He hated school with every fiber in his body, with every centimeter of his carapace and skin. In honesty, Veere would call it torture and a mistake that should've never been invented, but it was a thing. A pony thing. Besides, who needed to learn? Survival is all you need in this cruel and unfair world. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he slumped further into his seat during class, staring at the filly in front of him that had a snobby attitude. Ponies. He hated them.
"Bug," she'd say constantly, muttering it with such hatred that he could counter with his own bit of venom if he wasn't under careful watch by the teacher twenty-four-seven in case he tried to 'feed' or 'attack' her harmless foals.
Harmless? Physically. Verbally it stung him like his forced-dueling matches he would have to partake in every crescent, when his opponent's fangs tore through his flesh and injected such a paralyzing strike in his nerves like a death sentence...
Veere shook his head, growling to himself about how he was getting off topic. Nothing could shake his gaze from the orange filly with purple hair sitting across the room from him, staring at him as if he were an oncoming wave of death and terror and she was standing right in the center of it. It wasn't his fault his kind were keen to taking a pony's love, or even a life if necessary. They put us in this situation, Veere bitterly thought, crossing his arms and staring at the teacher as she gave her lessons to the students, casting an uneasy half-second glance to Veere every so often. We're forced to live like the brutes we were. Were.
He found himself getting the sniffles, and involuntarily swiping his arm across his nostrils to wipe it away. Like the blood from a fresh snout bleed..
Veere needed to stop such traumatic thoughts. Then again, he had lived through it, destined to become Drone 501. He always dreamed of walking around with a metal rod shooting a blue laser out of it, screaming about some Imperial faction he had no clue of, but merely thought it up on the spot. Yeah, he liked those memories.
"Veere? Veere!" The red shaded teacher called, breaking Veere of his rather random train of thought as he sifted himself back up, unfolding his arms as he leaned against the small counter he was given that was attached to his seat. "Yes, ma'am?" His voice was like gravel, rasp and deep for such his age.
"Can you answer ten times three?" The teacher asked, tapping a hoof on the chalkboard which held the math problem '10 x 3' written largely across it for those who couldn't read it from the back of the class.
Scanning his brain for an answer, he felt sudden shame for being so mentally behind in terms of education. Maybe that's why a year or so ago when his kind attacked they failed. He cleared his throat, staring uneasily among the judging glares and eyes of the colts and fillies, specifically the snobby filly and the orange one. He tapped his front hooves together as he stared at the counter, "I-I don't know it." Veere stammered, glancing away in a pathetic attempt to hide his shame for not knowing such a basic question.
The teacher's eyes softened, but he did not see it, and she glanced at the class, "Does anypony else know the answer?" The filly in front of Veere shot her hoof up, making his current attitude all the more sad when she answered confidently and abrasive, "It's thirty!"
He could not know how much emotion could be used in two words. A hint of jealously flared in his eyes as he leaned forward in his seat, folding his arms across the table as he dug his face into it. His tear ducts stung at him when the teacher gave a small smile and approved of her answer, before erasing the problem on the board and turning back around to continue the next lesson.
"Dumb bug," the filly before him hissed, "can't even solve a simple question."
"Sh-shut up." Veere muttered, his pupil-less blue eyes starting to gloss as she continue her silent verbal onslaught on the poor colt. "How'd you even get in here? You were probably too dumb to open the door that when Miss Cheerilee opened it she had to hold you up like a foal and carry you in your seat, because you're stupid."
Stupid..
Veere was.. stupid? Dumb? He shut his eyes in a weak attempt to block out the oncoming tears, and luckily that weak attempt managed to hold on. Huffing, he wiped his eyes of any stray tears and straightened himself, staring at the teacher who was explaining multiplication in the basics.
"When you multiply something, you copy it. For example, if I were to multiply, say, Scootaloo," Cheerilee said, pointing to the orange filly who was staring at the teacher blankly, "Since there's one of her, and I would like two, I use the problem one times two, and since two is multiplied by one once, there would be two Scootaloos here."
Back to zoning her out again. Well, he learned what multiplication was. The bare bones of it, anyways. The bell rung and kids went to the school playground, leaving Veere alone in his seat as he contemplated whether going outside or staying here until the final bell rung and he would be the usual last one out. He blinked, realizing he had blanked out for at least five minutes, realizing recess would be done in twenty minutes. Cheerilee stared at him with such genuine worry, he was beginning to hate her for such sympathetic feelings. Ponies are too mushy-mushy, Veere thought, a scowl forming, too soft.
"It's not right to be bullied, Veere." Cheerilee started off, pushing some papers off her desk to the side, "I know what you're feeling right now, and it isn't right at all."
What he was feeling? How could she know? She didn't know the constant judging stares, the whispers and the rumors that were spread about him. Carrying cooties, some sort of foal-only sickness. That was a thing? He didn't know. But apparently he held cooties. He bit his lip, a fang protruding out as Cheerilee continued, "Diamond Tiara will get a harsh talk about it. Listen, Veere, I care for you like I care for every colt and filly in here."
Now that was rich.
"If you're ever having an issue or in a bad pickle, I want to let you know that you can come to me for help. No matter what you think about me, I'm here for you." Cheerilee said, a small frown forming as she spoke more and more to Veere. He narrowed his eyes, thinking of it as some sudden sympathetic blockade that she stashed up to make him feel like he was safe. He wasn't.
Veere gathered his two books, math and science, planted them in his ragged rucksack and walked out to the playground. Now, the playground wasn't nothing special, two swing sets, some spinning thingies he had no clue were called, some plastic thing that swung one end in the air and the other down, and vice versa. There was a lot of ground though, and many toys and balls many groups of friends sat around with and talked to.
Adjusting his rucksack, he opened the door and walked down the wooden steps, ignoring each stare and whisper the foals were throwing at him. He sat at the spin circle thing and reached into a second bag, pulling out a poorly made daffodil sandwich. He took a bite, cringing at the taste as his teeth stung and screamed at him in pain. He had learned something about cleaning teeth, but how did you do it? Veere had no clue, and he didn't intend on-
Okay, that last bite really hurt. He cringed as he felt a fang jiggle and ache in pain at him silently as he took the bite. Teeth pain is harsh, he thought, swallowing the piece. Finishing his sandwich, he dangled his legs off the spin thingy. Something was to be thought of here, but at the current moment it wasn't anything he cared for. Not at the time, at least. Hopping off the spin thingy, he pressed on towards a dirt mound where he usually sat and watched the other colts and fillies play, but today was something traumatic and something he never knew of, but grew to hate instantly.
"BUG PILE!" A colt screamed, before the thunderous pounds of an entire horde of laughing and angry foals came rampaging at him like a bull who had seen red ten hooves away. He turned around, his eyes widened before he shielded himself, becoming violently crushed in a giant suffocating and blinding pile of colts and fillies who were crushing him and screaming in his ears, making him cry out in sudden pressure and pain, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Why does it hurt so much? I've faced so many worse things.. but it hurts so MUCH! Veere thought frantically, tears streaming down like a waterfall as he felt his body become numb on the left side, which was smashing into the ground. Eventually, they filed off him, leaving him cradling himself and crying like a foal who had just seen everything he knew evaporate before him. Laughter rang in his ears as he could make through blurry vision that one of the colts had picked up his rucksack and was emptying it out and tossing the sack on the floor, stomping on it as the foals around him cheered.
I hate ponies. I hate ponies. I hate ponies. I hate ponies. I hate ponies. Veere repeated, the more he said the more his mind screamed to attack, to unleash havoc upon these ponies, to give them the experience of an enraged Changeling. But his eye twitched, and nothing happened. His mind blanked, standing up and cutting their laughter off one by one as he just.. walked away. Not even Diamond Tiara's verbal harassment that followed him out of the school grounds stopped him.
He hated school, and he would have to come back tomorrow for another round of punishment. He never did notice the saddened glances of three fillies watching as he ventured out with a blank face and nothing he once had in his possession.
I hate ponies. He sniffed, his lips trembling as he walked away giving a silent sob to no audience but himself.