What I had and What I Was

by ty500600

Dear god...

Alright, let’s skip the first day of 10th grade cause, really, who cares about that boring stuff. It’s just teachers welcoming us back and giving us syllabuses and what not. Although, we could talk about what I did the night before and what I did that morning. Let’s do that, so rewind about eight hours.

“Good night mom, I’ll see you when I get back from school!” I yell down the stairs.

“Good night Sticks! Too bad Dad had to go to Canterlot for work, and I’m sorry I can’t see you off tomorrow morning, they are calling me in for a long shift tonight,” Mom replied heartily. She was putting on her official work clothing and preparing for a long night at the bar. Being a waitress on half price nights brought in good money but it made her work through long hours of the night. Not that I minded of course.

I shut my door and laid down in bed and pretended to sleep, just in case she decided to check on me before she left. She hadn’t bothered and I heard her jump into a carriage that took her to and from work. After the squealing wheels were out of ear shot, I quickly bolted out of bed and began rummaging through my closet dresser, looking for… ‘it.’ Eventually I had found ‘it’ and I quickly called up my friends.

“So are we on for the night?” I ask excitedly into the phone.

“You know it, do you have ‘it’?” came the reply.

“You know I do! I’ll be over in five.” I hung up with a click. I picked up my sattle bags and draped them over my back, stuffing ‘it’ inside. I peeked my head out around the corner and checked to see if my brothers were asleep, ‘eeyup, they are,’ I thought to myself. I, being a ninja like I am, snuck down the stairs and into the garage. I switched the door over from automatic to manual and pried it open just enough for me and my bike to slip out and then I shut it again, making almost no noise. I jumped on my bike and headed towards my friend’s house. Once I get there, I see a sign that says ‘Bikes in the garage.’ So I wheeled my bike into the garage and parked it. I stepped inside of the house and was greeted by a barrage of “hellos” and “what’s up’s.”

“Fillies and gentle-colts, I have brought…’it’.” I looked at my bag and bit down on the strap that held it shut. It popped open and a nice, chilled thirty pack of Hoofstrong Ale revealed itself. A chorus of cheers followed as I began distributing the beer around to ponies. I dropped my bag and allowed people to go digging through it, taking as they pleased. I pulled two out before the vicious and adolescent ponies took all of them. ‘Vultures,’ I thought to myself. Over in the corner, I saw who the other beer was for. It was a mare I had fancied for some time, “Spirit.” I trotted over to her, dropping it in her lap, the other still in my mouth. “Howth it goig’?” I asked with the can still in my maw.

She looked at me and giggled, “Wha…what did you say, Sticks?” I blushed when she said my name. I dropped the can into my upraised hoof before continuing, trying really hard not to make a fool out of myself any more than I already had.

“Uh…how’s…how’s it going?” I asked sheepishly. I cracked the beer and took a swig, trying to ease the tension building in my body. It worked for a moment until she said something.

“Not too bad, how’s about yourself cutie?” She asked, batting her eye lashes. When she said that, my eyes shot open wide and I inhaled about half of the can’s contents into my lungs. I started spewing and coughing beer all over her. I tried to turn away, but I couldn’t control where it was going. I thought I was going to die, both literally and metaphorically. After my spewing became controlled, she looked like someone had just shot an animal and dropped its bloody corpse on her. Her face twisted with disgust and horror and she bolted for the bathroom, probably trying not to puke. I was assaulted with laughter, and I hung my head low.

“Way to go, dumbass,” I say to myself, taking a small chug of beer.

So that’s how the rest of that night went, I skulked in the corner, hammering beers whenever they came my way, which was, unfortunately, quite often. “Oh, tomorrow is going to suck…”

Which it did. Before heading out to school, I popped three Advil pills and then mounted my bike with less excitement than a manticore eating an already dead animal. My light brown coat was somewhat matted from the puke as was my brown mane, which had changed from blonde I might add. Basically, that day sucked so much ass

Comments

[Noakwolf]

I will read your story. Oh and hi ty, my names Noak. (not really Noak but i dont care about names)

[Rosencranz]

Not bad- I like the prose. It's conversational and flows well- the main character obviously has a strong and interesting "voice." I can't really tell where the plot is going at this point, since it's so early, but thus far your work is engaging and entertaining. My only complaint is the names- they don't seem very , y'know, pony-ish. But hey, they're your characters, call 'em whatever suits you.

[ty500600]

159769 Call me lazy but I suppose I could go back in and change them up some.

[ty500600]

159769 Yeah, I took your advice, everything has pony names now

[Rosencranz]

Yay! Glad I could be helpful

Edit: Just saw you named the one who liked Vinyl Scratch "Drop." I am highly amused.

[Zervziel]

“Good night Sticks! Too bad Dad, had to go to Canterlot for work, and I’m sorry I can’t see you off tomorrow morning, they are calling me in for a long shift tonight,”

A pony's life sucking ass. Interpret that as you will. I know I did.