The life and times of Lafayette Ryder

Day 1

The pressure encompassing my body fades and I fall several feet to the ground. I’m not on Earth; I’m not in Equestria, where the fuck am I?

I gasp for air but I can’t breathe.

‘OH SHIT!!!’ I try to scream out, but I can’t speak, I can’t hear.

I collapse to the ground and cover my throat with my hands as I desperately try and breathe. Two minutes without air and I’ll be out cold, three or four and I’ll be dead. I pray silently and sob hysterically. Everything, everyone is one and now I’m going to asphyxiate on some goddamn rock in space. I look around and notice the strangely patterned rock formations and then the world of Equestria on the horizon.

‘That bitch sent me to the moon!’

I scream wordlessly and notice something else; it’s been almost five minutes since I got here. I’m not dead. I can’t breathe but I’m not dead.

I look at my body and realize that I may well die soon anyway; all of those gashes are still bleeding, all except for the stump of my wrist, odd. I figure that I’ll have an hour of two before I bleed to death.

‘Twilight.’ I whisper.

I sit down and hold myself.

‘Twilight.’

I rock myself to sleep.

Day two

I wake up hours later and think.

‘How the hell am I alive?’

I look down at my body; all my cuts are gone, replaced by glowing hazel/green scars.

‘Weird.’ I think as I drift back to sleep.

Day three

The hazel/green scars are gone, there's no evidence that I had ever been hurt. Except for my left hand that is. Where my hand had been there is now a smooth stub and a bright aura, the same color as the ones that had covered my scars. All my bleeding has stopped, all my bruises have faded, and all my soreness has vanished. Now if only all my pain were gone too.

Day four

I scream. I scream at the ground, at the rocks, at the sky, and at myself. I scream until im horse and my lungs hurt. I scream even though I can’t hear it. I scream until I can scream no more.

I sleep.

Day five… I think

My left hand is back, just as iff it had never gone away. Except its different, its blurry instead of solid, its hazel/ green instead of tanned white, it tingles like pins and needles, it moves things, rocks and debris, without touching them. If I can think it my hand can do it.

Day something

‘Smile, smile, smile,

I kill you,

You kill me,

We host a big satanic blood orgy!’

I laugh and cry, I scream and whisper, and I bash my head against rocks and then nurse my wounds.

Day something plus ten

I can control my hand now. It looks like a regular hand again, just a bit paler. I can fly, I can teleport, I can use telekinesis. Maybe, just maybe, I can teleport home.

Day I don’t fucking know plus twenty eight

Ive done it. IVE FINALLY FUCKING DONE IT!!!

Day sometime past noon

I'm going home tomorrow at moonrise. I swear I am.

Day tomorrow at moonrise

“I’m back!”

End Act 1