sounds like a good emotional outlet.."

      "It is! My band and I would pour our thoughts and emotions into our songs and into our music! We became famous in less then two years! It was frightening! So many people took our albums and did covers of our songs and used our songs to clear their minds! It felt like we were helping the world become less bottled-up because we gave the world an outlet!"

      He then looked down again and gently closed his eyes. "But now... I'm not there. They'll be devistated. They won't be able to come up with another singer like me. Frank said so."

     "Who's Frank?"

     "One of the guitarists. He was good. Great. And he and I were good friends. Him, me, Ray, and Mikey. Mikey... my little brother... Oh God...' Gerard began tearing up.

     "What's wrong?"

     "I'm stuck here! In a world not my own! As a pony! A techni-coloured pony! How the fuck am I supposed to get used to this! I've got no friends, no family, no one I know! No one but you! And I barely know you! I'm fucking screwed!" Fresh hot tears streamed down Gerard's face as he lost it all. Then he snapped. "Put me down." he growled.

     "What?" Pinkie asked shocked.

     "Put me down. Now."

     Pinkie gently sat and allowed to Gerard to roll off of her back and onto the grass she now sat on. Gerard tried to gain his balance as he tried to sit up as well. He then remembered that four-legged animals use their tails to keep their balance. He then stood up slowly. He placed one hoof in front of the other. He willed himself to move forward, and he felt his hind leg placing itself two feet forward on itself. He then repeated his motions with the other set of legs. He began slowly and steadily trotting. Once he began to pick up pace, he then decided to push himself. He moved even faster as he trotted back to the gravel road. He then used more energy to begin full-forced galloping. It felt good, to use this new body of his, to stretch those muscles, to allow the sun to bathe his fur. He kept going, then reared up as he turned around and galloped the other way, trying to get into all of his possible movements. He moved back and forth, side to side, stood on his hind legs, bucked upwards with them, jumped up and bucked his entire spine as if he was in a rodeo, everything.

      He then scowled and remembered Pinkie. He looked back at her. "Can you.. give me shelter?"

      Pinkie trotted forward and placed a fore-hoof on his shoulder. "Sure."

      "You know, being a pony isn't a fashion statement. I can tell by the way you look at your body. It's not a set of clothes. It's a body, and you've got to treat it right. I know what being a musician can do to a pony. I've seen so many musicians commit suicide or cut themselves or take drugs because of all of the pressure. I'm sure you know about this, being one yourself, but I need you to know that.." She paused. "Never mind."

     Gerard was confused.

     "Another thing. Look at your flank."

     Again he was confused, but he did as he was told. There, he saw a symbol. It looked like a tattoo. It was a black widow sitting on top of a microphone. Suddenly, he was reminded of his band. Their logo. A black widow.

     "That symbol.. It's your cutie-mark. It shows what your special talent is. Obviously, yours is singing, but with a bit more of a hard-core kind of concept. Mine," she motioned to her flank, which displayed three balloons. "It shows that I'm talented at making people laugh. All cutie-marks are unique. They show what your special talent is. You don't always get your cutie-mark right away. You have to discover your talent. In your case, you already have.

     " A cutie-mark is also what ponies use to identify each other. It can also show what kind of pony you are. What kind of personality and character you have. Cutie-marks are important. Along with your race. There are earth-ponies, pegasi, and unicorns, which is what you are."

     Gerard was surprised. "I am?"

     Pinkie nodded. "Magic is used by unicorns to assist them in their talent and their careers. You, you might need your magic to hold a microphone, to pick up objects with out having to use your teeth or hooves, which actually can pick up objects, despite the fact that we don't have pose-able thumbs like primates."

      Then Pinkie got curious. "Where did you come from?"

      "A planet called Earth. A country called America. The dominant race were, uh, humans."

      "Humans?"

      "Kind of related to monkeys, but they're generally hairless, except for some light body and facial hair, and hair on top of their heads. Only the males had facial and body hair, though. It's complicated, and I'm not sure how to explain. I'm a poet, not a biologist."

      "It's okay," Pinkie ensured him. "Let's go. I want to show you around Ponyville and to your new home."

      Gerard obliged, and they trotted together along the gravel road. Eventually, he'd learn everything about being a pony, about his particular body type, and eventually, he'd get together a new band. Maybe rename it something else, so as to not take an un-original name. But for now, he just wanted to rest. It had been a long and depressing day. And he still had things he needed to figure out. More ponies to meet.