A surging pain was sent down my spine, which caused me to awake instantly. I sat up, though a bit too fast.

"What the fuck..?" I whispered to myself, feeling my back with my hand. There was nothing there, but it did hurt just a second ago. The pain disappeared as soon as it came, which was odd. I shook my head, thinking nothing of it. "Probably just them mechanites." I told myself. That was best case scenario, wasn't it?

I stood up from my bed and made my way out into the hallway. From what I could tell, it was still night time. Atleast, that's what I thought from the crickets outside still making their annoying sounds. I was tempted to wake the both of them up, but I decided against it. Just because I couldn't sleep, didn't mean they shouldn't.

Making my way into what was now the living room while scratching the back of my neck, I tried to think of things to do. I was still tired, but my sleep schedule was already fucked. Going back to sleep would just make me more needlessly tired. I took a seat on the now living room table, and kept my head up with my hand under my chin.

I guess the next best thing would be building those hydroponics, huh?

We got some basins already made, we just need a little building to put them in. A greenhouse, essentially. The only thing I've been worrying about with that plan is the power consumption. From what I've read from those notes, they take quite a bit of power. And, one isn't able to sustain all of us, we'll have to build multiple. Plus, the sun lamp required for it takes a lot too. I really didn't want to risk short-circuiting the damn place, or running my cords too hot. The whole damn place is made of wood!

"What to do.." I said aloud, my eyes dancing across the small designs in the wood. The little marks and indents in each little piece. Am I the only one that used to stare at walls, with the popcorn like texture, and see faces? As a kid, I used to see all that all the time. Faces, or whole people, or strange symbols. It was probably my mind entertaining itself, but still, interesting nonetheless.

You know what? I'm taking a couple days off.

Yeah, that's right. A couple days off, with doing no work. Working for two years and then some really kicks a man in the ass, and I think I deserve a much needed break. Especially with this sickness. Twilight and Starlight can both take their own breaks too if they'd like, but I'm taking one no matter what. I just want to laze about for awhile.

Speaking of the ponies currently living in my house, they've really grown on me.

I can still remember the days when I was alone, and afraid. But ever since Twilight has come into the picture, it's just been... so much better. She's literally turning into a mini-me, which I cant tell if that's a good thing or not. Probably not, but whatever. She's adorable, she's smart, and hell, she's sassy recently. She's also extremely helpful, but I know that something is eating away at her.

She would never say it, but I know it's true.

The realization that she's stuck here with me, is killing her. She doesn't show it, but I can see little glimpses of it in her eyes. That was the same damn look I had. And, honestly, i'm glad she's here with me, but I don't want her here. In the sense that I wish she didn't have to experience what she is experiencing now. That innocence is still there, but it's questioning itself. She killed that man, and hasn't said a word about it. I know from experience that killing someone for the first time is a huge eye-opener.

It's something you don't walk away from. It's with you forever.

I wish I could protect that innocence, but I know that if she stays here longer it'll be gone eventually. The Rim robs everyone of that. Hell, you could be the greatest human being in all of existence, and you'll still end up becoming a degenerate piece of shit eventually when you're on the rim.

Like me.

Starlight is still new, but I think she's fitting in really well. I think having Twilight being here helped her alot. Twilight was so scared when she first got here, but Starlight was able to transition pretty smoothly. Having someone else of the same species, and a friend at that, is comforting. I'm happy she isn't going crazy.

But I don't think she's fully grasped the concept of this world. Sure, we've told her. But she won't believe it until it happens in front of her, or to her. However, I feel like she'd probably be able to handle it better than Twilight. Or, maybe not. Who the fuck knows, right? It hasn't happened yet, and I ain't no fortune teller.

"Rex?" I heard a sleepy Twilight ask from behind me. She honestly scared the shit out of me. I jumped, and turned around to her.

"Oh.. Hey, Twilight. I didn't think you'd be up this early?"

"Neither did I... but something felt off."

"I know the feeling all too well." I said with a chuckle. She pulled the chair next to me out with her magic, and took a seat right on top of it. I could see that she was pretty tired, but she had a slight smile on her face. "I'm assuming you and Starlight had fun in your own room?"

"Being able to finally talk to one another privately is... well, amazing."

"Oh, and what secrets would you be keeping from me?"

Twilight giggled, shaking her head. "You wouldn't want to know them, trust me."

"Oh, now how would you know if you've never told me?"

"Believe me, Rex."

"Nah."

The room fell silent for a few moments before both of us began to laugh. We were definitely getting that natural high from sleep deprivation. You know the one, where you always laugh at everything, and you know you should be asleep but you keep just making shit up to laugh at? That one.

"So.." I started. "I've been thinking about taking a break from doing stuff. Like, just lazing about for a couple of days."

"Really? You were the one that was always for getting stuff done, even at the expense of sleep or... whatever."

"Yeah." I nodded. "But, recently I've just been so tired of working my ass off that I just want to, I don't know, chill out. It's been a couple years since I've done that. It's been nonstop hard work since then, and I honestly hate it. I mean, who wouldn't, but still, that's not the point."

"Rex, if you feel like you need to take a break, take one. I'm all for your health." Twilight said with a genuine smile, her eyes widening slightly. It was honestly adorable, and the only response I could give was light laughter.

"Thank you, Twilight." I said back with a smile.

"Uhngh.." A groan came from the hallway. I didn't turn to look at her, because I already knew who it was.

"You aren't a morning person, are you?" I asked. All I got in response back was another groan.

Starlight pulled out a seat in front of us, plopping herself right ontop of it and slumping over the table. "It's too early..."

"Then.. go back to bed?" I suggested.

"You two are louder thank you think. Your cackling would've kept me up no matter what, so I might as well be here." Starlight said, shaking her head before thumping her forehead onto the table. "I bet the sun isn't even up yet..."

"Go outside and look." Twilight said, to which Starlight shook her head again.

"Noooo... That requires moving."

"Then stop complaining." Twilight said with a smirk, turning her attention back to me. "Can I ask you a question, Rex?"

Caught off guard by the sudden question, I nodded my head slowly. "Uh, sure, yeah."

"What do you think about?"

...

Huh?

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, I always see you stare off into space for long periods of time. When we eat and we aren't talking, you sit there and sometimes just do nothing. I see it all the time, almost everyday. I can see the gears in your head turn, but I don't know what any of it means."

I gave a chuckle. She really was attentive, wasn't she? Noticing something small such as that. "Honestly, Twilight. I think about everything. Every damn topic you could think of, switching from one to the other, then back to the original. My brain is always firing, and sometimes it bothers me. I think about all sorts of stuff, Twilight."

"Is there anything in particular?"

Another weird question. "Mainly just things I want to do for the day. Like, if there's a project, I run it over and over in my head. Look at all the logical answers to it, and then some. Other then that, it's either about my own life, or about you guys."

That seemed to perk Starlight's ears up.

"What do you mean, about us?" Twilight asked, having the same quizzical look from before.

"Eh, I dunno. Just, stuff. You guys are my friends, right? Atleast, I'd like to hope so. Whether you guys are safe, or what you're thinking or, hell, honestly whatever. You're a pretty big part of my life now. Both of you."

Twilight nodded, staring off into space. Starlight didn't move her head at all, and simply remained still. After a few moments passed, Twilight looked back to me. "One more weird question."

I groaned. "Yes, your highness?"

"What was it like when you were growing up? Like, as a kid and all that. You don't really talk about any of that stuff."

"And there's a reason to that. You drown out the pain by not acknowledging it."

"Oh..."

...

Oh for fucks sake, I hate the silence.

"Fine. I'll tell you, but it's not a happy story, and I ain't explaining every fucking detail either."

"That's fine!" Twilight said, sitting straight up in her seat with a smile on her face.

"Where do I begin.."

Tucson Town-Ship

Living on a ship for most of your life, you begin to pick up on things that those living on solid ground usually don't. First off, alien species were pretty common. Most were humanoid in nature, but still were alien enough to be looked at weird, or even discriminated against in the town.

Oh, yeah. The ship was a town, as well.

It housed a good, i'd say, fifty thousand people? It was pretty big, and had it's own small fleet of fighters incase of any attacks, but that usually never happened. Each section, and each floor of said section, were divided by class. Usually, by wealth status. I happened to be on the bottom.

I wouldn't go as far as to say that the bottom section were absolutely poor, and had nothing, and always struggled for money. No, it was more like we still had living quarters, and stable food, but no luxuries. Well, whatever luxury money we did have, my father always spent. But, I still had good enough clothes to go to school, and didn't have to worry about starving at night.

The ship had little quarters you could buy as property, and set up a little shop or whatever at. It was very community-economy based. The currency we used were called 'Tulips,' after the flower. Each coin had a small insignia of a tulip ingrained onto it, and it was honestly pretty cool looking.

School was pretty fun. I took a lot of construction classes, because I was pretty interested in that. I thought if I was able to one day get onto a planet to live on with, I don't know, a family, I'd be able to build my own house. I remember telling my eleven year old self that I'd be the 'best handyman to ever live.' God, I was ambitious, wasn't I?

I also took one cooking class, but it was pretty basic, and all I learned was 'if meat is brown, its done.'

My family was an interesting situation. It was my father, my mother, and my mothers mother, or my grandma. Grandma was a sweet old lady, and I loved her to death. She was asian, just like my mother, and she cooked amazing food. If it weren't for her food, I bet you I wouldn't have the amazing taste that I have now! (Joking, of course.)

My mother was a brown haired short woman of asian descent. She's the reason my last name is Rice. Unlike traditional marriage, marriage on the ship didn't switch out the mothers last name for the fathers, and the parents decided what last name to put on the child. It was either Rice, or Muldock. I'm glad I'm named after a plant.

My father was a black haired, chubby white man. He really deteriorated over time. I remember in my earliest years of living, he was so kind and full of energy, until something happened. I still don't know to this day, and honestly, I don't think I want to. Whatever it was, caused my father to take up drinking as a coping mechanism. Everyday would be a new drink.

"Hey boy, come here!" He would tell me. I would run up to the couch, and he'd pick me up and set me beside him. He'd press the clear bottle up to my nose, forcing me to sniff it. "You smell that? That's good!"

"It smells like medicine papa." I would tell him.

"Ah, you just haven't gotten an acquired taste yet! Here-" I remember my father forcing my mouth open to drink what I now know to be vodka. And, not a little bit. It was constant, and I remember getting sick on that couch almost everyday afterschool, and feeling sick in the morning. He pushed that onto me nearly everyday.

My mother and father always had fights about it.

"Stop giving him that shit, Michael! You're making him sick!"

"Shut yer' fuckin' mouth!" My dad would slur. "He's myy- my son too."

"Can't you tell you're hurting him?"

"The boy needs to learn how to handle his liquor, thas' all!"

I remember hating my father more and more each day.

Refusing him was never a good idea. I knew that if I refused, he'd start to get rough. Whether that meant grabbing me by my collar, or beating me until I felt like I was going to die, only to pour the rest of the bottle onto me while I laid on the floor. Refusing also led to my mom getting angry and yelling at him, and that caused him to hurt her too.

Refusing him wouldn't only hurt me, but also her.

After my father would keep me drinking with him on the couch, my grandma would pull me into her own little room and feed me little pellets. I don't really know what they were, but they definitely helped with the sickness at night and in the morning. She would rub my cheeks, and give me a wrinkled smile. "Do you know why you're apart of the rice family, Rex?"

I would shake my head.

"Because all it takes is one little rice crop for a kingdom to flourish. You're going to be the start of something new."

I always smiled at that. Even with my father being as violent and terrible as he was, it made me feel like I wasn't as shit as he made me feel. Which, he made me feel like shit nearly everyday. Years on end were just torment, and I absolutely hated it. I would take up sports just to go to afterschool practices to get away from home.

But, if I was away from home, I couldn't protect mom.

I quit sports. Everyday during practice, I felt sick to my stomach thinking about what was happening to her. And, usually, my feelings were right. Sometimes I'd come home to her crying in their closet, with red bloody marks all over her. Sometimes, I'd see her passed out on the couch, completely naked, and drugged out her mind.

He forced all of that.

I remember when I was seventeen, I had enough. After another stressful day at school, and just finishing the job I had at a nearby construction place, I found myself not being able to take his bullshit anymore. And, I had grown quite strong over time.

He on the other hand turned into a fat lazy fuck. Obese, for sure. The drinking didn't help with that.

I opened the door to my house, taking off my backpack as I entered, only to hear those same words. "Hey boy! Come here!"

I reluctantly followed the sound into the living room, only to see my fat father sitting on the couch, with multiple drinks on the small table that sat beside it. In front of him was a T.V, playing my schools football match. "Hey, why the hell you quit? You coulda' done somethin' useful or some shit. Go and sign up for the damn thing again. I could use some fuckin' entertainmen- you FUMBLED THE FUCKING THING!" He yelled at the T.V, groaning loudly only to turn his attention back onto me.

"Look, dad, I'd really like to just sit in my room and finish my homewo-"

"Shut the fuck up and take this." He presented me with a yellow bottle, the logo of a random company on the front of it. "Come on, take it you fuckin' dipshit! My arm is gettin' tired."

I picked up the yellow bottle, feeling something surge through my body as I did so. It was... anger? No. Sadness? No, no that either. It was...

Pure hatred.

I tipped the bottle upside down and poured it onto the floor, which my dad watched me do with wide open eyes. "What in the FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Without giving him another second to say anything, I threw the bottle at his head, hearing the sound of breaking glass upon his head. He gave a moan of pain, and I could start to see blood already leak from his head.

My mother came out of their room, and watched. "Wha-"

I didn't wait. Instead, I went straight for the kitchen and grabbed a knife, easily the size of my forearm. My dad watched me with wide eyes, still dazed from the bottle I threw at his head. Without thinking, I pounced on him, stabbing the knife deep into his throat multiple times.

I'll never forget those gurgling sounds that came from him. I could hear 'stop' faintly between each gurgle, but I didn't listen. I continued, and kept continuing well after I knew he was dead. I went from his throat to his body, then stabbed his eye with the knife, leaving it there.

I was covered in blood, and I just sat there, looking at my dad. He was alive only a minute ago... and all I did was yell. Scream, or whatever the hell it was. It was something inhuman, it felt like. Almost like a demon, laughing loudly in its success. Like the devil had taken over my body to scream in victory, and thank me for doing such a deed.

I looked at my mom, who stared at me, her eyes wide.

She called the authorities on me after she ran outside the house for help. I was arrested that night, while my mother cried over her dead husband, my dead father. I don't know what I was thinking, but I just... did it. I hated him, every fiber of my being hated him, and I just knew I had to get it over with.

I was put in a community cell with some other inmates. I was stone-faced, and when one of them asked me what I did, I simply told them. "I killed my father." That seemed to surprise most, but a few were simply unfazed by it. Most likely having done something the same, or worse.

I remember that an inmate asked me: "If you had the chance to go back, would you do it again?"

I thought about that. I ran all the possibilities in my head. If I didn't, he would've kept drinking, and probably killed me or my mother. He was constantly buying off the shelf drinks from blackmarket dealers, and was constantly laced with stuff. He drugged my mom and had sex with her on the couch in front of me without a care in the world. He was scum, he was a degenerate, and he should've been obliterated.

"Yes."

I was told by the judge a couple days later that they gave my mother permission to decide my fate. I sat there in a court room, with my jumpsuit on, and watched my mother cry in the booth away from me, along with my grandmother, who I had never seen so sad or upset.

She told them to let me be free, but to ship me off on the next available incoming trade vessel that came by.

My mom was disowning me.

I was forced to walk past her as the guards escorted me, to which she stepped in front of me, stopping my walk. Tears kept falling from her face, and she shook her head, her fists clenched. "You will always be my son. Always..."

"But I never want to see you again."

That, was the last thing I heard from my mother. I was allowed to go back into the house to grab my things, and to put my clothes on, and then I was to be shipped off in the next incoming ship. That next incoming trade-vessel happened to be the J.U.L.I.A.S, a very famous trade ship known for being a half town-ship have trade-ship. It originally started off as a trade-ship though.

It was gigantic, much more than the Tucson.

I was forced onto it by guards, and left to my own devices. I was confused, and scared, and... well, angry. My own mother just sent me off on some random trade ship, to possibly die off somewhere. Why? Because she loved her husband, the abusive piece of bullshit that he was, instead of me.

Or, maybe not... I really don't know why she did it. But, all I know is...

I'm pretty sure she thought I was a monster.

I managed to get a painters job on that ship, and I was homeless for a bit. I slept on stairs most of the time, and everyday I would wake up to go to my shitty little job. They gave me a little brush with some white paint and said 'hey, go do this.' And, most of the time I was yelled at for not doing a good job. I don't know how I fucked any of it up, I think they were honestly just being asses.

I was nineteen when I finally got the job as a bartender. I thought it was the perfect job for me.

My father set me up for that. All those nights drinking along with him, testing out every combination of drinks imaginable, was what set me up to be a bartender. I suppose what hurt me the most also benefited me in some way. I fucking hated that.

I got myself my own apartment, and things went off from there.

"And.. thats it. I don't really feel like explaining the other stuff. Maybe sometime else."

The room was dead silent, and it was a good two, or possibly even three hours after I had initially started talking. That was mostly because I kept pausing, thinking back on the events, which took several minutes at a time. Both Twilight and Starlight had old tear-streaks from their eyes, but they were gone for the most part now.

Twilight simply stared at me, her mouth open a little, and her eyes shrinking slightly. "Rex... I..." She sniffled, rubbing her nose with a hoof. "I had no idea." Starlight across from me was slumpt, but staring up at me with sad eyes. I could tell I definitely ruined the day already with telling them my story.

"Most don't, but it's fine. I'm fine, right?" I said with a smile, though i'm sure they knew it was fake. I cleared my throat and shook my head, standing up. "Ah, oh boy.. I need some air, or some.. stuff, I don't know. I'll be back, okay?" I made my way for the door.

"Rex wai-"

I shut the door on Twilight's voice, and looked up into the sky. That little haze of the morning was just appearing. Honestly, my favorite part of the morning. That beautiful shine in the sky, mixed with the darkness of the night before make for a fantastic view. I shook my head, looking down at the floor.

How was mom doing?

I could only imagine. Either she passed away, or is still living with grandma. It's been so long now... I almost don't remember her face. It's a blur to me, and I feel like shit for not being able to remember my own mothers face. Which, is ironic, because I still remember my fathers. When he was an ugly piece of shit, and when there was a knife sticking out of his face.

I could feel myself begin to hyperventilate.

Tears began to run down my face. I wasn't one to cry, nearly at all. I dealt with all that pain before, and was able to get by just fine. I made amazing friends, and had a good job. I lived a decent life up on that ship, and I'm proud that I was able to move past my... well, past.

I could feel my knee's begin to weaken, only for them to buckle and allow me to fall onto them.

My body thrusted itself forward, and I sat on my hands and knee's staring at the dirt below. Tear's continued to pour from my eyes, and my hyperventilation increased. Was I having a panic attack? Or, was I just... remembering all those painful memories of the past?

I hated hearing myself cry.

It was a moan, and each few seconds a gulp of air would be taken in. I would cough slightly, and I'd force my eyes shut with that burning sensation behind my eye-lids. This is precisely why I hated crying. I could feel something against my back, but I didn't pay attention to it.

I felt like I was going to die. I felt like my heart was going to pump out of my chest, and that I would seize up into a little ball. I was definitely having a panic attack.

I could feel my body being pulled into something soft. I looked up to see what it was, and... embarrassingly enough, it was Twilight. Her wing was draped over me, and she had pulled me in. Her eyes were closed, and she gave off a soft hum while she sat with my underneath her.

I could feel something stepping to the other side of me, and assumed it was Starlight. I didn't check though, because I was comfortable and... safe, underneath Twilight's wing. I didn't feel like the weight of the world was crushing me all at once. I felt like I was sitting in my grandma's room, hugging her tightly after another night of terrible drinking.

I wanted to speak, but all that would come out was choked gasps for air while I continued to cry. It took a couple of tries, but I finally got something out. Something that I've been telling myself for awhile now, and I never realized why I said it.

"I'm okay... right?"

Author's Note

God, this was a heart-wrenching chapter for me to write. Honestly, my throat closed up while writing this, and I hope I was able to get some of that from any of you.

I've had friends who've gone through things like this, and have experienced a bit of things myself. I suppose that's why I have such an emotional response to it.

Oh, and remember how I said I was going to wait for my finger to heal? I keep ignoring that. My urge to write is much brighter than I thought, and my hands just keep moving even when it's so painful that I have to take multiple pills.

It's worth it though. For all of you.

Usually, I'd write something here like 'write some criticism' or whatever, or even a special quote, but I don't have that today. All I have is something simple, and I hope you feel it as much as I do.

I love you.