Fish has picked on the weak and the different in order to keep himself safe. Things begin to change.
Fish has picked on others in order to keep himself from being picked on. He soon discovers his love for painting, which is seen as weak by others. He thinks he is the only one, until he finds another just like himself. This other pony is like the ones he has been bullying all his life. A chain reaction beginning with a common interest between two ponies is started which leads to Fish rethinking his life and his journey through his personal hell.
Fishbone was born in a small not so quite town near the ocean. Fish's coat was blue like water and his mane was red like the trees that surrounded his town.
He loved to fly and explore. He went to school and made great friends. Fish was smaller than the other ponies but he could still keep up. Fish and his friends would go fly everyday. Sometimes they would race for fun. He was sure nothing would change. Everything in his life was going great and he was happy.
Then he moved.
Like a flower being torn out of the ground he and his family were whisked off to a new place full of mountains and snow. He was scared, but did not think that this new place would be that bad.
His new school was the complete opposite of his old school. Everypony was mean and didnt trust him. He would try to hang out with them but they liked different things and he became and outcast. They would pick on Fish for his differences. He made friends that helped make school easier but it didn't stop the teasing and the pain. 3 years passed and just as he thought he couldn't take it anymore...
He moved, again.
His family traveled to a new town in the mountains not to far away from where he had been before. This was a fresh start for Fish and he was determined to be happy again. At his new school he watched the others. Figured out who were the ones who were the least picked on and began to change.
This group would pick on other ponies and everypony left them alone. Fish began to cut off peices of his personality like a puzzle peice so he could fit in with the other ponies. It worked and Fish was happy. As the years went on Fish became one of them. He listened to the same music as them, he hung out with them, he did whatever they did.
Soon he didnt have to fake being one of them anymore. He had become just like them in every way. Everyone loved him and no one outside of his group could pick on him. The other pones became background noise to Fish.
He hated anyone who wasn't like him. The ponies that were weird and different were his targets. Ponies that liked to read and write were very uncommon. The ones who showed creativity or any type were bullied and harrased. They would attack the others with words, sharp like knives. He knew he was hurting them, but he didn't care as long as it wasn't him.
For 7 years this had gone on and Fish didn't see anything wrong with what he was doing and he was happy. He had found a group of friends that accepted him for what he had become. He was happy and he thought nothing could change that.
Fish's second year of high school was going good. He had hard classes but it wasn't anything that he couldn't handle. He had good friends that always had his back and he felt good about life.
One night he made a discovery. He was laying awake unable to sleep. Fish decided to try something. He took out a peice of paper and pen and began to draw.
He didn't expect it to last long.
But he loved it. Anything that came to his mind he put on paper. He sat there for a while staring at the mess of images that were in front of it. He felt great but he was also scared. This was unheard for a colt of his age. Drawing was something that little girls did, not him.
He lay awake the rest of the night.
The next day he began to see things differently. There were colors and ponies he had never noticed before. He thought about telling his friends about what he had found but decided not to. Part of him wanted to keep quiet and not say anything, the other wanted to yell that he loved to draw. Fish didn't want to be picked on and cast out of his group so he shut his mouth and went on with his week.
Every night he would draw something different. He soon began to paint. Fish was convinced that he was sick and that there was something wrong with him.
At school Fish would look for other colts who liked to paint. He saw others who proudly carried brushes with them. He wouldnt talk to him because they were older then him and he knew what would happen if one of his friends saw him talking to them.
Months went on and Fish hid his new found passion beneath his shell where it would never be seen. He had to learn to control himself for his own good.
Fish was well into his second year of high school and he was more scared then ever.
It was getting close to christmas and Fish was sitting in his language class when he noticed something. A colt named Pyrails (which is "of fire" in greek) entered the room holding a brush. Pyrails was a pony that Fish and his friends had picked on for years. He had two classes with him athletics class and the one he was in right now. Fish knew what that brush ment and was unable to control himself.
"Your paint brush! I know what you are! Im just like you." Fish yelled.
Pyrails was startled by Fish's sudden outburst. "No you don't" answered Pyrails quitely.
Fish accepted him to doubt that he was an artist. "Trust me Pyrails, I do." Fish locked eyes with him to show he was telling the truth.
The other ponies looked at Fish with confused looks and asked him what he was talking about. He just shruged them off. He was so happy that he couldn't focus on what his teacher was saying the entire class period.
After class had ended Pyrails approached Fish "So you are an artist also?"
Fish did everything in his power to stop himself from hugging him. "Yep, sure am. I paint every night." responded Fish.
Fish wasnt going to risk being seen with this awkward pony and took off before they could continue there conversation.
Some days later Fish was walking home after school and listening to music. Out of his eye he spotted Pyrails hoping over the creek towards him.
"Hey Pyrails, whats up?" Fish said.
"Just walking home" responded Pyrails. Both of them were thinking the same thing and immediatly started talking about art. Fish was so happy to finally talk about art with another pony his age. On Fish's walk home the talked about everything painting. Half way through the walk Pyrails said something that made him feel sick.
"So in the morning you and your friends give us crap for, well being us. If you wanted to could you say something when they do it again?" said Pyrails.
This hit Fish like a ton of bricks. He had unknowingly treated a pony who shared a real connection to who he really was like trash. How could he do something like this? Fish felt a flood of emotions and most of it was anger.
"Of course I will" replied Fish.
Over the next couple days Fish did a lot of thinking and not a lot of sleeping.
He was a monster. But he had always seen himself as a good hearted pony that was just doing what he could to survive and stay happy. He was so wrong and he hated himself for what he had done.
He had let who he really was slip away and disappear completely. What little of his former self was left had begun to come back over the past few weeks.
With this came pain and guilt that has gradually started to tear his sanity apart. Things Fish enjoyed like flying with friends became a mindless activity that gives him no joy.
He doesn't blame Pyrails for his pain, only himself. Pyrails was the wake up call he needed to snap him back on the right track.
The promise that Fish made is still honored. Fish tells himself that he would gladly stop anyone who would tease or pick on Pyrails.
One problem still remains for Fish though. Fish keeps telling himself he will change and that ponies he picked on will helped instead of hurt. But he knows in the back of his mind it isn't true. He isn't strong enough to stop himself or others from pushing other ponies to tears and suicide. This is what keeps him awake at night. His fear of making promises and not keeping them.
All he can do now is wait for the time to prove to everyone and himself that he is strong enough to show the real pony behind his fake shell and stand up to the ponies that are part of who he is today.
Fish told himself over and over again that he didn't care what anyone thought of him. He did though. He cared too much. Why must something of such little meaning matter at all?
It had been a few weeks since he had found Pyrails. He had to admit that he was feeling better about how everything had been going. He knew he had to make up for what he had done. But that was going to take time.
He had found artists. Not colts like himself but fillies instead. He didnt mind though, it was nice to talk other ponies.
These other ponies were brave and felt no shame in showing what they loved to the whole world. He admired them for that. The other ponies would encourage him to express himself.
Even if it sounded like a great idea he would still refuse because he was certain that his friends would abandon and alienate him if they ever found out his secret so he continued to stay quite while this new internal battle began inside him.
It was Hearth's Warming and he had a long break from school. Fish felt like a burden had been lifted temporarily because he didn't have to deal with anypony or think about anything.
Smoking clover also helped. Getting ripped then going flying was fun, but started to feel like more of a crutch every time Fish smoked. Everything changed when he was high. He was happy and care free, but seemed to crash more often.
He was free to fly everyday and not be bothered. Life is good when you don't care and you are really high.
But again he felt something rattling around in the back of his mind. A single question.
"Should I just let go and embrace who I am?"
Any pony could easily answer yes, but not him. The other artists could easily do this. Fish kept going through all the bad things that could happen if he just let everything go and told everypony he was an artist.
He would go flying and let his mind ponder on this for awhile until he was brutally snapped out of it by a tree or another pegasus.
Once he had a particular bad crash and he knew he was losing control of himself.
"I'm done with this shit" Fish thought to himself. "I'm done smoking clover, I don't need it to be happy".
He was one step closer to becoming a better pony he thought to himself cheerfully. After an intense day of flying he returned home to find is parents in the middle of a verbal war. Carefully he slinked up to his room with out being spotted. Fish was good at being unseen. He hated his parents for fighting and wished he could just leave.
"Not much longer until I'm of age and I can move out of this fucked up house."
He knew that it wasn't healthy to stay there. The constant anger in that house was tearing him apart mentally and emotionally. Again like other things he blocked out everything and focused on things that brought him joy. Fish started blasting music and drawing. He could feel his problems melt away.
His inner peace was quickly ruined by his mothers voice, "Fish! Dinner!" she hollered up the stairs. Slowly he made his way downstairs where his family would eat in quite while the tension between his mother and father grew. This was normal and that was pretty fucking depressing.
Fish didn't hate his parents. He loved them a lot, it was just the constant bickering he couldn't stand. They had always been there for him and they had taught him many valuable lessons.
One of these lessons was silence: "Don't talk while I'm talking" "Think before you say something stupid" "Don't talk with food in your mouth" "Just be quiet"
They never ment to teach him this but they did and it stuck. He always thought before speaking making him more hesitant when expressing his opinions. Still at school he would talk freely in class about all sorts of things but never about his beliefs and opinions.
He was free to think about whatever he wanted to with out any type of consequences.
No one judged him and no cared what he said, as long as he stayed quiet and kept it to himself.