Chapters Why do people think only cowards commit suicide? Do they not know the strength to pull a trigger, kick a chair, swallow pills, or drown? Do they not understand the struggle to fight your own body and its will to survive? I can't do heights and I don't want to feel any pain. Any more pain.
I truly regret all that I have done and the shame I brought to my family. I leave all that I have to my mother along with the money to cover my death and cremation.
You are right, sis, this world doesn't need anymore "sick bastards" like me.
Click.
Bang!
"Mmmmm. Pancakes."
A colt pushes the white quilt cover off him and throws his hooves over the bed. His mix-match of hooves touch the warm wooden floor boards and he inhales the intoxicating scent of pancakes. With his mind leading his body, he sluggishly pads across his room to the blue door and opens it. Hunger drives him forward and his nose leads the way. Warmth washes over him along with the intensity of pancakes, eggs, and maple syrup as he enters the kitchen.
"Pancakes…" the colt drolls.
Metal clattering to the ground makes his eyes shoot open. He finds himself in a kitchen with a light, yellow off looking horse staring at him with violet eyes.
"What the—" the colt squeaks. "Why does my voice sound so high pi-i-i-!" Careful examination of himself reveals him to be a horse, as well, albeit a smaller one than the one gawking at him.
"Jonathan?" the horse speaks, sounding like a female.
The pinto colt turns his head behind him and sees they entrance way empty. He returns to look at the yellow horse and steps back when he finds her right in front of him.
"Uh... h-hi?" the colt's voice falters.
The yellow horse suddenly lurches forward to pull him into a warm embrace. "Jonathan! You're finally awake! Sweet Celestia! It's been so long!" the female begins to sob.
"Wh-what?"
The yellow horse lowers herself to his eye level. Her hoof pets his light brown mane tenderly. "You… you were in an accident. I thought I lost you!" she kisses his forehead and holds him closely.
I should be dead! This can't be happening! Unless this is Hell?!
"Oh, Jonathan! My little sugarcube!" the female coos.
Just then his stomach twists in hunger.
"Of course!" the female gets to her hooves and beams down at the colt, "You must be starving!"
Well, food would help me think better and probably get rid of the pain growing between my eyes…
He spies a circular wooden table to the right and makes his way to one of the empty two chairs. With somewhat of a challenge, he finally manages to situate himself at the table when the female—presumably his mother—sets a plate before him high with pancakes.
Without so much as a beat of a heart, the colt bites into the tower of pancakes. His mouth instantly explodes with flavor. A moan escapes him and he swallows the food in his mouth. He take a second, then a third and fourth bite.
"This must be Heaven!" the colt praises with a mouthful of pancake.
The mare laughs. She wipes his cheeks with a napkin and says, "They aren't going anywhere. Slow down."
The colt swallows hard to gulp down the pancakes. "Yes ma'am…"
She gets up from the table with his empty plate and brings back a second stack of pancakes and a plate of scramble eggs on her back. The colt dives face first into the eggs and inhales them before devouring the second stack of pancakes.
The mare laughs again.
After finishing his plates of food, the colt notices the mare staring at him with sad eyes.
Guilt starts to sink in.
"I'm sorry," he colt begins, "I-I'm—"
"There's nothing to apologize about," the mare smiles.
"No. I'm not your son," he states.
The mare blinks at him for a moment then bursts into laughter, "Of course you aren't! Your my brother!"
"What? I don't know anything about this place. I don't know who you are. I don't know how I got here!"
The mare sobers up quickly. "Your parents died in an accident a few years back. The same one that put you in a coma."
"My parents?" the colt cocks his head at her.
"I was adopted by Olympic Mac and Dawn Dew about ten years ago when I was three when my parents Johnny Apple and Goldenrod went missing. Three years later you came along," the mare explains.
"What's your name?"
"Jonagold," she grins. "I guess I'm also technically your cousin since my father was your father's younger brother."
"Okay…" he replies uncertain.
"I'm just happy you're awake," she smiles.
"I'm trying to tell you I'm not Jonathan. I'm not from this world."
The mare goes quiet.
"I was a…" he shakes his head. No. Can't talk about it. I might sound crazy.
The colt clears his throat, "I must be suffering from memory loss…"
"I'd say. If you're claiming to be from another world. The doctors said it would be a miracle if you ever woke up. I'm just glad I'm not alone anymore," Jonagold says.
"Yeah…" he sighs, I know how that feels.
A long moment of silence passes. The colt taps his forehooves on the wooden table idly.
"So… what happens now?"
"I don't know," Jonagold admits with a smile.
"So… I'm Jonathan..."
"Eeyup! Jonathan Apple. We're part of the great Apple Clan. Why, we founded this here town of Ponyville!" Jonagold elates.
"So… we're rich?"
"We want for naught. We're also hard workers. Naturally, being an earth pony an' all."
Jonathan furrows his brow in thought. "Does that mean there are other types of… ponies?"
"Yeah. There are pegasi and unicorns. Princess Celestia is the only known alicorn."
"Neato," Jonathan replies dryly.
"Oh!" Jonagold beams, "You woke up in time to be enrolled in school!"
Jonathan stares at the light yellow mare across from him. He rests his head and the table pretending to sleep.
Jonagold chuckles. "It's not that bad. You'll be able to meet some of your friends!"
"Yay…" is Jonathan's meek reply.
Jonagold leaps from her spot, picks up Jonathan, spins him around, and sets him on the ground in one swift motion. "C'mon. I'll show you around town and we can buy you school supplies."
"Okay," Jonathan replies after regaining his balance. As she begins to walk away the markings on her thigh catch his attention. "Why do you have three green apples on your thigh?"
"That's my cutie mark," she answers matter-of-factly. "You'll get yours when you discover what your talent is. Considering you're an Apple, it'll probably be apple related."
"Fantastic," Jonathan snarks.
After Jonagold returns from getting her saddlebags, they make their way outside and Jonathan can not help to stop and gaze at all the trees. As they walk to the front gate they pass a chicken coop, a goat pen, and a large red barn.
"This is our home: Apple Orchard Homestead. We share this property with our aunt, uncle, and their three daughters. Right now, they're out tending to the trees. I'll introduce you to them when we get back," Jonagold explains.
"Okay," Jonathan shrugs.
"When the Pears left, we took over their land and with a lot of negotiation, got rid of half the pear trees to replace with apple trees. We share part of the land with Sweet Apple Acres, our cousins a little to the east. We also produce corn, carrots, lettuce, cabbage, hay, watermelons, strawberries, and blueberries."
"Sounds like a lot of work."
"Eeyup. Nothing more rewarding than hard work. Good thing we have such a large family to help out," Jonagold laughs.
The light yellow young mare and pinto colt make their way down a dirt road. Jonathan must admit that outside is beautiful and the air is the cleanest air to ever fill his lungs. His thoughts take a grim turn when he comments to himself about not having to worry about disappointing his parents since they are dead over here.
Fifteen minutes later they reach the top of a hill. From the top, Jonathan sees the a bustling town with thatch roof houses and multicolored buildings. In the middle stood the tip of a red building, far off to the east a lone tower dots a hill, to the northwest lays woods of sorts. Far to the north stands a solitary towering mountain.
"Wow," Jonathan awes.
"Yeah," Jonagold smiles, "Always takes my breath away." She nudges the colt and continues walking toward the town.
"Our best bet for school supplies would be Mr. Rich's store. His family and ours helped found this town," Jonagold informs.
Jonathan follows along silently, his attention mostly on the buildings they approach. He notices many of the buildings have signs but not words. He can not shake the feeling of eyes all over him. His ears swivel to the whispering all around. He ignores them and keeps his eyes forward.
"Jonathan!" a young male voice shouts.
He turns to see a red blur before staring up at the blue sky. His lungs scream for oxygen as he feels the air leave his body.
"Jonathan! You're awake!"
"Can't! Breathe!" Jonathan manages to squeak.
The young male laughs. "Sorry about that."
Jonathan finds himself back on all fours and staring into the big dark green eyes of a red pony.
Jonagold laughs. "Well, hi there, Big Mac!"
"Good morning, Jonagold," the large colt returns the greeting. "When did you wake up? Ah, none of that matters!"
Jonathan blinks at the large red colt wearing a yoke. Big Mac's smile wavers.
"He has memory loss," Jonagold informs the red colt. "He doesn't even remember me."
"Oh…" Big Mac mumbles. Jonathan can see the disappointment in his face as his ears fold down.
Jonathan places a white hoof on the red colt's shoulder and offers a small grin, "Maybe you can help me out?"
"Of course, cuz!" Big Mac beams. "That's what family's for!"
"We're shopping for school supplies, Big Mac. You watching over the stall?" Jonagold asks.
"Eeyup!" Big Mac blinks. "Right! It was nice seeing you again!" He calls back as he gallops away.
"He seems nice," Jonathan comments.
"He is," Jonagold affirms, "if a bit wordy at times. C'mon."
Jonathan sighs inwardly. Is this really going to be my life from now on?
"How did this happen? He was perfectly fine a week ago?"
"If it is what we think it is, the infection takes about a week for symptoms to show. In order to be absolutely certain we are going to need a bone sample."
"No… no…"
"Jonathan!"
"Aahhh!" Jonathan sits up screaming in bed.
"What's wrong?"
Jonathan pants heavily as his heart slams against his chest. He stares into the large pair of violet eyes full of concern. He swallows the lump in his throat. It takes him a moment to process his situation. Right… not dead.
"Bad dream," Jonathan manages to squeak out.
Jonagold pulls her brother in close for an embrace. She feels him turn rigid.
He pushes away from her after a few seconds. "Thanks. I'm fine."
"Oh. Okay." Jonagold gets off the bed and walks to the bedroom door, "Don't forget—school starts in an hour."
Jonathan reads the clock on the right side of the bed. 9 o'clock . "Yippee," he drolls.
Jonagold giggles and leaves the room.
Jonathan's past week had presented him with many challenges and changes. Going number two had to be—by far—the most embarrassing lesson to learn. He sticks out his tongue in disgust as he remembers his folly. He also had spent the week learning the homestead and his chores. Learning how to write still takes some practice for him. The whole using his mouth to write did not feel natural for him so he sticks with holding the pencil with his fetlock. He also notices the ability to "grip" the pencil with his hoof strengthening.
A new cousin also moves in, Braeburn. Jonathan does not really pay much attention to the golden colt. The colt is just like any other kid to Jonathan: annoying and a headache. In under an hour he will be stuck in a building full of others like Braeburn? Joy of joys.
Cool water washes over Jonathan's multi-color, patchy body as he showers. Hands. Is it too much to ask for them? Or to have reincarnated as a unicorn? Yes? Okay. As much as Jonathan loathes having to be with children, he is going to school, a place of learning. He likes to learn. Granted, everything will be a breeze for someone with five Master's degrees, but still, Jonathan likes to keep his mind open to learn new things.
He steps out of the shower. As he dries himself awkwardly off, he can not help but think of all the things in this world that seem more ergonomic for humans than ponies. For example, the knobs for the shower or sink or door knobs, for that matter, are made for grasping.
With a snap of his tail (which makes him smile a little) he is dry and steps out off the bathroom and sees Braeburn.
"Good morning!" Braeburn greets warmly with a smile.
"Morning," Jonathan replies aloof and walks past the colt.
Braeburn's smile wavers. He trots up to the pinto colt. "Excited for school?"
"Yes. I can barely contain myself," Jonathan snarks and rolls his eyes.
Braeburn chuckles. "So I can see. Do you remember what school was like here? School back on the frontier of Dodge Junction was boring, to say the least."
"Nope. I reckon it'll be the same," Jonathan musters his best drawl.
"Heh. Well, I 'reckon' we'll find out soon enough!" Braeburn smiles.
Jonathan groans inwardly. This happy-go-lucky pony starts grating on the nerves quickly.
The two colts enter the kitchen and see Jonagold walking from the stove to the dining table with two plates on her back each with two slices of French toast, scrambled eggs, and hash browns. Jonathan has to admit the food over here tastes much better. Is it because he is a herbivore now? He shrugs his shoulders and hops up to sit at the table.
"Morning, Jonagold. Thanks for breakfast," Jonathan greets his sister.
The young mare smiles at her brother and at Braeburn she greets, "Good morning, Braeburn."
"Good morning, Jonagold!" He looks down at the plate of food Jonagold places in front of him and inhales the scent of the food deeply. "My oh my! This smells absolutely scrumptious!"
Jonathan rolls his eyes and continues eating his food. "How are you this morning?" he asks his sister as she sits at the table to eat.
"What are these? I've never seen them before," Braeburn says out loud as he jabs a fork in a slice of toast to fork into his mouth.
"Those are called—"
"Sweet Celestia!" Braeburn's exclamation interrupts Jonagold. "Whatever these are they sure are good!"
"They are called—"
"Mmmmmm! Mm!" Braeburn interjects as he takes another bite of French toast. "Is that eggs mixed in with the bread?"
"Well, yes. That's because they're—"
"Oh boy! Is that cinnamon!"
"Yes. Fr—"
"Golly! And nutmeg—Ow!"
A fork clatters to the wooden floor.
"Shut the Hell up so she can tell you what they are, you obnoxious shit!" Jonathan shouts.
Braeburn rubs his forehead and stares at the angry looking pinto in disbelief. Jonagold also gawks at her brother.
"Jonathan! Watch your tongue!" Jonagold chastise her brother.
Jonathan snorts and hops off the chair. "Thanks for breakfast," he drones and gathers his plate in his mouth to take to the sink.
The only sound in the house is the clattering dishes and of the front door closing a moment later.
Jonathan huffs. He stops at the chickens to watch them peck at the ground. He sighs as he reflects upon his actions. He let his temper get the better of him—again. He snorts again when thoughts of the anger management group pop up.
He decides a walk through the orchard will help him calm down. The wind rustles the vibrant green leaves of the apple trees and they tickle the developing fruit clinging to the branches. He kicks something on the ground; he cranes his neck down to see a few rotten apples on the grass. He picks one up in his white hoof to inspect it.
The apple loses his interest as he releases the fruit to let it drop to the ground. His attention hones in on his hoof as he flexes the appendage like a hand. A pressure builds in his frog as he "clenches" his hoof.
"Magic?" he mumbles to himself.
Jonathan closes his eyes and stays as still as a statue with all four hooves on the ground. He places himself in a meditative trance and begins to feel the same "pressure" from his hoof tingle his entire body. He opens his eyes and exhales.
The world around him returns to the bright scenery. For a split second before opening his eyes, he is almost certain he saw the world as a black void with the trees and grass sending out vibrations that ripple like white waves. Seeing the darkness had made him uneasy. He decides to head to school to get it over with.
The clock tower tolls the half hour as Jonathan crests a hill that overlooks Ponyville.
"Good morning, Jonathan!" Big Mac greets from behind.
Jonathan sighs inwardly. "Morning, Big Mac," he replies without taking his eyes off the town.
The red colt's smiling face enters Jonathan's vision a moment later. "Is something the matter?"
Jonathan looks up at the red colt. "Nothing. Do you think a tiger can change their stripes?"
Big Mac's face twists into a contemplative countenance. "I don't know much about tigers or animals for that matter," he says after a moment of deep thinking.
"I guess it all depends if the tiger is willing to change," Jonathan sighs. He begins to walk down the hill. "Anything new with you?" Jonathan tries to make idle conversation.
"Nnnope. Well, there's a family of vampire fruit bats giving us trouble. With Apple Bucking Day around the corner, I'm afraid there won't be any apples to buck," Big Mac shares.
"'Vampire fruit bats?'"
"Eeyup. They go around sucking the juice out of apples. The apples may look ripe until you buck them and they splat on the ground."
"How do you usually get rid of them?"
"Set up traps and when too many of them get caught the rest fly away."
"Hmm," Jonathan hums. With the apple yield already low something must be done about the bats.
On the way to school, Big Mac talks about different topics that pop into his head, mostly about Sweet Apple Acres and Jonathan absently grunts a response when appropriate. His thoughts disappear when a voice calls out his name.
"Is that Jonathan Apple?" a young female voice calls out from the right.
When Jonathan looks he sees two identical cerise fillies walking up to him.
"I think so," the one on the right says.
"Wow! You woke up!" the one on the left exclaims.
"Not by choice," Jonathan remarks.
The two fillies exchange a look. The one on the left laughs.
"Big Mac, who are they?" Jonathan leans closer to the colt to whisper in his ear.
"I know we didn't talk much but don't you think it's kinda rude to not know your classmates?" the filly on the left says.
"It isn't his fault, Cherry Blossom," Big Mac replies, "Jonathan has memory loss."
"Does that mean I'll be the smart one in class again?" the filly on the right jabs.
"Unlikely," Jonathan retorts with a smug grin.
"Yeah. Since when were you ever the 'smart one,' Cheerilee?" Cherry Blossom cracks, which earns her a glare from her twin.
"Hmph! Anyways!" Cheerilee pushes pass her sister and steps closer to Jonathan. "It's good to see you again, Jonathan and sorry about your parents," Cheerilee says and places a hoof on the pinto's left shoulder patch of brown.
"Thanks," Jonathan replies lamely and pushes the filly's hoof off him.
The three watch as the pinto walks away and heads inside the schoolhouse.
"Probably best not to bring that up," Big Mac whispers to the twins and trots after his cousin.
"I couldn't imagine losing mom and dad," Cheerilee confides to her sister.
Cherry Blossom watches as Jonathan disappears into the schoolhouse. "Yeah. . ."
Jonathan walks down the hallway searching for the room with the daffodil. He stops at a doorway with daffodils decorating the sills where a tan stallion fills the doorway. His steely eyes are bordered with blue-framed glasses and his dark brown mane stops above the glasses. He smiles down at Jonathan.
"Do my eyes fool me? Jonathan Apple?" the stallion questions.
"Stonewall Smith?" Jonathan retorts.
"Why, yes, yes I am," the stallion beams.
"What kind of teacher are you?"
"The best kind!"
"What subject do you teach?" Jonathan clarifies with a flat expression.
"I am your primary skills teacher. I will teach you math, science, history, language arts, and the basics of magic."
"What do you know about vampire fruit bats?"
"Not much, I am afraid," Stonewall Smith admits.
"Then you are of little use to me," Jonathan says as he pushes past the stallion to enter the classroom.
Oh boy. He's one of those students . Stonewall Smith watches as the colt makes his way to the centermost front row seat. He smiles.
"Good morning, Mister Smith," a familiar colt's voice greets.
"Come on in, Big Mac!" Stonewall Smith moves out of the doorway. "Sweet Celestia, son! You are going to be taller than me by next year!"
Big Mac grins from ear to ear, "If you say so, Mister Smith."
"Good morning, Mister Smith!"
"Well, hello there, Miss Cheerilee!" the stallion shakes the cerise filly's hoof, "How is my little teacher-in-training?"
"Absolutely splendid! I already have this year's lesson plans in order!" She reaches into the saddle bag on the right to pull out a brown accordion folder full of papers with her mouth.
"Oh! Well then. . .," Mister Smith accepts the folder, "Thank you, Miss Cheerilee."
"My pleasure, Mister Smith!" the filly beams and skips into the classroom.
A forceful pair of hooves brings his face down to gaze into the stern, pale green eyes of Cherry Blossom, "I will be keeping my eyes on you. Do I need to remind you about the laws?"
Mister Smith chuckles and gently pries the filly off. "I assure you, Miss Blossom, I am not after your sister or any other filly."
"Good. Keep it that way," Cherry Blossom scowls at him and takes a seat next to her sister. She levels her right hoof to her eyes and points it at him.
Ah, foals, so precious , Stonewall Smith thinks affectionately. The school bell rings just as the last colt enters passes by him. What does this school year have in store?
