All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return.

I awoke breathless. Unable to breathe. Unable to think. I could feel the constriction around my neck, the pounding in my head, veins throbbing and bulging from my forehead, and my face bloated. I heard faint screaming, a man calling for me to be cut down. I couldn't think, the pain of everything had me reeling.

All thoughts of ponies and Equestria were totally blitzed from my mind as I felt my body hit the floor with a hard thump. Coughing and choking as I felt hands upon my face, prying fingers getting under the rope crawling in my skin. The fingers hurt, and the rope had cut deep, bleeding me in places.

The memories of the dead deepened in my mind. For that was all they were now. Dead memories of dead ponies. They existed only as I remembered them, and the things I'd done to them. Was it all a dream? Was this happening?

I felt myself being propped up, and my swollen face felt light, my vision blurry as a man shone a directed shoulder lamp in my eyes. "Can you hear me son?" I heard him ask.

"Yes... I *cough* can he-hear you." I hacked up blood, the rope had clearly done more damage than I'd thought. My vision returned and I saw Harry on his knees with several of his cronies, and several other soldiers from my unit holding them at gunpoint.

"One of these turncoats had conscious. Called me on the radio. Sorry, I wasn't reviewing the exercise so close, I was called away to assess a terrorist threat. It was just one of those drone strikes, we'll get 'em' tomorrow." It was the Drill Sergeant, he patted my shoulder, shaking his head and explaining "We heard this fucker wanted to kill you the cause of your sexuality? Not in my Marines."

"Ooo-rah," called the other marines standing over. There were more lights now, my facial swelling going down as Harry came into focus, crying out "I didn't mean to go so far! I just wanted to teach the fag a lesson! I like my little pony as well! I just have better fucking taste!"

"My little who?" the Drill Sergeant asked. "Is this one of them Fortnite things? Fucking flunkies we gettin' these days, barely left diapers. Now we're scraping the bottom of the barrel. GOD DAMNIT!" He flung his hat down and with an exasperated groan said "You boys, is so green, you might as well be slapped on the side of a can of corn. Killing someone over some shitty video game is bad enough, but a fellow marine!? I'll see you three court-martialed and jailed for life. Hell, I'd line you up against the wall myself. Eye for an eye and shit. Just like Iraq."

Harry was on the floor in tie cuffs. He seemed to calm down a little and shuffled from the floor. He might have been up to something, but I was still so groggy it was hard to tell.

"S-sir, my little pony is a show made by Lauren Faust and features the main characters including Twilight Sparkle, Spike, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity, and Fluttershy. It's like Game of Thrones, but way more interesting and evolved," I explained.

"So it's a kiddo show for little girls. Are you actually a homosexual? It's okay son, don't ask don't tell, and all that jazz. I can't say God or I agree with your lifestyle, but who am I to deny your degeneracy if it can serve this here United States of America, the greatest nation on the planet!"

I wanted to say Equestria was the best, but my head began to hurt, my nose bleeding, possibly from the brink of death I'd just escaped from, but something seemed... off.

Cause this isn't real still. It's just so close to reality you're starting to forget again. Don't forget, we need to get out of here.

I felt like I was losing my mind... Again. But just before I could think deeper on the matter, Harry broke free from his cuffs, flicking a pair of aviators from his side pouch on his vest he put them on, before pulling the Glock 19 with a 4-inch barrel, 15+1 capacity, and a railed frame from one of the guarding soldier's holsters and doing a back-flip.

He shot one in the eye and the other in the neck, before raising the gun at the Drill Sergeant. My mind went into Ulta-adreneline mode as time seemed to slow down. I hurriedly with lightning-fast reactions grabbed the Sergeant's gun and aimed it at Harry, in the middle of him saying "Nothing... perrsonnaalll.... kiiiiddddd."

*BANG*

Harry stood for a full few seconds, the gun slumping to his knees before he lost control of his hands and dropped it. He stumbled forward, his mouth uttering a faint "Dweeb," before he fell to his knees, the bullet in his brain killing him as his face mushed into the mud and blood of the floor. A fitting death for a monster. No ceremony. I put him down like a rabid dog.

The Sergeant looked shocked, two of his men having been killed by a rogue marine with a penchant for extreme bullying and of course lynching and now he'd committed treason. "I seriously have to talk to those recruitment guys. How this fucker made it past the psych eval brings a lot into question. Son, I owe you my life and a debt. Who knows what this monster would have done if he escaped? I'm giving you the medal of honor."

He pulled the bright gold medal from his chest pocket and I felt tears well up in my eyes. "This medal... it's an honor, sir!" I saluted, feeling pride as the rain pelted my face lightly. It was over. I had made it out of the madness and I was back in the real world.

I sighed as I heard the shots ring out. It was such a sad day. I had killed Harry, but the other two soldiers who'd been with the Drill Sergeant weren't so lucky. I watched as the kids and wives of the family filtered out of the cemetery. Wearing my ceremonial uniform for the funeral I shook their hands individually, the youngest child, Martha, holding a Rainbow Dash plush.

"Good taste, sorry for your loss, F" I sighed sadly, shaking her small hand before patting her on the head. These soldiers had died so that I could live. I would never forget their sacrifice. "So take your place of honor, among those who have gone before, and know you'll be remembered, for now, and evermore. Rest in peace guys."

I finished the poem and stepped up to their coffins, running my white-gloved hand over the mahogany-treated wood. It felt like the right thing to do. I pulled a set of Mane 6 stickers and put a Rarity on one and a Fluttershy on the other. It's what they would have wanted. The ponies would see them to the golden gates of Olympus."

Some of the crowd looked upon me with a frown, but they also knew I'd taken out Harry and so respected me. I saluted and felt a tear roll down my cheek before stepping away. I had one more stop to make.

Taking a black procession car I went to the other side of the graveyard. Harry wasn't allowed in the veterans plot. Due to his posthumous dishonorable discharge. Nobody had come to see him off, only the janitor was there, eating an egg mayo and cress sandwich whilst listening to Cemetary Gates by Panterra on his Sony walkman.

"You knew this guy? Piece o' shit I heard," he snorted, spitting onto the coffin a globule of mayo-spittle. "Watch it, he may have been a monster, but he was a brony."

The janitor looked at me with irreverence. Of course, he didn't know what I was talking about and he wandered off to finish his sandwich in peace. I put my hand on the coffin and sighed. I'd thought a lot about my death hallucinations. The thoughts of a dying brony. I was no longer a pony in Equestria yet I felt my travels through my inner mind had strengthened me. I ripped a spike sticker off and placed it on Harry's coffin. "It's all you deserve," I smiled, patting the wood before adding "And Rainbow is not over-hyped. She's got more personality than you ever will now. Dweeb."

I cleared my throat and uttered "The declaration predicates all free but compromise dilutes its moral core. You diluted that core to the nth degree, Harry. I hope you rot in Tartarus forever."

I left the Graveyard and sighed, lighting up a smoke and leaning against a tree. Watching as one side filled with family and friends filtered out of the Graveyard and the other, where the Janitor returned to start burying Harry's body. I felt no remorse, but I didn't feel happy either. I wanted to go home and catch the next episode of mlp. I heard they were also bringing a movie out. That was going to be awesome.

"What's the point in watching? You could have lived it, Dweeb," Harry said from over my shoulder. I spun on a dime, ready to combat the zombie of Harry, but there was nothing. "Fuck... hold it together," I murmured to myself. "You couldn't hold a fucking ream of A4 Paper, you dumb cunt."

It was Harry's voice again, and it was behind me, I spun again but he wasn't there. "You ghost fucker, that's it!"

I stormed over to the coffin with Harry's, prying open the lid, much to the Janitor's chagrin. "I will not have you being a psychological fucking ghost bitch, I'm going to teabag your fucking head whether you're alive or dead in there!" I called out, the Janitor running to get someone as I opened the coffin.

It hissed, under pressure and revealed nothing. There was nobody, just a set of unwanted textbooks from some school. "What the fuck?" I questioned and looked around. I hadn't shot him up, he wasn't disfigured beyond the bullet in his head. It made no sense to give him an undisclosed burial.

Maybe he had been cremated? Then why was there a gravestone if he had no family to mourn? I went to check the Spike sticker I had left and saw it had been replaced by The Rainbow Dash. I checked the sticker sheet, and it was full of nothing but Spikes. "What the fuck is going on!?"

"Wouldn't you like to know dweeb? You've forgotten so much. You still think this is real. I might be dead, but bitch I will fuck with your head every second I can. I will leer over you until you die a miserable death. Hopefully, in 80 years, I hope they lock you up and throw away the key."

Harry's words were right over my shoulder again, and this time I threw a fast punch, but it connected with nothing but thin air.

"I don't deserve this!" I screamed. "What the buck is your problem!?!?" I cried, tears streaming down my face. I had beaten the bullies. I had established after so long that you could be both a brony and a military. Why did I deserve psychological problems!? I was better than all of this. I didn't deserve my mind to turn on me, not after all the discrimination I'd faced whilst growing up!

Discrimination? This isn't real. Please, you're fighting me. You need to get out like you've been doing. You're so desperate for a persecution complex it's destroying you. If you stop now, you will die here, in the filth and madness you've created. Please, we want to live.

It was like a hand from the deep. A voice that picked me up on wings of gold and lifted me above. My mind hurt, burning in pain, throbbing in agony. "This isn't real, what's real? AM I REAL!? WHO AM I!?!??!?!?!?" I screamed.

"My name is Steven Fire, I am a Corporal in the 8th Infantry Regiment outside of Colorado. I am a Marine. I am a brony. I am a MILITARY BRONY! I am a person! I AM REAL!"

I collapsed into a ball on the floor, shaking and sweating. I was literally shaking right now, unable to process what everything meant. Was this the last stage? It felt so real. But then so did Equestria. If I killed myself now, I would lose it all. The respect, the brotherhood, and even the show maybe!? What was out there for me? Anything? Nothing? Everything? I didn't want to know and yet my body yearned and compelled me to find out. I needed to escape.

I had to finish, what I'd started.

I looked for any way out. A passing car, a cop with a gun. I saw the janitor marching back with a few grave hands and realised that there was a way out after all. I jumped into Harry's empty coffin, pushing the books aside. "Can't give me a minutes of peace without jumping into my grave huh?" He sneered from behind, but I ignored him. A manifestation of madness. Madness I was going to end, one way or another.

When the Janitor returned he explained "I thought he was messing with the coffin, but he probably was just doing some weird shit. Heard he's not all there, killed this fucker so probably has issues as well. Let's get this thing in, I need to go home, my daughter is watching a new episode of my little pony and I promised I'd watch it with her."

Damn... I'd forgotten the new episode was on tonight. Actually why did I care so much, I needed to stop thinking! This wasn't real, and even when I felt the *clunk* of dirt hitting the coffin I didn't think anything of it. Knowing that my death would be soon.

Little did I know. I thought that it took a minute to suffocate, but with the madness and adrenaline fading after 15 minutes with the sound of dirt as well, I realized that I would miss the episode of mlp and also that I was in for a long and painful death.

The first hour was okay, I breathed in a controlled manner and kept calm, but the walls of the coffin were drawing closer, and soon I began to hyperventilate. Being Trapped with only my own mind I began to question my logic. I had just shot a fellow soldier a week ago and also been hung by the neck by him and my comrades. I was probably going through an episode of PTSD and had just made a bad decision. It didn't explain Harry's missing body, but there were plenty of other sound mind explanations.

"Hey... HEY! LEMME OUT LEMME OUTTA HERE FUCK NO LEMME OUT I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING! NONONONONONO Wait wait wait... WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT!!" I screamed, banging on the coffin, pleading with someone to hear me.

Nobody came for me, and I heard Harry's laughing, taunting voice. There the time, telling me what a rube I was. How only an idiot chooses to die by being buried alive.

Hours ticked by as I began to sweat and turn. I was breathing faster, trying to stay calm but unable to. Was this it? Was my last act to commit suicide? If there was a God I would never see his pearly gates due to committing suicide. "Please Lord, Jesus. Rainbow Dash. PLEASE SAVE ME!" I cried, sobbing into the funeral fabrics. Did I deserve this? I felt like I didn't, but another small part of me felt like I did.

I would see who was right soon, I felt sleepy and tired. Like a toddler who'd cried themselves out. There was no more fighting to do. There was no more marching to march.

I was a good soldier. I was a good brony. I was a great military brony, and I had finished my last mission. It was time to retire...

I felt myself slip away...

Waking up I felt the sleep covering my eyes crackle. I coughed, my throat as dry as the desert. Dust coated my face and I felt sweaty, smelly, and beyond disgusting. I shifted, my belly quite a size as I tried to sit up, finding that my muscles were almost akin to jelly. "What," I rasped, shifting onto my behind, sitting in the middle of my stained duvet.

I raised my fists, rubbing my eyes from the sleep, bloodshot and pained, looking around the dingy room. It was mid-day but the only light came from a segment of curtain that had detached from its rungs, letting in a dribble of outside.

Natural light showing the hell. The room was covered in filth. Pizza boxes lay around from all sorts of dates. Some are probably decades old and others only a few days, maybe weeks. I wasn't sure how long I'd been asleep. Sometimes I was able to sleep days, but this felt way worse...

There were empty cans of beer, energy drinks, and soda towered on my desk and side table. There was gunk growing from an empty ice cream bucket. Mold coated every corner of the room and several plates, at least the ones you could see. The rest of the floor was trodden in with clothes, trash, and shame.

There were posters of Evangelion, Cowboy beep-boop, and Beserk all across my wall, some damaged due to the lack of care in general. There were a few figurines of G1 ponies all around me though I didn't have an extensive collection I did enjoy the show for its colors. Twilight, Applejack, Posey, Gusty, and Fizzy were all here.

I looked a calendar that had fallen onto the floor, stained brown by what I hoped was coca-cola. It had March 25th circled with 'MATRIX' above. I remembered now. I'd gone to see the movie, been so enamored, and gotten blindingly hopped up on pills and drink. I looked at my side table, seeing the pills in question. MDMA, I'd probably taken half the bottle. Fuck, this was wild. I had been abusing myself and my body for years but after the film, I'd somehow convinced myself I could escape my shitty life with pills and alcohol to rub it out. Escape into a fantasy, the real world.

Suddenly I felt my stomach turn and I leaned over the side of the bed, vomiting up a sludge of green and brown. I felt terrible. I probably looked worse. I checked my digital watch and saw that it was on April 1st. So it hadn't been a day, it had been five. No wonder I felt extra terrible. I'd been in some sort of coma for a week. I'd probably been fired from my pizza delivery job and I definitely had shit myself.

I held my head in my hands. I had tried to escape my demons out here and had only made things worse. I had done such fucking weird and shit things in my mind and then backtracked to get out and see what my real life was. Turned out that it was a pile of absolute dogshit.

The irony of the date wasn't lost on me. This felt like some kind of out-of-season April Fool joke. Only it was in season, and also on the exact date.

I wanted to weep but was so dehydrated nothing came to me. I crawled to the bathroom and turned on the faucet, freshining up and staring into the mirror. This was it. This was really me.

Bloodshot brown eyes. I had long, combed-over black hair that was terribly styled. My beard was patchy and amounted to peach fuzz all across my neck. My flabby chin amounted to just under 3, and my face was stained yellow from vomit and other things I'd probably spewed out in my five days.

"So this is what I came back for huh?" a deep voice asked. It was my voice. I wasn't in the military, and I was barely a little pony fan. Billy Roberts was my name. I had a mediocre High School education. I had never had a girlfriend, I was terribly overweight and depressed.

I smiled at the face in front of me. How many times had I hated that look? Hated me and wanted an out. I'd taken anti-depressants, alcohol, and weed. Anything to smother the pain. I'd eaten myself happy and I'd escaped into the worlds of anime, mlp, and gaming. Sims City and Sonic and all sorts of fake things that made me temporarily happy. I'd created so many worlds and stories all off the top of my head, and that had probably contributed to the madness of my self-induced pill coma.

I didn't want to hurt the face in front of me, and neither did I pity it. I realized now that this was the chance I needed. Maybe I would never be successful or special. Maybe I'd never have people depend on me, but that didn't matter. No, what really mattered was my own health and state of mind, and I was going to change that, starting from right now.

I turned the faucet and the shower kicked into life. I was going to get myself clean, and then get clean. I was going to muck out the dirt and the grime of my rented room and then I was going to do some laundry. I'd lost my job that was clear, but I still had some savings. When I'd sorted out my home, I was going to get back on the horse. Finding another job, maybe delivering food was too much of a temptation. Maybe I could get something a little more active, like a waiter role? So long as I cleaned myself up a bit I was sure I'd be okay.

I looked back at the face and let out a yellowed smile, my dental hygiene was not the greatest either. I would change that though. Everything was in my control.

I just had to take the first step.

Maybe if I worked hard I could become a comic book artist? Or perhaps even a writer? The world was my oyster, but I could only dream. Now was the time for work, and I was happy. For the first time in a long time, genuine happiness. This was my life, it wasn't much but it was mine. I would make it better. I would be better.

Sipping on my coffee I checked my Rolex and sighed happily. I looked out at the city of New York and smiled. It was far more enamoring than my country bumpkin town in the mid-west.

I owned the office I was in. I owned the floor in fact and had several people working for me. Things had gone well in the past two years. I had changed so much and many people had congratulated me on my efforts to alter my life.

I had dropped 300 pounds in the first year of my new lifestyle. I had met my wife at the gym, funnily enough, Margret, the woman who I could honestly say had pushed me to be better. I was now a healthy 110 pounds and pretty chiseled, having lost the weight but gained a significant amount of muscle. I had started out as a bartender, ironically I hadn't touched a drop of alcohol in 2 and a half years. I smiled, pearly whites glistening in the window, my thin shaved face staring back at me.

I thought about it all. How I'd done art at night school. Passionately practice in my off time and sometimes at work. I'd gotten a job for 6 months at a comic book company and in my free time used what I'd learned to start this business. Dark Pony Comics. The company had just sold 5 million copies of my first original story-line, where a young man fights his inner demons in a magical world. A story from the heart, I had taken a lot of inspiration, not that anybody could tell.

I still recalled my time in 'Equestria' a land I had obscurely made up with all new characters and scenarios. Frankly, it was impressive, but the dark things I had done hadn't defined me. If anything it had proven that although I had been in a hole, I was capable and had managed to climb out of it. For that I was grateful for the horrific few days I'd lain in a coma.

I exited my office and smiled. My staff was holding a celebration today for the 1 year anniversary of the company. I looked up at the banner on the wall which read 'Happy 1 Year Anniversary, September 11th 2001!' everyone enjoying a nice piece of cake.

Julien, a hire from Puerto Rico thrust a piece of cake into my hands. "Here you go, sir! It's fudge!"

I smiled graciously but declined. "Sorry Julien, but Mommy's back at home and nearly at term and this Dad has to stay in shape to run track, that's what I'll need to keep up with the little nipper in a year's time. I've got my whole life ahead of me, and I've got to stay healthy. Please, enjoy the party."

"Sure thing boss, but you're missing outttttt!"

I sighed and smiled. I'd built a lovely staff here on floor 97 of the tower. New York was definitely the best place to pick a company like this. I had made Dark Pony Comics global and we were on track for 10 million in sales with our next comic series.

I stared out the window on this bright and clear Tuesday morning. Looking at my watch again I saw it was 8:44 am. My secretary came up to me and asked "This is the new image for Siege Fire you wanted for the comics. How old was he to be?"

I looked down at the picture of a stallion. "28, the same age as me two years ago."

"I should be able to remember that, that's right..." she trailed off, looking out of the window with me as my eyes glazed over in thought.

"What a day," she murmured, standing back and folding her arms. I looked out over the expanse, thinking about saying something.

In the end, I let her words hang in the air. There was nothing more to say. I felt as if my soul was leaving my body, panning out from the window and zooming outwards into the empty space beyond the twin towers.

Remember Me.

Author's Note

The fiction is over. I feel complete. I will probably take some questions, but essentially I have decided to move on. I will update this in a blog, but I hope you have all enjoyed reading this passion project over the past 7 years. I think it is time to move on.

My thanks to you all and to the inspiration of My Little Pony, The Big Bang Theory, Sonichu, Nostalgia Critic and numerous Animes and Manjas.

Signing off, for the last time

BiggiePeace