Jeremy has suffered a somewhat minor depression with his life, but will find some happiness with the help of a... pink pony?
Life was hard for Jeremy, an eighteen year old boy. His house was falling apart, his school life was constantly in pain, his neighborhood was quiet, and his family disappeared when he was twelve. What he didn't have coming, was that he was to find some happiness in life with the help of a... eh... pink pony? This is going to be one wild ride for Jeremy.
How would I describe my school year? Crumpled papers, public lunches, and bruises. I am surprised that I have survived over twenty weeks already, with only one week left. After the torture, it will be summer. Summer means that I get to kick back and count the number of clouds that pass by in the sky. It's not like there is anything else better to do. The sky is usually cloudy, just like my mind. It's filled with conflicts on my mind about life, my life to be exact. Everyday, I am cursed with the thoughts of my life that could be like others, but stuck in this world I am forced to call "home".
As much as I despise "home", it was still better than school. All the classrooms are the same. Walls painted a plain, pale white. The teachers would all have different personalities. There were three types, in my perspective. There are those who are strict and only care about work, work, and more work. If I am lucky, I don't get to have one who cares about fun, fun, and more fun, such as the teacher in art class. They are almost always smiling, and it makes me want to just take the big bucket of paint and drown myself in it. Unfortunately, I had to have one of those this year, but at least there is only one more week of that demented prison. Finally, there are those who run the study hall and the library. They just want peace and quiet. What most students don't know, is that those teachers usually are playing on their phones, watching R rated movies, or some crap like that. I don't really care because peace and quiet is a luxury for me. I get to either sleep or think. Thinking is what I like to do in my spare time, when I'm not thinking about my terrible life.
Life at home is good, I guess. I have food (whatever is left in my broken refrigerator), water (the water trickling out of my kitchen sink's faucet), and a bed (a mattress on top of a stubby table with a feather pillow and very thin blankets). I don't really mind any of this much, but it does get pretty depressing at times. Mostly, it is always depressing. I realize suicide is probably not the answer (at times) because there may be more to life, but I just don't know when the time will come for my life to get better. All I care about, right now, is that there is only one week left of school, and tomorrow is Monday. I squatted down to get onto the mattress low to the ground. Although the blankets are thin, I don't really mind the cold breeze at night. It usually keeps my mind thinking about the cold instead about my depressing life. Yes, I admit it. My life is depressing! I screamed out to the sky, "Why!? Why me!? Please let me see the good in what the world has to offer!" In my moment of screaming, my mind became fuzzy. I probably passed out from the work used to scream that loud. Last thing I remember from that night, was about a tear running down my cheek and onto the mattress. Maybe things will get better eventually.
"Wake up you sleepy head!" I woke up with my eyes opening slowly, looking perplexed at the thought of my own mind talking to me to tell me to wake up. My vision was blurry for the first few seconds, but then it quickly cleared up. My eyes sprang open at the reaction of what my eyes were seeing at that moment. At first notice, I saw a few trees and the sun through one of the holes in the roof. In the center of the room, however, my eyes were focused on a pink figure starring at me. Following my instincts and reflexes, I quickly reached for a book I kept next to my mattress to read at night. Using the book, which was about 2 inches thick, I smacked the pinkish... "thing" on the head. It collapsed backwards to the floor. I was then staring at its eyes, which were swirling. By my basic knowledge, I would know that this thing isn't human. I knelt down to get a closer look at the figure.
I lifted one of its feet up, realizing it wasn't a foot at all. It actually looked like a... hoof? From also examining its tail, nose, and ears, I came to the conclusion that it was a pink... pony. My mind was filled with confusion at the sight of a pink pony laying passed out on the floor of my house. I really hope I didn't kill it. I may not be a huge fan of pink ponies, but I would never want to murder anything that hasn't harmed me first. After about ten minutes, the pony woke up. Feeling drowsy, she barely could stand up. Luckily, she fully recovered after about two minutes. It was amazing! It was like she was never hit by the book in the first place. I apologized to her in a semi-soft tone. She quickly smiled and said, "It's alright. I'm sure you didn't mean it." She quickly ran and jumped onto my mattress. The blankets went flying everywhere. She quickly asked a bunch of random questions like, "Hi! What is your name? Do you have any candy? I really like candy! What's your favorite of candy? Mine is sugary peppermint sweets of goodness. Hey, where are we? Why are you so tall? Why-." I put my hand over her mouth, but she carelessly licked it. "Mmmm! Tastes like sugar," she yelled out. At this point, I was kind of sad that she revived from the smack to the head by the book. For all this stress, I felt like just smacking myself with the book. I really hoped this was all a dream.
Turns out this was not a dream. There really was a talking pink pony standing on my bed right in front of me. Scratching my head, I had to decide what to do next, now that I have an unexpected visitor. So I decided to do what anyone else would do if they had a talking colored animal in their house, call the proper authorities to deal with it. That was when I realized one slight problem. How would they even react when I tell them that a pink pony has broken into my house? Would they think that I was mentally insane? Would they think that I was pulling a prank on them? Maybe calling was not the best option.
A few seconds passed by, and no words were exchanged. We stared at each other until I made the first comment. "Wh-who are you," I asked with slight hesitation. In a higher, squeakier voice, it replied, "I'm Pinkie Pie! What's your name?" The voice caught me off guard. I shook my head to gain sense into myself again and said, "Jeremy..."
She held out her hoof while exclaiming, "Nice to meet ya, Jeremy!" She chuckled after saying that sentence. I could not tell if she was laughing at my name or if that greeting was even funny at all. What I could tell is that she was expecting a handshake... or... hoofshake? I held out my hand but did not grab her hoof yet. I rotated my hand in different orientations, trying to figure out a way to grab her hoof, which had no digits on it. It was somewhat like the shape of a cylinder, yet able to flex, bend, and move around like an arm would be on a human. I decided to just grab the hoof with my thumb on top and my other four fingers wrapped around the pink flesh. The texture was not what I was expecting. It was... soft, much like a pillow or marshmallow. After we exchanged the shake, she gave a smile, but not as big as the one she had before.
I decided to ask the next obvious question. "What are you doing here... in my house?" Raising one eyebrow, she pointed at me and said, "I am here to help you with your problem." I continued to partake in the dialogue by replying with, "What problem?"
She giggled. "Your friendship problem, of course!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" I replied in an aggressive tone.
She started rapidly speaking, "MyfriendsandIgoaroundandhelpsolvefriendship..." I quickly interrupted her and said, "Can you... speak a little slower, please?"
"Okie dokie lokie," she exclaimed, "You see, my friends and I go around to help solve friendship problems. We follow this map that tells us where to go, and it calls us by our cutie mark!" She pointed to the picture of three balloons on her thigh.
"And the map brought you here?"
She chuckled, "I know! Crazy, right? You should have seen the look on Twilight's face when she saw my cutie mark symbol land on the edge of the map! She said that something like that has never happened before!"
I had many questions running through my mind right now, but my first reaction was to ask, "Who is Twilight?"
"Princess Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship!" She paused. "Oh... you probably don't know much about our place, do you?"
I shouted in a raspy voice, "NO! I don't know where you, talking pink pony, came from or how you got here, but the only problem here is you!"
She stepped back. "Somepony woke up on the wrong side of the mattress."
I stopped, took a deep breath, and exhaled. "I'm sorry. I'm just really confused right now."
"It's okay. I forgive you," She said with a grin. "Anywho, I'm from Equestria."
"Okay... but how did you even get here from your... world?" I asked curiously.
"I have my ways," she said with a smirk. I could tell she was not like a normal pony. Well, aside from the pink skin and hair.
"I'm sorry to tell you this, but there are not any friendship problems with me," I said assertively.
She pouted her lips and squinted her eyes at me, as if she knew something was up. I felt a drop of sweat from my forehead run down the side of my face. There was something about the face she made that intimidated me, and how could I be intimated by a brightly colored horse? She continued our dialogue saying, "Well I don't know what to tell you, Mister. My cutie mark said that there is a friendship problem in this location, and you are the only other one here. Tell me, has anything happened with you and your friends recently?"
I didn't know how to respond. I could not think of any excuses on the spot that would not get the pink pony suspicious of my actions, so the first thing I could come up with was...
"I haven't... really hung out with anyone as of lately," I mumbled while tilting my head towards the ground. To be honest, it was the truth. There was hardly any residence on the street that I lived on. By "street", I mean abandoned road. Nothing was lively here. This road was just filled with scraps from old, torn homes. I don't blame the people who chose to live on other streets around the area. Who would want to live in this "neighborhood"?
Pinkie tilted her head to the side in confusion. "Why not," she asked.
Did I want to tell her the truth? Of course not! I was never fond about the whole "talking about your feelings" type of conversing. However, I would have to come up with an excuse to why I was mumbling my words. It must be believable enough to make her not suspicious of me.
"Nothing," I said suddenly. Nothing? NOTHING!? That was all I could say? Then again, I never had a way with words. I blame it on my lack of social interactions.
Suddenly, she grabbed my arm with her hoof and pulled me onto the edge of the bed so I was sitting next to her. "Aw, come on now," she said with empathy, "I'm here to help you with whatever you're dealing with!" She put her hoof around my shoulders and pulled me in closer to her.
Feeling uncomfortable and claustrophobic, I stood up and started walking away without saying a word.
She smirked and said, "Come on! What's the worse that can happen? Even if I told anyone here, who's going to believe a "talking pink pony," as you put it?"
My eyes shot open at this point she made. Who would she talk to? It's not like any of my classmates or workmates would believe anything that she says. I turned around slowly to glance back at her and say, "Fine." I turned my whole body around to finish the rest of my statement. "I don't really have, or for that matter, need any friends. I am already busy as it is with work, school, and keeping this house intact."
She looked around the room to take in the atmosphere of the room. She looked back at me with a confused look and said, "This place doesn't seem very fun... or running for that matter."
I sighed at that remark. She was right. This house was still barely standing. I'm surprised the walls haven't collapsed yet. With the job I have, I can only afford enough to pay for either electricity or water, not both. However, I still have a generator that my father kept for emergencies. Although it only has a little power left, it can power at least four rooms or devices at a time as a source of electricity. Besides, I assume water is more important than electricity. You know, for survival purposes.
"Yep, living the life," I said with a sarcastic tone. Suddenly, my alarm clock began to make a constant ringing noise that startled the pink po... I mean, "Pinkie." She yelped as she sprung up from the bed with her eyes shooting wide open. "What was that?!"
"The ringing? That's my alarm clock. It's Monday, so I have to get ready for school."
