This, dear friends, is a prompt perfectly suited for all kinds of edgy, yet unspeakeable things. No, not gonna speak about that torture idea that just came up in my mind. Nope.

Anyway, without further ado, let us unravel the mystery... I can feel your fear, as you crawl on the floor, wailing, powerless in front of the pain you're gonna suffer !

Aye, I know, dreadful, right ? Being lost is a common thing in modern society. Be it at school, in life, or even in your fridge (of evil), there are many moments where you can only look to your friends, your family, your loved one, for help. And sometimes... well... you're just alone. Anyway, it's just a prompt. Do with it what you want ! I'll be watching.

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If I remember the rules right, we can whipe something up in the comments right?

4656673 That's right. In fact, it was normally designed to just be comments stuff, but since people did loads of short stories, we do both now.

4656673

Of course. Go ahead.

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4656676
Great! Here goes nothing:

It's dark

It's cold

It's confusing

What is this weird place, where I have ended up?Where is the exit, to the room without exits, where I am now trapped?

I'm so lost, and have been all my life, trapped in thus chaimber without exit, and without chances to escape...

Because I know they're is now way

In

Nore

Out

There is no escaoe, from this chamber haunted by dreadful ghosts that whisper my name. Ghosts that tell me stpries, of what the real world outside this world look like.

A I will never see, because I just can't escape.

I have walked around this room, and felt with my hooves on every centimeter of the cold, stone hard walls. I've banged my head against ever corner of the low ceiling, and I have been knocking on every bit of the floor as well.

Yet, I find nothing. No escaoe, no light, no hope no nothing. I am nothing, and will never be anything unless I escape

Which I won't

You know, I've never seen the room, which have become, my prison and my home. Yet i know, how it all looks in here, in my chaimber of regret.

I know how it looks in my mind behind blinded eyes, and I wish bothing but one thin, justone single thing Idream of every night:

Escaping the prison of darkness. Thewhere even the most innocent is made guilty of something they never asked for, nore deserved.

and once that guilt is yours, you're forever LOST

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Aye like it. Could be a good start for a story about a locked pony into a room going insane crazy and remembering his old life.

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Thanks. I was playing with the idea in this short bit that it's actually just how a pony that goes blind in an accident feel, but yeah its a good idea...

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I probably won't do this since it'd be awfully ridiculous and unreasonable to ask someone to read this for a weekly contest, but if someone theoretically had an already existent story that very much dwells on this theme (but is also considerably long to boot), it couldn't be entered, could it? Again, I probably won't, but I just thought I'd ask.

4657044

If you already have a story that fits reasonnably well to the prompt, you can post a link to it, no problem. Also, a lot of people actually read those, so trust me, it's perfectly fine to enter it.

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OK, thanks, I'll do that. Whoever's judging, just get to what you can, I know it's quite long already. Thanks again!

Batmare Begins

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"Lost. All of them are just so utterly lost. I guess that's why they're all hidding inside the padded walls, not daring to come outside to play.

"If only I could tell them about the way that the world really is. They wouldn't understand it, though. They're all trapped inside their delusions. Absolutely lost...

"At least I'm the free one among us. The only one willing to play outside the walls..."

The door in the walls opened and a frightened head peaked out. "Pinkamena Diane Pie, are you talking to yourself, again?"

"It's okay, lost one, you may come out of the hiding now. Come outside to play with me."

"Don't get any bright ideas again or I'll have to use the taser, again. I'm just here to bring you hay. I don't want to spend more time in this padded room than I have to."

"Hi-hi. You called the outside 'a room', you silly-willy."

4656666 I did a thing. http://www.fimfiction.net/story/285742/lost Thanks for the prompt, it kicked me right in the ass and made me get writing. : D

hello, just asking if we send our stories here? Or wait for the folder to be put up?

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Just copy past your text here if it's short, otherwise publish it and put the link in here. It will be added to the folders in time.

4656666

Well damn.

I feel like trolling this prompt and doing it super literally, with an EqG/Lost crossover

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Heh, as long as it gives you a blossom of ideas, go ahead !

Here's mine.
It's getting more and more difficult to keep up...
This one is a bit outside my comfort zone, so any advice/comments would be much appreciated.

The Little Foal That Wasn't There

Edit: approved.

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My friends and I have become lost.
My friends and I are now lost.
My friends and I are lost.
We have become lost.
We are now lost.
We are lost.
I am lost
Lost.

What does it mean to be lost?
Can you know where you are and be lost?
I know where I am. I am in the lost.
The lostlessness of being nowhere.
Was I supposed to be somewhere?
And if I am to go, go where?
Where am I?

If I don't know where I am now, I don't think I should move.
If I move, I won't know where I'm going, just where I have been.
I guess that's what life is like. You don't know where you're going.
I only know that I am lost.

If there were others, there aren't anymore. I'm sorry, they are gone.
Gone to a better place, a place where there is no lost.
They have become found, in death we are all found.
Do I blame myself?
I can't blame myself for helping them become found.
I can only congratulate myself for being brave enough to help them.

I am like the baker who congratulates herself on turning lumps of dough into something more. She finds a deeper meaning in the bread.
I congratulate myself on having the hooves that turned the lumps of meat into something more. I found in my friends a deeper meaning than 'pony'.

It's not art. It's being found.
Because I am lost.
And if a clamp holds my mane, I am right for cutting the mane of passersby, so they may not suffer the same fate.
And if I lose my hand to a tragic accident, I am right for informing, and helping those foolish enough to make the same mistake.
And if I lose myself? Then I am right for helping other's find themselves. Even if it is in death.

Oops, day late for locking this one. I thought Edgy would have done it for me.

There ain't no rest for the HapHazred!