Twenty-five.
I know this number is supposed to mean something to me, but I just lack the energy to care. I am now twenty-five years of age; whoopty-flippin-do. All today tells me is that I am now twenty-five year old closet brony who lives alone and prefers it that way.
Twenty-five years of feeling misunderstood, left out, untrusted. My closest friend hadn't talked with me for awhile; last time he did was probably around a month ago. I look at the calendar and see the circled date, the thirtieth of April, year two thousand twenty. I sigh as I roll out of bed, tired of the boring monotonous life cycle.
Get out of bed, work, come home, read some more fanfictions, play some video games, go to sleep, repeat. It had been this way ever since I had graduated. I walk into my kitchen and look into the fridge. Seeing nothing of interest that is quick to eat, I make myself a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
I pick up my small meal and saunter over to my desktop computer, socked feet quietly padding upon the wooden floor of my apartment. As I sit down, I devour the sandwich, starting by tearing off the crust and saving the soft center for last. I boot up my computer and log into it.
As my background picture of Luna appears on my desktop with the icons popping up in front of it, I sit back and take a moment to think about the show and my views on it.
So many bronies had a 'favorite pony' and constantly got into heated arguments about it. I however, no matter how much I thought about it, did not have a favorite pony for the usual reasons. Luna has always been my favorite, not because she could fight, or that everyone loved her, but because I understood her pain of being an outsider.
After seeing the Season Five finale five years ago, I had nearly cried when she stood in Discord's way although ponies still rejected her in fear. I stared at her figure in my desktop window once more before suddenly shutting it down again.
The rebellious part of my mind deciding that it is my twenty-fifth birthday, and I am going to go out and have a great time. I stand up from my chair quickly, nearly making it topple over. I walk over to the coat rack and grab the one that says 'John S.' in big black sharpie.
I open the door to my apartment, walk out, then close and lock it as quietly as possible so as not to upset my temperamental neighbor. As I walk past the door directly next to mine, my features soften a little as my fingers brush against her door.
Fiona has been the only thing in my lonely life that has made it worth living. However, it's more like a bit of friendship than any actual feelings for her. Two of her friends from town were really obnoxious bronies, though. I believe their names are, Jack and Anon? Anyways, I have no idea why she hangs out with them.
I drop my fingers and move on, approaching the silver elevator doors. Once the elevator reaches the bottom floor and opens, I walk out through the plaza as I plan my day. I check the clock, seeing that it's about 3:30 in the afternoon. Okay, so first, I'll drop by Gamestop to see if they have any new video games I've been wanting. Next, I think I'll stop by Target and see about clothes. Third, I'll just go to Red Robin for a nice, delicious lunch. Once I finish there, I'll go to King Soopers and restock on groceries, splurge a little on sweets, and then go home. By the time I finish, it should be about seven.
I open the door to the large Land Rover I had requested specifically for my six-foot three frame and hop in. Upon closing the door, I calmly slide the key into the ignition and twisted, the familiar purr of engine calming me. Now, I am nowhere near to being obsessed with cars, but I still cared for this one in particular.
I drive through the streets, noting the small amount of traffic between me and my destination. After some not-skillful-driving, I came to a parked position in the closest possible parking space to Gamestop. As I get out of my car and walk towards the shining red and white logo, I can almost hear the angelic singing that seems to go with it.
I push open the door and walk in, one of the more friendly associates immediately coming up to me and asking if I need any help today. "No thank you," I say with small smile, "I'm just looking for a game that may interest me." He smiles and walks back to behind the desk.
I look through many of the Xbox games, happy to see that my favorite series is still going strong, Halo: Combat Evolved all the way through Six on the shelves. I pick through each of the games, until I spot one I've been waiting for. I quickly grab the Limited Edition Destiny Three off of the shelf and practically run up to the front counter.
He takes the game from me with a small smile and rings it up, the total coming to about a hundred and twenty dollars. As I walk out of the doors, I am so engrossed in the back of the game that I barely hear him call out to me.
"Have a great day sir!" He calls out after me. I turn around and give him a smile and a wave, happy that at least someone in the world was optimistic.
~~~~~~~~~~
I shut the door to my Land Rover and toss the Target bags into the back seat next to my new video game. It had possibly been one of the most boring and irritating trips to Target I had ever had. After choosing the clothes I wished to have, I had to wait in the check-out line nearly ten minutes as a customer decided to have a nice, long chat with the only open cashier.
After the ten minutes were up and the lady left to her car, I practically slammed down the bag of clothes in front of the cashier, making her jump. I grumbled a thank you as I left, and it wasn't vibes of anger I felt coming from her, but ones of fear. I immediately felt bad, but did not apologize.
I sit down and wrap my fingers around the steering wheel, letting most of my anger just flow out. I like to blame the anger that seems to come naturally to me onto my male hormones, but sometimes I wonder if that’s actually the case.
Although it only takes about five minutes to get there, by the time I pull into the parking lot at Red Robin’s I have let go of most of my anger. I hop out of the car and lock the doors, placing the keys into my pocket. I walk through the door and am almost immediately seated.
As I sit down into the comfortable cushions of the booth, I experiment a little with my mind, trying to replicate the feelings of anger I felt. After a few seconds of thought, I realize the lively chatter of the restaurant has quieted to hushed whispers.
I look around the room, realizing that they had all been staring at the faces I’d been making as I experimented with my anger. As none of them would meet my eyes, I yet again realized that they still feared me.
A subconscious spoke to me within my mind, “Yes, they should fear you. You deserve revenge after all you have been through. Make them understand your pain!”
I almost began to listen to it too, as I realized my hand began inching towards the steak knife at my right hand. I drew it back immediately and slowly stood up and began walking towards the doors, giving the nearby waitress an excuse that I had somewhere I needed to go.
I walk out of the restaurant and climb back into my Rover, and sigh. At least at King Soopers I won’t really have to speak with anyone to accomplish my goals. I look at my clock, realizing that it was only about two hours until seven.
~~~~~~~~~~
I walked out of the King Soopers in a much better mood than at Red Robin’s. I now have enough food to feed a small army (figuratively) and a small apple pie, all for moi! I have to keep myself from grinning like an idiot and humming 'Happy Birthday' to myself as I set the groceries down next to my new copy of Destiny Three.
The drive home seems like it's taking forever, and once I finally pull into the driveway, it takes three trips to get all of my groceries up the elevator. By the time I manage to get all of the groceries through the door, I'm rather tired. I go through the apartment, flipping light switches on and placing the groceries where they belong into the fridge and pantries.
Once that is accomplished, I open the apple pie and give myself mental pat on the back for completing twenty-five years of life. I quickly dig in, eating every last piece of the delicious pie. Once I finish, I toss the plastic container into the trash and look at the clock.
In about ten minutes, it will be the exact time I was born; midnight. I look back down to Destiny Three, seeming to call out to me to begin stroking the luscious curves of its beautiful disc, all the while speaking romantic words in the candlelight.
Whoa.
That definitely escalated a little quickly. I look out of the window and a split-second decision. I look to the case again, "I'll be back in a little bit," I speak softly, giving the case a little wink.
I push through my apartment door, yet again closing it behind me as quietly as possible. This time, however, I proceed to take the stairs instead of the elevator. It only takes a few seconds, but the breath of fresh air from the night sky is incredibly refreshing from the stairwell.
Glad that the sun has finally gone to rest with its annoying brightness heat, I look up to the full moon and bask in its soft light. For my entire life I have felt as though I had some connection to the moon, almost like it were an actual friend. Someday, I'm going there just for the heck of it.
I sit down onto some of the ceiling ductwork and stare at the formations of the craters, just as it turns to midnight. Suddenly, the craters seem to change shape until it looks more like the head of a unicorn. That's odd, it looks exactly like the Mare in the Moon.
A sudden burning itch at my thigh brings me out of my revelation. I chuckle to myself, "Well, I guess Destiny is Calling for me."
I walk down the stairs again, and once I reach my door, a wave of exhaustion ambushes me. My waking mind fights valiantly, but was taken by surprise. And such, the warrior succumbs to the forces of the night as I trudge past Destiny; that'll have to wait until tomorrow. I look at the clock on my way to bed, barely noticing that I apparently spent twenty minutes on the roof.
I walk into my room and begin stripping by first taking off my blue t-shirt, and then taking off the denim jeans I always wore. As I look at the figure in the mirror (occasionally posing impressively), the stupid itch returns with a burning passion.
I scratch furiously, but like the forces of the night, my thighs were ambushed ruthlessly. I quickly strip off the boxers to see how big the bite size is, and freeze in shock. I look at the mirror to make sure I'm not seeing things.
There, on my thigh, is a giant splotch of midnight blue with a white crescent moon smack dab in the center.
To be more specific, Luna's cutie mark.
On my thigh.
On both sides.
I barely had time to pull my boxers back up before I collapsed on my bed unconscious