Author's Note
This is not a happy story. It's me, venting. I had a blast of sad yesterday, and this is what spawned from it. Join me in my misery.
Edit- July 2024: fixed some spelling, wording.
My Own Personal Hell
Life can be crappy sometimes. Your dog dies. You just got fired. Your girlfriend breaks up with you, and to top it all off, she starts dating one of your friends.
It can be a stack of little things, too. You stubbed your toe. You forgot to do the back of the test. You have a nasty cough. Your important work documents fell into the shredder.
When I have a crappy day, I fight back. I make it worse for everyone else. They need to share in my misery, y'know?
Well now I have no one to share it with, here in this stupid fucking dungeon. And it's what I deserve.
It was a shitty month leading up to the grand finale. That girlfriend thing I mentioned? That was in the first week. Everything I listed happened to me in that bloody month. And more. So much more.
I deserved it, after all.
So I went out drinking. I drank. I drank a lot.
I don’t drink, but I did that night.
I passed out, or something. Somewhere in that night I got shitfaced and whammo bammo I wake up the next morning with a killer headache and in the middle of a desolate castle. Which was in a forest. I really didn’t care, although I should have.
I went back to sleep and woke up later, feeling a little bit better. I was still in the ruins from before. The lion scorpion hybrid that was watching me from the bushes gave me a scare when I saw it, and when it saw that I saw it, it pounced, and flew- I mean literally flew, through the air in a perfect arc to land on me.
It stung me. And bit me. Fuck, did it hurt. But it didn’t hurt for long. The pain faded, and along with it went everything else.
But it wasn’t over. No, it couldn’t be. The universe just HAD to fuck me over one more time. Had to fuck me enough that I’d fuck myself up. Again. Because everything I touch turns to shit.
I woke up again, in a hospital bed. Beeping monitors and the works. Leaning over me was this... thing. Looked like a pony if a pony was an anime girl. She was white, with red hair. Cute.
She yelled something, but I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t hear because everything HURT. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t. Or I just couldn’t hear it. More ponies came running. I was flailing my arms, my legs, my head, everything hurt. The ponies tried to hold me down. They succeeded, and there was a white flash, and I was out like a light.
I woke up again, presumably much later, and the pain was gone. I was also strapped to the bed. I looked to my side and could see the white pony thing looking at some sort of medical monitor. She saw me looking, and smiled.
It was cute. It was wholesome. Anyone else would have melted.
I hated it. I hated it with every fiber of my being, because I did not deserve happiness. Because I wanted to wallow in my pit of shit. So, I horked up a loogie and spat it at her. The wad hit the floor. The look on her face, I’ll never forget it. The smile fell, and I felt like shit. Just how I deserved to feel. I can't bear to imagine what she would have looked like if it had landed on her.
She never smiled at me again, and that made me feel even worse, but I deserved it. I deserve every second of crap I get because that's all I dish out.
Here in this cell I got food three times daily. Once a week a pony came in to try to talk to me. Or communicate. I screamed at them until they left. I don’t want help. I don’t deserve help.
I was awake at the hospital for about a week. All of the goddamn pony alien things were sweet as candy to me, and I, in return, was uncooperative. I growled and snarled and yelled. I bit. It was just something about the fact that they accepted me. Or, at least tried to. I wouldn’t let them.
A week into my stay, a dragon thing showed up. It looked like a patchwork quilt of animals, honestly. It was acting all stealthy like- like it shouldn’t be there. Called itself "Discord." Hell, it might’ve been a hallucination. But it did say something to me.
“You could try cooperating, you know," it had whispered at me. I flipped it off, and it replied “Suit yourself," and left through the window. Maybe it was real.
A few days later I tried it. I let the pony things run their tests without fighting them in the morning, and sometime later they unstrapped me. They gave me a plate with food on it- vegetables and stuff as opposed to the straw I had to suck on for the six days prior. I got utensils as well.
The ponies, they smiled at me. They were glad I was working with them. I got pats and nods and other such affirmations and... and I hated it all. I didn’t understand. They were so trusting. Too trusting. I didn’t deserve it.
Why? Why don’t I deserve it? Because my life is my own little personal hell. Why did my girlfriend break up with me? Because all I used her for was someone to complain to. And it was true. I didn’t deserve her. I was fired from my job because I let that document fall into the shredder, ruining everything. And I didn't think to own up to it until it was too late.
I cause a lot of my own misery, and for that, I should suffer.
It was the evening of that day. The day I cooperated. The nurse pony had just walked by my room with a cart of medical tools. A quick glint of light was all I needed to pick out the scalpel.
I wasn’t tied down any more. My door was open. It would be so easy to run out, grab the scalpel, and...
But that would be cowardly. It would end my suffering. And I don’t get to do that. I don’t deserve the end.
That night I left the hospital. It was loud. There was screaming. Some guard pony things came. They had wings.
I don’t know.
They tried to stop me and I hit them. I hit them hard. I was a lot stronger than they were.
Some ponies I threw. I just... picked them up and threw them.
I don’t know.
This big white horse thing with wings and a horn stopped me. She just kinda grabbed me and held me up in the air with magic or some shit. I could see her face, the fire in her eyes. I wanted her to do it. To punish me righteously. Her eyes met mine and I could feel the heat of her gaze. I struggled fruitlessly, hoping it would push her over the edge. Instead, something knocked me out.
When I came to, I was back in this cell. My new home, where I can stay away from everyone and not hurt them.
Every day since then they come and try to get me to cooperate. I get less trust than before. Something tells me they won't be removing my bindings any time soon.
They gave me this journal yesterday. I think the first few pages was their language or something. I couldn’t read it.
I also got a feather pen thing. It’s how I’ve been writing this.
Maybe I should just rip the journal in half. Maybe.
It feels good to get this down. Too good.
Today I’m not going to listen. I need to feel worse. I should feel worse. I deserve it.
When I’ve suffered enough, I’ll be done. I’ll behave.
Not today. Not for a long time.
