Alone.
I hear the harsh ringing of the metal alarm clock above my head. It takes a moment until I manage to hit the switch with the tip of my hoof. I drag myself out of bed, walking over to the desk I have in my room. I sit down on the stool, staring at myself in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes, red from lack of sleep stare back at me. They weren't dead from videogames like some of the other colts, they weren't dead from the late night study sessions like the brainiacs, they were red because I had been up till past midnight last night crying myself to sleep like every other night.
I remind myself that I, just like every other pony, had to fit in. I had to seamlessly integrate into society. Another piece of the massive, proverbial jigsaw puzzle.
"What a joke."
No, it's logical. Society must work together to function.
I drag a brush through my mane. Can't style it feminine, I'd be mocked for that.
"Just tie it in a bun. Nopony will notice it under your helmet anyway."
No.
Tying it up in a bun isn't an acceptable option. What kind of moron would think it was?
"Just go back to sleep. It'll be more fun."
Neither is crawling back in bed and forgetting about all of this. I had already gotten a warning from the department of productivity. I had missed a day in the factory. Not acceptable. I really needed to get it cut. I didn't have many options that didn't leave me looking like a colt trying to look like a filly.
"What's so wrong with that?" I can hear the back of my brain ask.
Everything.
Purely unacceptable. What, was I trying to get another report from the department of normality? I had already been given 2 citations. Was I trying to become the worst individual in society?
"That hoofball game was rubbish, and you know it. The concert was rubbish too."
We still should have gone.
"You're not a very smart individual, are you?"
I decide to just brush it back. Looks normal. Definitely not a colt trying to be a filly, what a silly notion. I get my tie on, heading off to work, manning the delivery carts. Carrying, to and fro, parcels back and forth, sometimes to other delivery ponies. Never told what. Just given a name and a face. Told to deliver. So I did. Without question.
"What's in the box?"
None of my business.
"You mean you're not the little bit curious?"
No. Go away.
"C'mon. One peek."
We are not getting thrown in jail for tampering with deliveries.
The clock finishes, the day is over. Ponies throw their helmets in their lockers. They take their loved ones back home.
"Remember what they said? Find a special somepony within a week."
Don't remind me.
I hear a group of stallions talk of going to a bar. Usual weekend stuff. I think about going over and joining them.
"You're not going to get accepted."
Don't be the first one against me.
"Sorry sport, 5's about all we can handle. Once we get more...it goes downhill...pretty fast. Maybe some other time."
"I told you. You didn't listen."
You're never good news.
I sit at home. I want to be alone.
"Alone isn't normal."
Be. Quiet.
A knock on the door. I go to answer it. Before me stands a mare in uniform. She levitates a letter over to me in her aura.
"You are late. The department is very disappointed in you."
I take the letter and I open it up. It reads about how my pay will be deducted by half until I find a special somepony.
"Special somePONY, not just special someFILLY"
No. That isn't normal. It isn't right. Why would you even suggest that?
"I don't know. Why do you drive a knife into your wrists to deal with pain?"
I stare down at the shiny piece of steel, sharpened like a razor, drawing lines of red all over my arm. It stings, but at least it is relief from the pain of loneliness.
"You're breaking the norm. You're going to be fined."
Be. Quiet.
I drive deeper, it drowns the voice out. Something I had formed in the absence of other individuals. But tonight he was fighting back.
"You'll be found out. You'll be fined more. You'll go hungry."
SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP
I stare at the slow drain of crimson from around the shiny steel. I draw it back, the pink flesh visible for only a moment until it's replaced by the scarlet of blood. Pain. I press a napkin to it. I watch as it soaks up the blood. It stems the tide. I fall in my bed, the voice silenced for another night. I spread my legs across my bed, feeling the cold sheets sap my heat. I am alone.
"Put it to your throat. Go ahead. What do you even contribute to society? You're fat. You're ugly. You don't have any skills. You aren't smart. You aren't strong. You're alone."
I put it to my throat. I'll prove the voice wrong. I'll prove every filly who ever turned me down wrong. I'll show everyone. I am not alone. I have the crimson tide spilling out, and pain in my compadre. Pain will be with me till the very end.
Pain and loneliness never left me.
They stayed with me longer than anypony else. They'll stay with me to the very end.