In The Night

Hey, I almost forgot to tell you about myself, I bet you’re all not wondering that, but I’ll tell you anyways. I’m going to keep this short n’ sweet. Why? Well I’m feeling kind of down right now, you may know why. But I’ll get straight to the beginning for you folks, I hate to keep the reader waiting, even if I’m only talking to myself; writing to myself.

It all began when I was in Cutie High or Junior High for some ponies. Cutie High is for those who just acquired their Cutie Mark and are ready to take their learning to the next level, usually 2-3 months after acquiring your Cutie Mark. But rarely does it take that short of time. In reality, it takes around a year to even get your transcript looked at, and another 2 months for the results. Of course you already know this, but I was just recapping, just incase some silly filly forgot the excruciatingly agonizing perennial process those months of waiting can be.

Anyways, back to the original topic, Me. My Cutie High years weren’t the best years; I was alone during those years. No one really knew me, yet I knew everyone. My first year in Cutie High was when it all began, my streak of lonerism. Never was I so alone than I was in those years; no friends, no acquaintances, no relations, only I and what I like to call The Wall, The Tree, and the Bench.

What are those, you ask? Those were my “friends”; they were who I hung out with during lunch time. It was only The Wall and I; only The Tree and I; only The Bench and I. No pony else for three straight years, all I did was sit and watch the others; the others with their friends. Oh how I dreamed for a friend, every new pony I saw I always thought “oh maybe we’ll be the bestest of friends”, “maybe I’ll finally have somepony to talk to, to be with in friendship.” It happened once, but all too easily do you just have to remove the “r” from Friend to get Fiend.

I’ll save that tragedy for a later story, but if you’re wondering what happened say no more, I’ll tell you.  However, for now it’s just me, but I’ll give you a hint. Let’s just say this: nothing is ever as it seems. I never looked at friendship the same since then, never. It changed me, but not into how I am now, more of a precursor.

One thing that I’ll never forget is my last year of Cutie High; it was the worst. Many can relate; many cannot, but those who can know what this is like. That was the year I came into first contact with that word; bullying. Never had I hated so much; never have I wanted to end it so badly; never have I looked at PonyKind the same. It leaves its special place in your memory; something that can never be forgotten fully.

Again, perhaps a later story, one that I might be able to go in-depth with. You might be wondering why I’m not telling you these stories. Well, if you must know, I feel some stories deserve their own little chapter; their own little cradle to call theirs.

College, heh, College, on the other hoof, was very different. College was where I met CloudChaser. How we met is its own story, but back to the point. She was the one who invited me to all the parties going on in College; she was one of those Mares that knew everything there was about partying, not a single party was left unheard by her ears. I never knew why she invited me to all the parties, but I never asked, in fear of never being invited to another one ever again. I would always accept the invitations,mostly because I was tired of being that lonely outcast that would always sit by themselves watching everypony that would pass by.

CloudChaser always told me to just "go with the flow", to just "let the party take me." Reluctantly, I listened, and the next thing I know, we're best friends. She was my first actual friend, unlike somepony long ago, but even now CloudChaser and I are best friends. Yeah, College sure was fun, everypony always said that College is the most stressful years of your life. Well, I don't l know anything about that, but I don't regret anything from those years, except the drinking, I would learn that the hard way.

So yeah, how about that AirPegasi food? No, i'm just kidding, it's aweful, but back to my mane point. That’s only the short story of things; of school. But home is where the heart is, which is why this hurts the most. Home… your own little vestige of sanctuary, of hope. Not for me it was. For me it was just another place to be hurt; another place where you can never sleep when you want to.

I was revealed to what can only scar a pony, something easily noticeable by those who have been through the same tragedy. Something nopony, as young as I was, should ever be exposed to when little. However, you may be thinking I was abused or inappropriately touched. But this is far from it. In fact, it was something I lost; something that once lost, can never be attained again. I lost my innocence.

My parents always wanted me to be innocent. I think that’s what all parents want in their children; for them to never lose what can never be found again.  I lost it at home, my dome of solitude, my palace of hope. In what way, you may ask. They say curiosity killed the cat. Never has a phrase been so true. I lost it in a way one never forgets; you can never forget what precious things you lose.

I lost it through something frowned upon, but also glorified as a savior among Ponies. What am I talking about, you may ask. I’ve been giving you some cliff hangers, so I’ll tell you this one. I lost it through Onanism. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I liked it. When I crested I was completely blown away; I thought I was about to die or something worse; I’ll get pregnant, which is bad at the age I was. I didn’t do it again until a couple of months after the initial shock had worn off. You may say it’s not a loss of innocence, but for somepony as young as I was, it was definitely scaring.

Sadly, I still do it, it’s a hard thing to get rid of, you know? Thankfully, I don’t do it as often as I used to. Still, I do it, yet I admire those who don’t do it; they’re strong, and I know how hard it is not to do it, I'm sure others can relate. There was another event that changed my life, it was scary for those who have seen it, but not for the one who is going through it. What am I talking about? I’m talking about death.

I was still just a blankflank when this occurred. I remember it as clear as day; those who also experience near death situations know what I’m talking about. I’ll tell you this, too. It was at night, around 8:00 PM, I was 5 years old, my parents were arguing over who would give it to me, I guess the excitement is what got me. What I’m talking about is an asthma attack. They were arguing over who would give me the respiration treatment, or breathing treatment as they called it.

Next thing I know I was hyper-ventilating; I guess it was too late for the treatment. Right then my dad took me and rushed me over to the hospital, but as soon as we reached the hospital block was when everything went white, it felt like it was only 5 seconds. The next thing I remember is getting a needle stuck into my right foreleg, I remember saying “ow, ow that hurts.” I finally woke up to the doctor and my dad standing next to me; I've never seen my dad in such a panic. I only saw apart of him, but he looked worried, scared, anxious, shaken beyond belief.

After that day I was always a little cautious, as were my parents, around things like amusement parks or Fairs. I was kind of sad, too, after that event. I was never able to run, least I have another attack; I liked running, it made me feel free, like I can go anywhere I wanted if I just kept going.  Rarely are your dreams ever a reality.

I learned that lesson earlier than I probably should of. Once I figured that out, I never dreamed big again, but one can dream can’t they? Yeah, one can dream. I used to be kind of a big deal in Filly school, too. I was the fastest runner, even if I could never run that much; how I admire the irony. But as soon as Cutie High came along, I figured that being the fastest runner meant nothing, not in Cutie High; trophies meant nothing. I learned that nopony really cares; all my dreams, hopes, desires ended right then and there.  It was in Pony High, did I truly become who I am; did I truly become lost.

When I was a FreshFoal I only prolonged it, but come my Sophomare year was when I became me. I don’t know what happened to me that made me who I am now, one day I wake different. It was strange, I saw everything differently, thought differently, became a sort of crazy. I started talking to myself, which I still do, mumbling gibberish, words like: Untestag, Liesay, Undefine, and any other strange words that I might say when talking to someone or myself. I have no idea what they mean, but they seem to make sense to me, strange isn't it?

I started becoming depressed, never really wanted friends anymore, ate lunch by myself, did group projects by myself, usually the one explaining it all, too, yet the other members would also get credit; I hated that. I never really talked, but if somepony asked me a question or tried to start a simple conversation I would talk and keep it going. I’m not anti-social, I’m just… I don’t know; I don’t know who I am. I've asked this many times before, to myself that is, yet I can never figure myself out. Why am I like this? I lived an average life, did average things, I’m no pony special, yet I feel so distant and lost in this world; this world of harmony.

It’s a world of harmony… so why can’t I attain? I've done my job as a pony in this world, I've given my contributions to society, yet does life, this world, still bombard me with confusion and depression. Why do people like me have to deal with this? Is it not the job of the strong to carry the burdens of the weak? So what am I; strong or weak? Nopony seems to be taking these burdens, so I’m guessing I’m strong. If this is what the strong have to deal with, then the weak should give us thanks. Yet, I don’t want to be thanked, never did I like that word, thank-you.

Sure, I was thankful, but never did I want thanks, I just wanted whoever to be happy. I’m a generous pony, I’d give when it wasn't even needed; they said “thank-you”, ugh, I don’t want their thanks, I want some peace. They say to give is better to receive, so why can’t I feel better? What is a land of Harmony, when ponies like me are suffering from whatever it is I’m suffering from? Who can hear my pleas? Why do I continue to howl at the night, expecting things to change? Why do I continue to do it, when I know nothing will happen? What, am I insane? Possibly, but… maybe I am insane.

No, no I’m not insane, insanity is for the weak, I am strong, my mommy and daddy raised me to be strong, and I will not let them down! DO YOU HEAR ME MOM? DO YOU HEAR ME DAD? I’M NOT WEAK, I’M NOT GIVING UP.  WHY AM I SHOUTING? THEY CAN’T HERE ME! JUST SHUT-UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE! YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE TALKING HE- SHUT-UP! I KNOW THAT, I’M NOT INSANE, I’M NOT CRA- THEN WHAT IS THIS?! YOU THINK OTHER PONIES DO THIS?! YOUR NOT SPECIAL, YOUR NO- YES I KNOW THAT, SO WHY CONTI- I DON’T KNOW, ALRIGHT? I don’t know… maybe I’ll never know.

Well, maybe now you know me, maybe you know what I’m like, how I am, what makes me, me; why I’m like this. Maybe… only those who care to understand will know; no one cares, though. No one ever cares. I need to visit her, she needs to know somepony cares, she needs comfort; she needs peace.

I have to go; I’ll talk to you later.

P.S. So this is me… I’ll talk to me later. Can you guess yet? Who I am? Can I guess who I am yet? No… some things… some things never change; some things are never meant to be found. I'm tired... I think I'll sleep a little before I leave. I rubbed my eyes... they're still on. Why can't I...