A Helping Hand

by FiddlesticksThePony

Rating: teen
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Tragedy, Dark, Human
Length: 7496

Life is one big cruel joke.

After a near fatal accident, John is left in a comatose state with nearly no hope of recovering. Mutilated in both body and mind, John creates a tiny province in his head in order to deal with the harsh reality of the world around him. Trapped in a world of his own making, John finds no reason to leave his otherwise ideal world. While dealing with the cruelty of life may be hard for a few, sometimes you just need a helping hand.

Published 2012-08-26 20:14:03 UTC
Last updated 2012-09-09 23:05:32 UTC

Insight To Insanity

“I’m sorry Ms. Doe, but we’re going to have to pull the plug on John’s life support.”

“But doctor why?” wailed the woman, her eyes red and puffy from continuous bouts of sobbing. “He’s still alive, please just give him a little more time.”

“Excuse me for being frank, but your son is dead,” said the man with a surprisingly nonchalant expression. “ John has been in a coma for three months. Since then, he has shown no signs of recovery whatsoever. Plus, I’m sorry to say your insurance has been used up; without the finances to pay for his care, he’s nothing but a burden for this establishment.”

“Okay,” said the woman through a face full of tears, her body convulsing wildly. “He’s lived a good life. Do what needs to be done,” With trembling arms, the woman slowly pulled out a small yellow pegasus pony toy and stared fondly at it as she made one final comment. “I just hope I made the right decision. . .”

Three Months Earlier.

“Mom, have you seen my Fluttershy toy around anywhere? I was going to give her as a gift to someone really important,” shouted John as he rummaged through his room.

“Is that another one of your pony toys, John?” replied his mother from down the hall.

“Yeah, so what about it?”

“By god, John you're fourteen. Fourteen! Stop playing with your pony toys and grow up already!” she bellowed as she came barreling into the room.

“Stop telling me what to do with my free time!” John retorted, his face flushed red with anger.

“Don’t take that tone with me young man! Just imagine if your father could see the way you’re acting right now.”

“Don’t bring a dead man into this!” John barked, instantly regretting his poor choice of words.

A deathly silence permeated the room. Seeking to avoid his mother’s gaze and the awkward conversation that would follow, John raced out of the house into the early morning fog. With no particular destination in mind, John aimlessly wandered the streets of his small suburban neighborhood with nothing but his troubled thoughts to keep him company.

Why must she always get on my case? I’m in my first year of high school for Pete's sake! A small smile crept on his face as he continued his brisk pace and contemplated a life without his nagging mother. Freedom to eat, do and like whatever he wanted with nobody to stop him. Trapped in his teenage fantasy, John made one final fatal mistake; not looking both ways when crossing the road.

In a frenzy of broken flesh and metal, John’s bloodied body was smashed into the ground; finally finding rest on the cold, hard asphalt. Reality struck fast and struck hard, like a two ton vehicle barreling at forty miles an hour. John’s life flashed before his eyes, all the wasted opportunities, all the dreams unfairly crushed by an 'oh so cruel' world. In all the irony, John passed out in a pool of his own blood crying out but one word: mother.

“Where’s my son?!” demanded a women frantic with worry as she dashed into the large lobby of a hospital.

“Ms. Doe I presume,” said a man dressed in light green scrubs. “Are you the caretaker of the child John Doe?”

“Yes, now take me to my son!”

“I should warn you beforehand,” said the surgeon as he lead her down several hallways to a room located in the ICU. “Your son may be missing a limb or two.”

The surgeon opened the door revealing a room filled with medical equipment and a single occupied bed. “That doesn’t matter,” she emphasized as she rushed to John’s bedside. “My son is okay, that’s all that matters.”

The surgeon rushed to the grieving mother’s side in hopes of comforting her for the upcoming bad news. “I’m sorry, but we’re not out of the woods yet. Coupled with the severe traumatic injuries on his arms, your son suffered near fatal brain trauma. I’m terribly sorry to say this, but your son is in a coma.”

“Luna, I came as quickly as I could, so tell me about this strange creature you found,” said a large white alicorn as she made her entrance.

“Celestia, I’m glad you could make it,” Luna replied, still closely examining the strange creature before her. “This thing, this creature suddenly appeared in the middle of Canterlot Square, unconscious, with no explanation.”

“Could it possibly be a Changling spy?”

“Unlikely, I have cast several disguise nullifying spells on it with no results,” responded Luna as she reviewed her notes, “What we do know about this thing is that it's bipedal and not of this world.”

“What of its intelligence?”

“Well, we’re about to find out. It seems to be coming to,” Luna replied.

John awoke in a dimly lit room, strapped down to a table with a great pain in his head and both his arms. Two ominous figures towered over his fragile body, their identities cloaked by the various shadows that dotted the room. Upon closer inspection, John noticed the two shadowy figures bared a striking resemblance to his beloved cartoon. Downplaying the resemblance as just another illusion of the eye, John fearfully awaited for his two captors to decide his fate.

“Speak creature, your very life depends upon it,” Luna demanded, flaring her horn to add weight to her bluff.

“Sister, how are we supposed to know if it can even understand our native tongue?”

Their tall statures, the magical horn and the regal tones of their voices; there was but one possibility. “Luna, Celestia is that you?” John asked, hoping for a positive response.

Both deities panicked at the mention of their own names. “What shall we do? That thing knows of our identities,” Luna exclaimed as she hid behind her almighty sister.

“Do not fret sibling,” asserted Celestia as she consoled her younger sister. “We will learn of its purpose and origins soon enough.”

“I can hear you both you know,” John said as he tried to wiggle out of his restraints with no avail. “Now if you could get me out of these restraints, I’d love to explain what the hell I am. So if you could lend me a hand . . .” A grim revelation finally came to light, coupled with a strange numbness.

The strange sensation washed over John’s fragile form. Something was wrong, very wrong. “Luna, Celestia could you do me a favor?” John implored, the fear evident in his voice. “Could you take off the restraints on my arms? They’re so numb I can’t feel them. By arm, I mean those two appendages attached to my upper torso by the way.”

“Of course I know what an arm is, but that's beside the point,” Luna replied, flustered at the previous comment. “I had no need to restrain what isn’t there.”

What isn’t there? The thought slowly dawned upon John’s mind. That couldn’t possibly be true; how else could I be feeling such great pain? Slowly, John anxiously tilted his head to either side in hopes of disproving the claim. John was greeted by empty space; a small stub at the shoulder was all that remained to remind him of its former occupant. Like an erupting volcano, John burst into a fit of anger; spewing obscenities faster than the average man could think.

“You monsters, you did this to me!” John bellowed out as he struggled to break free of his restraints. “Let me go, you fuckers! I can take on both you ponies with my arms tied behind my back!”

Hearing enough of the poison being spewed from John’s mouth, Celestia finally decided to take action. Slowly, Celestia raised a single hoof and placed it upon John’s forehead. With a single light tap of Celestia’s hoof, John’s previously flailing body grew silent and limp.

“What shall we do with it now?” Luna asked as she examined the now limp creature in front of her.

“Throw it in the dungeon until it finds reason. I have to send a letter to my certain faithful student.”

Once again, John awoke in a small dimly lit cell; a little worse for wear, but unrestrained. Cursing his luck for ditching him in yet another unknown location, John rolled to the corner of his cell and propped himself up to a sitting position. Observing the surroundings of his tiny cell; the place would be exceptionally bleak and desolate were it not for the remnants of a straw mattress strewn across the floor and the sturdy iron bars blocking his freedom. With the possibility of escaping practically zero in his armless state, John hunkered down and began to think of the strange events that happened earlier.

Talking ponies, magic, being held captive by said magical talking ponies; the chances of all this happening on Earth are highly unlikely to say the least. There were but two logical explanations, either he was extremely high or somehow in Equestria; the latter being the least likely of the two. Even with the possibility of ending up in a world full of flash animated talking ponies being about as likely as “My Little Dashie” irrefutable evidence lied before him. While being in the magical world of Equestria raised more questions than it answered, it did however, answer the million dollar question of “Where the hell am I?”

Why am I here? How did I get here? What happened to my arms? Many questions were still unanswered; left alone to plague his thoughts. Glancing at the stubby remains of his arms, John looked deep into the inner sanctum of his mind in hopes of piecing together the puzzle now set before him.

Mother, the word echoed throughout his head like the sweet melody of a bell. With increased vigor, John dived deeper into his alcove of memories in hopes of finding the source of the sudden disturbance. After several minutes of hard concentration, a lone perceivable memory came to mind. Sprawled on the pavement lay a single bloodied and battered mysterious figure, its face obscured by a combination of both time and stress. For minutes on end, John thought long and hard; the missing details slowly falling into place.

After about an hour of hard concentration, the face of said mysterious figure was now clearly distinguishable and oddly familiar. Staring back at him, clearer than day, was his battered and bloodied visage. Lying down in a pool of his own blood with his arms severely crushed, he frantically gasped for what might just be his final breath. With what little strength still residing within him, he said but one word: mother.

The vivid memory snapped John out of his dream like trance; leaving him in a cold sweat. Was everything he just saw real or just another figment of his imagination? The walls of reality quickly crumbled around him; leaving nothing behind but a quivering, shaking, mentally unstable shell of his former self. Mustering all of his strength into his right leg, John blindly kicked his left leg; leaving a dark purple mark on his heel.

Pain, pure unadulterated soothing pain. Under normal circumstances, such a blow would bring tears to his eyes, but instead John cackled with pure delight. Whether the world he now resided in was truly reality or nothing but just a figment of his own imagination, none of that mattered now. For that very feeling, that very feeling that now pulsated through every single vein in his body was real, and be it the world or all his inner demons, no one could take that from him. With that thought in mind, John patiently awaited his fate, for what they may do to him could not possibly be worse than what he had already done to himself.

The grand doors of the majestic throne room slammed open as a lavender unicorn came rushing in.

“I came as fast as I could,” she shouted, gasping for air due to exhaustion. “So what seems to be the emergency this time? Are the Changlings invading? Has Discord escaped from his stone prison again?”

Surprised by the sudden outburst, Celestia took a moment to collect her thoughts before responding. “Fortunately no, my faithful student,” she said, much to the relief of Twilight Sparkle. “Why I summoned you here today does not involve Equestria’s national safety, but the task is of the utmost importance none the less.”

“What super important task do you have planned for me today?” Twilight asked, her voice dripping with anticipation.

“Do not fret my student. You will find out soon enough; simply follow Quicksilver here and you’ll arrive at your task in no time.”

Hearing the mention of his name, a white pegasus clad in royal guard armor stepped up to lend assistance. Trusting the word of her long time friend and mentor, Twilight followed the guard down a set of winding staircases and long hallways. Offset by a combination of both boredom and curiosity, Twilight began to ask the guard some much needed questions.

“So Quicksilver I believe, do you have any idea what I’m getting myself into?”

“Actually I do, Princess Celestia tasked me with debriefing you when we got there, but better now than later,” he said, making sure to keep his gaze locked in front of him to avoid the risk of getting lost within the labyrinth contained within the castle walls.

“The princess entrusted you with the task of caring and potentially studying the mysterious creature we recently found right in the middle of Canterlot Square.”

“Anything else I need to know about said creature?” Twilight inquired, her anticipation rising by the minute.

“Yeah, we have a strange one over here. It’s been about three days since that thing has been locked in captivity. Over those three days, it’s eaten and drank nothing and seems to have no need for nourishment. Oddly enough, that thing also seems to have no need to dispose of its body waste. There are no accounts or traces of it ever doing such. I would also watch my back if I were you, that thing seems to be intelligent and is capable of speech.”

“Fascinating, I can’t wait to see it,” she said, her anticipation rising from the long journey. “So Quicksilver, how much longer until we get there?”

“Yeah. . . about that,” he said, his voice filled with disappointment. “We aren’t even a quarter of the way there. So yeah . . . how’s the weather?

Is it possible to die from boredom? John pondered the question to the best of his abilities. For the last, what he believed to be, several days, John has been plagued by an endless dullness. Hoping to alleviate the problem and keep his sanity, John stood up and briskly paced around his bleak stone cell. Anything, just anything to keep his mind off of that blasted memory. After aimlessly jogging around for a good two hours, John was both mentally and physically exhausted. Lacking the energy to think coherently, John plopped himself up against the cold stone wall and fell into a deep and lasting sleep.

In a moments notice, John found himself in a sterile white room furnished with nothing but a single wooden bench. Having nothing better to do at the moment, John sat down on the empty bench and began to make himself comfortable. In the blink of an eye, a mysterious figure holding a comically large newspaper appeared seated beside him.

“Why hello there, John,” the mysterious figure greeted, the large piece of parchment concealing every single part of its body except for its eagle talon and lion paw like hands.

“Who are you and how do you know my name?” John demanded, his voice and body visibly shaken by its sudden appearance.

“That is none of your concern,” it replied, a hint of boredom could be sensed in its voice. “Let us stop with the pointless questions and engage in what they call 'chit chat'.”

Shocked by its odd request, John began to take an interest in what the thing was reading. “So what are you reading over there?” John asked, seeking to start a conversation instead of getting an answer.

“Yet another pointless question, but I will give you the pleasure of answering it,” the creature replied, flipping a page in the newspaper as it did so. “It’s just some boring article about some kid being mutilated and left in a coma by some hit and run incident, but the funniest part is he left his widowed mother alone to grieve. Hysterical don’t you think?”

“Would you like to take a gander?” asked the creature before he shoved the newspaper into John’s face; temporarily blinding him. Fearing for his life, John quickly got out of his seat and shook his head in disapproval. Simply being in the same room with that creature is highly unnerving; diverting his attention from it even for a moment is probably not the smartest of ideas, and the fact that John was completely terrified by what could possibly be hidden behind such a thin piece of parchment.

“Calm down John, I’m probably not going to eat you,” joked the creature, easily sensing John’s state of unease. “What I’m here for is far more important than scaring the crap out of a little kid. Look, just take a moment and think about how exactly did you get here.”

“I’m pretty sure I got here by falling asleep due to exhaustion,” John replied, confused by such a bizarre question.

“No you imbecile!” barked the creature, who was obviously losing its patience. “I don’t mean this place; I mean this fruity world filled with magic, cupcakes, and colorful talking ponies.”

“You’d honestly think I’d remember such a life changing event, but I honestly have no idea,” John replied with a light hearted smile. “Hell, I don’t even know what happened to my damn arms.”

“Don’t lie to yourself,” declared the creature, anger clearly present in its voice. “You sure as hell know what happened to your arms and how you got here. How much longer are you going to deny the truth you coward? That blasted memory of yours isn’t just another figment of your imagination.”

John slowly backed away from the ranting creature, only to be stopped by the feeling of two very solid walls against his back. Any semblance of restraint and order the creature previously had was now completely wiped away. “Did you truly, truly believe such an unorthodox world could actually exist?” bellowed the creature as it ripped the newspaper clean in half, revealing its grotesque form. What now stood before John could only be described as something pulled straight out of a nightmare. Its very being composed of an assortment of goat, lizard, pony, and other animal parts; the end result being that of a patchwork monster; that of Discord.

As terrifying and grotesque he may be, every single word he spoke dripped with truth. Cowering in the relative safety of the corner, John made one final attempt to defend himself. “Why, why does any of this matter to you at all?” John murmured.

“Why!? Why!?” Discord shouted as he slowly advanced toward John; his every step changing the color of the walls around them. “You cannot even hope to fathom the importance your existence means to me, so man up and face reality head on.”

With a single snap of his fingers the walls encompassing the two crumbled into a fine dust; leaving nothing but a single floating platform, which they just so happened to be standing on. Far below them lied the vast ocean, spanning further than the eye can see. Its gentle tides glistening in the radiant light of the moon.

“Arivaderchi John, I’ll be seeing you again very soon,” said Discord as he lightly tapped his foot on the platform. As if on cue, the floor below John’s feet crumbled into fine dust; sending him plunging head first into the darkness below. Seconds felt like hours as the water's surface drew closer and closer. John closed his eyes in anticipation of the inevitable impact, his eyes snapping open as he felt his body breakthrough the stone like surface of the vast ocean.

The bleak stone walls of his cell welcomed him back to reality. The monster, the room, the vast ocean of darkness, and his untimely fate; nothing more but just a simple dream. Yet its message rang loud and true. Simply the thought that everything he now perceived was a dream made sense of all the chaos that has recently happened, but other than that it left nothing but more questions. John began to truly ponder what had happened to him, only to lose his train of thought because of the quickly approaching voices of both a stallion and mare.

“Sorry for the long wait Ms.Sparkle, but at least we’re finally here,” proclaimed the stallion.

“Thanks for escorting me Quicksilver, but I’ll be taking it alone from here on out,” Twilight replied, an air of authority in her voice.

With the short exchange between the two finished, both a white pegasus stallion, clad in royal guard armor, and a lavender unicorn mare appeared before the sturdy iron bars of his cell. Pulling a key from an unknown crevice on his body, the white pegasus cautiously opened the door to John’s cell and stepped aside for the mare accompanying him. In walked the mare, ready to give her introduction.

“Hello,” she began. “My name is-”

“Spare yourself the introduction,” John interrupted. “I already know who you are, Twilight Sparkle. So before you go whisking me off to wherever the hell you please, do me a favor and answer this one question. What am I to you?”

Though Twilight was initially stunned by the sudden request and being referred to by name, she reluctantly answered. “You are somepony relevant to my interests.”

Content with the otherwise short answer, John slowly got up and walked out of his cell; albeit with great difficulty.

“So do you have a name or something I can refer to you as?” Twilight inquired.

“Simply 'John' will suffice.”

“I’m sorry for rushing you two, but I already missed lunch and I’m not looking forward to missing my dinner either,” said Quicksilver, his stomach grumbling loudly. “So follow me and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

“No!” barked Twilight, momentarily losing her cool. “I mean no thank you. I’ll simply teleport John and I out of here in a second, but thanks for the offer anyway,” In a flash of bright light, both John and Twilight disappeared before Quicksilver’s very eyes; leaving him utterly alone.

“You jerks could have teleported me to you know?” he bellowed to nopony in particular. With no further reason to stay, Quicksilver began the long trek back to his barracks; muttering under his breath along the whole way back.

After yet another bright flash of light, John and Twilight magically materialized in an unknown area of the castle.

“So Twilight, you have any idea where the hell we are this time?” said John, with both a mixture of anger and confusion in his voice.

Still dazed by both the sudden change in location and exertion caused by the teleportation spell, Twilight took a few moments to collect her thoughts before answering. “If my calculations are correct. . . I have absolutely no idea. What I do know is that we’re above ground, so help me find an exit or something.”

With the prospect of teleporting again ruled out by both parties, Twilight and John set off on an epic quest in search of an exit. After several minutes of vigorous searching and multiple dead ends, the pair found a flight of stairs that seemingly lead outside to freedom. With hardly any effort at all, Twilight quickly cantered down to the base of the stairs and waited for John’s arrival.

John on the other hand was not so lucky. Taking care not to lose his balance, John leaned up against the wall and descended the steps at a snail's pace.

“John, could you quicken the pace?” Twilight insisted.

“I would if I could, but as you can see I’m missing both arms,” John added, waving both his stubs for further emphasis. “I’m about as structurally stable as a candle, so I have to take extra care going down stairs if I don’t want to smash my face to bits.”

In a textbook example of irony, John lost his footing and began to tumble forward. Shutting his eyes in fear of the upcoming face plant, John was surprised at the lack of any impact whatsoever. John slowly opened a single eye only to find himself surrounded by a purple aura and suspended about an inch off the ground.

“You can thank me for that later,” said Twilight as she lowered him gently back on his feet. “It’s just a hunch, but I do believe this path leads to the Canterlot Sculpture Garden.”

With no other option in sight, John blindly followed Twilight. After several minutes of walking, the pair found themselves standing outside, on a vast span of green dotted with statues, in the bright light of the moon.

“If it's any consolation for what happened earlier, I do know the way out from here” Twilight alleged. “If we follow the main road, we should be by the drawbridge in no time.”

With increased vigor, the pair trudged through the garden. A plethora of elaborately designed statues lined the road; none of which matched the skill and detail of the masterpiece, which was obviously the centerpiece of the garden, placed right in the middle of the road.

The strange statue beckoned John with its odd yet familiar presence; drawing him nearer and nearer till he stood right before the mighty sculpture. Its elaborate figure held a single simple message. Discord. John spoke the name absent mindedly; garnering the attention of the otherwise oblivious Twilight Sparkle.

“John, where did you hear such a name?” Twilight demanded.

“Calm down Twilight,” John responded, lightly tapping the base of the sculpture with his foot. “I’m just making sure he’s sealed for good. And in answer to your question earlier, I’m very well informed of the various adventures of you and your friends.” Satisfied by the integrity of the otherwise solid stone prison, John hurried back to a very curious Twilight Sparkle. With a small gesture of his head, John motioned for Twilight to lead the way, only to be met by a stern expression.

“I’m not moving a single inch from this spot until you answer some of my questions,” Twilight declared, firmly standing her ground.

“Sure, go ahead and shoot,” John replied, making himself comfortable on a nearby bench. “Not like I have any choice on the matter.”

“What are you and where do you come from?”

“I am the lord of the spaghetti monsters on the planet asdfg-8. Where the formal attire consists of Hawaiian shirts and khaki shorts, and the word potato can be used as a verb, noun, adjective and pronoun,” John announced, trying his hardest to retain a straight face.”

“One more joke like that and you’ll be spending your days with Discord over here,” Twilight threatened, unfazed by his poor attempt at a joke.

“Geez, no need to be so serious. I’m just a run of the mill human, without arms of course, from a place with a distinct lack of magic and talking ponies. Now for the next question.”

“Human? Never heard of such a species; I guess I have a great deal of researching to do,” Twilight proclaimed, making a mental note for future reference. “But let's get back on topic. So tell me, how exactly do you know of Equestria, Discord, and my friends?”

The color quickly drained from his face at merely the utterance of the word how. There was no easy way of answering such a question. Simply telling her he watched a children’s cartoon show documenting the adventures of both her and her friends not only seemed stupid, but would also deem him insane. With no other option on mind, John had no choice but to use the already tried and tested universal explanation.

“Magic.”

“Magic? Didn’t you just say where you come from there is no magic?” Twilight commented, visibly confused at the answer.

“That’s my answer and I’m sticking to it.”

“You could have simply said no if you didn’t want to answer the question. Finding out what you are on day one is a good start in my book,” Twilight proclaimed, gesturing with one of her hooves to resume their journey.

Such an important question, swept under the rug in just a matter of seconds. This kindness and trust toward a stranger, though the feeling was pleasant he couldn’t help but feel he was taking advantage of it.

“Why?” John exclaimed, reluctant to follow the mare. “Why did they let me go? I could have been a psychopath for all you know!”

“But you're not,” Twilight countered, a general look of concern on her face. “If you truly want to know why, you have to ask Princess Celestia yourself. While you may not know it, Princess Celestia is an intelligent and benevolent ruler; she would never condemn anypony without at least a second chance.”

With a suppressed smile, John slowly got up and made his way beside Twilight. While the rest of the journey was otherwise silent and uneventful, a tiny voice in the back of his head, like that of whisper slowly gained strength and volume.

As previously predicted, the pair easily made their way to the castle entrance with minimal time and effort. The only thing now separating John from the outside world was a simple moat, of unknown depth, encompassing the whole castle. Were it not for the relatively long drawbridge spanning the entire length of the moat, crossing such a daunting obstacle would be nearly impossible in his current state. With nimble steps, John gingerly followed Twilight onto the structurally questionable wooden bridge. The dark, murky water surrounding him glistened in the radiant light of the moon; beckoning him closer and closer until he found himself dangerously close to the edge.

What are you waiting for? Jump. John looked over his shoulder, only to see a panic stricken mare standing in the distance. Marvelous, truly marvelous. Have you truly grown attached to this world inside your head?

“John, are you crazy?!” Twilight shouted, still standing at a respectively safe distance. “Step away from there, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Crazy?! Am I truly the one crazy?” John countered, finally unleashing the pent up emotions stored deep within him. “I’m a freak! An armless, revolting freak! I mean look at me, I’m not a pony, just a fraction of a human being! Hell, did you truly believe I could live a normal life like this? Shunned not only by pony kind, but also my own goddamn species.”

At this point, John had but a single foot placed on the wooden platform; the other foot loosely dangled over the edge, truly showing the disregard he now had for his own life. Any sense of logic and reasoning was now wiped away; leaving nothing but a shell of his former self. His expression was now warped into a wide toothed smile, yet his eyes told the contrary. His eyes no longer windows to the soul, but instead that of a madman; forever frozen in an apathetic gaze.
“Don’t even get me started on the welcoming party,” John spat out, pure disgust dripping from his voice. “I wake up strapped down to an operating table by those so called kind rulers of yours. Hell, they’re probably the ones who ripped off my arms in the first place!” John frantically waved his stubs in the air for further emphasis. “Next thing I remember I’m rotting away in a dungeon! How’s that for being kind?”

John’s fiery tone eventually died down and was instead replaced with pure melancholy. “This whole time somebody else decided what I would do. You, Princess Luna and Celestia, and that stupid voice in my head are all just controlling me. Even to the very end I have no control of what I’m doing,” John looked toward Twilight in hopes of words of pity and acceptance. What he instead found was a speechless mare, frozen in place as if time itself had stopped moving forward. Disappointed at the lack of a response, John looked toward the night sky for one last time before he could be seeing nothing at all. It was beautiful, Luna’s night dazzled him with its glorious stars; masterfully drawn on its canvas, which was none other than the night sky. Tis a shame that this would be his final time witnessing such beauty.

“I miss my friends, my family and my world. I just want to wake up in bed the next day as if nothing ever happened. I just want this nightmare to end,” John confessed, ready to end it all. Content with his fate, John leaned forward allowing gravity to take its course; however, John snapped his body back at the last moment, saving himself from the dark, murky water's below. No matter how much he willed himself, no matter how much he told himself it would be painless; he just couldn’t bring himself to take his own life.

Need a hand? A sudden gust of wind, as if someone was forcibly pushing him from behind finally drove him over the platform edge. Seconds felt like hours as John quickly plummeted to the water’s surface one story below. He felt no sorrow, no anger only regret. What if I had stayed in this world? What if this isn’t a dream? What if? John closed his eyes in anticipation of the upcoming impact, his eyes snapping open at the impact and shock of the icy cold water. Gasping for air, John got nothing but a lung full of water. The cold water quickly sapped away at his strength; too exhausted to keep himself afloat, John’s body quickly sank to the murky depths below, leaving nothing behind except for a large ripple in the water, which glistened in the radiant light of the moon.

Home

Tired. Oh so very tired. What little strength John still had was completely sapped away by the chilly water. Too exhausted to keep himself afloat, John quickly began to descend to the murky depths below. But that didn’t matter; all that mattered now was his crippling fatigue. Even with his imminent fate just around the corner, John yearned for graceful, beautiful slumber. To weary for rational thought, John closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep at the very bottom of the moat. Don’t worry, it’ll be painless. This will all be over soon enough. While the voice in his head was comforting, it did nothing to ease him of his remorse. With regret still rooted deep in his mind, John drifted off into a deep and lasting slumber.

White. He hated the color with his very being. Out of the millions of colors the human eye could perceive, not a single one could match the plain, sterile effect of pure white. With a sigh, a man draped in a coat of the color he so very loathed stepped into the pale grasp of death itself; formally known as the ICU. After a brisk walk through a small corridor, the man found himself in front of John Doe’s room. With a series of polite knocks, he entered the sterile white chamber.

Seated beside his patient was a woman lying fast asleep. Despite her relatively young appearance, she showed obvious signs of aging. Her red and puffy visage told tales of endless strife and grief; how she managed to survive it all in one piece he could only hope to understand. However, what really stood out were the dark circles beneath her eyes. Be it stress related, lack of sleep or a combination of both, it truly gave her the appearance of being tired, and knowing the circumstances that befell her son; she deserved all the rest she could muster.

Knowing this, the doctor was reluctant to awake the woman, but nonetheless, he had a job to do. With a few gentle prods, he awoke the slumbering woman. “Excuse me Ms. Doe, but I have to ask you to leave; visiting hours are over,” he said as he helped the fatigued woman out of her seat.

“I’m sorry doctor. I must have lost track of the time,” she replied, her gaze still locked onto her bedridden son. “I just feel so helpless right now; keeping him company is the most I can do.”

“About these visits Ms.Doe,” he said, noting her disheveled appearance. “Have you been visiting John everyday for the past two weeks?”

“Why yes, I have. It’s becoming quite a chore fitting it in my schedule with work and all, but I manage.”

“You don’t have to visit every day you know?” he replied, general concern in his voice. “Your son will be just fine even without you by his side.”

“I beg the differ!” she contended, a pang of pride visible on her face. “It is a mother’s duty to stand by their child!”

“This can’t be good for your health!” he countered. “Why not take turns visiting with your husband?”

The woman’s prideful expression was replaced with a solemn one at the mention of her spouse. “He passed away some year’s ago.” she disclosed, momentarily fazed, but ultimately keeping her composure.

“Oh . . . I’m truly sorry to hear that.”

“No need to apologize, nothing wrong with a bit of curiosity.” she responded, averting her gaze as she did so. “Well this was a good conversation, but I should probably be leaving now.”

Quickly, the woman kissed John on the cheek, whispered several words into his ear and left the room without saying another word. With his task accomplished, the man made his way to the doorway. Turning around, the man took one final glance at his patient. This poor woman has known nothing but grief all her life, and now her idiot son goes off and plays in traffic. John, you’re doing nothing but adding to the pile. With a grimace, the man turned off the lights and closed the door behind him.

White. The color painfully blinded his already groggy eyes. Momentarily fazed by blindness, John had no choice but to lie still until his vision returned. Slowly, but surely, John’s eyes readjusted to the bright lighting of the room. Though the chamber was illuminated, not a single visible light source could be seen; as if the very walls itself oozed of light.

Unable to clearly see the rest of the room in his current position, John rolled to a nearby wall and propped himself up. With a better angle of observation, he noticed the chamber looked oddly familiar. A single bench occupied the barren white space not unlike his previous dream, but as for similarities that’s where it ended. Unlike the old one, this new room was clearly dilapidated. Its surrounding walls bore the scars of age; its very essence flaking off with the slightest touch. Contrary to the ramshackle appearance of the rest of the room, a single elaborately designed door graced the ruined walls; its stoic figure concealing all that hid behind its wooden frame.

“Who knew? I didn’t know you had it in you,” remarked a familiar voice from behind him. Caught off guard by the sudden disturbance, John quickly whirled around to the source of the sound. Sitting on the previously vacant bench was the living embodiment of chaos; the bane of logic and order; the creature known only as Discord. “However, here you are; standing in my humble abode.”

“I did as you asked. Now let me go!” John avowed, doing well to conceal the anger in his voice. “That can be debated, but nonetheless, I am proud of you,” Discord replied as he pulled out a folded newspaper from thin air. “However, let’s not get too hasty. You and I still have a lot to discuss.”

In big bold lettering, a simple three words lined the front page of the document: I MISS YOU. Regardless of his curiosity, he dismissed it without a second thought. “I don’t have time for your silly games.”

“You’re no fun, but fine, have it your way,” scolded Discord as he engulfed the parchment in flames and pointed toward the doorway. “Just open that door and walk through; you’ll be back in your world in no time. Don’t worry about the door knob either; the thing’s just for show. Simply push the blasted thing with your foot and it should open with ease.”

At long last, a way home was finally within his grasp. With nimble steps, he made his way to the grand door. Endless possibilities lay behind the door, including a way home, yet doubt still clouded his judgment. While the beast had no reason to lie, he was still the living embodiment of chaos; not exactly someone you would confide in.

“How exactly am I supposed to know if this thing will take me home? How am I supposed to know if this world isn’t truly real?” John demanded, still standing in front of the doorway.

“Well to be frank, you can’t,” Discord divulged, still lounging nonchalantly on the bench. “You have no choice but to trust my word.” With this information now known and his doubts and regrets resurfacing, John stood hesitantly at the door. With a sigh, John took a step back.

With wide eyes and a dropped jaw, Discord stared at the armless boy in disbelief. “Why’d you stop? The hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“Thanks for the help, but I think I’ll be staying in this world a little longer.”

“You fool!” Discord bellowed as he rised from his seat. “Simply walk through that blasted door and you’ll be back in your world.”

“No.” Though it took all his courage, John had finally said the accursed word to the face of the beast. His new found courage in hand, John took the opportunity to truly convey his thoughts. “You’re a beast, a monster; how did you think I could ever come to trust you? Also, have you seen this world at all? This place is far from paradise, but it’s pretty damn close. If my world was even a tad bit like this one, I might still have my arms and father!”

Like a stubborn child, the boy stood unmoving; oblivious to reason. “Fine, go back to your colorful ponies, but don’t say I didn’t try to stop you,” Discord weakly countered, unable to change John’s mind. With a simple snap of his talons, the wall adjacent to the grand door exploded into pieces; revealing a simple wooden drawbridge draped in the radiant light of the moon. With his decision made, John gingerly made his way to the drawbridge; Discord’s gaze following his every move. With the boundary between room and bridge now crossed, he now began to feel the weight of the choice he just made. Radiant water surrounded him on both sides on a bridge spanning further than the eye could see. Never before did he feel more stranded or alone; hoping to ease his mind, John casted a reassuring glance behind him. What instead greeted him was a dark void. Stuck between transversing through nothingness or a structurally questionable bridge, John easily picked the latter. However, as he turned around, instead of being welcomed by a scenic night time view, two quickly approaching yellow orbs greeted him.

With the sound of splintering wood and thrashing metal quickly approaching, there was but one sensible option; run. The deafening beat of his heart droned through his ears as he retreated further into the dark void; the yellow orbs of death in hot pursuit. Though his adrenaline pumped legs carried him at breakneck speed, the metal beast was rapidly approaching despite his zig zag movements. His fate sealed, John did the last thing he would ever suspect; he cried. Tears streaked down his face as he remembered all the wasted opportunities and dreams unfairly crushed by an ‘oh so cruel’ world. Content with his fate, he stopped and faced his pursuer head on.

Unable to handle the anxiety of the imminent impact, John closed his eyes. Several moments passed, but he still stood unharmed. Slowly, John opened his eyes expecting to be run over at any minute. What instead greeted him was a warm bed and someone seated beside him. Surprised by his sudden awakening, his caregiver could only utter two words.

“Welcome home.”