While you have set up your alarm clock before going to bed, certain disturbances, mainly a dry throat, have you woken up earlier than the hour set up. With sleepy eyes, you trudge to the bathroom, shielding your eyes from the light. While using your sense of touch, your brain recalls a distant memory.
“You’re new here so I will let you off with a warning. But if I see you again this week,” - As you tilt your head back to swallow the life-giving fluid, you slowly open your eyes - “you won’t be so lucky!”
Seeing the pair of predatory blue eyes again, you spurt at the mirror and spin around. No one was there, so you turn back to the mirror, and find the eyes are gone. You rub your eyes, looking at the mirror again to see if your suspicions are true. No peepers there either. Something is very odd indeed.
Taking your bike, you feel confident on your second day at Canterlot High. No dog following you around, you sigh with relief as you enter the building. You turn in your math assignment, go through your classes, which includes getting your head slammed against the bleachers courtesy of an ecstatic Zipporwhill. The big difference today is that it is an advisory day. After your fourth class, you approach a door with the name “Professor D.” labeled on it. When you enter the room, the first thing you step on is a hamburger wrapper. In fact, the entire room is a mess; it’s no wonder the only other student in the room is a girl with billowing hair resting her feet on the desk chair in front of her.
“He should be here any minute.” She says, invitingly tapping the desk to her right.
At first skeptical, you soon sit down. You’re not at all keen being one of the only two in a messy room, but what can you do about it? Make the best of it and introduce yourself to the lady next to you.
“I’m Anon.” You stretch your hand, waiting a while for a response. “Hello, me Anon, you are?”
“Oh,” - She turns her head to you - “I don’t give my name to newbies.”
You furrow your brow when she opens her eyes; instead of the usual colors and blacks, her peepers where swirls without any pupils. Bewildered, you decide to just look forward and play it cool.
“Everything in this room doesn’t make sense.”
“Make sense, make sense? What point is there in making sense?”
When you feel a breath on your black hair, you look up with a shifted face. From your perspective, a tall man, around his fifties at least from the look of his beard, stood behind you. Like his room and the child next to you, the man was also a topsy turvy anomaly. His eyes are yellow with red pupils of various sizes, his right canine so massive it pokes out from his lip, the sleeves of his suit textured in either fuzz or feathers, the same going for his pant leggings; the right legging you swore was made of alligator skin. If not his looks, then his height is what scares you while you raise a shaky hand
“So....” - You gulp - “Your Professor D?”
The man just sputtered before giving a hearty chuckle.
“Oh, Lulu wanted me to be more formal.” The man walks away from you. “You may call me Discord.”
“Discord? What kind of name is-?” Somehow you find Discord, as he is named, missing. You swerve your head before letting out a yelp at the sight of him casually lying on the desks.
“Well, my name is several light years long.” He raises his right hand. “I would spell it out, but explaining cold fusion would be better.”
You scratch your head, deciding to break the silence. “So, why are we here?”
Discord places his disfigured head on his hands. “Oh just to relax. Anything else?”
You rub your chin. “Would it be alright for me to transfer to another class.”
“Can.”
“Do I have to send a request?”
“Will.”
Those one-word answers had you grimace, so you think up with another question.
“Shall.” He answers before you get the chance.
With only fifteen minutes left before the bell dismisses you, you lean forward, pressing your arms, chest, and head on the desk. You shiver a little, but as the smooth surface warms, you feel your muscles relax. A stressful first day gave way to a relaxing second one. At least so far as you close your eyes, sighing in relief.
Sack lunch in hand, you swiftly, yet carefully, veer through the masses to the cafeteria. Even after yesterday, you couldn't help but admire the color scheme: mostly beige with the walls painted blue as with the banners displaying the Wondercolt insignia, sports honors, and past graduates. Not having made friends with those your age, you sit at an empty desk, munching on your homemade BLT. But being alone is bringing your sense of danger forward. You spin around, hands shaped like a knife.
“All right, I know kung fu and I’m not afraid to-!” Your assumed opponent is the same piebald woman you saw yesterday with Cosgrove and the day before. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Why are you sitting alone?” She asks, sitting across from you.
“Oh, I don’t know.” You take a bite of your sandwich, continuing to talk through your teeth. “When I make some friends, this table will be eating out of my hands.”
The girl turns her head left, then looks back to you. “Why don’t you just sit with us?”
You take another bite of your sandwich. “And be a dwarf in a den of giants?”
This didn’t phase her, but it did get her to leave. You chuckle victoriously, taking another larger bite of your sandwich. You savor the salty, juicy mixture of slim pork belly, tomato, and lettuce when you start feeling wonky. You grip the chair for dear life and grip the sandwich with your teeth as your feet leave the ground. Braving your butt being bounced up and down against the blue plastic, your fear peaks before seeing yourself be placed. Still gripped with fear, you shift your eyes to the left, seeing some of Cosgrove’s friends and Apple Bloom’s bicolor hair friend. You turn your eyes to the right, seeing the rest of the group. You look ahead, seeing the cloaked Cosgrove before you.
“Welcome to the fun club.” He mutters, leaning to his charcoal gray friend with yellow and red hair. “If you don’t mind.”
You see the slender man stand up, taking a deep breath while raising his index finger, one of many he possesses.
“Cosgrove,Apple Bloom,Sweetie Belle,Scootaloo,Chelsey,Diver,Tex,andme,Zipper.” He inhales once more, looking at you with eyes only a priest can love. He sits down, casually eating his leftover stew and ignoring your grimace.
“So, Anon.” You turn your head towards the one named Scootaloo. “Ever catch any waves in Florida?”
“Uhm…” You scratch your head. “Not really. I’m more of a beach bum than a surfer.”
“Aw…” - Scoots whined, returning to her meal - “I was hoping for some lessons.”
You see Sweetie Belle roll her eyes; Scootaloo might be one of those like that of an old neighbor of your who was basically a soccer mom. That might change later on, but for now, the bolt is locked. You look around once more; there isn’t anyone who even looks threatening.
“So, are there any… Bullies in this school?”
Some of your table mates shake their heads. You see your hands enveloped in shadow, looking to your left to see Tex looking at you.
“Bullies are cowards,” - He stretches his arms - “look how many of us there are. No one would dare attack a group this many. Remember: they go in groups of two or three. I bet even Chelsey could smash their skulls.”
You suddenly feel squished: looking up, you see Chelsey nudge her equal.
“Do you get bullied where you came from?” Asked Diver, taking another bite from her tuna sandwich. You look down, a guilty sense rising in you as you ball yourself.
“Hey.” You look up, seeing Cosgrove lean towards you. “We can promise that you won’t a bully for ten miles.”
“And if there are,” - You turn to Scootaloo again, raising hand and fist - “we’ll be there.”
After seeing her pound her hand, you look at everyone else giving you the same encouraging expression. You loosen up, ready to eat your BLT. But instead of the gestalt of food, you bite your finger in time with the doors slamming.
“Extra, extra!” While shaking your finger, you look back, seeing another slender man with a similar color as Zipporwhill and buck teeth. He held a large bundle of newspapers in his hand. “Strange figure strikes Estes Park again! Citizens terrified with fear!”
Featherweight, Editor in Chief of Canterlot’s “Foal Free Press,” rushes to you with the last copy in the bundle.
“Take it, friend,” - He gives you the copy - “arm yourself with knowledge.”
At the same time, Shady Daze, a man with a similar stature as Cosgrove, albeit in blue skin tones and hair color without facial hair, rushes to the cafeteria with two more bundles of newspapers. Featherweight aids his staff photographer, shouting his message while he hands the rest of the papers to the other classmates. The first thing you see in the paper is the silhouette of a winged figure.
Strange Figure Gets Away with Attack Again.
“So,” - You look at Cosgrove, flipping the newspaper back and forth - “this is why you said to be careful?”
You see everyone beginning to look uncertain; some looked away, some tapped their fingers, one pulls her lips into her mouth and looked away.
“There are other dangers.” Cosgrove answers, taking another bite of his food.
True, you think to yourself. Back home, you had to deal with alligators, gang wars, and hurricanes. What would this city have to offer when it comes to crime? You bite into your sandwich, thinking about the near future.
You were just finishing your geography homework when you feel a buzz in your pants. You take out your phone and log in.
“Working a little late tonight, can you pick up the rotisserie chicken?
Mom.”
You look at the clock, the small hand bordering Six PM. You think carefully; you and your mother need the chicken for dinner, but it is getting close to dark. No lollygagging or sightseeing; just a trip to the grocery store and back. You put on a light jacket, hop on the bike, and go downtown.
You rush into the grocery store, pick up the roasted bird, and begin your race with the setting sun. Pedal as you could, the astral fireball sank even faster behind the mountains. If not for the moon and city lights, it would be pitch black. In the open, you saw the shadow of a winged creature soaring at you, laughing hysterically. You pedal harder, not even taking the dare to look back.
“I’ve warned you the next time we meet!” She screams; you see the shadow grow larger, even swearing in your brain that you could feel sharp tips near your shoulders.
Then, a strong force sends you flying, slamming and scraping yourself on the asphalt. You groan, using your good arm to stand up. You look to find the winged figure defending itself against three winged beings. Like falcons to a goose, the smaller beings swiftly dodge several beams of light that destroyed large chunks of buildings. They fly away just moments before a rocket explodes on the larger being. No time to get the bike, you grab the chicken and run to the nearest building and hug the wall. You heavily pant, waiting patiently for the conflict to end. You look to your left; the red light in the corner casts the shadow of what you assume to be a large creature. You run down the alley, getting just a passing glance of a large, spiny tail entering the shadows. What creature was that you didn’t care to find out as you took a few shortcuts to home, where your mother’s car is now parked.
“This town’s volatile, don’t you think?” Your mother notices the wounds on your arms. “Anon! What happened?”
You look at the direction of the chaos, how she or the other inhabitants don’t see the damage happening in town, you don’t know. But you still have to answer your mother with,
“I fell.”