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Chapter 1: The Day I Died

Author's note: I wrote this part when I was very depressed, so that will probably be reflected in my writing. Don't worry, my dark sense of humor will still be here (mostly in dialogue) and yes, I did steal the name of my character from "Birds of a Feather". Enjoy.


Same shit, different day.

That's what they all say.

I used to think that I had a purpose in life when I was little. I felt like one day I would save the world or save someone special. I was wrong. I am 21 years old and I have never found that purpose, hell, I've never even had a steady girlfriend before. I could never bring myself to trust anyone. I've seen what humanity's dark side looks like and when you've seen it for as long as I have, you can't see anything good anymore. Everything I look at now has a hidden agenda.

Santa? A ploy to steal your cash.

A baby? Another whiny mouth to feed.

A girlfriend? A monster that will pretend to love you, only to steal everything once you marry.

Everything I look at is evil to me and no matter how hard I try, I can't see it any other way. My distrust has held me back from human contact which led to another problem; loneliness. I spend every night alone in my shitty one bedroom apartment. Every night is the same retinue; get home from my shitty job, watch TV, and drink myself to sleep. This is the way it is and this is the way it will always be.

My name is Ryan Laney and this is the story of my death and what lay beyond it.


Another shitty day at the office. My job wasn't overly exciting and was utterly pointless. Just another time sink between the cradle and the grave. The night hung heavy overhead as I closed the car door and began the 3 story climb to my apartment. I felt as lifeless as the white walls that lined the hallway to my door. I walked slowly as my steel-toed boots clicked on the tile floor. I could hear through the thin walls that many people were having a normal evening. I could hear the gunshots and explosions of apartment to my left as well as a wave of insults being yelled at the TV. I continued walking before I heard in an apartment to my left, a family saying grace over their meal. My boots continued to click against the floor when I past one last apartment to the left and from the sound of it, things were getting hot and heavy between the tenets.

Finally arriving at my door, I grabbed my keys from my pocket and fumbled for the correct one. After finding the correct key, I slid the key home and released the deadbolt with a gratifying thud. I grabbed the knob and pushed the door open and shut it behind me. I sighed in the mud room as I looked upon my bland apartment. White walls, as bland as the day I moved in, lined the floor plan of the tenement. I walked into the living room and removed my leather jacket, revealing my brown polo shirt and holster under my shoulder. If you spent you life living in the shit hole city of Youngstown, Ohio, you'd invest the time and money in a gun too. In the holster sat a matte black M1911A1 military surplus, a favorite of mine. I pulled the gun from its holster and held it in my hands. Various scratches lined the slide as well as the tally marks I had put there. Five tallies lined the slide, just above the safety, and each one was some stupid punk who though he could just mug me with some little shiv and get away with it. I've honestly lose track of how many gunshots I heard each night.

I returned the M1911 to its holster and walked into the bathroom. I flicked on the lights and watched as a few roaches scurried away from the light. I walked up to the vanity and removed my white Kangol hat, placing it on the vanity just behind the sink. I ran my hands through my hair and slammed them on the vanity, nearly shattering the ceramic sink. With my eyes locked on the floor, I peeled them away from my feet and locked eyes with the creature staring back at me in the mirror. The creature was a white unicorn/pegasus (I have no idea what the correct term is) I had seen many times before. The creature had named itself 'Celestia' and claimed to be ruler of a far off land of Equestria. I was damned sure that it was only a figment of my imagination since no matter how much I tried to find reference of the creature on the net, I found nothing but a child's show.

"Come to mock me again?" I said my gruff voice.

'Celestia' stare at me for a moment as if trying to determine if I was worth her time "No, I'm trying to help you."

The creatures voice was very refined as she spoke but all I could do was laugh in her face.

"Is something funny?" Celestia asked as though she didn't know.

I cut off my laugh and locked eyes again "We do this every night. You realize how insane this is right? I'm talking to a cartoon horse!"

"Show some respect!" She commanded in a smooth voice "I'm trying to help you!"

I pulled the 1911 from the holster and slapped it down on the vanity "Help me how?! Tell me that life is worth living? To show me false happiness that exists in your world? Bullshit! All of it!"

Celestia narrowed her gaze as if trying to give me a 'death stare' "Life is worth living!"

"I beg to differ! Have you seen what I've lived through, have you seen what I've seen, have you seen me killed the muggers that still lay heavily on my soul?" I watched a a tear ran down her eye "I didn't fucking think so! Don't you dare tell me that life is worth living in this shitty reality. Hell honestly sounds like a better option than living the same shit day in and day out! At least there I'll have some FUCKING closure because all I'll end up doing in this god-damn life is fucking waiting for either my own hand or someone else's to end me."

Celestia stood there in the mirror crying at this point, begging "Don't do it! You're better than that!"

I could feel my fist balling up at this point and anger begin to flood my eyes.

"There is so much more to your life than you think!"

I exploded "SHUT THE FUCK UP!!"

I took my fist and punched the mirror as hard as I possible could, shattering it and sending my fist into the dry wall behind it. Thankfully my black finger-less gloves kept me from cutting my hand. I retracted my fist from the wall and let it hang at my side. I looked back at the now shattered mirror only to see the reflection of a broken man. I brought my hand to my face and ran it along the scar that ran from my right eye to the bottom of my chin. Another drunken memory.

I grabbed the 1911 from the vanity and held it at my side. I exhaled and walked into the kitchen. The kitchen was just large enough to move in, let alone cook in. I walked up to my plain white fridge and opened it. The entirety of the contents consisted of rotten KFC and various liquor. I selected the finest whiskey in the fridge and walked back into the bathroom. I grabbed my hat from the vanity and sat on the crapper. I didn't even have to go to the bathroom but I figured that this was the quietest place in my apartment. I cracked open the bottle and guzzled a large chunk of it, not even letting it hit my tongue. I sat there for a moment before I hear some mumbling from a vanity drawer. I laughed, opened the drawer, and removed a small personal mirror, a reminder of my last one night stand.

"That was uncalled for!" Celestia barked at me from the small mirror.

"Quiet or I'll put you back in the drawer." I said before taking another large drink from the bottle.

"Drinking won't solve your problems." She said as if she could change my mind.

"Maybe, maybe not but it sure does help." I said before setting the bottle down and retrieving the 1911.

"What do you need that for?" She ask as if puzzled.

"You know what I'm gona do? I'm gona polish this bottle off and end this nightmare." I said before pulling the slide back and letting it fall forward with a metallic thud. I watched as her eyes flew wide with terror "I'm done wallowing in sadness and depression. I'm going to let Mr.45 take my problems away."

"I will not let you do such a thing!" She said in a furious tone.

"Stop me then. OH WAIT, you're a goddamn reflection in a mirror! Try me!" I said throwing my arms out wide.

"I will not let you do this! How dare you even think of such a thing-" I raised the semiautomatic at the mirror "This is wrong and you know it-"


The empty round from the handgun bounced off the bathtub and landed on the floor in front of me "That takes care of that."

I looked at the bottle of booze that I held in my hand and saw that it was almost done with. I took the final swig and threw the bottle into the tub. I got up from the think tank and walked back into my bedroom. It was mostly bare except for the large queen size bed and TV in the corner. I walked to the closet and opened the door. On the door was and empty mirror stared back at me. I gave a small laugh and walked into the closet. I grabbed a small shoe box and retrieved a few things from it, a Zippo that belonged to my father, a locket from my mother, and a box of .45s. I put the heart shaped locket on and grabbed the lighter/bullets. I sat down on the edge of the bed and set the 1911 on my lap and retrieved empty magazines from their spot on the holster. I opened the box of ammo and slid each round home into the magazines.

I returned the magazines to their respected spots and held the 1911 in my hands, running my finger along every scratch on the slide.

"You're really going to do it aren't you?"

I laughed and turned my attention to the mirror in my closet, which had the door still hanging open.

"You're persistent aren't you? It's been a long run but in the end, I lost the game of life."

"You know I can't let you do this." She said with a look of determination on her face.

"Try to stop me." I said as I raised the handgun to the side of my head.

I sat there for a moment, letting the cool, metal barrel of the 1911 rest on the side of my head.

"Luna, we have to stop him! He's going to do it!" Celestia yelled to an unseen figure.

I laughed, raised a middle finger, and pulled the trigger.

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