What's wrong with me?

[Here]https://docs.google.com/feeds/download/documents/export/Export?id%3D1p3J7bdESRb9IoUFX2\_1R1KmMvy2-jyctbV-U-APQ11E&followup=https://docs.google.com/feeds/download/documents/export/Export?id%3D1p3J7bdESRb9IoUFX2\_1R1KmMvy2-jyctbV-U-APQ11E]Here](https://www.google.com/accounts/ServiceLogin?service=wise&passive=1209600&continue=[url=https://docs.google.com/feeds/download/documents/export/Export?id%3D1p3J7bdESRb9IoUFX2_1R1KmMvy2-jyctbV-U-APQ11E&followup=https://docs.google.com/feeds/download/documents/export/Export?id%3D1p3J7bdESRb9IoUFX2_1R1KmMvy2-jyctbV-U-APQ11E) is the link to read it on Google Docs, should you so choose[/url]

Hello, there. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Alistair Featherflight, and I’m a pegasus. Well, kind of; that isn’t completely true now, I think. I was born a pegasus, but I had an accident with a lightning cloud when I was a small foal that removed almost my entire left wing. After I recovered, I was left with only a small stump where my wing should have been. I was grounded.

While all the other young pegasi in Cloudsdale were out flying in competitions and races, stretching their wings, feeling the sun and wind in their faces, I was stuck on the sidelines, hidden under the bleachers so nopony could see me and make fun of me. You would think other ponies would be sympathetic to a crippled colt, and some of them were; at least, they didn’t make snide remarks in front of me every time they saw me. I was so ashamed of my missing wing that I stopped attending my schooling; why bother when most of the classes involved flying anyway, and the other colts and fillies would just laugh and point at my lopsided appearance?

I felt it wasn’t just the students either, but the faculty ponies would cast looks at me that were a mixture of both pity and...I don’t know, smugness. “Don’t worry dear,” they’d tell the slower flyers in class, “at least you’re doing better than Featherless. He can’t even move his one wing well enough to flap it without knocking himself over.” I bet that’s what they said. That’s what the other ponies in my class told me, anyway. All the teasing and tormenting...it got to a point where I didn’t even leave my house for days at a time, and even then only at night. The lack of sunlight eventually turned my coat  into a pale shade of grey; I don’t even remember what color it was before, to be honest. Since I was inside a lot of the time, the darkness also affected my eyesight so I needed glasses just to navigate my way around without crashing into something.

Sometimes, when the rest of Cloudsdale was asleep, I’d go outside to just stare at the moon, wishing I could go far away from everypony else so they wouldn’t have to look at me. I’d sit and stroke my one wing, crying softly to myself, praying to Celestia that she would help me. Here I was, a pegasus colt with one wing, failing eyesight, and no talent or skills, still a blank flank even after everypony else had received their cutie marks. Even my little brother and sister had theirs, their talents found and futures charted out. I was so miserable. I didn’t know what to do. I just didn’t know what went wrong.

One night, when I was at my usual spot, I looked up at the moon like normal. Only, this time something was...different.

Normally I didn’t...feel so...sleeeepyyy....

I opened my eyes and looked around. A forest? Why am I here, on the ground?! It’s dangerous down here, and I can’t fly to safety! As if on cue, a blood-chilling howl pierced the still night air nearby. Timberwolves! I backed up against a shadowed tree, hoping against hope that I wouldn’t be discovered. Too late. A pair of yellow-green eyes appeared in front of me. Then another. And another. Soon, more than half a dozen of the ravenous, terrifying beasts were visible, slowly pawing closer and closer to where I was curled up in a ball, growling and barking louder and louder with every passing moment. I wanted to scream for help, for somepony to save me, but then decided that this was better. I would rather give in to the thorny teeth of the timberwolves then go back home where I was looked at as a burden, an outcast, a freak.

Heaving a sigh, I pushed myself up, closed my eyes, opened my wing and told them to go ahead, put me out of this misery. I welcomed them with open hooves, waiting to hear them shriek with pleasure, to feel the teeth digging into my crippled body. I was ready to die. “Come at me,” I whispered, “and do your worst”.

Suddenly the howling stopped. I heard the timberwolves retreating into the depths of the forest. What’s going on, I wondered, as I opened one eye and then the other. I was alone again: no wolves, but this time no trees, either. I was standing in the middle of a large field. It sounds cliché, I know, but that’s how I remember it. Pale moonlight streaming down onto an empty plain from a cloudless sky; a light breeze blowing from behind me. Not a sound anywhere except my still pounding heart.

“Hello, young Featherflight.”

I jumped as if I had just been bitten at the voice that came from right behind me. I turned and came face to face with one of the most beautiful mares I had ever seen. Princess Luna, guardian of the night and all things in it. Her long, dark mane floated in the gentle wind, her coat seeming to sparkle with hundreds of tiny stars. I quickly and, I’m ashamed to say, clumsily, fell to my knees before her.

“Your majesty! Forgive me, I didn’t were you know there. I mean, I didn’t there know you were, I mean...” I fumbled, trying to form a complete sentence and failing miserably. The princess gave a soft chuckle, sweeter than the sound  of a nightingale’s purest song.

“Calm yourself, young one. It’s alright. You have nothing to fear from me. This is only a dream, you are still asleep on the cloudside. You are safe.”

Gently she raised my chin with her hoof so I was looking directly into her eyes, brighter and more beautiful than the moon on a midsummer night. I had to look away so she wouldn’t see the tears forming in my eyes.

“What is it that troubles you, young Alistair? Why do you weep and turn away? What are you ashamed of?”

Ah, how I wanted to pour out my tears and troubles of the past years of my life to her, how I desperately needed to tell somepony of all the hurt I had inside me. How much I just wanted a friend, at least somepony who wouldn’t look at my missing wing and laugh or look at me with pity. “Princess, why can’t I find a friend anywhere? All my life I’ve been tormented and made fun of and looked at like a burden to my family; I don’t have any friends, I have no talent, I have nothing and nopony to live for. Why is life so hard for me? Why do I have to live this way? What did I do to deserve this?!” I must admit I somewhat shouted this last part, my voice shaking from the anger and sadness. The sweet princess didn’t even flinch at my raised voice; instead she raised her horn without speaking and conjured an image in the air: a town, bustling with activity, ponies coming and going, smiling, laughing, fillies playing. It seemed wonderful, too wonderful to be true. And then another shape formed in the middle of the town. A pony, no, a pegasus; a pegasus with-...I blinked. A pegasus with a grey coat, dark brown-black mane, grey-blue eyes, glasses, and one wing. Me. But I was smiling, laughing, joining the everyday life along with these strange ponies, genuinely smiling. And I wasn’t alone. I had friends there. I was happy.

“Princess, where is this place? What is it? Is there somewhere in this wide world that I could be accepted? Somewhere I can make friends?” “Yes, young Alistair. This place is very real, and there are some there who would gladly call you friend. I know; I have been there before. When I first came, I was rejected by most everypony, feared for who I was before. But a small group of ponies, and one pony in particular, helped me to change what I was doing wrong and helped me discover the magic of friendship. Seek out this unicorn,” she said, shifting the image to that of a purple pony with a small dragon by her side, “and tell her I sent you to her so that you may learn how to make friends of your own. At the very least, she and her friends will accept you gladly. Go, and discover what magic is friendship.” I bowed my head in submission, “Princess, thank you for this vision and this visitation. What is this place?” “Ponyville,” she said.

“And who is this pony I must seek out? What is her name?”

“Twilight Sparkle.”