It's so hard being the only pony ever, being rejected by countless guys, and being denied something called ‘friendship’.

She quietly slid the hood over her head, the bus driver eyeing her curiously. She kept to herself and delved even deeper into her hoodie. She held a ticket with a hoof, as she had barely any knowledge of magic; she knew she had it, but she had never been able to better her skills very much. It was pointless anyhow. Everyone stared at her oddly when she dared to levitate something.

The bus driver had taken the ticket. As she walked slowly among the rows of seats, the tension in the air was obvious. Never had she felt so uncomfortable - at least in her old town some people got used to the sight. Now, however, new eyes roamed over her. Whispers filled the bus. The last empty seat in the back called to her.

Tia rushed over to the seat and instantly sat herself down in it. A soft exhale escaped from in between the lips of the pure white pony; she felt hot in the hoodie she so loved. Finally, she lowered the brown hood, allowing herself some relief and showing off her head to the bus’ passengers. She could feel everyone's eyes burning into her, a huff escaping her at the attention. She didn't say anything about the stares - not anymore.

The only comfort she had, and her only friend, was the iPod she held carefully. The tangled earbuds white as her fur that she had had for so long made their way into her ears, and as usual she played her favorite songs. She felt the tension in her shoulders gently evaporate, her bright eyes watching the rain falling outside the bus. It enticed her and calmed her greatly.

She felt her eyes grow weak, and decided her mind could occupy her just fine by itself as she gave them a rest. The bus finally jerked forward, the old life she had grown up in gone just like that. Memories flooded her, and Celestia's mind spiraled. The old park, where a lonely little pure white filly played ball and read by herself. She had once had the softest, silkiest pink hair. She had a few friends when she was younger; no - acquaintances was a better word.

The little girls were interested in her - a talking pony was something new. Eventually, though, as her later, teenage years hit her, she became an outcast. She always either ignored or receiving funny looks, and, soon enough, that began to mean very little to her. Her own solitude evolved into one of her best friends, and she had soon accepted she might very well never fit in. How could she? She was a talking pony and the world had gifted her with a human’s consciousness and intelligence.

That fact didn't help. It never did. She didn't whine about it as she once did, as she had accepted her fate. Nobody wanted to be her friend, all her crushes turned her down, and people certainly treated her differently. If they didn't seem shocked or repulsed, they seemed slightly curious. At first she had gladly fed their curiosity, but soon enough it became clear to her that they didn't want to know her, they only wanted to know why a pony was among them.

It was odd. She barely had a mom or dad to miss. Each day spent with humans who didn't want her, treating her like she was merely some sort of farm animal. Not someone who could talk like you and think like you - either way, she thought that even animals shouldn't be treated as she had been. Then it got worse.

She was at her window, like any other normal day. The owls came to make their presence known, and the sun had set. She was laying in her sleeping bag, which she had laid on her current foster parent's floor. The memory was so fuzzy. She frowned deeply at the attempt to fully remember. She merely recalled wishing for the sun to come so that all her nightmares would vanish. Clearly, her wish had been granted as her horn glowed brightly. Not just any glow she had seen before - it was the most incredible, blinding light.

Minor pains wormed their way through her horn, and before she knew it the sun was being controlled at her will. It had raised many hours before it was meant to. She had defied the possibilities. There was much public outcry. She remembered her flank going from blank and average to suddenly being decorated with a beautifully artistic interpretation of the sun.

She couldn't remember much from there, though she did recall her foster parents scolding her. She hadn't even known what had happened, doing it purely through instinct. She had become even more of an outcast ever since. The fact that only weeks later she would form her first crush made things infinitely worse. A simpler time.

Freshman year. The classes were boring, and she had never found a human very appealing - she considered herself asexual. Then he came along in all his glory. Brad Huntzinger. It was an unusual feeling; foolish. He was a rather stereotypical highschooler - like you'd see in movies. Slicked back blonde hair, blue eyes, and a firm build. However, she hadn’t formed the crush based on looks. She would soon discover that it was intelligence she found an attractive quality.

It was because they had worked together on a project. It was a simple one, but he was great at helping, and he was so much more intelligent than she could have ever imagined. Not only that, he treated her as if she were - normal. It had her heart pounding and a warmth seeping into the corners of her eyes. She remembered the feeling of blood rushing to her cheeks, and soon enough she put some extra care into her coat and silky pink mane.

It was, again, fuzzy - she had far from the best memory, especially when music was whispering into her ears and rain was pouring down. However, she could remember bits and pieces; she could vividly recall the waves of laughter and taunts thrown at her in front of everyone in the school, the hot tears staining her white coat. It wasn't a pretty sight. It was the first time her heart had genuinely been snapped in half.

She couldn't expect better out of teenage boys anyhow. She wasn't a true girl someone desired. She didn't have the look of a human. Yet she was among them, she spoke and thought like them, she adopted their ways of speech, she felt like one. She grew up with them, she attended their schools, but she looked different. Nobody wants a horse for God's sake! However - maybe she wasn't meant for love. She wouldn't seek out a horse to date, what with all of them having intelligence that wandered far from human.

She wished to be among fellow ponies. Nobody would actually miss her. Celestia wouldn't mind humans if they treated her as an equal, but they didn’t. Really, she wanted a boyfriend - someone to hold at night, someone to love her. She wanted those teenage flings, she wanted someone to read with her, she wanted a best friend she could call and talk to for hours. She wanted what they all had.

Truth be told, she genuinely had accepted that she may never receive those things, even though her wishes and wants made it seem like she was still in denial over it. She wouldn't be picky, even if somebody just wanted to be her friend or lover because she was a pony - no, she wouldn’t go that far. That would make her feel odd. She'd feel used. She just wanted someone to want her for her, love her for her. Those thoughts plagued her, and she hoped that one day that would happen.

She didn't want to dwell on it anymore. She had accepted it.

Her fantasy consisted of basic thrill-seeking with someone; a rollercoaster, underwater diving, and other trivial things. Then? Simply going home to read books. That was it. They didn't need to be her lover. Not even her best friend. A friend would be enough to satisfy her.

The bus continued to drive in the rain, her heart pounding against her chest as she spiralled further into these thoughts. She was interrupted suddenly, saved from drowning, and slowly turned at a child's voice. "Mommy, it's a pony! Can I pet it?" She let being called 'it' slide and tilted her head to the side, curious. The mother was about to deny the request, but the child was already there, running her fingers through the pony's beautiful flowing mane. Celestia let the corners of her lips turn upward into a faint smile. "You're pretty."

"So are you," Celestia whispered, smiling. The child stared in awe at her speaking. Before the child could continue, however, the mother pulled her away, unsurprisingly scared of her. Celestia lowered her eyes, though gradually found herself staring into the window again. The blissful ignorance of a child was amazing, unaware of the fear of the unknown that came with age. She missed that luxury. She'd do anything for it again.

To be unaware she was that different.

Author's Note

uh, just a little bit of testing! i don't really ever write these kinds of stories? but i guess i could give it a try, who knows, maybe people will like it, maybe nobody will. we'll see.