Dreaming of Equestria

James woke from his sleep. He immediately tore into a fit of rage. He jumped out of his small bed in his small room. Tears flew from his eyes as screams sang from his throat. He tugged at his long brown hair and slammed head against the wall as some of his hair started to come out of his head.

He fell to the ground and wrapped himself up in the fetal position, his fingernails digging into his arms. He was shaking all over and his throat was sore from screaming his pain out. His head was in a condition he had never felt before. He was unsure what to believe. If any of what he had experienced was real. The dreams he was having. They made him so happy. So happy that being torn from them and being brought back into his painful life made his mind find hell.

He hated knowing that it wasn’t real. That these dreams were just a product of his imagination and that he would have to go back to the loneliness his life held. Not only the loneliness, but the neglect of his dad and the constant beatings from him. He was alone at school. Everyday he had to face a long day of school, with people hating him for being different and then come home to find a drunken parent. A parent, who when drunk, is extremely violent. James usually retreated to his room and opened his laptop. There he could escape from the pain in his world by watching ponies.

He never interacted with other bronies lest they treat him like everyone else did. Why should they act any different than the kids at school? No, he just watched the show constantly. Eventually he started living for the ponies. Pinkie Pie was always his favorite, mostly because she was everything he wasn’t. Fun, outgoing, and excitable.

James sat shaking on his floor. His arms were bleeding from scratching at them with his nails. His hair lay on the floor with bloody tips. The screams had finally stopped, but his head was no better. He had no idea how to cope with what he was dealing with. He got the experience the joys of Equestria when he was sleeping, but when he woke he realized that it wasn’t real, and that his times with Pinkie Pie and the other five were just in his head.

He spoke to himself, with his head between his knees and his voice shaking. “W-why does this have to happen? Why can’t it be real!? Why do I have to live through this abuse!?!? Why can’t it be real!? Why is my head fucking with my like this!? I can’t stand living like this! Being taken away from happiness! I fucking hate everybody! They are the reason my life is like this!”

That night James Montague was driven past his breaking point. The people who made his life a living hell and having glimpses of happiness, knowing it could be better, drove James to insanity.

He walked out of his room. His father was passed out on the couch. James went to the gun cabinet and opened the door. He put a shell into his dad’s 12 gauge shotgun and pointed it at his abusive father. He gave a squeeze of the trigger and a red mist puffed in front of him. The couch was stained with what was inside his father’s head.

James calmly went back to his room and grabbed his MP3 filled with only pony music. He put the headphones in his ears and pulled a hoodie over his head. He walked down the dirt road in front of his house for miles. The police later found him passed out in a ditch.