The Walls are Wolves

~~~~A Living Hell~~~~

3:00pm, April 16.

    It started small.

    For my standards, at least. Bullies aren't new for me. I'm the "grunt" of the litter. Small, weak, and untalented; easy prey for the fuck cunts of Manehatten Elementary, Fillydelphia Middle School, and Baltimare High. Summer Schools between included. You know, the ponies who are so God damned self-conscious they assail the ones who don't have time for their bigoted bullshit just to feel good about their own, sorry selves. They're the ones who grow up sucking some stallion's dick to earn a living, before making up excuses for the promiscuousness.

    Yeah. Those guys. When my mother dragged me to Baltimare, I was naturally the first one to get picked out by the new shit stains of my life. Pugnit, and the other two cunt biscuits I never bothered to learn the names of. It was for the most vapid, pugnacious, steriotypical reason you could think of: I was in his way. In the fucking *hallway!*** The Land of Bumping Into Others. He collided into me, driving my snout in the sharp corner of my open locker. While I was holding my bleeding nostrils, Pugnit actually mistook me for surpressing laughter. What dumb shit stick would ever think that a filly like me-- defenseless, weak, and crying-- would laugh? Oh, yeah, getting shoved into the bottom corner of your locker door is so fucking hilarious!

    ...Anyways, that's how it started. The name calling was next. I spent the first few nights of Fall screaming and crying in my pillow, the whispered quote by Pugnit my source: "Do you actually think you can laugh at me, bitch? You don't even look at me the wrong way. We're gonna have fun this year, Gaper." Gaper. I've been called a lot of indignant things, but Gaper was definitely the most vicious. "Mayonnaise and cream," "Whitey," "anorexic bitch," "Grunt," "Drug Addict," "horrible daughter," and "Stain" (Apparently that's what my name means. Thanks, Mom.) are all under my belt. But Gaper was the first one to actually shed tears.

    No bumping was nessesary for the next stage. You know the quote, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt"? Well, that's one of the most thickheaded pleads for fame I've ever heard. Seriously. Fuck whoever said that. Sturdy branches and hard rocks might make a great improvised defense (if you're willing to put up with being expelled), but they could never make an entire school hate you, force you to move from city to city, make you develope severe depression and addiction problems, or push you over the edge of a building. Pugnit's pretentious attempts at drawing tears were almost always successful, and that's what is truly angering. He threw insult after insult at me, taking quantity over quality for some days, and vise versa for others. I didn't want to indulge him, but his words always found a way under my fur. He basically took everything I had an ounce of respect for in myself, and marred it to filth. Really, the only thing he didn't bother to torment me about was my Manehatten accent. He didn't need to, though. Like I said, bullies aren't new for me.

    When Pugnit brought up the subject of my parents, that's when the third and final stage came in. Physical abuse. I don't even remember what he said exactly, but I do know it involved my dad, me, and fucking like there was no tomorrow. That lit the fuse of adrenaline. I was in the lunch room at that time, surrounded by onlookers and randoms. All of which, obviously, were on the handsome, strong, and "awesome" stallion's side when Principal Cyanside interfered. Pugnit suffered just some cuts and bruises, but he took it like I killed his entire family. After my suspension, I was greeted with turned cheeks, bad grades, and an exceptionally furious Pugnit.

    He's no "pusher," that's for sure. He prefers to get more intimate with his victims. He borderlines illegal. He's a fucking psycho, which was becoming more evident by each second I spent underwater.

    Struggling was the only choice. My magic was hopelessly weak, and Pugnit's hoof clasped around the sensitive apendage only added to the uselessness. I tried pulling him in, kicking off the pool wall, and screaming for help-- all of which were without leverage or results. My lungs burnt from the exhaustion of drowning, and each time I tried to pull myself up for air, my small legs couldn't do me justice.

    Pugnit's want to stay out of jail was the only reason I survived. When I coughed in my first mouthful of chlorinated water, he let go. My hooves reacted instantly, shooting out of the water and gripping the side of the pool before pulling myself up. Sweet, wholesome oxygen rushed into my mouth as I coughed and sputtered. Between my pathetic inhales and exhales, I heard chuckling.

    Ten seconds of spitting out the water, and I opened my eyes. In front of me was the... "pony" who had the pleasure of doing this shit. Pugnit, and his fucking terrifying gold eyes penetrating me. Around us was the dark room of the school's pool, the only light being the radiance of the blue water below. Behind him were his partners, the source of the chuckling. It was tinged with nervousness, though.

    I lurched my head down and slammed my eyes shut. I was not going to give Pugnit this victory. I was not going to cry for that fucker.

    "Do you remember what I said, Gaper?" I heard his deep voice resignate. I just stayed still, my lower hooves and tail weightless in the water. My ears flopped down to my skull. "...Your left ear. Perk it up. Now."

    I bit my lips. Clenched my teeth. Twisted my legs. I did everything to not cry. My eyes were squeezed shut, and my head was shaking from the effort. A shockwave of pain shot down me when Pugnit hit my horn.

    "Extend your fucking ear," he repeated. I didn't shake my head. I didn't do what he said. I was not going to let this become a regular thing. He wasn't getting his tears. Fuck him. "Fair is fair. You heard me say what would happen. You agreed to it.--" I didn't do a fucking thing. "--Thirty seconds underwater, or you get a free earpatch. You heard me right, didn't you, Gaper? Now perk up your EAR."

    I started panting. My ears stayed glued to my skull, yet I heard his knife dragging against the cement edge all too well. He wasn't getting this. It was fucking illegal. He can't be that stupid.

    My head stayed low. I peeked through my blurry vision to see the water underneath rippling from my shaking. This wasn't going to happen. This can't happen. It was illegal.

    Pugnit's teeth grabbed on to my ear, yanking it up. My head lurched upwards, and I screamed when blood was drawn. He was going to do this.

"Please don't," I heard myself whisper. The lump in my throat was building up, and tears were slowly welling. It was getting harder and harder to keep them at bay. "Please stop... Let me go..."

    "Hey, Pug, let's go," a voice suggested from behind him. One of Pugnit's friends had some common sense. "She gets the picture. C'mon, before she explains that to the Principal."

    Pugnit didn't answer immediately. He waited for some time, before I felt his hoof on my horn again, and I was pulled up. Despite my efforts, that final strike of pain destroyed the dams. Tears fell, even if I didn't cry. I had to flex my face to keep my lip from quivering. Pugnit saw this, and a grin slowly formed on his face. His gold eyes bore into mine, unwavering as his grip tightened. I bit my lips hard. I wasn't going to cry.

    "What are you, little colt?" Pugnit snapped. His eyes were a magnet to my gaze. I couldn't look away. I was too scared. "I said what the fuck are you, Gaper?"

    I sniffled, emitting a snicker from Pugnit's friends. It was getting harder and harder to not break down in tears, but I resisted. "...I'm pathetic, unloved, and insufferable. I should just hold my own head underwater until there's no more bubbles.."

    Those words broke my heart just as much as they did the first time, and the twenty six times after that. Pugnit, knowing I was pitifully close to breaking down, leaned in. "Don't you forget it."

    He shoved me underwater again. This time, though, I let myself sink. The sound of the three bullies laughing were caught by my bleeding ear, and that was enough. When my lungs were burning within ten seconds, I paddled up and to one of the lane buoies, threw my arms over it, and sobbed.

    I didn't care if those fuckshits heard me. I just cried as hard as I could, squeezing the floating line with my pathetically weak arms. My ugly, orange and black mane drooped over my even more so face, but I made no sign of moving it aside. They were right. I was hopelessly out of shape, small, and untalented. My magic could only carry light objects, one at a time, and my highest grade was a fucking C+. I was sixteen fucking years old, and not once had I ever gotten a hug from my parents, a coltfriend, or even just a Hearts and Hooves letter. I've only had three friends in my entire life, two of which in Manehatten. I couldn't go away, either. Then the cycle would just start again.

    I wish I could kill Pugnit. I wish I could stab his face again and again until it was nothing but brain matter. I would take the death penalty, too. I wish I could kill everypony at this fucking school... A suicide bombing would be perfect.

    But no. I couldn't. I wasn't smart enough to even find the ponies who sell that sort of weapon, and I would probably be too terrified to stab him once. He'd most likely just turn on me and kill me instead. Tell it off as "self-defense."

    I kept sobbing. My cheeks were numb, my arms were tired, and my eyes were burning. Why was I born like this? Why couldn't I be just a little taller, or a little more pretty, or a little more tolerable? In the movies, the bullied kids always had a certain quality that they had over the bullies. Smarter, kinder, or can shoot a gun better. I was none of those. A fucking wreck of a pony is what I am. I'm not even good at being... good. I'm anti-social, snappy, and... and...

    ...and unable to think up the simplest of things. A fucking waste of life.

    I hope Pugnit, and his two cunts as friends, would burn alive. No, scratch that, I want them to feel my fucking pain. I want society to hate them. I want them to be afraid to show their faces at school. I want their parents to not give a shit about them, and their friends to abandon them, and have horrifying words be thrown at them, and not be able to keep up with the kids at gym, and be badgered over and over because of their grades, and to not have enough money to run away because their mother takes everything they earn, and feel horrible about themselves, *and to go home every day wanting to kill themselves, and to look in the mirror and say the words "You are pathetic," and be forced to say those words to the FUCKING BULLIES AT SCHOOL!***

    I hit the water with a hoof. Obviously, it didn't give a huge impact. I hit it again and again, harder and harder, screaming and sobbing at this shit life...

    ...why don't I just kill myself? Because they would only laugh. Why don't I run away? Because mother takes away everything, and father will hunt me down.

    ...Why don't I get help?

    Because I don't deserve it.

~~~~The Unwilling King~~~~

3:00pm, April 16.

    Names are everything in this life.

    Take the famous Starswirl the Bearded (or however you spell that). Hugely talented unicorn. Wrote a book on spells. You know, the regular stuff that any undera...preciated(?) prodigy could do. But, his name had a ring to it: Starswirl the Bearded~. I mean, Starswirl's a cool name in itself, but add on that extra mmph? Nopony woulda denied it: he was the next big thing. Now, let's take a few more exampls. Princess Celestia. She's the monark here in Equestria: Goddess of the Sun, Protector of Canterlot, Ruler of Equestria. Yet... Princess. No, not queen, princess. Althouh there is some spekulation, I'm pretty sure it's the whole name thing again. Princess just sounds prettier! Was that why Queen Chrysalis was the Asshat Villain of Equestria for some time? Probably, but the fact she was queen of an evil army attacking Canterlot definitly helped.

    Now, take the name Goddian. It's not pretty. Neither is Poten, or Pugnit. Goddian sounds like a stallion who doesn't give a shit about his son. Poten sounds like a mare who abandons her family to join the Royal Guard in secrecy. And Pugnit? That sounds like the motherfucker who everypony hates.

    Yeah, the ponies at Baltimare High might say they adore me, but really, I know they're gonna backstab me one day. Literally. In all honesty, I don't expect to live through high school. Long story short, I had a bad start, and now I have to keep up this "tough guy" personna, and hate myself as much as everypony else does. But, I guess it's about the name again, or at least about my appearence. Yeah, I can bench twice my own weight. Yeah, I can do a few more dozen curls than the last guy. Yeah, I have Intermittent Explosive Disorder. Yeah, my name is fucking Pugnit. That doesn't mean I don't want some actual Celestia damn friends for once. Not two goons who follow me around all the time. I mean, they used to be my friends, but...

    You know what? Never mind. It doesn't matter. What matters is that since I'm ripped, and since I have a fucking tough guy name, and since I have anger issues which I can't get a therapist for, and since I have a fucked up life, I'm the bad guy. Just one angry outburst in the cafateria, and suddenly, oh my Celestia, he's a fucking bully!

    Not the explination you were expecting, huh? You were probably expecting, I'm just doing it so I can be cool! Yeah, all the cool kids are doin' it! I didn't mean it, really! *NO!*** I am fucking horrified at what I've become! I can't make a friend for the life of me, the teachers are too scared to flunk me, and Celestia dammit, I have to bully *Fleck** to keep up with my ego!*

    I mean...

    ...I didn't want her to laugh at me in the hallway. I mean, I knew she was crying, but those two assholes sure didn't think so, and I couldn't lose those guys. They're my pals. Were my pals, at least. They're good ponies, just... blinded, I guess. And I'm talking about Fleck, here. The small mare I always wanted to hang out with. Kinda snappy, but in a cute way. I saw her occasinally down the hall, and she's in a few of my classes, but yeah, I think she's cute. I dunno, maybe I'm messed up. But, she just... There's something about her that's enderring to me.

    ...It doesn't matter. She was small, and I was big. I thought I could pull off the whole 'little bud' thing with her, and somehow make everypony think she was just as vicious as I was (her awesome Manehatten accent could have capitlized on that), but that day in the hallway ruined it. I had to make her target number one. I didn't want to-- I wanted to ask her out, for Celestia's sake! I called her a Gaper. I tried to play it off as a warning, but one of my goons heard, and they just spread the word. Fleck the Gaper. I fucking hate myself when I see her cry behind her locker... I made that my limit. Whenever I saw her cry, I would back off.

    ...I still think it was my name. Why couldn't I be named something like... Cinnamon Swirl? Or, Vivacious Garden? Or, fuck, I dunno, Deadlift, at least. But no, Pugnit it was. So, school bully it was.

    I think I would at least be close to forgiving myself if I hadn't said that comment in the cafateria. I remember it perfectly: "Where're ya goin', Gaper? Home, so you can fuck your dad in the shower?"

    I hate myself just thinking about it. And the look on her face? I've seen that look on my own countless times: she had family problems, times a million aswell. Fleck went buserk. She tackled me and started punching and bucking mercylessly. Then, she took a knife, and started screaming and slicing me.

    I tried to shrug it off afterwards; I didn't want to hold a grudge! Especially against the first mare I actually liked! But the school just made it way too easy, and my Intermittent Explosive Disorder kicked into gear. I even got somepony to bribe the principal so Fleck wouldn't be expelled, and I could have revenge! I'm such a sick fuck, and there's no denying that now. After school today, I dragged her by the mane all the way to the pool, and actually threatened to cut off her ear if she couldn't stay underwater for thirty seconds. She was so out of shape, so fragile, and so Celestia damn terrified, she lasted only ten seconds.

    What the fuck is wrong with me?

    My hoof held firm as she struggled, her orange and black mane splayed out on the water's surface like a fan. I heard her faint yelling, and instantly knew she was screaming for help. But, nopony would help her. A small part of me hoped that somepony would rush in, anypony would stop me, but the majority of my brain was so pumped up with rage, and so satisfied with her suffering, I couldn't tell myself to stop. She bucked the pool wall from underwater, thrashed about her head, tried to cast a spell, but none would work. I felt myself grinning, but saw myself crying.

    "Pugnit," I heard from behind. My head whisped to my side furiously.

"What?" I snapped before I could stop myself. It was Gingerale who had spoken. He visibly stepped down, but verbally pressed forward.

    "She's dying," he said simply.

    I don't know what happened, but my hoof had an instant reaction. It let go immedietly, letting the mare below jerk up and out of the water, gasping and coughing for air. I was frozen in place. I couldn't look anywhere but the filly I had threatened to kill. Her snow white back was bleeding and scraped from earlier, via my dragging across the tile. Her orange and black mane was drenched with water, and her horn slowly flitted in and out of power. I wanted to kill myself at the sight of her.

    Nervous chuckling erupted from the stallion and mare behind me. It was then I realized I was staring at Fleck like an idiot. I quickly reverted to glaring, but when she looked up at me, I just froze again. There they were: her richly violet eyes. They were tear reddened and wide with fear, and for a moment, I felt scared, too. But then, the moment was over, and Fleck lurched her head downward. Her mane fell over her face, blocking it from my view.

    "Please... just cry for me," I heard myself whispering so quiet nopony could hear. "End this... I have to do this if you don't..." Thankfully and unfortunatly, the two ponies behind me drowned out the plead. Fleck did not cry.

    "Do you remember what I said, Gaper?" I warned. If she didn't cry, I had to do this. Her ears flopped down to her skull, breaking my already destroyed heart. It was becoming harder to talk. I had to spit out short sentences. "Your left ear. Perk it up. NOW."

    She didn't cry. She didn't budge. Why wouldn't she cry? Just end this for both of us. I tried slapping her horn, making a pained squeak erupt from her shivering body.

    Please... somepony stop me.

    "Extend your fucking ear," I snapped. I felt myself shaking at her response: absolutely nothing. Why wouldn't she cry? Even more anger was seeping into my brain. Every second she spent immune to my threats was a second in Tarturus for me. I needed to stop myself from doing this. I needed to remind her what was going to happen. "Fair is fair. You heard me say what would happen. You agreed to it.--" She didn't do a fucking thing. "--Thirty seconds underwater, or you get a free earpatch. You heard me right, didn't you, Gaper? Now perk up your EAR."

    Stop me, Fleck. I can't. I lost control a long time ago.

    I heard her panting. It pained me, but I pressed on to get to the end. I bent down and dragged the knife across the cement edge, just to get that reaction I needed. When no reaction was given, my anger issues kicked in. Before I knew it, I lurched forward and bit her ear before dragging her face out of the water. She screamed out of pain, and I lef go instantly. Fleck gave me a tortured stare.

"Please don't," she whispered, her voice only accompanied by the slow sloshing of the pool. "Please stop... Let me go..." Her head slowly sank again.

    "Hey, Pug, let's go," I heard Gingerale say from behind. My eye twitched. He called me Pug. "She gets the picture. C'mon, before she explains that to the Principal."

    I looked down at Fleck. She was curling into a ball unintentionally, her left ear glued to her skull. The trail of blood leaking from the red half moon on her ear was slowly drooling down her face. I reached down and grabbed her horn, before yanking her face up to mine. Tears were gliding down her cheeks, but she wasn't fully crying. She was trying her hardest to keep the eyes from wavering, or her chin from vibrating. She was biting her lips so hard it was a wonder they didn't bleed.

    It didn't count, though.

    "...What are you, little colt?" I snapped. It was just another insult I threw at her every day. "...I said what the fuck are you, Gaper?"

    She sniffled. The two assholes behind me snickered, adding to my rage. "...I'm pathetic, unloved, and insufferable. I should just hold my own head underwater until there's no more bubbles."

    "Don't you forget it," I spat, before shoving her head underwater. I couldn't watch anymore. I was instantly up and walking away, while the two goons laughed from behind, following. I didn't glance back at Fleck, I just trotted straight forward, turned to my right to the exit, and pushed my way out of the double doors. Around me was a small, dark corridor only ten or so feet long, connected to another set of double doors, these ones leading to the lit innards of Baltimare High.

    Just moments before those doors behind me closed, I heard Fleck crying. And, Gingerale and his companion still laughing. That was enough.

    I instantly turned on the stallion, grabbing him by the neck and throwing his side against the wall. Behind me, the remaining mare shut up. I wasn't finished with Gingerale, however, and slammed a forearm on his neck before pressing, hard. He instantly gasped out, but so great was his shock he couldn't retaliyate.

"Don't you fucking laugh," I spat, pressing harder. "If I have to endure two more seconds of your blind chuckling, I will fucking shove a cactus up your asshole. SHUT the FUCK. UP."

    Gingerale didn't respond for some time. He only stared, mortified, at me. But before he could even think of fighting back, he was nodding vigerusly. He mouthed the word: "Sorry."

    A few more seconds of strain, and he was relieved. I released him, letting him drop down to all fours, gasping as he held his neck. His partner hesitantly trotted to his side, before checking his neck. I only turned away, still furious.

    I took some deep breaths, and all was fine. I used this method only for my friends, not for Fleck... She didn't need it from me.

    I turned around. The mare backed off. "I'm sorry, dude," I apologized, draping an arm over Gingerale. He took some time, but eventually returned the hug. I gave him a few hearty pats. "Sorry, man."

    "It's all good," he said simply. We stayed like that, patting each other's backs and apologizing.

    Like it or not, I was the bully of the school. But, I wasn't bias.

~~~~The Walls are Wolves~~~~

3:00pm, April 16.

    Names, and the meanings attached to them, don't mean anything.

    Take myself, for example. "Summer Monsoon." Crazy, energetic, escatic, and constantly on a rollar coaster in his mind. Perhaps he's had a rough life, aswell? Is his favorite season Summer? Well, no, no, and no. I've had a relatively decent life; good grades ranging from B's to A's, never really had a problem with bullies (I know when to avoid somepony), got my cutie mark at a decent age. Sure, I've had some stumps on the way, like divorced parents and a few deaths, but everypony has trials. Different, yes, but is anything truly more traumatizing than something else? I like comparing losing a loved one to losing a childhood pet, and there's not much difference; just the way you take it.

    And Winter is definitely the best season. No question about it. It's just beautiful all around! I sometimes like to take my best friend, Fleck, outside to just lay in the snow and look up in the sky. It's a lot more fun than it sounds; you should try it sometime, if you feel like it.

    Fleck's an... interesting mare, to say the least. She rarely talks, unless she's with me, and when she does she tends to be on the sassy side. It's cute, in a way. She's a bit on the smaller side, but I never bring that up. White coat, orange and black mane and tail (both unkept), and beautiful violet eyes. She doesn't really talk about herself, so I talk about her for her. It sounds weird, but I think it really helps her. I might not know anything about her personal life, but if I know anything, it's that everypony has a story.

    Nopony's a secondary character in this life, or an extra to be put in a crowd. Treat them with respect and kindness; you don't know their battles. That's an important thing to remember, which is exactly what I've done.

    ...I've gone way off track. Point is, names aren't something to lable somepony, they're merely something used to address them as. Even then, we add on the term "Mr." and "Mrs." when we're being respectful. I really think that, if the world knew that, it'd be a better place. Or... The Baltimare Hospital would, at least.

    "So, what's your plan to get me out?"

    That was the question to stir myself from my daze. I shook my head a little, shaking out the dizzying feeling of self regret. When the endeavor was completed, I politely looked my sister in the eye again. "Excuse me?"

    She seemed to be disheartened at my misunderstanding, but pressed on nevertheless. Her blue-green eyes full of commitment, Sunset Auburn repeated her statement. "Your plan, Summer, to get me out. I know you have one-- you can't possibly leave me here with these psychos. I'm better now, but the doctors won't listen! Please, tell me your plan."

    I felt my head shaking calmly and gently. I scooted my chair forward to her hospital bedside, draping my hooves over hers. "The doctors know what they're doing, Auburn. Don't worry. You'll spend a few more days in here, but after that, you're coming home."

    "Why would you come if you didn't have a plan?" Auburn snorted. She moved her hooves from under my own. "You love me, don't you?"

    I stayed silent, knowing she knew the answer. My hooves rested on the cushion, unwanting to retreat back to my sides. However, when my sister eyed them with contempt, they did just that. I knew how the drill went, so I let her talk first.

    "They're giving me drugs, Summer," she tried.

    "It's medication," I corrected. "Not the kind of drugs you're thinking of."

    "They put me to sleep," Auburn continued, nodding slightly. "Medication doesn't do that, Summer. Medication is supposed to help ponies."

    I felt my ears perk unintentionally. "They're helping you in more ways than I think you know. Plus, they're good drugs. You need to let go of the bad ones."

    "They took those away from me," she whined. "How could I not let go of them? They landed me in here, didn't they? Summer, I really hate it here. I can't leave my room, they won't listen when I tell them about the monsters, they gave me a number for a name... I promise I won't do any more bad stuff. Can you at least talk to the nurse? Nurse Vivacious Swan, her name is. She's the only nice one here."

    I zoned out at the middle of her rant. I leaned back in the chair, my eyes never leaving Auburn's. "They gave you a number for a name?"

    She nodded. "374. I don't like that name, Summer. I like Sunset Auburn! I want to be called my name. You're the only one who calls me by name."

    I nodded. "I know. I try to come over as much as I can."

    "Why don't we escape this place? You know I'm sane, Summer. You know I'll never-ever do any of that bad stuff again. If the Guard comes after us, we can just run away!"

    I couldn't help but smile. 12 years old or not, she was imaginative as heck. She'll make a great writer. "But then you won't be able to write any stories for me." An idea came to mind. I said the following to persuade her to leave this subject be: "Do you have any new works? They let you write, don't they?"

    "Oh, yeah! Vivi lets me write all the time. She listens to my poems, and my stories. She says I remind her of somepony." Sunset Auburn scooted to the other side of her bed, before bending out and over to pick up something. She reached to the desk just beside her, pulling off a plain, black notebook with lined paper. Her wings flapped excitedly as she flipped through the lined paper. As the blurred whiteness blended page after page, I caught glimpses of scribbled drawings of monsters. A lump appeared in my throat.

    "Excuse me," a feminine voice sounded from behind. I turned to see one of the nurses of the hospital. She was smiling, although I could tell it was a bit forced. "Sweetie, you know you can't bring out any accessories when there's visitors."

    Sunset Auburn gave the nurse a look as if she had just stabbed a box of kittens. I calmed her with a hoof on her own, squeezing gently. Her blue-green eyes were still wide with betrayal, though, which was the most painful to watch.

    "It's alright, Sunny," I urged comfortingly. "You can read to me all day long. Just wait a few more, kay? You'll be out before you know it."

    The nurse gave me an apologetic look before walking out.

    Meanwhile, I smiled before patting her arm. "It could be worse. Other ponies have it harder, I'm sure. Everypony has a story, remember?"

    "No main characters or extras in life," she sighed.

    I nodded, my smile turning into a toothy grin. "I'll come back to pick you up in a few days, kay? I love you. We all do." With that, I leaned in and planted a kiss on her forehead. She hugged me from underneath, her notebook falling to her lap. It was face-up, so I stole a glance at the writing:

The wolves are the walls in this life.

Every day is spent fearing their presence.

They wish to hunt me, to mangle me. To trap me.

They slowly close in, every day, every night.

I can't hide. I can't fight back.

I can only wait and see who will come first: the pack, or the fire.

The fire's eyes is glowing green with rage.

But it is a good rage, because it is for me.

The fire is hotter than most. It gleams purple, and its edges are tinged with brown and black.

It is beautiful, the strong, stubborn force of nature. It is kind.

Summer Monsoon is my fire. He comes to chase away the pack.

He comes to chase away the walls.

He comes to save me.

He comes to protect me.

He comes to keep me.

Nopony else will.

    The writing faded to scribbles and gibberish, taking up the entire sheet of small paper. I kissed Sunset Auburn's head again, and once again, reminded her that I love her.