I sit in a dark corner in the back of my house, listening to the sound of my ears and the occasional clip-clopping of ponies outside my door. I have my legs pressed up against my chest, with my arms wrapping around them. Tears, long since dried, I sit, waiting, for a glimmer of hope, that maybe, just maybe, it'll be OK. I look towards my kitchen, eyeing the knives, then burying my head into my knees. My eyes return to it's familiar damp feeling, as I sob silently...
"I never meant to hurt anyone. No one at all," my sobs intensify as more and more tears pour out of my eyes. The images of the last few days jump back at me. This is what happened...
I sit in Sugarcube corner, happily eating some cake Pinkie had so delightfully served to me, her squeaky happy-go-lucky voice being music to my ears. I chew happily on the last bite, being sure to leave some bits on the table as a tip. I stand up, and head out the door, a nice wide smile on my face. Little did I know, it just might be the last smile to elicit from my face again.
`I tread down the dirt road, and up at to my cottage. I see my door open, and I get a slight twinge of anger, and fear. I am known for having a really short fuse, mind you. I open my door slightly with a long, drawn out creak. I hear a small gasp, and my anger kindles into something more powerful. I swear to god, if Twilight is in here again, I will punch her in the muzzle so hard. My thoughts are now clouded by hate.
More streams of tears fall down my face. I shiver slightly, just remembering what ensued was too much. I shakily get up and walk over to my door. I more hobble over there, from the several bruises I got from only hours earlier. I'm grateful that I didn't get anything broken, but... Almost everybody in Ponyville hates me now, for what I did... I open up the door, rays of light stream into my cottage. I take a step outside, and look around, holding the right side of my ribs. A few ponies who were near by glare at me, with the intensity of the sun itself. I don't even wipe the tears off of my face, before I'm already hobbling down toward Twilight's place. I've said sorry many, many times before. None of them seemed as pitiful as this one. I gulp down my pride, as I see Twilight's castle in the distance. Another tear rolls down my face, as I reach the golden staircase, and sit on it. More tears, and more pitiful sobs.
I walk into my house, anger and adrenaline coursing through my veins. I can't think right, everything is foggy, and red. I rush into my livingroom to see Twilight, like a deer caught in the headlights, looking at me. She is obviously afraid, and she should be. I stomp over to her and grab her horn. I draw my fist back, and she looks at me terrified, and stunned.
"I TOLD YOU!" One punch in the muzzle, a shrill scream following, "NOT TO GO," another punch in the muzzle, another scream, and a sob, "INTO MY HOUSE!" One final punch, and I let go of her horn. I shake my head, as if waking up from a trance, and look at my painful knuckles. They are covered in blood. I look at Twilight who has tears streaming down her face, sobbing quietly. I reach out towards her, myself shocked at my actions, she jumps, and runs out the door.
I wrap my arms and legs around my chest, and sob quietly for god knows how long. The only noise I hear is the angry grunts of nearby ponies, and my own crying. I hear the castle doors open behind me, then close after what sounded like a painful gasp. More memories...
"Oh my god! What happened!" A voice booms out from outside. I look down at my hands, one spattered in blood, and one... Not spattered in blood.
A muffled voice replies, "A-Ahnern perched me een da mrrzleee!" Another sob.
I look back with tear stricken eyes, to see Twilight glaring at me intensely from her castle doors, a prominent cast is on her muzzle. Neither of us exchange words, as I already get the message. I stand up, and hobble away from the castle. I trip and fall to the ground, looking back, a random stallion had tripped me. I look down, I deserve every bit of this punishment. I stand up slowly, hobbling away from the castle. I look back, to see Twilight, Rarity, and Applejack walking in my general direction. I limp slightly faster, in fear that they might beat me up. I get up to my house.
Screams erupt from outside, and what seemed like a stampede coming inside, I dash out the back door.
I shake my head, and immediately regret it as twinges of red hot pain bolt of my spine. I massage my neck with my good hand, and enter the musky smelling house. I shut my door gingerly, and get into the bathroom. Pills, pills, pills galore, each one for each issue. Ones for anger, ones for depression, ones for pain. I lower my head, contemplating the easy solution to a hard problem. I take out 3 pills, one for each issue. I walk into my kitchen and grab some hard cider. I plop the pills into my mouth, and take a swig of the alcohol. Walking back, I wipe off the remaining tears, and slip back into the corner of shame.
"GET HIM!" A female voice shouted, as I dashed away from the town. Only a few strides later, I am tackled by a stallion, a fierce rage in his eyes. I am pelted, beaten... Broken... I sit in a mangled heap, sprain in my shoulder, dislocated rib, and bleeding fiercely from all parts of my body...
I shiver, remembering the scene. Then, the feelings of sadness, pain, and anger wash away. Leaving me sitting in the corner of the room, thinking about life. Will I be able to redeem myself? I will never know...
I sat in a jail cell, after a harsh conviction at the court room a week ago. I have no more pills for anything, and my problems just keep getting worse and worse. My anger is boiling inside like a volcano, only to be enveloped by a torrential rain of depression. My wounds have all since healed, but the wounds of my mind have yet to be healed. My life is no better than it was, and I have desperately tried to escape it in this very cell. Everything that was thought to be a threat to my own self has been taken from me. All that remains is an uncomfortable bed.
A whole month has passed now, and 30 % of my original body weight has deteriorated. I refuse to eat the slop that they give me. It is fowl and I don't enjoy it at all. My meals consist of a biscuit every 3 hours. I also have received some mail from Pinkie. It wasn't enjoyable, even though it was meant to cheer me up. I don't know why Pinkie is so insistent on me becoming happier, I don't want anything but my anger and sorrow. My conscience occupies me now, the voice that was never there before. I considered it a friend, hell I even named it. His name is Tom, and Tom is a persistent asshole.
Twilight came to see me today, it wasn't a very nice conversation. It turns out that my doings had cause her to get her nose done. I recall the incident each day before I go to bed, and wonder why Twilight didn't do anything to stop me. One of the most powerful unicorns in the world, as she didn't kill me. Why must I be put through this waiting game of death?
6 months, I'm practically a skeleton. The guards have been force-feeding me the cardboard tasting goo. I have gotten over my anger, but my sadness remains. I have moved from 7 different cells, mostly from 'good attitude'. My attitude has been all but good. I have also stopped talking to The Princess. She still is angered at me, and now I don't blame her. Pinkie stopped sending her happy-boxes, I would respond that I am getting better, but The Princess doesn't let me send any mail. I'm starting to feel like a shadow in an empty shell.
One year, and I'm still a skeleton. The Princess has been getting quite harsh these past few days. I don't know what's gotten into her. It's like... she's corrupt. I've written down many a notes to my past-friends outside. It's the only thing keeping me from not dying inside. I have written countless stories, and the ones I've finished have disappeared every time I go to sleep. In their absence, is a whole new stack of paper and a quill. I find that my writing is unleashed through how I feel, and most of them are depressing.
Today, I found that my latest book disappeared, but with no paper. I have completely run out of paper, and my ink has been long since dry. Tomorrow, I speak to The Princess.
The conversation was... interesting to say the least. As it turns out, my books were sold to a printing company, but only two of them went through. This cheered me up a small bit, but I was still locked up. The Princess notified me that my parole started in a week. This was great news to me, for having a 13 year sentence. If I were anywhere else, I would've still been rotting away.
