Hide From Your Fears

“Hey Relentless!” yelled the thick voice of the colt sitting at another table. We were sitting in a German classroom waiting for the teacher to arrive to the lesson.

“What?” I called back with my airless voice.

“Remember that time when you limped off the rugby pitch on the wrong leg?”

“You’re still holding me to that? That was three years ago!” I was already beginning to slide my hoof into my saddlebags.

“It’s just a joke! Learn to take one!”

“It’s only a joke if it’s supposed to be funny,”

“It seems pretty funny: am I right guys?” he looked to his cronies who all laughed and nodded in agreement. “See?”

“Stop looking at your ‘friends’ to help you,” I placed the word ‘friends’ in air quotes to show sarcasm which he was too dim to understand.

“I guess that medication didn't improve your attitude!” The malicious words left his mouth to be met by silence. “All that cancer hasn’t knocked any sense into you!” I sat stunned at the mention of the condition. Nopony had ever brought it up before, yet here he was, jesting about such a serious topic.

The bastard had crossed the line. A red mist formed and my heart began to race. Adrenaline tensed my muscles and I felt my eyelid twitch. In an instant, I had pulled a sharp pair of scissors from my saddlebag and kicked away my chair in anger. The colt looked a little shocked but then laughed it off and started calling me an idiot and saying it was “all a joke!” I wasn’t taking that bull for an excuse, so I kicked away his desk and wrestled him to the floor. He struggled against me but my weight made him lethargic and his efforts were in vain. I shoved my knee into his ribcage and heard him scream as an unsettling but enjoyable crack resounded through the room.

All of the other ponies stood back: shocked and scared, with me cackling in ecstasy over the terrified body of the one who challenged me. I cut his arms with my scissors and blood dribbled out of the incisions. I pinned his head down with one hoof and placed as much pressure as possible on his windpipe. He lay suffocating helplessly but against all morals, I continued to attack, this time sinking my teeth into his shoulder and sucking out the blood before spitting it into his face effectively blinding him.

I felt hooves pull me back. I writhed and kicked as somepony drew me away from my target. My teacher got me to the floor after much struggling to contain my aggression and pinned my arm behind my back. The mist was clearing and I was no longer tunnel visioning on anyone. The sharp blades were taken from me when I was pulled onto my hind legs after plenty of kicking. I tried to plant my elbow into the teacher’s chest but she was too far out of the way for me to do that. People were now crowding the unconscious body that dared make light of my Glottic Cancer.

The headmaster (principal if you’re American) stared at me appalled at my behaviour. I looked like a vampire and I had taken a tissue to clean up my face. He sighed and scratched his scalp unskilfully hidden by hair. “Relentless, what were you thinking?” he finally said after a few minutes of awkward silence.

“I was thinking about attacking him sir,” I replied, unafraid of the inevitable bollocking that I was sure to receive.

“Don’t be sarcastic with me! This is a serious matter. You have caused grievous bodily harm to another student as well as permanently damaging his eyesight. Do you have any idea of the consequences of your actions?”

“Yes sir. But what was told is not quite the truth,”

“From what I heard you lashed out when he made a joke that you didn’t think was funny,”

“You see, that is only partially correct because there was, in fact, a joke made about something that wasn't funny. The only thing is this joke was about my cancer and how it didn't improve my attitude. This is on top of all of the rest of the bullying that I have received in my time at this poorly run establishment which all culminated to me going to my final resort of violence. He had it coming and it seemed that he was completely fine with making fun of a life threatening illness. I think that it should be him in here as well apologising to me. He brought this on himself and I just exacted the punishment.” When I had finished my speech the door knocked and in walked my parents and two police officers, one stallion and one mare. My mother was crying and my father had the 1000 yard stare that seemed to say “You've crossed the line!”

I didn't react when my parents yelled at me for doing such a bad thing. I just sat there in silence, letting it go in one ear and out the other. It was the best way I thought of dealing with the situation because getting emotional lets them know that they’ve dominated you and have full control. I didn't even argue when I was walked off to the police station where I put in a prison cell. I had been carrying my bags with me all the way to the police station and managed to sneak out a small scrap of paper, a pen and some rocks that I had brought in for geography. I had no idea but I thought one was flint.

I hid them where no one would think to look, in my hair. I did this by making it look like I was scratching my head and luckily, the amount of hair on my head was enough to conceal most of the items. The rocks were painful because the sharp edges ground on my head but I endured it until I was alone.

I sat on the floor in the furthest corner and wrote down what insults had been mentioned that day. The page wasn’t very full when I placed it on the floor and tried to spark the two rocks together.

Midnight came and I was still awake. Every time I wanted to go to sleep I would smash me ears with my hooves to disorient myself and make it harder to move towards the wall bed. I didn’t know why I was punishing myself like this but it felt right in an odd way.

A week passed and I had only gotten 13 hours of sleep. My family hadn’t visited me yet and I could only hope that my sentence wouldn’t be too long.

My cell door opened one day and a few ponies stood silhouetted against the fluorescent lights that were balanced on the ceiling behind them. Two of them were my parents and the rest were police or something, I didn’t really know. They told me that I wasn’t completely accountable for my actions and that I would have to go through a year’s rehab and community service to complete my sentence. I agreed with their offer, anything to get out of the hellhole.

The rehab and service consisted of me being asked if I wanted to talk about anything and picking up litter which was in no way interesting. I was constantly under the watchful eyes of my councillor, a mare by the name of Viridescence based in Ponyville. She had a very dark red mane that flowed a bit like another pony’s mane whose name I never asked. From listening around I managed to get the name Fluttershy. Anyway, her fur was a deep green to match her eyes. She had a tick where she would roll her shoulders whenever I came into the room.

My parents would regularly chat with her to check my progress but I never heard any of it.

When August came around I announced my Birthday to her on the third day. She bought me a present the next day and gave it to me as soon as I saw her. It was wrapped in blue striped wrapping paper and was in the shape of a box. There was a red bow on the top as the icing on the cake. I quickly untied the bow and tore open the paper. Inside was a white box with a pen pictured on the front. Upon opening it, nestled in the felt lining, laid a shiny black and silver fountain pen.

“That pen’s made out of real Onyx and Silver!” she pointed out. At that moment, for the first time in years, I felt happy. “It cost me 350 bits and 99 cents.” She continued with a blush and a grin. “I hope you like it because I know you like writing down your thoughts,”

“I-I love it,” I whispered in astonishment. The pen was slick and translucent, showing curls and waves of crystal. The ink inside was pitch black and the nib sharp. Viridescence ruffled my hair and we continued with the session that she had planned.

At the end of my year of rehabilitation I walked out of the meeting room with a new view of the world. I went back to school to continue with work. When I first re-entered education I was given a very wide berth by everyone. Word had gone round school instantly so I had to last as long as possible with nopony to talk to.

I managed to work alone for about two months. The streak was only broken by a new colt that joined the school. He found out as soon as he sat down and came up to me. I knew he was a bad kid the moment I saw him and my predictions proved correct. He placed his mouth a few inches from my ear so that I could feel his breath and he spoke, “You probably should have died of cancer!” He turned and walked away.

***

I walked in through the unfamiliar school gates, the memory of the beaten pony lying in a hedge still fresh in my mind a year later. There were ponies playing in the field in their own little friendship groups. Seeing them flitting around carefree like that was something that I had never seen before where I was from. I was beginning to feel a little jealous. It was then that somepony caught my eye. It was a filly talking to two others with the colour schemes ‘White, Yellow and Orange’. The pony with the white fur was cute so I decided to try and talk to her.

“Hey,” the filly turned her head along with her friends, surprised to see a black colt with burgundy hair that they didn’t recognise walking towards them. “I’m new here, what’s your name?” The white filly looked confused.

“Who, me?”

“Yeah,”

“S-Sweetie Belle,” she said nervously. “Wh-Who are you?”

“Me?” I grinned, bearing my teeth. “Relentless.”