Dealing with some sort of depression and whatnot, I've decided to just take it small for now. I'm going to record my writings here until I have a complete story. I have an idea that I won't talk much about for now, but I'll record my progress here. I pledge to write at least 100 words a day.

8/22/2015: 122 words
8/23/2015: 156 words (278 total)
8/24/2015: 0 words
8/25/2015: 952 words (1230 total)

There's my progress so far. I honestly feel doubtful that I can finish it, but I know that I will not succeed if I don't try. So that's what I'm going to do: try. It's all I can promise.

Yay, you're writing again!

Small is still something. And trying is better than not trying at all. I consider it an accomplishment, so don't feel bad even if you don't finish it, because you'll still get to a place you weren't before.

4666806 Thank you, sir! (Or Madam, in care you're female)

Today, I managed 523 words, bringing my total up to 1,753 words. My second protagonist is about to deal with the Cutie Mark Crusaders, and I'm not sure if they'll fight her or simply yell at her.

How goes the words? Maybe you can write both and see which one you like better/fits with the story?

4669130 August 27th, 2015: 890 words (2,643 total).
Beginning today with 377 words (3,020 total so far)

I didn't write both; I stuck with not fighting for now. And just so you and other people don't feel as bad about your drafts, here's my abominable draft, in its 3,020-word infamy:

It was almost 3:00, and Cherilee had decided that she needed a smoke after class. Hour after hour of staring into the vacant eyes of those just slightly younger than herself, watching as they tried to concentrate on what the teacher was saying, or not trying at all and went on with either sleeping, or texting, or chatting with friends around them. Hour after hour of being the dutiful helper to people that never appreciated her help in the first place. It was at times like these that she seriously reconsidered her role in life.
Cherilee, like a good portion of high school students, aspired to be a teacher when she finished school. She was sure that this was her true calling. She had decided to teach high school students, because teaching anything younger would seem like a hassle for her. Become friends with the more mature high schoolers, put some real talk on them, and genuinely have a good time. That was what she had pictured for her life.
But it wasn’t there. No one wanted to be hip friends with a teacher, or a teacher’s assistant, for that matter. Everyone was too interested in themselves. She also found out, something she should’ve known from recently being a teenager, that kids of this age were obstinate when it came to receiving advice. They were even less interested in learning anything at all; they were far more interested in keeping with the latest pop news. And she was too young to properly banter with the older teachers, so she was relegated to a life of being too old for the cool crowd, and too young for the staff.
So here she was, watching as her professor lectured fruitlessly—whether he was aware of it or not, she wasn’t sure—and watching the students begin putting things into their backpacks. Her attention fell on three students in particular: The So-called Cutie-Mark Crusaders, three rapscallion ladies that always seemed to get into trouble. Every day, she would witness something they would do or try that would end in disaster, and she would sit back in frustration while she watched them clean up and, on few occasions, had to explain what had happened to her higher-ups. Eventually, her annoyance turned into disdain towards these three.
Finally, the school bell rang, and everyone got up to race out of the classroom into normal life. Cherilee wanted oh-so-badly for them to hurry up so she could get out as well, have her smoke and be done for the day. As she put away her clipboard into her shoulderbag, she heard a crash. Everyone looked over to see Sweetie Belle had fallen out of her chair. Some students sniggered to themselves, while a few openly laughed at her. The other two Crusaders tried pulling her up, to some rather clumsy results. One of the tables had broken during the process.
Cherilee groaned. She would have to deal with this. “Alright, everyone,” she said in an authoritarian voice. “Move it along, get out of here.” Everyone began filing out. “Except,” she added with a sigh. “You three.”
The three girls in question looked at her with mixed emotions: Apple Bloom with worry, Sweetie Belle with fear, and Scootaloo with annoyance. The latter asked briskly, “what now, Cherilee? It was an accident, you saw it.”
“That’s Miss Cherilee to you,” she clarified briskly. “And in case you haven’t noticed, you broke one of our tables.”
They all looked at it, and then at each other, and finally at Sweetie Belle. She looked down at the ground submissively. “I’m sorry.”
“What were you even doing?” Cherilee admonished. “How could you break a desk like that?”
“Well—“
“I’ll tell you,” she continued. “You were being reckless, as usual, and you just knocked it over.”
Sweetie Belle wilted under Cherilee’s authoritarian gaze.
“Geez,” Scootaloo groaned. “Why do you have to be such a bitch, Cherilee?”
This was one of the many things she had actually prepared for when she took her own class. She took a deep breath, confident in her superior authority, and began.
“First,” she said in a level tone, “it’s Miss Cherilee.”
“Okay, whatever—“
“Second,” she continued, “I wouldn’t have to be such a bitch if you girls would just behave yourselves like normal young ladies.”
Apple Bloom spoke up for the first time. “But we do act like proper ladies.”
“Oh, really?” Cherilee waved to the desk. “Do young ladies break desks?”
It took a while for an answer to emerge. “Well, no—“
“Do young ladies make terrible songs?” At the mention of this, the three wilted. “Do young ladies impersonate barbers? Or start a scandalous newspaper? Or search for outlaws?”
Scootaloo had had enough. She got in Cherilee’s face. “So what if we did all of that? We don’t need to be proper young ladies anyway!”
Cherilee smirked. “But you do need to behave. And you ladies don’t behave.” She pointed once more to the desk. “See?”
Sweetie Belle was quietly sobbing. Cherilee resisted the urge to comfort her; she had to have a strong demeanor if she were to be taken seriously.
“You three will have to pay for a new desk,” Cherilee said in a level tone. “I will be informing Principal Celestia about this fiasco, and I will be writing another note to your parents.”
The three groaned.
“Be thankful you don’t get a detention from this.” Cherilee knew that, rather than sparing them a punishment, she was sparing herself the trouble of looking after the three for another hour. She really wanted her smoke. “Now leave.” With that, she began cleaning up the broken desk. She listened to the Crusaders shuffling out of the room.
Almost instantly, Mr. Armor walked over and helped her with the desk. “Thank you, Cherilee. I don’t know what happened.”
Cherilee merely shook her head. “It’s just students being careless.”
Mr. Shining Armor laughed while shaking his head. “Looks like they were more anxious than I thought they would be.” He waved her away. “Go on home, Cherilee. I’ll take care of this.”
With a relieved sigh, she stood up and made her way out of the room. “Thanks, Mr. Armor. See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow!”
It took five minutes for her to make it to the school’s rooftop, where a few students were hanging out smoking. Immediately upon arriving there, they all threw their butts over the railing and onto the ground below (luckily it was asphalt below, and no one was there) and skulked off. She adored that authority, and walked over to a ledge. With shaky hands, she took out a cigarette and a match, and in a matter of seconds she was puffing away.
As she felt her nerves settle, she thought back to the girls. She had a brief moment where she thought she was being harsh on them; she could’ve been more sympathetic to them, listened to them instead of scolding them. But then her years of training kicked in. She had to be dominant, rule with an iron fist. The girls had been reckless, and they were going to be punished for it. It was all for their best interest, she told herself.
The paperwork would be a bitch, though. She wasn’t looking forward to that. She took out another cigarette and wiled the time away.

With wobbly steps, Cherilee walked down the school hallway.
No, seriously, she had a very hard time keeping her balance. She would sway one way, and sway the other, and then teeter into balance before swaying all over again. The students that had lingered behind in the rush to leave watched her, at first perplexed, and then amused.
And, unexpected by everyone there, she didn’t leer at them or scold them. She merely smiled at them—she knew she must’ve looked silly—and continued on. After a few more successful steps, she rested against a school bench.
“Geez,” she breathed to herself. “I guess the human bone structure is different. I should’ve practiced more.”
“Cherilee? Are you alright?”
She looked up to see the school principal, Celestia, looking down at her with a bemused expression. She quickly bolted erect, and smiled as widely and politely as she could. “Yes, your majesty, I’m quite myself. How are you doing?”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Your majesty? Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” She leaned forward. “Have you imbibed any substances?” she asked with a whiff.
“Of course not!” Cherilee rubbed her hands together. “I just, er, came back from the theater, and I’m still, you know, in that mindset?” She recoiled an inch.
To her relief, Celestia laughed. “Yes, Shakespeare will to that to you.” Celestia turned back into her office. “Well, have a good rest of your day.”
“You have a blessed day, Princessssssssssipal Celestia!” With that, Cherilee continued on her way.
“That was close,” she said to herself. “I’ll have to remember Shakespeare, and not trip up with Princessipal Celestia.” She chuckled. “I’m still doing it.”
“Now where are the girls?”
She spotted a girl shuffling in her locker. Taking a few seconds to look at her, she smiled and approached her. “Hello, Twist.”
The teenager squeaked and whirled around. “Oh, hi Miss Cherilee.”
“Have you seen Apple Bloom around, by any chance?”
She noticed Twist recede into herself. “They’re in the girl’s room. But I wouldn’t go in there if I were you. You, uh, kinda hurt their feelings pretty badly.”
Cherilee grimaced. “Oh… I see. Thank you, Twist.” She walked away from the confused girl and looked around for the restrooms. With some directing from Mr. Cake, who was there to pick up Pinkie Pie, she found her way there. She was hesitant to go in at first, but after seeing a lady walk out of one of them, she stepped inside that same one.
Upon stepping in, she immediately stopped and listened. The immediate sounds of retching could be heard. Oh goddesses, what did I do?
“Stop, Sweetie Belle,” she heard Apple Bloom’s distinct, yet somehow more mature voice say. “This isn’t helping. This isn’t even how you lose weight.”
“You don’t even need to lose weight,” Scootaloo added. “That bitch Cherilee needs to just back off. You saw it was an accident; your weight didn’t break it, you’re fine!”
Still more retching, and it wrenched at Cherilee’s heart. Looks like I have some explaining to do. Well, better now than never. With a deep breath, she rounded the corner.
There they were, two teenage girls that could have been none other than Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. The former had her head pressed against the door of the stall, peering into the small crack at who Cherilee guessed was Sweetie Belle still retching. The latter was leaning back against the opposite wall, with her arms crossed and her eyes right on the door. No one had apparently noticed her enter.
She had no thought of leaving, though; something was wrong, and it needed to be dealt with.
“Hello, girls,” she said as gently as she could.
The two of them turned around and looked at her. Apple Bloom merely wilted, but Scootaloo scowled. “What do you want,” she barked.
For a moment, she didn’t answer. She waited to see how the scene would play out. She heard one more round of retching, and then sobbing. With a deep nasal breath, she stepped towards the stall.
“Sweetie Belle? Honey, are you okay?”
The two teenagers looked at each other, and then Scootaloo hopped off the wall. “What do you care? She’s in there because of you!”
Cherilee stared at her for a moment, and then returned her attention to the door. “Come on out, Sweetie Belle. Let me take a look at you.”
“Don’t listen to her!” Scootaloo moved between her and the door. “You don’t have to do anything she says.”
“I just want to help.”
“Haven’t you done enough?” Apple Bloom asked, grimacing.
With a deep breath, Cherilee nodded. “Yes. And now I’m here to make it right.”
The two girls blinked. They were about to say something to her, but then the door to the stall opened, and out came Sweetie Belle. The dear sniffled, and had tear streaks down her face. She was heaving, and staggering out. Her face was paler than usual, and there were trails of spit along her chin.
“Oh my stars,” Cherilee said softly. “You poor dear.” She reached out to Sweetie Belle. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She wilted.
“It’s okay,” Cherilee said encouragingly. “I won’t hurt you.”
“It’s too late for that,” Scootaloo grumbled. “Why don’t you go fuck off before I make you fuck off.”
“Scootaloo, no,” Sweetie Belle mewled. “You’ll just get us in more trouble.”
“I don’t care!” Scootaloo yelled. “I don’t understand why she doesn’t like us!”
At this, Cherilee took a deep breath. “I don’t hate you, Scootaloo. I don’t hate any of you.” She sighed. “Whatever happened today… I was wrong to do so.”
Scootaloo raised a brow. “What do you mean, ‘whatever happened today’? Don’t play it off like you don’t remember!”
Cherilee nodded. Okay. What I did was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it. It was unfair to you girls for me to do it. I’m sorry.”
The three girls were taken aback. Scootaloo staggered backwards, Apple Bloom hit the stall, and Sweetie Belle flinched. They all looked at each other, and the Scootaloo took a step towards her.
“What are you getting at?”
“I told you,” Cherilee said softly. “I’m making this right.” She once again reached her hand out to Sweetie Belle.
The girl at first hesitated, and then reached a hand out to the much older woman. With a soft smile, Cherilee led her to the nearest sink, grabbed a paper towel, wet it, and began dabbing at her face.
“There we go,” she whispered. “You’ll be pretty in no time.” Another dab cleared the tear marks. “Are you sick?”
“No, she isn’t,” Scootaloo groaned. “She thinks she’s fat, and that’s why she broke the desk.”
Cherilee gasped. “Not at all! You’re perfectly healthy, Sweetie Belle. You don’t need to be bulimic! That’ll just lead to health problems.”
“B-but I broke the desk—“
“Honey,” she said with a firm hand on her cheek. “It’s just a desk. It’s replaceable. You aren’t.”
Sweetie Belle stared at the ground, but the teacher-in-training saw a tiny smile on her face. “There we go,” Cherilee said. “All better now.”
Scootaloo scratched her head. “What the hell? Have you taken some meds? You’re not acting like yourself at all!”
“Oh, no,” Cherilee said, brushing Sweetie Belle’s hair back. “I’ve just come to a realization. That’s all. Why don’t I take you girls out for something to eat? You look like you need it.”
This perplexed all three of them. Sweetie Belle clutched at her stomach, Apple Bloom shrugged her shoulders, and Scootaloo scratched her head some more. Cherilee was about to lead the way, but her legs gave way under her, and she had to catch herself on the sink. “Darnit,” she said with a grunt and a chuckle. “I still need to get used to these legs.”
“Okay, so you’re drunk.” Scootaloo groaned. “We’re dealing with a drunk teacher’s assistant.”
Cherille straightened herself. “Not drunk, no. Just not used to walking on two legs.”
The three gaped. “Huh?”
“And it’s not ‘teacher’s assistant,’” she continued. “It’s teacher.”
“Pfft,” Scootaloo said. “Yeah, right.”
“No, really,” she said, pulling out a photograph. “Here are some of my students.”
Scootaloo grabbed it and looked, at first irritated, and then shocked, and then scrutinizing. Finally, she settled with being excited. “Guys? You need to take a look at this.”
The other girls clammered around the photograph, and gasped. Cherilee waited for the shock to wear off before interacting. For within the picture were four hourse—ponies, to be exact. One was a mare, with magenta fur, and next to her were three fillies. One yellow, one white, and one orange.
This settled it for them. They looked at her, and then at the photograph, and then back at her.
“No way,” Apple Bloom stammered.
“I’mpossible,” Scootaloo gasped.
“You’re that Cherilee?” Sweetie Belle squeaked. “Pony Cherilee?”
Cherilee attempted to bow, only to fall on her hands. “that’s better. Yes, I aam purebred Equestrian Cherilee.”
Immediately the three girls leapt onto her.
“Oh, my gosh, this is so awesome!”: Scottaloo yelled. “Scootaloo the pony’s told me so much about you!”
“You’re like the nicest teacher ever!” Apple Bloom yelled.
“What’re you doing here?” Sweetie Belle yelled.
Girls, girls,” Cherilee stammered, tryin and failing to get back on two legs. “Enough, please. I’m still not used to it.” Immediately, thee trio helped her stand upright. “Thank you. And I’m here because you girls have been having problems with Cherilee. Is that right?”
The three girls looked at each other. “N-not, you, Cherilee!”
“I know, Apple Bloom,” Cherilee added. “I mean your Cherilee.” The downcast looks said enough. “I’m here to see if I can offer some guidance.”
Sweetie Belle beamed. “Yeah! You can talk to her!”
“See what’s wrong with her!” Apple Bloom added.
“I don’t know,” Scootaloo added. “She’s pretty distant, doesn’t listen to anybody anymore. She used to be cool, but then, I dunno, something happened.”
“Well, it’s up to me to find out what.” Cherilee walked to the door. “Would any of you know where she is, by any chance?”
The three shrugged.
“Do you at least know where she lives?”
They nodded.
“Lovely. Let’s start there—“
Before she could leave, though, they began bpombarding her with questions.
“What’s Equestria like?”
“What do you do there?”
“Is Sweetie Belle married?”
“What does Rarity do?”
“Will we ever move out of our parents’ house?”
“Gilrls, girls!” Cherilee laughed. “All in due time—“
“Yeah!” Scootaloo sped past her. “You can tell us all about it in the car!”
“Yeah! To the CMCMC!”
“The huh?”
“The Cutie Mark Crusaders Mini Cooper!” With that, she was shuffled out of the restroom by three very excited girls.

Have fun, y'all!

28 August, 2015: 130 words (3,150 total)

Added some fluff, but videogames distracted me. I need to cut them out far more than I have.

29 August, 2015: 132 words.

30 August, 2015: 227 words (3,509 total)

I'm done with the beginning snack. From here on out, it's the meat and potatoes of the middle for me. Let's see if I can stick it out.

4676747
Would you like me to tell you what I think so far? Or would you rather I wait for the whole story? Or if you don't want me to say anything, I can do that too (if you're just posting to keep accounts for yourself)

4677875 Your opinion would be appreciated, if you don't mind my sending it via PM