Depression is a horrible illness to endure. It manifests itself in many individuals and the effects can, if ignored, be fatal to those who are afflicted with it. Sadly, it is not a virus, which can be cured with plenty of bed rest and fluids, or a bacteria, which can be cured in the same manner as viruses with the addition of antibiotics. Depression requires time, patience and hope. Once all hope disappears, it's not uncommon for people to opt for the final solution.
John was no stranger to misery. He considered himself a connoisseur of it, having experienced this emotion more than any other in his life. Admittedly, he wasn't destitute, he had a roof over his head, food and water. Luxuries that many across the world would kill for the opportunity to have for a mere moment. However, he craved one single concept over all others.
Hope.
His life had dissolved from one that at one point did possess a light at the end of the tunnel he was traversing, but that was suddenly extinguished and he now festered in an exponentially growing pit of self-loathing and despair. There were only two refuges John had that allowed him to escape these emotions, sleeping and self-harm. If he was unable to sleep, he would resort to the self-infliction of wounds to his forearms, leaving cut after cut until the mental agony he endured had subsided. The strength to drag himself out of the pit he was in had been sapped away and everyone around him, such as his friends, family and acquaintances over the internet, had distanced themselves or abandoned him. While he was still living with his mother, she had lost the will to keep fighting for him.
One quiet, cold night in September, John, sat on the single bed he had in his small, sparsely furnished bedroom, looked at the ceiling. The privacy he had had allowed him to ponder and prepare himself for the method he was going to use to end his internal suffering. A hook he had found in the masses of tools, screws and nails that every family inevitably gathered during bouts of DIY and a makeshift noose from one of his bed sheets was suspended from the ceiling. He had mulled over suicide for a long time, so long that he had forgotten the exact length, but it was now that he decided that it was the right time to finally put an end to the miserable excuse for a life he had. Laying back on his bed, John reminisced on his life. The sadness, pain, betrayal and hatred of those who'd tormented him swirled round the confines of his mind. It was the only memories he ever clung to due to coming to the conclusion that nothing that was even remotely good countered the anguish he had suffered.
The sudden realisation that his mind, was once again, permitting him to go to sleep, caused John to crack a small smile. Sleep was a refuge that he never declined the opportunity to utilise and with a contented sigh, he succumbed to the darkness.
Morning soon began to chase away the night and John was quick to become aware of it as the sun began to beat down upon his eyes. Desperate to continue his slumber, he rolled over to spare his eyes from the uncomfortable glare, only to find that his pillow was missing. A solitary eye opened with the task of tracking it down. Blurry, but eventually coming into focus, John was greeted by the unwelcome sight of dirt, dry, hard, uncomfortable dirt. After exhaling a dejected groan, he reached out to test the ground to assure himself of what his eyes were telling him, but stopped short once he saw his hand. His "hand" was no longer a hand, but a limb that ended in a smooth, flat surface and the rest was covered in a pale, lightish gold fur.
Awestruck, John reached out to examine what his eyes were telling him, only to find his other hand was in the same state. Pursing his lips into an o, he clapped the flat surfaces together, which caused an audible "clop" to resonate in his ears. His expression melted into one of disbelief as he repeated the gesture a number of times to reaffirm the situation.
"No." John huffed in disbelief before looking down at the rest of his body, finding it was also covered in fur and his legs were similar to his "hands". He shook his head, unable and unwilling to believe what he was seeing.
"No, this is impossible!" He whimpered as he scrambled to his feet, falling over a number of times as he was no longer a human, but a pony. After uneasily getting back on his feet, he looked around and noticed that he had been laying in what appeared to be a park with a fountain in the centre. Awkwardly, he attempted to walk on his four hooves towards the fountain. He needed one last piece of information to assure himself of what he had apparently become. Upon arriving at the fountains edge, he looked into the water.
Staring back was his reflection, a stallion blessed with a dark greyish gamboge mane and light cobalt blue eyes. John shook his head, his teeth grinding together as tears pricked his eyes. His heart sank and his blood boiled, flashbacks swirled round his brain as he remembered this place, a programme for television that he'd once been a fan of, a brony. He remembered visiting conventions, chatting about the episodes and enduring the snarky comments by people who disapproved of his choice. Those events weren't what made him hate this land of equines, the concept of how perfect it all was made him angry.
Rearing his head, John suddenly plunged his face into the fountain as he attempted to headbutt his reflection. The cold liquid muffled his hearing as his ears became submerged. The soft rumbling of being underwater blocked out not only sound, but also his awareness, providing a backdrop for him to think, even as his breath began to run out and his lungs began crying out for oxygen. John ignored the burning desire to lift his head back out of the water, desperate to be free of having to realise that he was, somehow, in a place he couldn't even attempt to think about under normal circumstances. John smiled, his mind had stumbled onto the idea that this was all a hideous nightmare and he accepted it without hesitation.
Suddenly, he was aware of something poking into his flank. Out of surprise and panic, he walked forward to gain some distance from the poker, but walked into the edge of the fountain and toppled in with a splash. Flailing, he struggled to correct himself so that he was no longer drowning in the fountain. As the idea of him finally dying struck him, something gripped his neck and pulled his head out of the water. Spluttering, John reached out in search of something to stabilise his stance on and was met by the edge of the fountain, which he breathed a heavy sigh of relief for finding.
"Thirsty?" A female voice suddenly chirped, which caused John to focus his gaze in the direction it came from. His blurred vision showed that in front of him was a shifting, grey mass with two blotches of gold parallel to each other in the position occupied by the eyes and a streak of yellow adorning the top of what he assumed was the head. John rubbed his eyes and began blinking rapidly as the female blob giggled at him.
"You know, I don't think you're allowed to drink from the fountain, silly!" The blob remarked. Johns vision had recovered enough to allow him to properly see who was talking. He frowned as he was graced with the presence of what he knew was a pony who was a brony favourite. Derpy Hooves, or Ditzy Doo or Muffins, people never seemed to agree on what her name was and John hadn't waded into the debate. Now, he was looking at the walking controversy that had engulfed a community. Silence fell between the two ponies as the wall eyed pegasus smiled at the frowning stallion, however it was quick to disappear as she began to feel that maybe she had offended this unknown pony.
"Sorry," She apologised as her smile curled into a sincere frown. "I didn't mean to be rude. I was just trying to make a little joke."
John continued to maintain his silence for a few moments longer before reaching out, grasping Ditzy by the shoulders and pulling her into the fountain with him. Ditzy squeaked in surprise as she landed next to him with a splash. She was about to complain, but was cut off as John pushed her head underwater and held it there, causing her to begin flapping her wings and flail her hooves in terror. John watched as he continued to drown the innocent mare, his mind was seething with hatred of her and everything she represented. He was desperate to get revenge for all the anguish that accursed TV show had inflicted on him. However, a sudden wave of guilt rushed over him, his angry frown softened into an expression of sadness as he watched the mares struggling began to weaken. He was killing her, actually committing the murder of a character from a fictional show. His mind became torn, he was crying out for some revenge, but he felt guilty that he was going to take a life, even if it was a fictional one.
As Ditzy was about to expire, John pulled her out of the water. Water gushed from her mouth and nose as she began coughing violently to clear her lungs. John moved behind her and wrapped his forelegs round her chest and gave a feeble attempt at the Heimlich to assist her. Ditzy's spluttering soon subsided and once she had regained her senses, whirled round and pushed John over.
"What the hay was that for!?" She screeched with fury. "All I did was make a joke and you try to drown me!? You massive, stupid idiot!!!"
John once more flailed as he tried to stand back up. After succeeding to do so, he shook his head to flick some of the water drenching his form off before replying.
"I..." I began confidently before promptly trailing off after he saw Ditzy's smouldering glare. Even though she still had misaligned eyes, it was clear she was truly furious with him. John sighed and looked down sadly. "I am a massive, stupid idiot."
Ditzy huffed, unhappy with the response she had received. Knowing that his response wasn't going to convince her that he was deeply regretting his lapse of sanity, John sat down in the water and breathed a heavy sigh.
"Look, Ditzy..." He began before being promptly cut off.
"How do you know my name!?" She enquired aggressively. "Have you been stalking me?!"
"No!" John exclaimed in alarm. "No, no, a thousand times no! I just... I... I've heard of you and it's just..."
John once again fell silent. After a few moments thought, he shook his head sadly.
"Okay, I'm going to be blunt. I'm truly sorry for trying to kill you. I'm sorry for frightening you. I am having a horrible day and I just want to be left alone to die, okay?"
"Yeah! Well maybe you should!" Ditzy blurted out. Johns eyes widened at the sudden suggestion that he should indeed commit suicide. The venom and hatred in her voice reminded him of times when he was told to do the same by other people. His mouth opened slightly as he stared in awe at the pegasus who'd just cut deep into his heart with those words. His gaze fell towards the water, his reflection revealing how miserable he looked as his ears drooped.
"You're right." He stated passively. "I should. I was actually going to not so long ago, but then I ended up in this... Place."
Silence once again fell over the pair, neither able to continue the exchange. Ditzy was surprised at the claim that this random stallion was going to do exactly what she'd just blurted out in the heat of the moment, while John was too upset and at a loss for words. It wasn't long before the silence was soon broken.
"Ditzy... What are you doing in the fountain with this stallion?" Another female voice asked inquisitively. The pair of drenched ponies looked towards the sound and were graced with the presence of another pegasus. She was similar in appearance to Ditzy, but her coat colour was a bright, lemon yellow, while her mane was a cyan colour that was a few shades greener with blue eyes. Ditzy was about to reply, but John butted in first.
"I tried to kill her." He admitted without hesitation. "I tried to kill her and I desperately wish to kill myself."
Raindrops stared at John blankly, his response was not what she expected. Her gaze looked towards Ditzy, silently requesting confirmation, which Ditzy provided with a nod. She then turned back to John with an angry look.
"Well, you should be ashamed of yourself!" She scolded. "Just because you want to die doesn't mean you need to take others with you."
John nodded, her statement was indeed true. He didn't need to hurt anyone, but he had attempted to do exactly that. Running a hoof through his mane, his face scrunched up as he began crying. His loud sobs and wails surprised the two mares as they watched him bawl like a foal.
"I'm such a stupid, stupid, stupid... Stupid-head!" John whined. "I'm nothing! Just a waste! A stupid waste with a stupid face and a stupid... everything."
The two mares looked at each other before looking back at John. They were completely unsure what to do with something so strange and dire. Ditzy was the first to make a move by taking a few steps closer towards John.
"Hey." She soothed. "Um... Ch-Cheer up, Mister. Everypony has a bad day sometimes and... Well... It doesn't have to be THAT bad."
John sniffled and wiped his now snotty nose before replying.
"You don't understand." He hissed. "I just... Everything's so bad and... I'm such a failure... I'm so, so sorry, Ditzy. Raindrops, I'm sorry for hurting your friend. It was so stupid and I just... Feel so ashamed."
Raindrops' expression melted into one of surprise.
"H-How do you know my name!?" She exclaimed in surprise, while Ditzy frowned.
"He knows mine too, Raindrops!" Ditzy added, causing them both to look back at John before asking simultaneously. "How do you know us?"
Johns gaze swapped from one mare to the other. He knew full well that he couldn't just state that he knew them because where he came from, a planet that was probably in another dimension or universe, they were all fictional characters from a children's cartoon.