The Grey Mare
"Ow!," Chris shrieked, followed by a loud slam as he was once again shoved into the school lockers. He grasped his throbbing elbow in pain. He was soon grabbed by the collar of his shirt.
"Well, well, well. Look what we have here!" said Chris's attacker in a deep intimidating voice. "If it isn't that gay pony loving trash bag!"
Chris stared down in fear as he was then lifted off the ground. The boy assaulting him was none other than his life long bully. Wilson Deteson. He was just another scrawny kid back in first grade when he first began to pick on Chris, but a lot can happen in ten years. He had a muscular six foot tall frame, and he always wore tank tops. He had short blonde hair and menacing green eyes that Chris had always feared deeply.
Chris had never been one to stick up for himself, and so the bullying kept going, and more and more kids joined in. It had happened any times where he found himself surrounded by those he was hated by, barely managing to get by with just a few bruises.
"W-what do you want now," Chris asked shakily, eyes shut and head turned away as if preparing for a hit. "Want my money? Have it!" he reached a hand into a pant pocket of his khaki's and pulled out a wallet made from black duct tape. On the front; a Dj-pon-3 sticker. He tossed it to the ground hoping it would be enough to put his attacker at ease and maybe he'll leave him be.
Wilson dropped him in order to pick it up, and looked inside. "Huh. Thirty bucks, not bad!" He smiled, seeming somewhat satisfied. He tore the sticker unicorn off the front and shoved the wallet and it's other contents in his pocket. "Now I won't have to hit you as hard!," he said sarcastically.
Chris didn't realize it until he felt a hard fist make a quick ad painful blow to his stomach. The blow had knocked the breath out of him, thus sending him to the floor gasping for air as Wilson finally left him alone. He lay there in pain wondering what he had done to deserve this, when finally the unicorn sticker came to land in front of him. He wanted to cry. He wanted to yell. He wanted to scream, but would anybody care? He's never had friends before, since being bullied made him afraid of everyone around him, making him just another outcast.
Then the all too familiar sound of a bus going by just outside told him he'd have to try and persuade another ride from his father who he never had the best of a relationship with either. He knew it was pointless to even bother since the school was two or three miles from his home, and his father never liked driving much, so asking fora ride wasn't an option.
"Guess I'm walking..."
Chris picked himself up off the white tiled floor, and dusted himself off before leaving.
*****
Like most days, Chris made a quick stop at the gas station to buy a thing or two to snack on, like Cheetos and a bottle of Coca Cola. Sadly he had been mugged of his money and only continued on home. Being April, it was always mostly cloudy out, and most days it rained. Today was no exception as he was about a quarter mile away from home, he found himself caught in a downpour of rain. He lifted the hood on his Addidas hoodie, and slightly quickened his pace. He walked with his pocket in hands, shoes squeaking along the concrete sidewalk as he walked.
Once only a block away from home, Chris saw the red SUV in the driveway signaling his parents were home. He grunted, wishing he could just be along for a change and not have to worry about anything. Hwalked up the porch steps, and quickly checked the time on his watch, s best he could in the rain.
7:24 it read. He was normally home around four. The next task was to check the mail. He did so everyday just out of curiosity since his parents always left his mail in the box. He opened the black squeaky lid where enclosed were tow envelopes. He pulled it out and checked for his name. He quickly found it in the plastic window of the envelope, and was about to open it until he heard the door unlock.
He looked back up to see his mother opening the door. He was three hours late to getting home, and she didn't even look worried.
"Your son is home!" she called out to his father as she opened the magenta colored door for him.
Chris stepped inside, quickly heading for the bathroom to change out of his soiled clothes. He pulled his hood down and looked himself in the mirror. He saw a five foot five inch tall Caucasian boy with a head of black hair, two brown eyed, with a few freckles to decorate his cheeks. He never liked seeing himself. He knew just how pathetic he was, based on what people have told him over the years. And so with a heavy sigh, he removed his wet clothes, and changed into a new dry pair of clothes. He now wore a long sleeve Micheal Jordan shirt and jeans.
The sleeves provided enough cover to hide the scars he had inflicted himself on his never ending life long battle against the world. He was a cutter. It didn't make him feel better when he did, but he only did it in hoped that maybe at some point somebody will notice those scars and take notice to the fact that he is hurt deep within. He prays that some day a hand will reach down to him from the heavens above to pull him to his feet from his knees where he had fallen so long ago. He has waited for ten years now.
He never cut enough to draw blood, but he did just enough to form a small scar, to try and get people's notice. Turns out nobody cares how sad others must feel. He felt there was no help for him as he left the cold bathroom, wishing he could do the same to the irony that followed him in every step he took.
He took retreat into the safety of his room, letting his bag fall with a thump to the carpeted floor. His backpack was a sea of missing work he didn't care to do. What's the point he sometimes wondered. When you're in a world where nobody at all gives a crap about your existence?
He flopped down onto his bed, envelope in hand as he began to tear through it. He pulled out a slip of paper which turned out to just be an invitation advertisement into some high end college which he had no hopes of going into. High school was bad enough. Chris gave another heavy sigh and disposed of the paper in the trash can by the side of his bed. He decided against opening the other one, but somehow his suspense had been peaked and he had a good feeling about this one.
He tore his finger along the top, and pulled out another advertisement. On it were several pictures. A group of people, and people hugging what looked like...ponies? He tilted his head at this and began reading.
Forget all those online 2D and 3D pony creators, when you can have the actual thing! Make a real living and breathing pony! FREE OF CHARGE!! Already hundreds of satisfied customers within just two days of starting!
That caught his attention, but then again, how can that be possible? But then again, why would they mail out 100% fraud advertisements? There was more to it, but it was just people saying how happy they were to have their pony alive and everything. He smiled, had he finally found something good in his life?
At the bottom there was a website he had to go to, and he was quick to boot up his computer. He then opened up internet explorer and typed in the website name, and unfortunately had to do some thorough searching to find it, but he did eventually after about five minutes. As soon as he clicked the link he was brought to a page where he had to sigh up for the site. His hands shook the whole time he did, and once he filled out the needed information.
Next he was taken to an introduction page explaining what their aim was, which had been to provide living oc's to those who wished to have an actual pony. Chris was no exception. He only wanted to get to the pony making part. He had used the one on deviant art many times and the sfm pony creator not as much, but he's made at least a hundred ponies. they were sort of like bill for a law. All were interesting ideas, but just a few he kept as saved files.
The actual pony creating part was far more advanced than any he had ever seen before, what with precise measuring, and dimensions, and the fact he could draw his own mane and tail style. He decided to make his pony an sfm based one, but made it's graphics o look more realistic, but still in the shape of an mlp pony.
After creating his new art work, he submitted his image, and a pop up appeared saying thank you, and his pony will be delivered within 24 hours.
He sure hoped this was legitimate and that by the time 7:30 pm rolls around tomorrow, he'll finally have a friend to look forward to. He thought about how it could even be possible to make a living pony. He honestly didn't care as long as he got to see it.
*****
The next day dragged on slower than usual. Chris found himself taking several tests that day, what with being the end of the quarter. He was pretty sure he failed half of his tests, but he honestly didn't care. He's had nothing to look forward to in his life, and thus he just lay wasting it away.
At breakfast, he was confronted by a small group of bullies who picked on him and tossed him around a bit, but again, he didn't care anymore. He was just eating a simple orange, when they suddenly came up to him and rubbed it all over his face. Like always he just accepted the torment and laughter thrown at him, knowing there was not a thing he could do to stop it.
During class he couldn't even focus. He just wanted to get home to see his pony waiting for him on the porch. He eventually was able to finish his test before class ended for the day, and he moved on to the next hour. He had science next and they had been doing a chemichal lab where you had to put a chemical on a wet q-tip, and hold it over a Bunsen Burner and identify what chemical it was by how the flame looked. At least he wasn't sitting trying to do impossible math problems.
His next two classes were homeroom and study hour where nothing special happened which left lunch to be his next hour. He didn't even bother trying to eat this time. Wilson had always managed to find him and dump his food on his lap, so instead he hid out in the library, until his next hour.
With each passing minute he became more anxious to just get up, run home to his pony. He'd never wanted anything so badly before, let alone wanting to have anything at all! And once the bell rang for school to let out, he ran out the door, only to bump into Wilson again. He didn't want to deal with him right now. Especially right now, but it was too late. He was pinned to the locker again, forced to give up any cash he had, but the thirty bucks he gave the day before was money he's been saving up since he found a twenty on the ground.
Not having the needed cash to consummate Wilson's desires, he took another painful punch, but this time to the nose. Again he missed the bus as he stood in the bathroom trying to get the bleeding to stop. It took about ten minutes and countless paper towels wet with his own blood in the large garbage can. He sighed again as he glanced at himself in the mirror before leaving. He had a swollen nose and one heck of a headache.
Walking two miles home didn't help to ease his pain either, it only made it worse for him. Luckily his parents had left for work. His dad was a delivery person for this place called Muncheez Pizzeria. Hi mom worked there as well, but as an indoor person who washed dishes, cleaned tables, and took out the trash. So, this left Chris home alone for now. He eyed his porch for any large package, sure that ponies wouldn't fit inside little envelopes.
Sadly he saw nothing, but his attention was turned to a blue 2003 Dodge minivan that had pulled into the driveway. Curious, he walked to to a very familiar looking lady. He remembered her from somewhere, but his massive headache didn't help any.
"Chris Haze?" the lady asked. She was about five feet tall, with short brown hair, and green eyes. She appeared to be a bit over weight from her size. She wore a blue sweater and black pants. She held a notepad in her hands that she had been looking at.
"Y-yeah...why?"
The lady said nothing but only tapped her pen on the rear driver side door. What came out just blew Chris's mind.
A grey coated earth pony stepped out. Her eyes were white, and her mane was grey with a white streak through it as well as the tail. She wore a black hoodie, and a shy expression.
"Is this the pony you ordered?" The lady asked.
"Y-yeah.." he replied, unable to remove his eyes from the pony before him.
"Just sign here and she's all yours!" the lady smiled and gave him a white paper which looked like a contract. He didn't bother reading and signed away and with that, the lady left.
Chris sat down on the porch steps a foot away from the small pony who seemed to be around three feet tall. "S-Silver?" He asked.
"Yeah?" she answered a bit awkwardly, in a soft and hushed whisper, looking at the ground.
Chris no longer being able to contain himself, wrapped the pony into a tight hug.
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I am looking forward to future Chapters. Keep the good work up.
First of all you should always proof read before publishing. There are quite a few groups that could help.
Here are a few examples that tend to repeat themselves.
Lazy typing. Should be:
"Chris stared on in fear."
When the action occurs after the dialogue begin with a new sentence.
"''Want my money? Have it!' He reached a hand"
There are few instances of unnecessary commas before 'and'. Should be:
"Chris picked himself up off the white tiled floor and dusted himself off before leaving."
I assume the 'your' in this sentence was a miss typed word and not sudden jump from 3rd to 1st person.
You where so strong with your beginning! What with your excellent descriptions of Chris and his bully. But Your story began to fall a little flat through the middle when you became a little too overzealous. Try not to go overboard. We don't really care what brand of clothing Chris wears or what year the vehicle parked outside was manufactured. Try focus more on the story, who's doing what and why.
You picked up again with that ending though. Nice work.
6632162 thanks man i appreciate the tips :D and those spelling errors are results of my buttons not working. they cut out sometimes where i have to press it four or five times for it to work D: also, i felt a bit like Carl Azuz in the author's note how i made up some puns XD
6632125 thanks :D
I can't wait for more
Nitpick incoming!
While I'll be the first to admit my anatomy is patchy these days, I don't believe that's quite how scars work. Scars {fibrosis} are a bodies direct response to wounds, with the textbook definition of wound being "an injury that is caused when a knife, bullet, etc., cuts or breaks the skin" Simply put, you don't cut/leave scars without drawing blood.
That aside, while the story-concept is interesting, the character {to me} is not. Not that he's a bad character, but the concept of a beaten-down/bullied character looking for some kind of escape is just done to death at this point. Not bad, but def. not for me.
I wish you the best of luck in your writing. Also, while not a glaring issue, an editor wouldn't be amiss; some of the structure feels odd.
Now I'm intrigued. I like it!!
6632533 i carved the word death into my arm once without drawing more than the smallest drops. and thanks for reading :D i hope this becomes more fun for you to read along the way since having Silver is bound to make him happy
6632670 I used to have psychotic lapses as a side effect of a medication a doc once had me on, I was taken off it when, during one of those psychotic lapses, I carved a swastika in the back of my left hand with a geometric compass.
Bled like a bitch, usedan sandpaper to wear the scar off by making more scars. I was thereafter taken off the medication.
I am too lazy to cut myself.
I wonder how many people wish that a service like this was real.
I SURE AS HELL DO!
where'd you find that pic?
6632926
6633011 dont we all? And i looked up grey mlp pony o google and just scrolled through images until i found this one. suu cute
Hello there Person 5! *notices the name* Awww...
6634384 lolol
Wow, untill the end, that was depressing. I mean... wow... good show on the depressing side.
As someone who was a bullied target for 10 years I can put myself in his shoes. But, damn, it was satisfying to face my bullies with a grin that said: Yeah, I'm still breathing, you fucker.
To be honest I actually liked the idea of a Human, having a Pony in his world, and that the pony never had to go back, but this time, I thought it would be one of those storys, where he just woke up as another pony, in a random family in Equestria.
I just really like those storys, where the other ponys think, that the Human turned pony just had lost all his memories. There was actually one, where the Human was suddenly in the hospital, as Diamond Tiaras mother, but the story never finished, and I didn´t found it again.
Why a pony version of himself? cause he likes MLP? Why doesn't he create an OC?. I understand him wanting to escape into his own world and talk to a pony so he can forget his troubles for a bit. Those popped in my head when I reread the plot. At first i thought it said he made a pony. Missed the part where he made a pony version of himself.