I do not own Hasbro, nor do I own My Little Pony Friendship is Magic
Chapter 8 Memories
I only caught bits and pieces of what went on around me as I faded in and out of consciousness. My conscious mind saw a maroon hoof, a cart and a hospital. My unconscious mind seemed to be reviewing important moments of my life. It was an unusual feeling seeing the events of your life, through your own eyes, powerless to act upon them or change them. It was like someone had given control of my body to some other entity.
I don’t recall much before I was three years old and living in Trottingham. There was a small maroon coated, brown maned pegasus filly that I was in love with, or at least a reasonable facsimile given my age at the time, I wish I could remember her name, it has been so long. She loved me back, she and I were inseparable. Unfortunately she moved away before I entered Magic Kindergarten. I was always a bit of an introvert, even early in life. I had few friends other than my brother and high Fever. My teacher thought there may have been something slightly wrong with me psychologically because of this. I often spent my recesses alone, High Fever was older than me by a year and my brother was at flight school.
In middle school, I earned my cutie mark in metal shop. Most were building small metal items for various purposes, mostly Mother or Father’s Day gifts. I spent most of class time thinking and eventually I built a small engine. It worked and my path in life became clear. Unfortunately, most of my middle school experience was clouded by painful memories I had been spending years repressing. I was the target of much bullying both physically and verbally at that time. I told the school administrators and they did nothing to stop it. It only ended when my father threatened them with legal action.
Unfortunately, the wounds to my psychology had already been done. I picked up a philosophy of stoicism to dull the pain, not wanting to give the bully the satisfaction of a reaction. I began apologizing any time I felt like I was inconveniencing someone in any way. My natural introversion worsened, I began isolating myself from other ponies, and I wished to merely fade into the background, despising any moment I was the center of attention. I became doubtful of any praise I received; I felt like I was worthless and couldn’t help anypony. Many of these trauma born behaviors diminished over time, but the last few never really went away. In middle school was when I went from a cheerful foal to the emotionally repressed colt I am today.
I have few memories of High School. Most of my memories after middle school came from my time at Canterlot University. I was so proud when I received my degree in engineering. For a time I worked as an intern for an airship manufacturer, then I worked for a corporation in Manehatten for a while. I eventually grew sick of building for a corporation, designing small consumer products when I could be designing machines that could benefit ponies everywhere. I opened my shop in Ponyville and moved to my current home on the mountain at about that time.
I recalled my first repair job, my first sold machine. The invention of the gem reactor and the two flights I took on the Icarus. Then, it focused on that fateful crash. It replayed in my mind several times, each time focusing on the mare I had saved. She seemed familiar to me, as if we had met before. The more I looked back the more familiar she became. The maroon coat was exactly like that of my foalhood sweetheart. She was the one I had saved.
My conscious was beginning to take hold. I began to hear voices. One was most certainly Nurse Redheart. The other was familiar, yet it was different than I had remembered. I opened my eyes. Two shapes were filling my vision. The image was blurred at first, but it was quickly gaining clarity. I doubted she even remembered me, it had been so long. I finally recalled her name, it was Iris Blossom.