Several years later…
It was a beautiful day in the clearing. The flowers were blooming, the birds were chirping, the grass was bending to the wind, the clouds occasionally were passing overhead, it was truly a sight to see. He just laid there, looking first at the sky, then over to the pony at his side, and back again. He could just rest there, forever.
Thud. He opened his eyes in shock, finding himself on the floor. He looked around his room. His pale green walls gentle on the eyes, yet incongruous against the concrete cityscape. His grey carpet, on the other hoof, blended quite well, especially with the clutter of personal belongings. Comic books, toys, video games, and the few clothes he had among the clutter, all pushed aside to form little grey strips. Posters for various games and series spread seemingly randomly across the walls. And amongst the mess stood Nemo’s mother, the one who Nemo suspected as the one who pulled him literally out of bed. Nemo inferred that his mother was not the sanest or most placid pony, a fact his father knew all too well.
“Wake up, it’s time for school!” half-shouted the neither sane nor placid mare. Nemo tried his hardest to remember what school was, but it escaped him at the moment. Oh well, he thought, he will cross that bridge when he finds it. He, or rather his mother, dragged himself down the stairs in his deep thoughts. Nemo’s father was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper. “Hear this: ‘Pegasus Preforms Sonic Rainboom… A Second Time!’ Isn't that amazing? Honey, are you even hearing this?” Indeed, his wife was not listening to him.
“I think there is something wrong with him.” Her pointed statement almost punctured the newspaper. “Well, ummm…, I do believe that is how everypony acts at this age,” calmly defended the pegasus. “This is what the pediatrician told us to expect.” The earth mare was only comforted a little, scratch that, not at all by the defense. Nemo was unfazed by the brief argument that ensued, instead his thoughts drifting though his brain and eventually to his tail. In this winding train of thought, he started to cringe, for a passenger named School came aboard. The foal was physically cringing, which only fueled his mother’s fire. “See, just look at him. He is not fine. I knew it. We need to get him to the hospital.”
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a bit? He was probably cringing at your yelling.” Yeah, Nemo thought, I wish that was why I’m cringing. Or would have thought if he wasn't too busy lying on the ground, hard and cold as it was, reflecting his innermost thoughts of his limited, yet vivid, experience with this “school.” “Blank flank” was such a common phase around him; some teachers actually believed his name was Blank Flank. Other such phases that were uttered around him are so harsh; the author does not want to type them. He was in a constant state of dread during his imprisonment, as odd a sentence as it was, going to a facility every day to a group of ponies, of which few he trusted. His parents, meanwhile oblivious to the agony, were in a state of panic. And by his parents, I mean his mother.
She was in a fury over his condition. So much so, that she would have required more medical attention than poor Nemo. In her distress, she failed to notice her foal bolt to his room, only to be dragged out by his father. The foal was given his pack and lunch, and waved off to the bus stop. To the melancholy of the gray pony, the bus stop was deserted. Nemo took the opportunity to think.
He was resentful, and yet oddly hopeful, Nemo was about school. This year, he was going to a new school district. But his mind wandered as he boarded the new-fangled school bus. He wondered how the bus worked, and how one could drive such a thing, but was too nervous to come to any conclusions. The ride was uneventful, as he avoided his presumed schoolmates. He overheard a word here or there, but did not bother to comprehend them.
He looked out the window, with something having caught his eye though it. He noticed a large building ahead, with an Equestrian flag in the front. Here is where he would live out his sentence, Nemo thought. As they filed out of the bus, Nemo avoided any contact. The gray pony tried to reach the school unnoticed, but to his disappointment, failed in this endeavor.
“Hi.” This simple phrase caught him off-guard, making him stumble backwards into several fillies, who all strolled away. “Sorry about that, what’s your name?” He was thrown for a loop, who would want to talk to him? He glanced at the speaker. She was a filly, about the same age as he. She was an off-white (yellow-tint), dark-maned unicorn. Upon further inspection, she had brilliant dark-blue eyes that would make sapphires look almost cyan. He was speechless.
A “Well?” from the filly broke the silence of what seemed liked hours. “Nemo. Nemo Curat. What’s yours?” he was able to force out.
“Mine is Parva Manna. But everypony calls me Mea. Don’t ask, I don’t know why either.” The off-white filly had a certain charm to her, as was evident by the crown she attracted. “Sorry about startling you.”
“That is fine, really. It’s just… I didn’t expect anypony to talk to me.” Nemo, in hindsight, regretted saying that, despite the fact that nothing came from it. He just regretted it.
Their potential conversation was interrupted by the bell. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in class.” And with that, the filly dashed away into the school building. Nemo slowly crept up to the school. This would be it. There would be no turning back. So, he extended his hoof, and pulled the door open to the busy, bustling hallways of his new prison.