Stories, things writers use to tell a tale. Some may be good some may be bad, but all of them are stories, whether it may be adrenaline pumping action or just a simple story about life. Some stories may tell everything that it is going to be about at the start, while others tell it over time. Some may make you cry while others make you gasp. The story that I’m going to tell is told in the pieces it left behind.

"Crazy" a term used by most to describe ponies that have they deem have done something not normal. It's something I hate being seen as but there's always this little voice that says 'what if there right?'. The question always keeps me thinking. Although I shouldn't dwell on it too much, I can't help it.

"Hey, you gonna move?" a pony's voice behind me asked irritably.

"You could have just gone around me," I say moving to the side.

"Yea, whatever you say crazy pony," the unicorn mare said the last part being said under her breath. It took all my free will to not do something that would be considered crazy. Guess I have to say goodbye to my good mood today, again. I continued walking in the direction that I was going in. The cobblestone sidewalks were bare of any ponies, probably because it was too early. Which for me is a good thing, no ponies constantly chatting about me when I walk by, no name calling, no nothing. Just me and the empty sidewalks.

Sometimes I have to walk into areas that have lots of ponies walking around because I needed to do some shopping, that was sure pleasant. The looks might have been the worst part. It was just the way they looked at me, disgust, anger, fear and worst of all pity. Why someponys looked at me with pity is beyond me.

"Talking to myself is another thing I should probably stop doing," I say as the gray clouds above me rumble quietly. I stopped to look up at the gray cloud. Please don't rain. I pleaded, don't ruin what's left of my peace and quiet. Sure enough, the clouds produce rain a mere couple seconds later. "Of course," I growled as the rain started to come down in sheets. Having no coat or anything to protect myself from the rain I made a beeline for home. My haste didn't help because once, I got there I was completely soaked.

Taking my keys out I unlocked the door to my home.

The door opened with a creak revealing a spacious living room off to the left while a small kitchen lie to the left. In between the two was a staircase to the upper floor. I took a moment to breathe in.

"Still smells like dust," I said looking around at the dust covered furniture and items. "I should really clean this place up. If I'm ever in a good enough mood to," Which won't happen so, I guess It'll never get cleaned up. I remember what this place used to look like, clean, with pictures on almost every spot on the walls, a clock in every main room such as the kitchen, bathroom and living room. Now, it's mostly covered in dust with pictures missing and clocks gone. The furniture is the only thing that remained throughout the main floor.

The memories flooded back, the good and the bad. The moonlight that shined through the windows in my room. My room. The place where I spent most of my time, by myself. No, not all the time I had a friend that would come over sometimes but that was so long ago. I walk up the stairs and at the top there is a hallway. Going down the hall a bit I see my old bedroom door and with slight hesitation, I open it. Everything in the room was how I left it. It was almost like a child still lived here and had neglected to clean up. Entering the room, I felt bad mood slip away. A ghost of a smile touched my lips.

"Guess this room still has that effect on me," I said to myself as I looked around at my possessions. Talking to myself won't help with what ponies think about you. "That's what I need right now, more ponies thinking I'm crazy," I say sarcastically, my bad mood returning. You said that out loud. Of course, I did...it's a habit okay. Is that a justifiable reason for why you talk to yourself? Yes because I won't anymore. Oh yeah? Yeah. Then why are you still talking to yourself? I'm not I'm talking to you. Your talking to me. Yes. You know I'm you, right? Yes. Then you're still talking to yourself.

With an angry huff, I left the room.

Walking down the hallway toward the stairs, I see my parents room out of the corner of my eye stopping I contemplate going in or not. With gritted teeth, I decided not to enter. I continued my short walk toward the stairs. Down the stair's I went on my way to the kitchen. Once I was in the kitchen, I scrapped together a meal with some noodles and the very few spices I possessed. The dining room table was big enough to seat eight ponies. Without friends or anypony to share the table with meant that I was the only one to occupy it day and night.

My meal finished, I headed toward the balcony. The balcony is where I do most of my thinking. The sun starts to rise, signifying the start of a new day for everypony else. For me, it meant another day without anypony to talk to, another day of me being angry and sad at the same time, another day of remembering what I so badly wanted to forget.

Author's Note

I want to start to spend more time and effort on my stories to make sure they come out better than some of my previous works. That's why stories aren't coming out at rapid pace anymore, that and I had writers block for awhile. Anyway, I hope you like it, leave your thoughts in a comment below. On a side note, this chapter has been scrapped and redone a couple time because I didn't feel like it was good. (I still don't think its good)