Letters from St. Valentine's High

A/N: I probably could, but I’m deciding to start this story off with a bit of background to the upcoming events. However, this prologue contains little to no pony. If you can’t stand that, go ahead and skip the prologue; it’s not required to understand the story. Like I said, it just provides background and gives more context.

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“This unit will be the base of your lab challenge. Be sure to do well in it. Remember, 5% error or less and you will be exempted from the final if you have also achieved the 90% test or quiz average and you have looked beautiful for the entire semester.” Every student was silent and intently listening to Mr. Mac’s monologue. Normally, everyone would be fast asleep. However, a chance to chance to skip the final AND get an automatic A on it was too good a chance to pass up.

Mr. Mac’s monologue seemed to end and everyone almost fell back asleep. However, he spoke up again, “Oh! I almost forgot. There is something that you will need to practice if you want to do well on the lab challenge.”

All the students snapped back into wakefulness and began to listen intently once again. “Patience: you must practice patience if you want to do well on the lab challenge. I will tell you. This lab will require a lot of patience.”

“Well shit,” Michael thought to himself. “I’m screwed.” Michael did not have much patience.

The day of the lab challenge came quickly and the classroom had an air of dreadful excitement throughout. Michael was especially afraid for today. If anything, he had gotten more impatient over the past few months. The past few months mostly consisted of studying for finals, which was something not too particularly exciting. There was also the finale of the second season of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, which Michael could not wait for.

Thinking about this impatient nature was starting to make it worse. He stopped himself and started to think about the positive things. He had completed the symmetrical crossword challenge and got an extra 1.5% leeway in the challenge. If all went wrong, he had the ace from the Period Table bingo game which would raise his grade an entire letter grade (unless it was an A in which case it would, for some strange reason, bring his grade to an F). To top it all off, he was already doing very well in this class, having had private tutoring from his older brother, who was currently taking biochemistry in college.

Things would be alright. Michael had many fallbacks. All he needed to worry about at the moment was the lab challenge. Apply 3 ounces of fluid solute to the solvent, shouldn’t be a problem. Michael just needed to apply the 3 ounces of solute to the solvent... drop by drop. Michael’s patience would be tested. Fuck.

10 more drops of 535, that’s all Michael needed. Nine drops, eight drops- something was on his sweater, and it was a heavy stain bleeding through the fabrics of his sweater. He looked up to see another student twiddling her thumbs. She quietly responded, “Sorry...”

Chemical spill. Michael cut everything he was doing and ran for the decontamination shower. And by “dropping everything he was doing” Michael dropped the his own beaker of solution on himself. The spills from both his beaker and the other student’s beaker put Michael in a searing pain. He collapsed the the ground. His fists were clenched in a vain attempt to distract himself from the pain. The burning only grew stronger as he began flailing across the floor. In his panic, Michael knocked over more chemicals from a table of old lab experiments from the week before.

Michael’s screaming had alerted Mr. Mac that something was obviously and gravely wrong. Seeing the massive screw up, he ordered all the students to exit the room via the back room. Mr. Mac slipped on safety gloves and dragged Michael to the decontamination shower and began to hose down Michael. Mr. Mac wasn’t panicked by the situation however. Coupled with his observant nature, he noticed Michael’s skin was boiling and changing into something completely alien.

“I need to do something else for the lab challenge.” He thought to himself.

“Traci, there’s a developing situation in one of the chemistry classrooms.”

“Did someone start a fight?”

“No, there’s no fighting, but Traci, you need to see this.”

“Tell me what happened and I’ll decide if it’s worth taking a look.”

“It’s.. well... Traci, I don’t think words can properly describe this.”

“Just tell me.”

“One of the students... transformed into something.”

“Something? Like what?”

“I don’t know yet Traci. But this is definitely big. The media is going to want a piece of this and when this hits the news, the federal government is going to have their eyes on us. You need to see this, Traci.”

Principal Traci Williams gave in. She rose from her desk and followed the assistant principal to the site of the incident. As they entered the hall, several teachers were peering out of their classroom doors, curious as to what the screaming was about. A look inside the classroom would reveal the students had similar curiosities. “Back to your lessons, I’ll bring the situation under control.”

As Principal Williams passed by each classroom, the teachers slipped back into their respective classrooms, trying to return to their lesson plans. When she arrived at the room of the incident, she found students crowded around the door. “Excuse me, why are you all out of class?”

“We’re from Mr. Mac’s class. He told us to wait outside and that no one is allowed inside the classroom unless he says it’s okay.” Traci looked to the assistant principal.

“It was Mr. Mac’s class,” he replied.

“Very well.” Traci turned to the students. “Go to the library, you have a study period this period.”

Quietly, the students walked away from the scene. Principal Williams spoke through the door. “Mr. Macasaet, it’s Principal Williams. Can I come in?”

A voice, almost drowned out by the shower, responded, “Go in through the back door. It should be unlocked. Traci pulled away from the door and went around to the back door. To say that she was surprised would be a vast understatement. “Mr. Macasaet?”

Mr. Macasaet, having drained the shower’s water supply, put the head back onto the mount. “I tried to wash out the chemicals.” He looked to the alien figure beneath him. “It didn’t work...”

“Don’t worry Mr. Macasaet, you tried.” Traci looked at the alien figure again. “My god...”

A pony-like creature was slumped against a wall where a human teenager had previously lain against. His maroon coat and charcoal mane was soaking from the extensive washing of chemicals Mr. Mac had attempted. A horn of the same color as its coat protruded from the center of its forehead.

Mr. Macasaet semi-cheerfully remarked, “He looks just like a unicorn!”

Michael had been consciousness for some time now. It wasn’t a very long time, only 15 minutes long. 15 minutes however lasted less than an instant to Michael’s mind. When he finally regained some sense of mortality, his mind was still limited in functions. He remembered something about an accident. What was the accident about? Who was involved?

His mind clicked. Me. The events came back to Michael slowly, but steadily, replaying as fast as it happened. He had been working on his lab challenge, and then Alex had spilled her solution on him. He tried to make a dash to the decontamination shower to clean himself, but he had dropped his own solution on himself in the process. After that, all he could remember was that he was screaming at the top of his lungs while the chemicals were burning his skin and flesh.

His bodily functions were almost back to normal. His muscles were a bit slow however and his vision was still blurry. Headache, headache, headache. “Okay brain,” Michael thought, “I get it. I have a fucking headache.” Headache, headache, headache. “Okay fine, be that way.”

Michael tried to bring his hand to massage his temples. He couldn’t feel his hands. The only thing rubbing his forehead were some sort of dull appendages. “Where the hell are my hands? Ah, screw it.” Michael relaxed his muscles. Coincidentally, the appendages stopped pestering his head at the same time. Several second later, his vision began to improve. “Hopefully, that chemical spill didn’t get into my eyes.”

Michael could hear someone shouting his name? Yes, that person was definitely shouting his name. It seemed so soft though? His hearing must still be asleep from the kick into unconsciousness. His vision had completely recovered while he was on his thought about his hearing. Principal Williams was shouting at him. His hearing was still dull.

He tried to use his hands again. This time, he tried to gesture to his ears and then swing his hand across throat to indicate his hearing wasn’t functioning well. Michael still hadn’t seen his hands, but Principal Williams seemed to have understood the gesture. Satisfied with that, he relaxed his muscles once more.

“Actually...” Michael thought to himself. Michael tried to get back onto his feet. His mind clicked: all feet are on the ground. “Well, my muscles seem to be working fine now.” Michael looked straight ahead, expecting his eyes to meet with the Principal’s. Instead, he found himself staring at her crotch. Luckily for Michael, his mind had already collected itself and remembered that he was a teenage and she was an adult.

Why was he looking down that low though? He wasn’t hunched over, his knee were almost perfectly straight (if your knees are perfectly straight and locked in, you could actually pass out). Perhaps his mind was receiving deceptive signals from the rest of his body. With that thought, Michael proceed to give himself a visual once over and nearly toppled over.

No arms, hands or feet. He had hooves. “Sweet Luna! What the hell is this!?” His outburst blasted through Michael’s ears as he winced at the sound. Michael looked up at Principal Williams, who had a stern look on her face. “Um, I think I got my hearing back.”

“Mmhmm.” Was her simple and wordless reply.

Desperate the change the subject, Michael looked over his body once more. “What happened to me?”

“I... don’t know.” Williams turned to Mr. Mac. He nodded “no”. “In any case, there are some federal officials coming to look into the matter. Until then, you are on suspension pending an official statement from the government.”

“Suspension? But I-”

Principal Williams interrupted. “Michael, don’t worry. Suspensions aren’t given out only because a student is in trouble. Suspension just means that there is an issue that needs to be sort out before we can allow the student to return to his studies.”

“Oh, well when you put it that way, I guess suspension isn’t a bad thing, but how am I supposed to continue with my school work? I have hooves now... no hands...”

“Don’t worry,” Principal Williams patted Michael’s head, “We’ll work something out.”

“Did she just pat my head?” Michael thought to himself. “Oh whatever.”

As much as his transformation into a pony was confusing to him, Michael was also extremely ecstatic. Michael had been with the My Little Pony fandom since it first began on 4chan. Now he was a living and breathing pony. He was disappointed that he wasn’t transformed into a pegasus or a unicorn, but- Wait. Michael hadn’t confirmed that yet! He reached for his back. As he did this, he made a thought on how comfortably he was moving his limbs. His hoof made contact with his coat: no wings. It was disappointing at first, then Michael realized how deathly afraid he was of heights. “Heh, no use in wings if I’m going to be afraid to be in the air.”

Next, Michael reached for his forehead. Being the humble person (now a pony) he was, he wasn’t expecting to touch anything other than his forehead. How wrong he was: Michael felt the bone of his gleaming horn on his head. Inside, Michael felt his heart explode and he cried in a fantastic cheer! “I’m a bleedin’ unicorn!”

The rest of Michael’s day consisted of student crowding around him like he was a celebrity. Those who recognized what he was either even more excited than the others or regarded him as the scourge of the Earth. The school day was nearing its end however, and since Michael could not really attend his last class due to his inability to perform written schoolwork, the school staff simply allowed Michael to return home. The officials would meet him there tomorrow and Michael would explain what had happened to his parents himself.

When Michael had jumped onto the pony fandom, he was very open about it, not caring about the opinions of others. His family had mixed feelings about Michael’s embracement of the pony fandom. His mother and father thought it was extremely strange, but respected his interests. His older brother, who is now attending UCI (University of California, Irvine), was neutral on the matter, but supported Michael in his various pony-related activities. Lastly, Michael’s oldest brother, who was looking to a 5th year at SJSU (San Jose State University), had the most negative feelings toward Michael, garnering the attitude of what most bronies call a hater.

He would have a doozy explaining this to his family. Fortunately, Michael’s older brother had just left home from his Spring Break and was currently back in Irvine, seeing that his family lived in the Bay Area and not Southern California.

Arriving at his home’s doorstep, he attempted to grab the housekey from his lanyard. His hoof was much bigger than the key itself, and when he tried to grasp the key with two hooves, he fell over. Michael simply gave up that attempt and knocked on the door. With the clacking of the locks being unlocked, the door opened. Standing behind the door was his mother. She seemed oblivious however, as looked around the outside of the family property.

“Mom, down here.” Michael said loudly. She looked down and yelped.

“M-Michael?” She clasped her mouth, then turned away muttering. “I’ve must have been around Michael pony things too much. I must be hallucinating.”

“Mom, you’re not hallucinating!” Michael prodded his mother’s arthritis afflicted knee, much to his chargrin.

Michael’s mother yelped, this time, in pain. “Okay, I haven’t gone crazy, but Michael, how did this happen?” She knelt down so that she could be on the same level as her son. Her hand hovered next to Michael’s cheek.

Michael brough her hand down with his hoof. “Mom, can it wait until dinner, please?”

Michael’s mother looked into her son’s large eyes. “Oh course, dear.”

“One more thing mom.”

“Hmm?”

“Some people from the government are going to being coming over tomorrow.”

Michael’s mother face held a look of disappointment. She sigh. “Well, I suppose it was unavoidable, all things considered.”

“Yea.. unavoidable.” Michael couldn’t help but feel that no good would come from federal involvement, well or ill intended.

The family dinner, as Michael had expected, had garnered mixed reactions. His parents were shocked at the development. They wondered what they would do with all his human belongings: clothes, backpacks, personal computer, and a multitude of art materials. Something that got Michael thinking was what he would eat: as a human, Michael disliked eating vegetables. Now as a pony, vegetable were all he would be able to stomach, seeing that his pony body was herbivorous in nature.

In the end, it was mostly trivial things Michael’s parents pondered on. His older brother was not present to give an opinion, as he was current at Irvine. His oldest brother though, worried Michael. His oldest brother metaphorically ripped out his hair when he was what had happened to Michael. He took his dinner to his room and shut the door. With his improved hearing, Michael could make out the sounds of the furious clacking of typing. Michael presumed it to be his oldest brother angrily ranting to his internet friends.

A trio of federal agents had arrived a few minutes sort of noon at Michael’s house. They had many instruments including, but not limited to measuring tapes and cameras. For a long two hours, Michael had pictures of him taken like he was a crime scene, blood and saliva sample taken, miniscule patches of his coat and mane extracted, and tests measuring his hearing and visual ability administered.

One of the agents whistled, “Man, the guys back at the office are going to freaking slap us for thinking that we’re trying to screw with them.”

“Photographic evidence! It can’t be disputed!”

“For science...”

Michael broke in, “Que? No me comprendo.”

Conversation stopped as the agents turned their heads to stare at Michael. “And now he speaks Spanish. What is this, Dora the Explorer?”

“Dora the- no!” Michael fell onto his butt and put his front hooves over his mouth. “It’s My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic!”

Despite the need to appear professional in public, Michael’s statement broke the federals into tears as they began laughing like hyenas. “Oh man, I remember that from the 80’s!”

“That was straight up terrible. Eh, you were a guy before all this, right Michael? Or was it Michelle?”

Michael groaned, “It’s Michael...”

The federals went back into an uproar, laughing louder than before at Michael. He didn’t mind it though. For one, Michael didn’t pay much attention to idle insults. As the brony community put into three short words: “Haters gonna hate.” If there weren’t haters, Michael knew that they would eventually get curious and look into My Little Pony. “Congratulations,” he thought to himself, “I’ve introduced ponies into the government.”

“Alright Michael,” Michael could see the agent trying to hold back giggles, “there’s one more thing we need to go over before we leave.”

“Like how I’m going to get back to my studies? I don’t have any freakin’ fingers!” Michael stuck his hoof in the agent’s face for emphasis.

The agent gently put Michael’s hoof back onto the ground. “Hey kid, don’t worry about it. We have a plan. I think it’s best if you discuss it with your parents instead of us. We’ll tell them what we’re planning later in the day.”

“Another talk over during dinner...” Michael stroked what would have been his chin. “Alright then.”

“Boarding school!?” Michael voice was that of typical teenager rejection of some decision. “Mom, dad, you know how I reacted when you sent me to Challenger. I did get some of my better friends there but... I digress! And what about my friends here?”

“I’m sorry Michael, but that’s what those people told us was going to happen. The government wants to see you in a educational environment that’s more controlled, as they put it.” Michael’s father still hadn’t touched his food; he was much more concentrated in the discussion with Michael. His mother hadn’t touched her food either. Michael’s oldest brother, as expected, had stormed off earlier, taking his dinner into his room.

Michael sighed, “So, boarding school... When do I leave?”