Two dreams in a row…what are the odds, right?

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the most beautiful beach I’ve ever seen. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, and the sun was shining down right above me. Whenever I go to a sunny beach, my feet always get burnt from the hot sand, but here it was cool to the touch. I could run my hand through that fine white sand for days without feeling a thing, and the way the ocean sparkled in the sunlight- breathtaking.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but at some point a gray pony with a blue mane sat down next to me. I’d never seen him before, but I did recognize the blue sapphire tattoo on his hip. “Well,” he said after a time, “that went swimmingly.”

“Is that supposed to be a pun?”

Without bothering to look at me, he rolled his eyes. “Shut the fuck up you stupid asshole, you know damn well what I’m talking about.”

As a matter of fact, I didn’t know what he was talking about, and I certainly didn’t appreciate his tone. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“I hate to say it, but I’m you ya’ stupid bastard.”

“You look nothing like me,” I chuckled. I don’t know what was funny, but when do things in dreams ever make sense?

“Really?” he said sarcastically. “Maybe that’s because I’m a PONY,” he shouted to my face. “Dumbass.”

Pony me was kind of rude. “You can do without the insults-”

“Oh go hump a cactus,” he interrupted, flinging sand into my eyes. “You don’t deserve politeness you fucking prick.”

“If you have a problem with me, just say it!” I shouted, rubbing sand out of my eyes and spitting it out of my mouth.

The pony threw more sand in my face and spat at my feet. “Of course I have a problem with you! You keep bitching about how everyone else is such a fucking prick to you, and then you break Twilight’s heart!”

That’s what this was about- Twilight. I’d completely forgotten about her and what I’d done. I only felt bad for a second though. “It’s for the best,” I sighed, falling back into the sand and closing my eyes.

He threw more sand at me but I ignored it, and when I did that, he punched me in the nose. Even though it was a dream, it felt incredibly real. When I put my hands to my nose, he jabbed me in the stomach, forcing me upright. “For the best? I loved her!”

I swung at him, but my arms moved with all the speed of a snail. He blocked my arm and head butted me back into the sand. Then, with another jab to the stomach, I was upright again. “You don’t think I did?” I said spattered, “She was the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.” Leaving her the way I did was difficult, but it had to be done.

He grabbed my face with both hooves and pulled me close. “Then why?” His grip was getting tighter, and I think he was trying to crush my head.

“Because it was wrong,” I said coldly. I really shouldn’t have said that, because he was immediately on top of me, beating me wherever he could land a punch. At last, I found the strength to fight back and I rolled him over, trying to strangle him. “You hear me? It was disgusting,” I shouted. I might have been smiling, eager to finally get rid of this damn nuisance.

I would have held him down until he was dead, but when he started to cry, I felt the painful emptiness grow in my stomach. It became unbearable, and I finally had to throw myself off of him to make it stop. Any second now he was going to charge at me, I was sure of it, but he never did. He just lay in the sand, sobbing. “She’s a pony,” I panted, falling back into the sand, “and I’m not.” Blood or a tear ran down my cheek.

The pony got to his feet and sat beside me, wiping his tears away. “I want to know why?”

Didn’t he just hear me? I thought I’d made it pretty clear: “Because it’s bestiality!”

He grabbed me by the shoulders and started shaking me. “But why?” This was like listening to a broken record that could punch me. “Why is it wrong?”

“Because,” I repeated, confused, “it’s bestiality.” It was wrong because it was a sexual attraction to a pony. What else was I supposed to say?

With a pained sigh, he shoved me away and beat the sand. Something was clearly angering him, but I had no idea what. Could he not wrap his mind around the concept of bestiality? “What am I supposed to say?” I finally shouted.

He pulled his foreleg back, ready to take another swing at my head, but he didn’t. His hoof trembled as he lowered it, doing the same breathing exercises I do. “That’s not an answer,” he said through gritted teeth, “you say being with a pony is wrong because it’s bestiality, but that’s circular logic! I want you to tell me, right now, what is so wrong about loving Twilight.”

“Because,” I said, pointing at him. If I said bestiality he would surely throttle me. “Um,” was the only other thing I could think of. I stared out at the sea, trying to think of something.

“You were both consenting adults. Both of you have higher thought processes which, in case you somehow forgot, ponies on Earth don’t have…hell,” he said, flinging more sand at me, “she’s smarter than you.” This conversation was making me uneasy. “Neither of you were hurting each other. Well, not until-”

“That was an accident,” I interrupted. I knew what he was going to say, and I never wanted to be reminded of that fuck up again.

“Oh,” he rolled his eyes sarcastically, “well in that case it’s perfectly fine! I’ll keep that in mind when I stab you in the face.” With this guy, I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. “The multiverse would have been entirely unaffected if you were with her. Except for your moment of dumb-fuckery, no one was hurt, so I’d love to hear what the fuck the problem is!”

“I don’t know.”

“And you want to know why you don’t know?” he asked, pushing me to on my back and pressing his hoof on my throat. “Because there isn’t one. Twilight didn’t care what you looked like, god dammit,” he pressed down harder, “she trusted you.” The pressure on my neck was painful, but it was nothing compared to the void I felt throughout my body. “She showed you love and kindness like you’ve always wanted and you spat in her face because you couldn’t look past her appearance.

“You don’t deserve Twilight, you fucking piece of shit. You don’t deserve to be happy.”

I cried out as my neck finally snapped and I woke up in my bed- my lumpy, rock hard excuse for a bed pressed against the wall of my cramped, grey, seven by five foot room.

This is all I deserved.

Author's Note

I wanted to try out the first person approach...don't much care for it.