Not a Monster

by Dreamscape

A New Life

I sat huddled in the backseat of the air conditioned cabin of my parents’ car while being squeezed tightly between the excess of our luggage. My body was shaking from the frigid air that was being produced. In reality, the air coming from the vents was at the coolest, a little less the seventy degrees. Angered at my parents, I attempted to blame every problem that arose upon them, including the source of my shaking.

“Can you turn the AC down a little or something? It’s freezing back here,” I muttered.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” my mother muttered, her hands planted firmly in her lap. She turned to my stepfather who was too lost in his driving to notice my words. Of course she’d have to wait for his approval for anything involving me. He wasn’t even my real father, and he was the reason why we were all in that car.

I sighed and buried my face into my hands. “Whatever… just never mind. I can deal with it,” I mumbled weakly into my palms.

“You don’t have to act like that!” my mother snapped; I could see her enraged glare through the cracks of light between my fingers. I wanted desperately to release all of the pint up anger that was raging from within me, but knew I was unable to; it wasn’t her fault. My stepfather was the one with the career that required moving. I felt warm tears beginning to wet my hands and tried my best not to sob.

It was my senior year of high school, and I had always been under the comforting impression that I’d be graduating with the same students I had attended kindergarten with, with the exception of those that moved elsewhere. Suddenly though, not even midway through the school year, everything was turned upside down, and I was heading to a small town that I had never heard of before.

I had felt sick to my stomach since the day the news was announced to me. That nausea was growing even worse now that we were only about thirty minutes outside of the town. I felt as though I was unable to move and could vomit at any second.

To most, the idea of moving on to a new school was fantastic, or perhaps bittersweet if they had the kind of friends that I did. To me though, I believed it was going to the most traumatic event I would ever experience. I was awkward, and I wasn’t even sure how long it would take me to become comfortable around anyone new… if I even made it that far that is. The only reason I had friends back in my hometown was because we had all know each other since early grade school. I had a few acquaintances as well, but it wasn’t as if we were even close enough to have any form of conversation other than something general like school or weather.

That was the source of all my fear. I grew pale at the thought of an existence with absolutely no one to care for me; no one to share my feelings with; no one to simply talk with. I could barely believe that I was suddenly thrust into such a nightmare. My life had never been the best subject for bragging, but at least it was a little better than mediocre only a month or so before that day.

I kept attempting to persuade myself to accept my fate; there wasn’t going to be any way out of it. No matter how hard I begged, no matter how much I cried, no matter how desperate I became, I’d still be stuck in my own personal nightmare. Being accepting of such a matter was rather hard when it had only been thrown at me less than a month before. I barely had time to get used to the idea of living someplace new.

To make it worse, I already had to visit my new school the next day, Monday. Then, when Tuesday rolled around, I would be attending my first day of classes. My stomach lurched at the thought.

Canterlot High School, I wondered how the name even came about. It made me think of some sort of medieval castle. I was sure that most of the attending students shortened it to CHS to hide such an awkward sounding name. To make things better, or perhaps worse depending on the person, their team name was the Wondercolts, the Canterlot Wondercolts. It was one of those names that you would shake your head at silently in disgust.

Of course, by my wishing of time to slow to a crawl, it made the remaining ride fly by in a blur. The day was mockingly bright, warm, and clear, giving my new town a much too cheerful appearance. The parks were overly beautiful and well kempt. Each and every yard was a lush green with colorful splotches of large flowers surrounding the base of the house which was contained within. Instead of feeling impressed from realizing how clean and beautiful my town was, a feeling of dread hung over me instead. It was perfect, much too perfect.

My mother pointed out the high school. I turned and craned my neck around the haphazardly stacked tower of luggage beside me to catch a glimpse. I would love to say that I was surprised by its appearance, both elegant and regal, but I wasn’t at all. It certainly had the air of a castle about it, and even had some form of large glass dome in its center. It was named Canterlot, and the town in which it was located was flawless, of course the school would be some picturesque structure.

With what seemed like a sudden turn, we were parked in the driveway of our house. My parents had already moved in much of the major appliances and furniture, while also making any repairs or modifications while I stayed at home and cherished my final days with my friends. All that was left was what we had in the car and the small, rattling trailer which had been pulled behind it for hundreds of miles.

“And now we unpack!” my mother yelped much too excitedly. I groaned, shook my head, and rolled my eyes, but easily accepted my fate. Unpacking would be the perfect task to keep my mind off of what was to come… that is, as long as the items didn’t spur any memories from my real home.

With what possibly could be considered luck, I grew so busy with aiding in finishing all of the unpacking before days end, my mind became one with the task. I was a thoughtless machine, living out the rest of the day in my own mechanical lie, not thinking of the future or the past. It was oddly comforting, and even though my muscles were strained from lifting overstuffed boxes, they felt more relaxed than they had in a very long time.

Only when the back of my head reached the pillow of my new bed did the concept of future and past return. My heart sunk with the reinstatement of such a realization, and so too did my stomach; my nausea returned tenfold, the pain causing sweat to dampen my forehead as I cringed.

Thoughts of what was to come raced through my mind as I squinted up at the unfamiliar ceiling above while trying to grow somewhat more accustomed to its appearance. I gulped in between thoughts, knowing how long the horrid night would last. With my mind so active, I would be getting little, if any, sleep. I grew even more hopeless at such a thought.

I rolled over onto my side and gazed out of the small window in my room. The warm orange glow of a streetlamp outside illuminated the sidewalk and part of the street. Long shadows were cast into my room from a few trees which stood beside our house. Finally, my eyes fell shut, their lids glowing pink from the light seeping in. As thoughts began to repeat themselves over and over in my mind, the re-occurrence eventually lulled me into the lightest of sleep.