Apathy

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I would like to start off with saying that this story starts, like many others. There is the protagonist, a young man of a mere twenty one years. His name is complicated and difficult to understand in most situations so for the sake of the story we shall call him Ryan, Ryan Kent. He shall undergo a journey that not only will change him as a person, but which will also change him as a human. Literally.

Now Ryan is not like most, but certainly not the only one of his kind. Ryan is a human, a human with an disturbingly powerful apathy. As it is, the man known as Ryan is the kind who would watch the world pass him by with little to no thought of it. It should be pointed out however that this man wished to change. Why many would ask? If one truly are not affected by the world and it's constant changes and turns, why strive to be? Well, the answer is simple, if you feel little to nothing do you not crave more?

The man wanted to feel, because life offered little and his very existence was losing it's appeal. When nothing entertains you and life feels more empty than anything else, why keep the light of life?

Well this man kept going for his own reasons. He had a philosophy you see. When one ask what the meaning of life is, one normally gets a number of different answers. Ryan believed that there is no one meaning of life, more like a meaning of your own life. What is the meaning of your life, is the question he would have asked. His answer? To live for the few moments in his life that would bring about true happiness, sadness or any strong emotion in him. Naming the moments "The golden nuggets of life" he pushed on through what others in his state of mind would probably simply forsake as an unnecessary complication.

Ah but it seems as we've been thrown into a tangent. Let the story commence. See how the man known as Ryan Kent went from being the emotionally detached man he once was to becoming the loving and caring being that we know him to be.

*Ahem* ... It all started on a cold winter night in January ...

~▲~

*Groan*... So here we are again. It’s 5 am in the morning and I have not slept a wink. Again. It has become a normality for me I’ll admit. These past 3 days I've slept 4 hours and I got little to no energy left. Does my body care? Nope, not as far as I can see.

Dead ass tired as I am it helps little when my body seems to not grasp the concept of ‘falling asleep’. So tired am I that I can’t even function while doing my favorite pass time. That is, escaping from reality through games. Doesn't really work when you fall asleep on the keyboard does it? No. No it doesn't. The moment I go to bed to pass away into blissful unconsciousness though? Nah, then we’re not going to fall asleep, nooo! That would be too easy.

I groan once more in exaggeration as I roll of bed. One would think that I would be fed up with this by now. Then again, go for 6 years with this condition and have doctors constantly tell you nothing is wrong and it’s your own fault for using the computer or whatnot before bed and you stop caring at a point.

Not that I care much for anything these days. It seems that the more time goes on and the more life advances, the less life itself affects me.

Finding myself rolling around on the floor in pitch black I shakily get myself up on my feet and stumble towards the light switch. The embodiment of grace you say? Why, thank you I answer before shooting off a sarcastic remark about your incurable blindness and lack of wit.

What? I’m grumpy in the mornings. One of the few times you will actually see real emotions from the likes of me, not the overly exaggerated and blatantly fake social interactions that is the norm. The scary part though? It’s the fact that people don’t get it. They don’t see the easily discernible falseness that is my smiles and laughter. Geez, how hard can it be? That laughter was too loud, that smile just a tad too wide.

I swear, sometimes I think people just accept what they see as facts because they can’t deal with what’s really going on. Maybe that’s for the better though? I mean, If everybody just accepted everyone else because they couldn't deal with the stress of different points of view maybe we would see a lasting peace? Heh, now that’s a naive thought if I ever had one.

*Sigh*... After finding the light switch I drag my worthless sack of flesh over to the shower to get the edge of the tiredness out of my bones. Lessee... there’s the water knob alright. Now let’s get some heat going!

Aah, shower’s. If there was ever anything I would be able to actually and truly love in this existence we are in then it would be showers. I mean, what is there not to love? You get clean, warm and have an excuse to both sing and philosophize all in one place! It’s perfeaaaaaaargh! Fa**! That’s cold... Leave it up to my sleep deprived mind to forget to actually let the water heat up before jumping headfirst into the stream of icicle death.

As I let the water get to bearable temperatures I rub my knee which got profoundly god smacked into the shower wall after my close encounter with the Lord of frost himself. One of these days I’m probably going to break my neck in this shower, considering this happens every. Damn. Morning.

This is one of those things that would annoy me to no end i guess. Then again, it didn't. It was routine. Something I had gotten used to.I also had a knack for stubbing my toe into my bedroom door every time I entered or left it. Hurt like all hells but I never cared enough to learn from it.

I would entertain the thought of it being some kind of subconscious self destructive desire or the like. I do however find it very unlikely since not only do I not care enough about myself to be self destructive but what little I do think off myself is all positive things.

Well now, enough pointless musings. It’s time for me to get myself the best conceivable start on a day a person can get. A cup. Of glorious. Delicious. Holy. Astounding. Joe. That’s right people. A cup’o’Joe. Coffee. The Black liquid Gold. The God’s water. The powder of night! and so and so forth. Point is! I get to wake up, a bit at the very least. Hm, makes me think of a very good saying I once heard. You are never sleepy! Just coffee thirsty!

*Sluurp* Aah. Wise words indeed.

Now, lessee what’s the clock? Oh crap, late again.

The time is 7:30 Am and the bus leaves my stop less than a minute from then. You might ask, how in all hells did you manage to use two and a half hours on a shower and making a cup of freaking Joe? Well, I say in my defense. First off the light switch is a bitch to find. Secondly, I’m not the type to take a shower of five minutes and be on my way. No sir! I am a man of love for the running water! Yessire! I use the entire water tank when I shower. What? I like showers...

Oh! And thirdly, the cup of Joe is made from about a cup of water and 15 spoons of the blackest coffee powder you can find in the shady back corner of that one creepy Asian store in the alleyway. So my poor coffee maker gotta trudge through that too, and then it’s gotta cool down and so on and so forth. Did I also mention that time never seems to be my pal?

So yeah, I run headfirst out the door, completely forgetting both locking the door and my school bag. Also forgetting to change out of my bathrobe. Needless to say, I run back in and out a few times before I actually get my ass going.

... I missed the bus ... Again.

Muttering to myself I headed towards school the usual way. By foot. I don't mind The walk, actually I prefer it. It's a forty minute walk, and a beautiful walk at that. Normally I actually walk to school, but I refrain from doing so at winter time. Considering the fact that It's normally ranging between -10 to -30 Celsius at The coldest months. This was one of The colder days.

Lighting up a smoke I grab my gloves from my school bag and put them on, not wanting to get frostbite from fulfilling my need for the death stick. The ironic part about smoking is the fact that I'm not really all that fond of the feeling I get when I smoke it. It's more about the philosophical aspect of the ritual. As in, the philosophical mood I get in when I do smoke. My most intriguing thoughts and musings comes around when I'm smoking. I get all deep and stuff. Funny how dragging down a poison can get you thinking about the big things in life huh?

Stopping by a coffee shop on the way I buy myself another cup'o'Joe and move on wards to the school. It's a tradition really, on the cold days I buy coffee and on the hotter spring days and in summer time it goes in energy drinks from the local store on the way. Passing the cathedral that is the halfway point to my school I nod my head along to the music on my phone. I think the reason I can actually manage the walk to and from school on the cold winter days is thanks to the music. It makes it easy to forget the numbing cold and shivering winds that is typical of the city I live in.

I think I should point out a few things about me while I'm doing this internal monologue. For one, I got Attention-Deficit Disorder, commonly known as ADD. What that entails is many things but I guess the most prominent feature of it is the fact that I tend to disappear into my own thoughts. I can literally zone out everything around me and become "dead to the world". Now I also stress the fact that this is in no way done on purpose, nor can I do it at will. Creating a scenario which will make this happen however is easy enough. Simply put me in a situation where nothing that interests me happens and you will see my eyes unfocus and it's safe to say that I'm gone.

Secondly is the fact that I'm stubborn, to a fault. An example of my stubbornness is when I'm in a discussion. It can be about anything really, but the case most often than not is that I will stubbornly stick to my point of view even when proved wrong. I will argue it's point until I am blue. Why? Even I do not know. However I think it lies with the feeling of hating to be wrong. I would like to stress though, that as soon as the discussion is over with and the situation is done I change my view on a dime and learn from it. Efficiently changing my perception of the world to fit the information I have gained from the experience. It's dumb to be frank. There is no reason why I should be so stubborn about it when I know I'm wrong but I would guess it's an underlying desire to not show weakness in the face of confrontation. Yet another example of a fault that lies in the species that we know as humans.

If there ever were something I would be able to hate it would be humans. I do not have enough. Excuse the expression. Fucks to give to actually hate something, but if I did it would be humans. We are hypocritical, selfish, conflict seeking lumps of hate. And we know it. The worst part? I am one of them. Not only that, but I'm just like them. Getting fed up with humans is also a disturbingly human trait. However, I would like to point out that I don't dislike all humans. Far from it, time and time again I see examples of what I would personally say is the aspect of what humans should be. I strive to become that. To become a truly "good" person. I guess most would call such things naive, and I would be foremost among those who do. It does not change the fact that I want to become that kind of person.

Ah! School. The center of knowledge and social interaction of intellectual development. In my petty teenage years I used to hate school. It was boring and full of useless information I felt I didn't need. Of course, that was back then. Now? I really appreciate school. It's a place where I can continue the eternal fight against ignorance. I would say that my strongest emotion would be curiosity. While it does not burn in me as it is wont to do with most, it is the strongest drive I have to be spurred into action. The constant nagging thoughts that say; "But what if you need to know that one day?" "What if that information one day could prove invaluable?", "What if knowing that one day saves your life?"

In the end I truly do doubt that knowing the proper way to analyse a poem from the 1800’s is gonna save my life, but it’s a nice little piece of info to have tucked away in my little gray. Same with science studies, geography and English and... Heh, needless to say I find random information to be a good thing to have. Moving on!

It’s a Wednesday so it’s an early start for me. History is the class I start off with, one of my favorite courses actually. Being that I’m one of those who mean you gotta know your past and learn from it to progress. That being said, our teacher is a swell guy. Really the kind who wants us to learn and such. Only problem he has is the fact that he has a really monotone voice. Like, the kind that just seems to disappear into the background no matter how hard you try to listen to it. Combine that with my ever present ADD and I think you can guess the result. If you guessed one Ryan sitting with glossed over eyes staring vacantly into space, slightly drooling of off the side of his mouth than you are absolutely correct! Good on you.

History class was over before I knew what had happened. Funny that, History always seems to just pass on by too fast for me to realize it and I always leave the classroom feeling like I never learned anything. Hmm.

Next up we got the local language classes. Aah, learning to analyse and dictate poems and the like. One of the things that actually surprised me with this class was that not only did we learn about the structural foundations of sentences and such but we also learned to critically critique works of art and how to express said critique through a form of expression to solidify our views and feelings.

Ah, but it seems I ramble. To be fair nothing really interesting happens in school so there seems to be little point in telling you all this. Why do I seem to be talking to myself you ask? I honestly don’t know, a habit I picked up from my younger years I guess. My childhood story is bland and typical so I shan't bore you with details but I’ll point out that I was a target for all who wanted to dish out some frustration. It should give you a vague idea what it was like. Nothing important, nor anything new.

What is interesting about it I would guess should be what it resulted in. It has made me a very thick skinned individual. Some would say too thick skinned. My psychologist would say “A self induced neutrality to self interest that is both unhealthy and self destructive!”. I dropped him after he made the great diagnosis of calling me a schizophrenic. So what if I heard people calling my name as I went to sleep. Doesn't mean I hear voices. Not at all. It’s been a long while since it happened last time anyway. I think I’m running on two years without it now? Something along those lines at least.

With local language classes over and done with I head outside for a smoke break and to strike up a conversation with one of the classmates I've gotten to know over the period I've been going to the course. Lighting up my cigarette I nod towards her, slightly curving my left eyebrow upwards in acknowledgement.

“Damn long classes huh?” I mutter out while putting on a sigh.

“Yeah, I was ‘this’ far from falling asleep”. She answer while holding two fingers close to each other simulating a form of measurement, simultaneously taking a drag of her own cigarette.

“Glad to be free from that stuffy classroom for a while”. I groan as I pop my back by stretching.

"Mhm." Was her simple answer while shrugging her shoulders in a agreeing sort of way.

We stood in relative silence while we continued our self destructive ritual of poisonous inhalation. It really was biting cold. It didn't help much that I had decided to wear my thin leather jacket today. Not the brightest of ideas I know, but I was fond of it and in spite of sounding like a fashion diva. I pull it off, marvelously. I'm not entirely stupid though and had the common sense to put on extra layers underneath. Consisting of a wool undershirt with a typical band t-shirt and a simple gray sweater. My legs were dressed in a similar matter with dark blue jeans with a light wash and wool under leggings underneath those. On my feet I wore a pair of black socks, with gray wool socks over those and some simple black "boot style" shoes that ended at the ankles.

Put simply? I looked good, while still being protected from the cold. Or, you know. Would have been hadn't it been for the fact that it was incredibly cold today. Geez, my nose felt like it would fall off and my fingers where numb to the bone. Ah, the joys of living in the cold north. I hate the cold. Knowing that, it would seem dumb for most that when I moved from my hometown I moved further north. Still, I appreciate this cold city. The people are friendly, the party scene is great and diverse and there’s always something to do if you have the need for it.

Next course was math which consisted of me idly browsing the net of my netboard while looking up at the blackboard once in a while to see if there was something going on that I didn't already know. I should point out that I'm currently attending a private high school. After dropping out of high school, twice. I finally found myself in a situation where attending school was a blessing, rather than a curse. Not only is this school consisting of only students interested in learning, it's also filled with great teachers who really wants you to learn. Not just earn a paycheck.

Finishing up math at 2 pm I headed out of school and to the local store, to get myself another package of smokes. With only four left in my old pack it seemed fairly likely I would run out before I had the chance to go to a store again. I would not go on an idle shopping trip without other reasons in a cold like this. No way no how. It's all about self preservation and such. Or, at the very least it's about comfort. I enjoy comfort. Walking twenty minutes in biting cold is not my idea of a comfortable situation.

With my new package in my pocket and the school day over with I head home wards. Taking the bus I come home relatively fast and I slip on some comfortable jogging pants and my bathrobe to feel as unconstricted as possible while still being kept warm. I boot up my computer and the rest of the day goes by in a blur of gaming and making music.

Did I mention I do music? Well I do. Not that I'm much of a decent musician yet, but I'm getting there. The plan was to enroll music courses after getting the normal classes out of the way. I was aiming to become a vocal coach. Being a role model for others has been a fascination of mine for a long while. I never really had a role model growing up and hearing others tell tales of people they looked up to made me feel like I had missed out on something vital. So I had decided that I would do what I could to make sure others did not have to do the same.

There's also the fact that I wanted to work with voice overs. More specifically I wanted to work in animation. To be able to portrait characters on a screen was another fascination of mine. A way to become someone else for a while, to escape reality by diving into another world and living another life. As it is, reality holds little interest for me. It always feels like it just isn't interesting enough. Now I stress to say that I do enjoy aspects of life. If I didn't I would not be around anymore. It's just that reality always seem to fall short. I believe living simply has become too easy. No real challenges anymore. No dangers lurking nor any struggles to be met other than finding a way to pay for the food on the table and maybe keep a permanent roof over your head.

As evening slowly turned to night I pop my sleep aid pills and tuck into bed, hoping for once that sleep would find me. As exhausted as I was and tired from lack of proper sleep this last week one would think that was easy enough. What with me using medication and everything. I've had the sleeping problems since I was fifteen though so I hadn't gotten my hopes up.

~▲~

5 am and no dice. I was at this point so sleep deprived one would think I would be able to fall asleep but nope. I had dozed off for about half an hour in there somewhere, but it did not last as I woke up from the refrigerator in my room starting up and humming into the dark. Some would find it funny I guess. Let me explain something about my sleep disorder to you. As I mentioned earlier, I have difficulty falling asleep. Thing is though, when I actually do fall asleep. I'm efficiently dead to the world. My brother tested just how far gone I was once. Nothing too complicated, started off with making an altar on my back. Complete with candles with running wax down my back and a show katana balancing on my spine. After that didn't do much, he resulted in kicking me in the ribs. Hard enough to knock me out of bed. I kept snoring.

Now that you got some context. Here's the kicker. What actually manages to wake me up are a few things which makes little to no sense. For starters, if someone tries to sneak past my bedroom door in the morning, in the intent of not waking me up, I wake up so fast I would give even the brightest of early birds pause. Same thing with the distinct noise of my mothers footsteps on a stairway. Yep, my sleep befuddled mind actually manages to discern the exact noise that my mother makes and wakes me from it. No other footsteps works the same way. The last thing that manages to wake me would be Rasputin's song from the old animation movie Anastasia. Don't ask me why, but when he kicks off with "Come my minions! Rise for your master!" I wake up zombie style, singing along for all I'm worth.

To my flatmates never ending amusement.

As I lie trying to empty out my mind in the hopes of getting at least a few minutes more sleep, it starts. Oh dear lord I thought I was done with this shit.

"Ryan". The voice of my flatmate calls out into the dark expanses that is my mind.

"Ryan". Picks up my mothers voice. Sounding like she's calling me for dinner like in the old days.

"Ryyyyan". Calls out the whiny, grating voice of one of my childhood friends. The old voice he used to have a 10 years past. Not the seemingly bland voice he has now.

"Ryan!" Of course, that voice had to be the one that picked off where the last one let up.

"Rya-Ryan. R-Ry-Rya-N-Ry-An-Ryan-Yan". Voices starts peppering my name into my head, faster and louder until I can't tell them apart anymore and my mind is more drowned in noise than a waterfall.

"RY-RYAN-RYAN!!!" And just as the sound becomes unbearable, just as it reached levels that would break a lesser mind, it goes quiet.

In the wake of all that noise, my mind feels not only eerily quiet, but unfathomably hollow. As if there never had been a thought there in the first place. I guess one could imagine that this is how the brain would feel if it were to take a reboot. Kinda. Guess not. You get my point though.

After having my brain assaulted by all the voices I've ever heard uttered in my mediocre existence, I drag myself out of bed. By some rare miracle I find the light switch on the first try and get myself to the bathroom to freshen up. A few minutes later I've finished taking one of the quickest showers of my life and stand in front of the mirror. Still annoyed about the lack of sleep and knowing of the dangers of comfort when I am in this state of being, I try to keep myself out of situations where I might actually fall asleep. If I do fall asleep now I'm not waking up for eighteen hours, so forgive me for not being keen on falling asleep in the shower. Where, my luck would probably get me drowned.

My bad luck is actually a sort of a joke among my peers. It's known as The Kent Luck. Basically synonymous with "Oh U Fuk'd Nao!" My closest friend and I once theorized that two, a bit too convenient deaths in the family. Where the direct result of The Kent Luck(tm) giving me and him the chance to go through with some plans that were supposed to be cancelled. After that, I kinda stopped asking unknown deity's for favors. I don't particularly believe in the supernatural, but y'know. Just in case.

I am per definition, a Strong Agnostic. Though that's neither here nor there. I'll just point out that the reason I am such is because I can not find any reason to believe in a higher being, nor does reincarnation seem possible to me. However I also believe that to blatantly deny something because of lack of proof is the greatest sin one can make towards knowledge. To perceive something as a fact when one does not have sufficient proof towards either side is to spit Truth in the face. I do not, nor will I ever consider something "The truth" if there is not real scientific evidence behind it. As science, I bend my view on the world based on what is perceived.

As I gaze into the mirror I see the same old sight that has greeted me from the beginning of memory. Myself. At this point in time I have fairly long black hair. On the front it goes down to my jaw line with a blond stripe down the right side. On the back it goes down below my neck and a good many centimeters downwards my spine. My face is cleanly shaven except for a gathering on my chin. Which is about five-six centimeters long. Think Jack Sparrow without the mustache and no braiding. I'm fairly tall, a hundred and eighty-one centimeters to be exact. With a slender build which gives the illusion of some defined muscles. On the left side of my chest, over my heart I have a tattoo of a self designed ankh. I wear some simple, but stylish glasses with a black top rim. Something which would be typically seen on a office worker I would assume. Other than the distinct lack of hair on my chest and stomach I'm fairly typical looking. That is except the fact that I'm drop dead handsome though. That's my personal opinion at least. Tall, dark and mysterious. What more can you ask for?

After drying and brushing my hair I go back to my room and get myself dressed for the day. Once again packing myself in several layers of clothing, before booting up my desktop to waste away the next two hours until school.

Having made myself a cup'o'joe somewhere in the time before I got out to catch the bus, I found myself moderately alive by the time I have myself seated and stare vacantly out the bus window. Being that I had promised my flat mate to meet up with him on a café after school today I had packed more things with me in my school bag than normal. Examples would be my death note, (got it from a weaboo friend of mine) my penhouse, (I only ever write notes on my netboard anyways, so I almost never use it) and a whittling knife. (In case of spontaneous walks through the few woodlands areas we got here in the city. I like having the means to make myself crude wooden tools and weaponry. I think of it as therapeutic).

Why we could end up in a woodland area when we're supposed to be talking business in a café is beyond me, but stranger things have happened in my group of friends. Once we we're supposed to go get a snack a ten minute drive away and ended up taking an 8 hour long road trip to shop. For, and I quote: "Shitz 'n' Giggles".

We were that kind of spontaneous group. Doing whatever came to mind just because we could.

I arrive at school with little of interest happening on the way. Stopped for a cup of coffee, had a smoke. The usual. School was the same as always too. Sometimes boring, sometimes really fascinating. Depending on which course I was in and what we we're doing in the course. I shan't bore you with the details but suffice to say, nothing really interesting happened.

Standing outside I strike up a conversation with one of my many classmates.

*Yaaaawn* "It's Thursday, right?" I ask him while stretching my back to it's utmost capacity.

He just rolls his eyes before replying with heavy lidden sarcasm

"Noo? Is it? I always thought we ended the day with math on Fridays!"

Feeling as if it's whats expected off me I put on a smirk, narrow my eyes and punch him in the shoulder before commenting.

"Shaddap! You know I can't tell time for shit."

Chuckling to himself he waves his hands in a 'what-can-you-do?' Gesture.

"Heh, there's a difference between not being able to tell time and not knowing what freaking day it is dude. I swear, you are helpless."

Knowing of my own aptitude of being late for appointments, I end the conversation by giving him a flat look before lifting my nose in a falsified insulted manner.

"Well then! If that is what you truly feel then I shall remove myself from your presence and be helpless elsewhere. Good day!" I end, with a mock British accent and storm off.

"I'll see you tomorrow if ya can remember to actually show up!" He yells after me while I make my way towards the pre-mentioned café.

The way to the café takes me through one of my favorite places in the city. One of the parks. It's great. They got rivers running through it with duck ponds, and benches to sit in and everything. Perhaps I should point out that I’m the type of person who appreciates beauty. More specifically natural beauty. There’s few things in this world that is as special as being at a mountain top and watch the world unfolded all around you. It humbles you, above all. You truly get that feeling of being insignificant.

Walking through the park I light up another smoke and start heading down one of the several pathways that has been made. I truly enjoy walking through this park. Kinda get’s you out of the city feeling, y’know? Having grown up on a much less urban environment in my youth I’m much more inclined towards nature than the city environment. Though as it is, if you want a job in music or acting you gotta adapt and move to the bigger city’s. So I did. I don’t have to like it.

Dragging down the smoke I look around the park, noticing the details once more. It’s kinda weird really. You can see the towering buildings just outside of this little patch of nature. Just a sanctuary, nothing more. It gives off the feeling that the buildings, and the bustling activity of the city will swallow up this peace at any given time.

Heading towards the duck pond I’m contemplating sitting down for a few ticks, just to enjoy this feeling some more. I look down at my feet walking briskly towards their destination. Heading along a pathway made of gravel. The soft crunching noise is kind of soothing actually. It takes your mind off all other distractions, if you are willing to let it. As I focus on the sound I once more look up towards the buildings in the distance. Giving off a small frown of discontentment I close my eyes briefly, just flowing along to the sound of gravel beneath my feet.

*crunch* *crunch* *crunch* *clack*. Hmm, that was odd. Did I step on a rock or something? as I open my eyes and look down I realize I must have gotten out of the pathway when I closed my eyes. Under my feet was a mass of tangling roots covering rock in a natural kind of way. I look upwards towards the duck pond, In an attempt to get back on the pathway.

The sight that greeted my eyes, where not what I expected. Not in the least. In front of me, no all around me actually. Was not the park I had been in only seconds past, but trees. Thick forest surrounded me on all sides, as if I had been hiking through it for hours. In my confusion I did not realize that the trees where not covering the path I was headed, It was actually devoid of trees. When my foot signaled my brain that it was not stepping on anything I realized why the path ahead did not contain trees. It was because it did not contain anything. Adrenaline surged through my body as my foot stepped downwards into nothing and my body followed. My mind raced to understand the situation it suddenly found itself in.

I had stepped off a cliff side. And now I was falling. Fast. I spun my body in a vain attempt to grab the ledge of the cliff before I hurtled downwards towards my inevitable death. No such luck it would seem, I was not near fast enough to get a grip. The only thing I managed to do was crack my hand into the rock and getting a shock of pain. Of course, I did not even register the pain as I fell downwards towards my demise. Looking down I realize I was heading towards a bunch of trees. It truly was a long way down. Oh this is gonna hurt really bad, or at least it will hurt really bad for about half a second. Then, considering my luck I’ll probably be speared on a tree and die. Wait, no that’s wrong. Considering my luck I’ll probably be speared on a tree and then live. A whole long while. In agony.

This is gonna suuuuuck.

*CRASH* The sound fills my ears just as a lightning strike surge through my body. Or at least that’s the closest comparison that comes to mind. The pain is unbearable. I’m pretty sure I broke my spine.

*CR-R-RACK* Oh Sweet Jesus F**** Chr*st! Oh Mother, F****! Aaah! The pain, oh dear lord the pain! My foot, How in the name of all that hates me can something possibly hurt so much. Why ain't I dead yet!
*Thump* My eyes snap open as the air rushes out of my lungs. Adrenaline still coursing through my body, my mind rushes to analyze the situation. A futile attempt of self preservation if I ever knew one.

Let’s see, from the insane amounts of pain coming from my left knee I can only assume I've lost the foot entirely. Looking down at it, I not only realize how wrong I am. I also realize it was a bad idea to look.

~▲~

One never really learns to appreciate unconsciousness, for one you never realize you are unconscious. And when you wake up, you quickly forget that you were unconscious in the first place.

Flashing lights fill my vision as pictures rush towards me and through me. The first thing I notice in this tunnel that is my existence for the moment is the sound of rushing wind, the
second and by far more prominent thing I notice is pain. Blindingly, furious pain. As my mind clicks into place and I wake up, I scream out a chortling cry of pure agony. Oh dear god, this pain. I can’t describe it with words. There is no way you can explain this sort of torture to anyone. It is the sort of thing that would go down in legend with words like epic and godlike. Silly words that don’t hold a candle to the actuality of the situation.

I realize that I must have fallen unconscious. Looking down at the source of my most prominent pain I understand why. In fact, I was pretty close to faint again. Out of my knee sticks out a jagged broken bone, probably five, six centimeters outwards. Breathing raggedly it’s all I can do keeping myself from throwing up. The rational side of my mind keeping me from doing so in a vain attempt to keep liquid in my body. After all, I’m in the middle of a forest, with a broken leg. Who knows how long it will be until I’m found. If I get found.

This has gotta be one of the worst way to go. Slowly, in the middle of nowhere. Alone. With unbearable pain. Yup. A metal death if I ever heard of one. I don’t want it though. I want to live. In fact, I want to live, without pain. Funny that.

As I lie, trying in vain not to move my leg around too much, I try my best to analyze what other damage I might have sustained. In a fall that, by all rights no one should be able to survive. Seriously. Fu*k my luck. This kind of pain is the kind that makes you question whether life is worth it or not.

I should point out that pain is something I’m rather used to. Growing up as I did you tend to get rather efficient at ignoring pain. I’m the kind of guy who for some reason piss of people when I’m out drinking. Don’t really know why, guess that tall, skinny guys with glasses seem like easy targets I guess. Because of that though I have developed both a high resistance to pain and have made some tactics that make most squeamish about attacking me. Funny how when someone punches you in the face and you react by laughing them in the face afterwards makes most people think twice about fucking with you. I guess most just don’t expect you to grin through the blood flowing down from your nose after an act of aggression. Now, I’m not trying to say that people where I live are weak or anything. But when you grew up with a physically abuse brother who went to boxing and had a pure knock out win streak, you kinda get a high resistance towards most physical aggression.

Of course, that kind of “pain” and this kind. There is a whole world in difference. I thought I was tolerant to pain. Wrong. I was so, so wrong.

I try to move my hands, not much luck in that department. Screaming out in another bout of agony I realize my left shoulder is most likely dislocated, pretty badly. My right hand has faired better, though not my far. some of the fingers are bent in awkward ways that makes my head spin just looking at. Some of the nails have actually been ripped right out of their sockets.

~▲~

Once again, flashing lights and images surge through and around me. Oh why could I not just stay unconscious? There’s no pain when you are dead to the world.

Waking up I grit my teeth as tears start streaming down my face. I sob to myself as lie on the bed of flowers. Hm? I hadn't noticed that I before. Well, considering the pain I was in and the state of my body I guess I can’t be blamed for not noticing my environment. Funny thing, these flowers. Tall and proud they stand. Startlingly blue, and oddly familiar actually. I swear I know these flowers. Now, actually knowing flowers ain’t that special, but there was something about these flowers that sent a tingling down my spine. Why did I have such a hard time placing them? Well for one, I had never actually seen them in reality before. Hm, odd way of putting it brain. Then it clicked. Poison Joke. As in, from the show I watch.

Perhaps I should point that out, while I’m lying here waiting to waste away anyway. I am, what has become known as a brony. What that means is basically that I am a person who watches a show called My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic. It’s originally made for a younger demographic, but has become very popular among young adults. I was no exception, being that I am a sucker for happy go lucky settings. Being a great fan of equines probably had something to do with it too. I was one of those who grew up loving horses. After we had one for grazing a summer long past, I kinda got obsessed. That was of course, very much to the amusement of the other boys in my class who all was fan of cars and such. Horses apparently is a girl thing. Meh, I never cared too much about what was supposed to be girly or manly though. I figured it didn’t matter. I was a guy, I liked horses. Get over it.

Hm, I never actually thought that they would base the design for poison joke off of a real flower though. I wonder what the actual name of these plants are.

As I lie here contemplating this, I notice a sound. To be fair, I guess it’s safe to say that I actually noticed a smell first. It just didn’t register in my mind before I heard the sound. For one, the smell was horrid. Unlike anything I had smelled before. Filled with pain and being as groggy as I was, it should come as no surprise that I first thought the smell came from the flowers. I quickly dismissed the notion however when I heard the noise again. It didn’t really click in my mind what it was at first, but it did not take long for me to realize what it was. A growl. Oh yes, my luck exactly! I don’t get to starve to death. I get to be eaten!

As the bushes on the edge of the flower patch rustles I sob once more. It was a pitiful sound. Bordering between fear and acceptance. I raise my neck as far as it can go, so I at the very least can get to look at what shall eat me. What meets my eyes, shocked me even more than the fall which broke my body. It was wolves. That much I could tell right away. However, these were not the types of wolves that roam around in your average forest. These were, legitimate Timber wolves. Or, that is, legitimate my little pony timber wolves. As in, the timber wolf made up of actual timber. And, um. What the actual flying fuck.

It was at this point I realized I had gone crazy. Yep, the pain had driven me absolutely bonkers. No doubt about it. I was stark raving mad. I alternated between crying and laughing at this point. Wincing and crying out every other second from pain, brought on by the shaking motion. I could only guess at what the wolves would think of their prey. Lying there, pitifully on a platter made of flowers, laughing and/or crying it’s ass off.

As they stalked ever closer I noticed my poor abused adrenaline glands where once more kicking it into high gear and the pain in my body, while not completely gone dulled down a bit. Seems my body was actually trying to save itself. Doesn’t seem to know when to give up huh? Well not very much I can do, considering that I’m pretty much immobilized. Fuck it, I ain’t gonna just let them eat me. That just isn’t me. I lift my battered right arm, pretty much the only member of my body I can move at this time and drag it over to my left shoulder to get off my school bag. I was currently lying on top of the damned thing and I knew I had a knife in there somewhere. Aah my trusted whittling knife. How glad I am I packed you.

To say it hurt getting the bag strap off my shoulder is an understatement. Having only my thumb unhurt on my right hand meant I had to hook the strap with my thumb and drag it off. And my left shoulder was still dislocated. Top that off with the pain causing me to kick with my left leg, and I think you can know what happened next. Screaming bloody murder, it took me 3 tries just to get the bag strap loose and over my head to free it. Of course, the flap of the bag was closed so I had to get that opened too. And as luck would have it, my knife was underneath all the shit in my bag.

Small wonder the wolves hadn't already eaten my face off at this point. Guess all that blood curdling screaming made them wary. My luck though, says they ain't the type to give up. Nope, though they were much slower now they still kept coming. Prowling inwards in a circle. Each time they made a full circle they moved in one more step. It was kind of hypnotizing to watch. I probably would have been fascinated, you know, hadn't it been for the fact that they wanted to eat me!

Taking what few digits on my right hand that hadn't been broken I gripped the whittling knife with all the strength I could muster. I bit the scabbard and dragged it off. Praying silently to whoever deity that would take to watch this happen that I at least got a, shall we say, epic death. Course, seeing as how I was the equivalent of a over sized meatball with a toothpick right now I truly doubt that would happen.

I heard a twig snap underneath one of the wolves paw’s and then it happened. They lunged. All of them at the same time. Before I even had the chance to scream they crashed together. Seems they ain't the smartest of creatures, seeing as they got tangled together and landed straight on top of me. That hurt. Like all seven circles of hell that hurt. One thing you should know about timber wolves? They are heavy. Like, really heavy. Screaming for all my battered lungs and sore throat was worth I took my whittling knife and stabbed the side of one of the timber wolves. To my unending despair, it stuck pretty firmly. The wolf in question let out a long howl and bounded off with my weapon still planted in it’s side. There goes my last line of defense. Crap!

The other wolves untangled themselves in a chaotic fashion and, to my utter bafflement high tailed it out of the grove as fast as they could. Seemingly, following the other wolf. Had my luck changed? Had I just hit the alpha or something? Looking around at the now eerily quiet flower patch that has become my grave I realize something. My school bag was gone. No knife, and no school bag. Meaning, no weapon and no water nor food. Oh great. This was just great. Crying out my defiance towards the clouds I started cursing all deity’s known to man for the events that has happened towards me. I just can’t seem to catch a break do I? No way, uh-uh. Not me. I gotta eat dirt all the fucking way to death huh? Well fucking fine. I give up! I’ll just lie here and die. Fuck it! I’m done!

~▲~

Hunger.

Now there’s a motivator If I ever met one. Considering that I passed out. Twice. I think I've been lying here for roughly two days now. I had the unending fortune of being rained on for about twenty minutes during one of the nights but other than that I’m going on the reserves of the reserves. I’m dying. Fuck, I’ve been dying for two days. However it’s now that I know I’m getting close. Small wonder that I haven’t bled to death actually. Considering my wounds and all. But nooo, we can’t have that can we? Death by blood loss would be too easy! Oh yes, no passing out and dying peacefully for this guy. No way, no how. Nope, I gotta go slow. God, why did I have to fucking stab that timber wolf. They would at the very least have given me a quick death.

My fingers move around the stem of one of the blue flowers growing around me. I grip it and tug. Why couldn't I land in a patch of coconut trees or something huh? That woulda been sweet. Coconut milk and coconut meat. Oh, fuck I want a coconut. My life! My heart and soul for a fucking coconut. I sob quietly to myself as I start munching on the “poison joke”. I was becoming desperate. Fuck, I was actually hoping these flowers were poisonous at this point. It would save me from a lot of pain right now.

~▲~

I’m not even sure how I’m alive at this point. I have no idea how long I've been here. Days and nights have passed as if I’m watching them in some sort of weird fast forwards documentary and still my body lingers on. Opening my mouth on it’s own accord to accept rain, and eating whatever flower is within reach. I've actually dragged myself a few meters away from where I initially lied, just to be able to eat more flowers. I knew for a fact that they could not be poison joke though. I’ve been here for days and days and nothing has happened too me. If anything the joke it would have pulled would be to keep me alive. No poison, no nothing.

I have no more energy. I just can’t seem to be able to drag myself out of the grove, and I haven’t seen anything remotely looking like a timber wolf since that first day. Why must I linger on. Damn it body, just give the fuck up already.

~▲~

“looo” Hmn?

“Eloooo” What?

“Hellooo!” Whuh? What?

Opening my eyes I realize I had once again fallen asleep. Which was what I mostly did nowadays. I look up towards the sky and notice the moon hanging over me. Full moon huh? Guess that explains the voices in my head once again having come back to taunt me. Never heard them say hello before though. So I guess that’s new.

In the quiet night my ears perked up when the voice once more rang out, deep and burly but with a hint of caution. Outside of my head I notice. “Hello!”

My eyes snap towards the location of the sound. The fact that it was night time and with the grove being surrounded by bushes and thick vegetation rendered that act futile.

Coughing slightly I open my mouth and croak out a feeble “Yes, over... here!”

The voice once again sounded throughout the clearing. “Hello to you my twisted friend, why you lie there, I do not comprehend.”

What the. Did he just rhyme? Here I’m lying in a trail of my own blood, bones sticking out of my body and he’s rhyming?

Coughing once more I manage to ask. “What... what are you talking about?”

From within the darkness the voice rang out. “You seem to be injured, but your intentions are blurred. Why bathe in poison joke, when it is clear your body is broke?”

Dragging out air from my lungs in a frustrated sigh I answer as best as I could. “It’s not as if this situation was my intent.” I pause slightly, trying to figure out how to answer in a rhyme. “This circumstance I could not prevent.” I answer lamely after a few seconds. Hoping to all gods that rhyming back would not be misinterpreted as rude.

A few seconds pass in silence and just as I start to panic, thinking he might have left he answers. “By the state of your body and of your surrounding. It seems as if you have gotten quite a pounding. I am inclined to believe that you fell from up high, but if that was the truth, how did you not die?”

“I’ve been asking myself that for the last couple of days” I answer in a voice so dead it even made me cringe.

“Well, for me to save you, there are but few ways” he answered, efficiently ending my rhyme for me.

“I’m all ears boss!” I croak out, trying to add some humor to the situation.

“To enter the grove, I cannot. In the poisonous joke, I would then be caught.” His voice trailed off into silence again.

“Then what can ya do? Umm, Dear mister stew?” I once again throw in a desperate rhyme. Not even knowing fully why at this point.

The sound of something hard hitting something hard sounds out. “Umm, you ok there?” I call out worriedly.

“Yes... I’m fine. Just got a hoof caught in this head of mine.” He called back.

A hoof? Well he sounds African for some reason, maybe it’s a saying of some sort.

“Now listen carefully, I will throw you a vine. And you shall grab hold of it, like a life line.” He called out to me.

“I’m kind of in a bind though, a dislocated shoulder and a busted hand to grab the vine you throw” I answer back, fluently rhyming this time for some reason.

“No need to fret you see, You shall bite hold of the vine, and I’ll drag you to me!” He answered in his burly African voice.

As I try to answer that I doubt I’m near strong enough to hold my own weight by my jaws the vine comes flying in. The end of it hitting me straight in the eye. Mumbling some choice swear words under my breath I take the vine with my busted hand and guide it into my mouth. Biting down for dear life.

“Are you ready? I will now drag you out, slow and steady!” He calls out and starts ever so slowly drag in the rope.

The moment the rope grows taunt I feel my body beginning to drag with it. The moment I start to move however my left leg explodes in pain and I scream out in agony.

“Please, I know your in pain, but if you do not hold on it will all be in vain!” The voice calls out from the dark.

Panting loudly, with tears streaming down my face I grab hold of the vine and bite down on it again, this time choosing to use it as much as a protection for my tongue as the way out of the grove.

It takes a few good tries, but eventually I’m out of the grove. panting loudly and sobbing to myself. The pain is reaching unbearable levels and it took all my willpower just to stay awake during the ordeal. As my vision starts to swim and the edges of the world grow dark I hear the distinct sound of a horse clopping it’s merry way and the last thing I see before once again, giving in to blissful unconsciousness was a zebra leaning over me. Yep, definitely crazy.

Confusion

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Confusion

Confusion. A word which originated from the Latin word confusĭo which basically meant "To mingle together" or "to confuse". Confuse in it's own right, as a verb would be for example; cause (someone) to become bewildered or perplexed. Or; Make (something) more complex or less easy to understand.

Knowing the definition of confusion, or the usage of the word confuse however, doesn't help shit when you're put in a situation that makes the rules of reality hit the bucket. Makes logic fly out the window. Takes facts and tells them to fuck off, we're in Gaga land!

What do you do, when all you know of the world, metaphorically grabs a jet pack and says "Nope, nothing to do here" and flies off to more sensible places, like wonderland or the chocolate factory?

In my case? You shut up, observe and learn. Survival of the fittest and all that. And as we all know, knowledge is power. Hang on tight, it's going to be a bumpy ride.

~▲~

One would have thought that after having gone in and out of consciousness as much as I have these past days, I would have gotten used to it by now. Well I can honestly say. No, no you don't ever get used to it. You become quicker on the uptake afterwards sure, but little else change about it. You still wake up bewildered and confused. The feeling of loss of control and sense of direction never go away. Helplessness is a constant fact when dealing with loss of consciousness.

So one might understand how it was for me waking up, not on a bed of blue flowers. As had become the norm for me, but in a hut of some sort. Surrounded, not by trees, but by shamanistic looking masks and a bubbling cauldron. I would say that my reaction was justified. I screamed. Loudly. Oh, and one more thing. Screaming, in a bed. When you are tied down, still broken. Hurts, a whole lot. My screams cut off pretty abruptly, turning into a sickening gurgling as I proceeded to throw up in my mouth. Not a good sign if you were to ask me.

"Ah, he awakens loudly! Showing off his lung capacity proudly." Exclaims a deep voice from outside the cottage I was currently confined in.

The memories of my nontraditional rescue crashed into my mind as I recall the voice of my rescuer. Considering my circumstances I decide to not answer, and rather analyze the situation that I currently find myself in. Okay, check list time. Step one, environment. As far as I can see, I'm tied to a bed inside a hut of some kind. There's shelves upon shelves of, and I hesitate to use this word. Potions. It's safe to say I have no experience with these kinds of situations. So, onwards to the next step.

Step two, mobility. From my vantage point I can't see much of my lower body. Considering the fact that I'm tied down to a bed, and I have blanket covering everything below my shoulders. Hm, well I can't move much. Let's see, experiment time. First off, Toes. Closing my eyes in concentration I try to wiggle my toes. Okay, that's discomforting. I can wiggle the toes on my right foot just fine, However, I can't seem to feel anything below my thigh on the left side. Oh shit. That ain't good at all. Swallowing lightly, I move the experiments further up my body. Okay, even if I'm constricted to this bed I seem to be able to move my right knee just fine, hurts like a mother but it moves. Next up would be the hips. Hey, the first good news in a while. They both seem to move without much difficulty. Not pain free, but nothing major. Going ever upwards I see that most of my upper body seem fine. A slight pain in the back, but it doesn't feel like anything critical. Let's see, here's the kicker though. My arms. Left side first. Woah, thank the gods. It seems my rescuer/BDSM enthusiast (what? He's got a broken dude tied up in his bed!) had relocated my shoulder. Can't move the arm much, but it works! Now, right side. Okay, shoulder works fine. Slight pain in the elbow, nothing too alarming. Ah crap. Of course the good news had to end. Everything below the wrist is immobilized, either he cut it off, and sedated me heavily. Or it's pretty tightly constricted for my own good. Either way, consider the state of this place and it's apparent lack of modern medicine, it doesn't bode well for me. Craning my neck, I realize that everything above my shoulders seem pretty damn unhurt. That's good at least.

Step three, planning my next move. How can I turn this disadvantageous situation into my favor? or at the very least keep up a status quo? There's little I can do exep- *Creeeak* Uh-Oh! Show time.

"Are you well my friend? The noises you made, suddenly did end." The burly voice once again sounded as the door to the hut opened. I was about to answer when my mouth shut hard at the sight that greeted me. There, in the doorway, was the cutest sight I've ever had the chance to see. A zebra foal, The little package of adorable on four legs was so cute, I was seconds away from d'awing to death at the shaman's apparent pet. Of course, that was until the hell spawn opened it's mouth and talked.

"You seem shocked to see me, I wonder what the cause of that might be." The zebra said, in the deep burly voice of my rescuer.

It took a few seconds before my mind reset itself to factory setting. When it did, it initiated red alert. Total sanity collapse imminent!

I looked at the zebra and went to my automatic reaction in unexpected situations. I smiled at it warmly. Then I screamed bloody murder. The next moments passed in a blur of movement, puke and pain. Because of my shocked reaction, the zebra in question tried to come closer, probably to check for damages or the like. My shattered mind did not like that much and I started thrashing around in my bindings. Not a good idea I know, but my mind was beyond logical reasoning at this point. The pain was the second worst I've had in my life, only beaten by having a pack of timber wolves land on my shattered knee topping it. The world spun as the pain peaked and I upended my relatively empty bowels on the hooves of the zebra which had at this point reached my bed.

~▲~

Oh for the love of-

I once again found myself waking up to the world of the living. This was becoming predictable. I was starting to think that I was more in a coma than awake at this point. Which now that I think about it, probably was true. The first thing that hit me as my consciousness reestablished itself, (you'll see the irony of that phrasing soon), was an earth shattering headache.

"I hope you will forgive me, but you forced my hoof you see." The deep voice resonated from behind the cauldron I noticed earlier. I stiffened, and closed my eyes tightly. Trying my best to keep my composure.

"I had to hit you over the head, to stop you from thrashing around in the bed." The voice sounded regretful, but firm. I opened my eyes slightly and looked over at the origin of the voice. Yep, sure enough. There was the zebra. Still adorable, but infinitely more scary now that I realized it was sentient.

"No harm done." I answer with a sigh. "You did what you thought best, and most likely saved me from a lot of grief. Thank you."

"So you seem to have manners about you, then I shall give that to you too." The zebra looked over to me with a smile gracing his mou- or would that be muzzle?

"My name you shall receive, for you deserve that much I believe.” The zebra said in it’s disturbingly deep voice, which by all rights did not suit a equine of his size.

“Allow me to guess” I say, efficiently cutting him off from continuing his introduction.

He looks at me bewildered for a moment, before smiling with amusement and beckoning me to continue with a hoof. Or at least, that’s what I think he meant with that waving motion.

“Your name rhymes with Zecora or something.” I say, with a tad sarcasm in my voice. I know, it’s kinda far fetched, but by now the crazy that was my reality had started to influence me enough to make me start taking things in stride.

The zebra lifted it’s... eyebrow? in a questioning manner before chuckling.

“Though close you are, it’s not quite right. There’s many a strange things I’ve experienced this night.” The zebra squinted it’s eyes in concentration, something which made me aware of the size of said eyes. They were huge. Like, too huge. There’s no way he has space for a brain behind those things. The eyes has to at least occupy fifty percent of his skull. I dismiss the notion for later speculation.

“My name is Zicoro, of the zebra kind, though your name my friend, does not spring to mind.” He looks at me... questioningly? I’m going to guess that’s what he meant by that expression. I’m not all that good at reading equine faces, even if they were disturbingly human expression wise.

“Eh, Yea. Name. Right... Ryan. Ryan Kent’s the name” I say, having to actually think about it for a second. Seems like the shock hasn’t gone away just yet. Couple that with being distracted by the massive balls of eye, that was half his face I'll say I'm justified in being a bit out of it.

"And an interesting name it is, now Ryan, I'll ask you to trust me with this." Zicoro said before heading towards my bed once more, with a potion in tow I noticed.

"I shall ask you to consume this drink, it should lessen the pain, and hasten your recovery I should think." Zicoro smiled at me before he moved the potion over my mouth, not pouring it. Just holding it over me, awaiting my permission. I look at him skeptically for a few seconds, before mentally shrugging and opening my mouth. I mean, he's for one asking for permission. Secondly he's had me tied up for a long while, having had the opportunity to do whatever he likes to me while I lay here passed out. Also, pissing off the guy who has you tied to a bed, and has struck you over the head once already didn't seem like such a great idea.

I was however not prepared for the taste of his conjured liquid of "shamanistic Doom" I mean, seriously. When you're tied to a bed, in a shaman hut god knows where. And said shamany person feeds you a potion that looks like green death on a bottle. You don't really expect it to taste of strawberries. It hit me as such a shock that I went into a coughing fit. Having the potion hit my air intake instead of my food pipe.

"Please, I know it must taste unexpected, but if you do not drink it, your wounds will not be corrected." Zicoro looks down at me disapprovingly. Indicating with a hoof towards my lower body.

*cough* "I apologize" *cough* "but, forgive me for asking. Why didn't you do that before, y'know when I was unconscious?" I try my best to quell my coughing fit, before continuing my intake of the potion now conveniently nicknamed "Green strawberry Death". Thinking about it, this would probably make for an interesting drink. Add about 70% alcohol, and absinthe would have a run for it's money. This potion probably would give you actual hallucinations too!

"The reason is simple, but embarrassing I confess. I've never seen a creature like you before, and didn't wish to cause you more distress." He looks over at me in what I guess is supposed to be an apologetic way.

"I need you awake to tell me 'beware', in case I should do anything wrong, that you are aware." He mumbles something under his breath, but it's much too low for me to notice. I just nod my head to him, already feeling the effects of "Green strawberry Death". It's starting off subtly, just a slight blurring off the edges of my vision. Then it really kicks off. I quickly notice that all the pain in my body fades away into nothing. Now that is intriguing. I doubt any modern medicine except at good dose of industrial strength morphine should be able to take away the pain completely. Meaning he's better than I assumed. Of course, I quickly realize why it's so effective. I can't move my body. Not one muscle. I've lost all feeling and all control. Zicoro looks down at me and notices my stillness before smirking. Ooh shit, oh fuck. This ain't good. Aah, nonononono. He wanted me aware all right. Just not able to do shit. Fuck my luck. Surviving an imminent death by hunger and pain, just to get raped by a fetishist shaman zebra. Whyyy!?

With a look on his face that I can only explain as smug, he opens his muzzle and says "It has kicked in I can tell, you should be able to move your eyes if all is well." He studies my face as I desperately try to move something, anything. Well, true as he says I can still move my eyes. Heck I can even open and close them.

"I can see the panic in your eyes. Good, that is a natural reaction, considering your circumstance and physical ties." He chuckles to himself as he moves in closer to me, his breath tickling my nose as he leans ever closer. Oh gawd, he's a sensual molester. Now comes the pity kissing and whispers of love and reassurances of how everything is going to be okay. Well, it's not like this is the first time I've been in a situation like this. I do apologize if I don't go into more detail than that, but it's neither important nor necessary. Safe to say, I have experience with being sexually used for another person's benefit, without my consent. Even my lungs are mildly constricted, so I can't take a deep breath by any means. I close my eyes and lower myself to the depths of my apathy. No need to embrace emotions in a situation like this.

I feel his hooves scoop me up in an embrace as he closes in for what I'm sure his troubled mind sees as a romantic kiss. I notice his breath run past my lips, and caress my ear instead. Eerie, it seems as if he's trying to push my buttons and get my body going. Irritatingly enough my ears are very erogenous for me, and highly sensitive. I feel his fur stroke my chin as he rests the side of his head to mine, still softly breathing in my ear. Starting off with a hug are we? Wow, you are one sappy rapist. I notice distinctly a shift in balance and can only assume he's shifting my body position.

His breath leaves my ear as I hear him move a little away from me. Followed by the distinct noise of my sheets being ever so softly dragged off my body. I sigh to myself as I realize he's going to take his sweet time and enjoy this as much as possible. Hopefully he's going to go out of his way to make this as enjoyable for me as he can. If he's going to use me for his sexual desires anyway I might as well try to enjoy myself as well. Sort of as a spit in his face/making the best of the situation. The fact that I can't feel anything strikes me again. Hm, I ain't going to feel anything anyway. Maybe I'll try going to sleep? Might as well try, not that I expect that I can. Considering my sleeping disorder and all.

"I need you to open your eyes for me, elsewise you can not of much help be." I mentally chuckle at that statement. As if I'm going to give him the pleasure of watching him do as he please. Keeping my eyes firmly shut I continue the futile act of trying to fall asleep.

"As far as I can see, there's not much I can do with my herbs, potions and tea." I hear him clopping up and down the length of the bed.

"Your wounds are very severe, that much is clear." Basing on the sounds of his hooves, he stopped his pacing. I open my eyes the tiniest fraction and see him looking at my lower body with a mixture of sorrow and worry. What? Is he worried about hurting me more? Well, considering his attitude so far I would guess it's natural for a deranged sensual molester to worry about such things.

"I'll do what I can before I need assistance, there's a hospital in Ponyville but that's quite a distance." He looks at me again, sighing in frustration.

"As far as I can see there's little I can do. You need more professional help than I can give with my brew." He starts pacing back and forth again. Mumbling to himself all the while. It starts dawning on me that he might actually not be trying to take advantage of my crippled but handsome body. Opening my eyes fully I realize he has shifted my body to an up sitting position so that I can fully see the extent of damage to my body. He has gotten my clothes off, which is good. That means I can see my mutilated body in all it's glory. The sight however is not a pretty one. I'm badly hurt. More so than I thought at first. Marks of having received a beating litter my body and puncture wounds are a more common sight than unhurt skin.

"I must get help, that much is clear. I'll be back as soon as I can, do not fear." Zicoro turns away and clops over to the other end of the room. He continue to mumble to himself as he pack his... Saddlebags? Well, I should have seen that coming. I've seen the show enough to know that it's the go-to tool for the ponies, whenever they need to carry extensive amounts of stuff. Turning towards me he waves his hoof before grabbing a ragged cloak.

"I shall make haste, lest the rest of the day go to waste. I'll be back, hopefully soon. Preferably before the rise of the moon. The forest is dangerous at night, and I do not want the doctors to refuse out of fright." He turns his back to me and trots off towards the door.

"Zicoro! Ya'll home?" Sounds a voice from outside the hut. My eyes dash between looking at the zebra in question and the door leading outside. Trying to gauge the reaction on Zicoro's face as well as seeing if the owner of the voice would be coming inside. To my relief, or is that worry? Zicoro smiled warmly before replying.

"At that I am young Applebuck, that you've come is a stroke of luck." Zicoro opened the door and moved out of the way for the unexpected guest. In came what my mind recognized as Applebloom, a filly from the show I watch. Processing... Oh right, I'm in Equestria. I guess that fact just hadn't hit me yet, even though it should considering Zecora + beard over there. That means, that either I've gone completely nuts, or I really am inside a cartoon for little girls. Considering alternate dimension theory and multiple planes of existence to be real, it isn't that farfetched. However it's a huge improbability to be thrown into something this "close" to my own, let's call it dimension for simplicity's sake. So at this point I'm leaning more towards being drugged more out of my skull than a hippie at a festival. Probable situation; I'm in the hospital in a drug induced coma, a veeery trippy coma, but I digress. Other plausible situation, I'm still in the flowerbed thingy high off my nutter from consuming a bunch of flowers. Ah well, little I can do then enjoy the ride and hang on for dear life. Let's recap what I know about this little fever fantasy of mine, shall we?

Well, so far there seems to be fundamental differences between the Equestria I knew, and this one. First off, this version doesn't seem to have dangerous poison joke, even if Zicoro seemed wary of touching them. Superstition? Or do I have a natural immunity? Secondly, Zicoro is a male here. Aaand considering that Applebloom over there is called Applebuck and is wearing a red cap, not a bow. I can only assume that she's a he too. Oh well, let's just see how this goes.

"Long time no see, Zicoro! Ah've not seen ya'll in ages!" The little colt piped up after coming inside. Looking up at Zicoro with a beaming smile.

"How 'ave ya'll bee-" Appleblo-buck. Applebuck, stopped mid sentence when he noticed me, propped up for all the world to see. No longer tied to a bed sure, but still naked in a sitting position and unable to move. Well, that's gotta be awkward for him.

"What is that?" Applebuck asked the zebra with a shocked, and even a little frightened voice. The Zebra chuckled at the colt's worried expression.

"That is a creature that I saved last night. He was in the forest, looking as if he had lost a fight." The zebra answered merrily. Yes, by all means. It's not like I was dying or anything. The young colt looked towards me uneasily.

"What is it? Can ah touch it?" Aah, childish innocence and curiosity. How refreshingly foolish. Go right ahead, touch the bipedal creature that's almost three times your size and badly hurt, it's not like it might lash out in self defence or anything.

Zicoro surprisingly nodded and indicated towards me with a hoof. Oh, so I've become an exhibit have I? Very well, not much I can do about it at this point. The young colt dashed towards me at speeds that, quite frankly broke a few physical laws.

"Zicoro! It looks hurt! Is it gonna be okay?" The colt said looking back at the zebra. He just told you he rescued me in the Everfree, looking as if I've lost a fight. What did you expect? A black eye?

"Hopefully so little one, but to Ponyville to get help I must run." He indicated towards his traveling cloak with his hoof.

"Can I ask you to watch him while I'm gone? He's paralysed and can do no harm until dawn" The zebra smiled before continuing.

"He's also a kind soul, even if he sometimes acts as a foal!" He said pointedly staring at me. Kind soul eh? Interesting. The zebra chuckles as I narrow my eyes at him. Applebucks eyes widen to the size of saucers as he nods his head vigorously, all the while grinning like a fool. Guess I could have worse caretakers. As I think this my thoughts are interrupted by a cheer so loud and sudden, I surely would have bitten off my tongue in surprise if I could move.

"Cutie Mark Crusaders: Critter caretaker! Yay!" Applebuck shouts out before looking around himself in anticipation. Only to realize that the rest of little club wasn't there to join him. Had I more of a heart it would have broken at the crestfallen look on the little colts face. It was enough to make me forgive him for calling me a critter.

"Aww, I wish the rest of the guys were here." Zicoro chuckled at that before once more heading towards the door.

"Well, I better be on my way. If I wish to back with a doctor before the end of the day!" Leaving us with that remark he trotted his merry way, leaving me alone with the now slightly depressed colt. Scratch that, now over eager colt would be a more correct statement. The speed of his mood swings was enough to leave me dizzy.

"Well, ah better make sure it's comfortable!" He beamed at me before trotting over. The distinct chill running down my spine can only mean that my body is as aware of the potential danger I am in, as I am. This can only end in tears. Most likely mine. In lack of a better way to phrase it. I'm fucked.

~▲~

Please, whatever entity that can hear me. Don't make me wake up again. I don't want to see that again. Please, just... I'll do anything. Pleaaase! Ah fuck...

Waking up the first thing my mind registers is a sound it could not place. I quickly realized that what I was hearing had to be Applebuck, as it was distinctly his voice. He sounded like he was chanting something to himself over and over, it was hard to hear exactly what he said, considering that he was sobbing continuously throughout the ordeal.

"Oh no, oh no. *sob* ah'm sorry! *sob* oh no, oh no. *sob* ah didn't mean it! *sob* oh no." The little colt kept talking to himself, barely audible. Looking down at myself I realize what happened earlier.

~▲~

"Maybe ah can get my cutie mark in fixin' up critters like Fluttershy?" The colt/doomsday device lingered ever closer. It proceeded to actually poke the bone pointing out of my kneecap. Seriously. He took his hoof and fucking poked the bone. Reflect on that for a moment. What, in the name of all that is fucking holy. Would drive a little colt to poke a bone sticking out of a creature he's never seen before's body? I got no answer for you. None, what so ever. What he did next however was worse. Oh dear god was it worse.

"Hmm, that don't seem right." Naah? Really Einstein?

"Ah reckon that's why his leg is bent such a weird way." Exactly, now if you would just... Wait, bent? That's not bent the wrong... Oh no. Nonononono! No fucking way! He's not thinking my legs are supposed to be like his? I'm bipedal for god's sake! Wait! Nono, don't do that! Noooooo!

*craaaaaaack*

A sickening crunch sounds as he take my mutilated knee and tries to "correct" it's placement. Now, I'm still under the influence of "Green Strawberry Death" so by all rights I should not have felt that. I did feel that. Oh ye god’s did I feel that! The last thing I see before I kiss reality goodbye is my left foot in a disturbingly wrong angle and blood oozing from it. Rapidly. I'm pretty sure that even in my paralyzed state I was foaming around the mouth pretty impressively.

~▲~

So here I am, bleeding out in a bed. Help on the way. Most likely not near close enough though. With a colt going through what is probably going to be the most traumatic experience of his life. He's desperately trying to do something, anything to stop the bleeding. I notice he ripped the bandage from my right hand to try to use that to stop the bleeding. Leaving my fingers in an awkward position, some of them bleeding slightly. Fuck. Had I at the very least been able to talk I could tell the little piece of destruction that I didn't blame him. Might have saved him some pain later in life. Fuck, I woulda given him a hug and told him everything was going to be okay. Well, then again. If I could do that I probably could have stopped my own bleeding much more efficiently than he did.

Well that's it ladies and gentlemen. That's how I died. Lying bleeding in a bed with my leg looking as if it changed it's dayjob from being a balancing limb to become a balloon animal, you know. The complex ones. I don't really have any regrets. It's too bad I get to know what lies in the great beyond ( you know, nothing at all ) so soon, I really did want to find out more about the world of the living. For one thing. I had the desire to become a father. To raise my own little piece of doom. In hindsight, I probably would have taught the little bugger not to fuck with the bones of creatures he hasn't seen before. Ah well, nothing more to do here. Time to kiss life goodbye and either disappear forever, or punch God in the face. Then again I always was a great fan of Wyrd and rebirth. One can only dream I guess.

"Ah'm so'ho'ohry!" The little colt still sat crying his eyes out. It was becoming frustrating really. I really did want to tell him I didn't blame him, that he shouldn't feel guilty. Then again, the apologizing might be directed towards Zicoro, since it was never explained to poor Applebuck here how I'm actually sentient. I hope Zicoro isn't going to be too hard on him. He's suffering enough already. It would be a shame really, having the kid chewed out when he's this traumatized. Oddly enough I haven't passed out from bloodloss yet. All things considered I should be duking it out with death right about now.

"It was a good thing I met you on the way, if you help now, we might save the day" Zicoro's voice drifted into the hut, seemingly still a ways away. Oh would you look at that. Seems he met a doctor on his way. Isn't that lucky. Just as I was beginning to think I was finally going to die too. Hearing the voice outside Applebuck jumped to his hooves and ran outside.

"Oh it's no problem Zicoro, I'm glad I can be of assistance." A new voice sounded. A male voice to be sure, though he sounds young. Hm.

"Zicoro! Zicoro *sob* come 'uick. Ah don't know what ah did wrong! *sob* but it's 'urt" Applebuck's voice rang out the moment he got outside.

The sound of frantic hoofbeats sounds out as Zicoro plus one undoubtedly set up the pace to see what's wrong. Oh dear, this isn't going to be pretty.

"What's the matter young one? What is it that you have done?" Zicoro surprisingly sounded more distressed than angry at the little colt.

"Ah*sob* ah just wanted to fix his leg!" I swear, I could hear his eyes widening.

Zicoro, Applebloom and the extra pony burst through the front door, almost blowing the poor thing off it's hinges. I can only guess that the collective loud gasp means that it looks pretty bad. Well considering how my foot looks right now and the fact that I've bled enough for the pool to have accumulated to the point where it's dripping down from the mattress onto the floor. Once again, I wonder why the fuck I ain't dead yet. If Zicoro's eyes open any wider I fear they might pop out of his skull. The newcomer, whom I recognise a bit too easily as a male Twilight Sparkle is turning a pretty disturbing green color. No seriously, he's covered in fur. How the fuck is that color change possible. Oh great, my would be saviour is currently puking at Zicoro's doorstep. Great. Things are looking good for me. Poor Applebuck is currently on the floor crying his little eyes out, hooves covering his head. I look back down at my battered body to consider whether or not it really is bad enough to make them lose all thought about actually saving my dying ass. Bad idea. Oh dear God bad idea. My foot is... *urp* wow, I actually managed to throw up in my mouth. Considering the muscles in charge of that should be heavily paralyzed that's an impressive feat. Oh dear, seems I'm slipping away again. Hopefully the good shaman and his number one assistant will stop their collective lack of productivity and save my ass.

~▲~

Ok, so it seems I'm waking up from yet another faint, meaning I ain't dead yet, that's good at least

"WE NEED TO STOP THE BLEEDING!" One of the voices scream close to my ears.

"Ah'm Sooohorory" cries another from a little distance away.

"I DO NOT HAVE THE TOOLS FOR SUCH A THING! YOU MUST TO PONYVILLE HIM BRING!" Shouts a last voice, still with the fucking rhymes I hear. Oh, I'm slipping again...

~▲~

Now, I would have loved to tell you all about what happens next, thing is. I got no idea, I'm at this point slipping in and out of consciousness so fast I never know when I'm awake or not.

"STAND BACK! A TELEPORTATION SPELL OF THIS MAGNITUDE AND STRENGTH IS HIGHLY UNSTABLE!"

~▲~

... "METHINGS WRONG! I CAN'T GET A GRIP, I'M LOSING CONTROL!" The voice seems to fade away slightly as I feel pressure on me from all sides, it's a peculiar feeling really. The closest comparison I can think of is like being squeezed through a elastic rubber tube. The sensation feels like it's threatening to crush my bones further before it disappears entirely with a loud suction pop noise.

Opening my eyes, I notice I'm several feet in the air, above a bunch of trees. In the distance I notice a charming collection of houses and such. Most likely Ponyville. I also notice I seem to be at the very edge of the forest. Hearing the screaming sound of wind ripping through my ears reminds me of the situation I am in, before I get the dreaded sense of deja vu. *Crack* *Riiiip* *Smack*... Fuck my life.

~▲~

"Oh sweet Solaris! How is it alive?"...

~▲~

"Hurry! We got a critical..."

~▲~

"Where's the results of the blood test!? It needs a transfusion stat!"

~▲~

"We're losing him! Charge!" *Ba-Thunk*

~▲~

"... Condition stable for now, curious case. Never before seen anatomy, blood type indiscernible, but compatible with our most common blood type..."

~▲~

Opening my eyes blearily I see myself lying on what must be an operational table. I see a swarm off ponies clad in scrubs and masks, plus the male Twilight Sparkle looking at me with a dangerous glint in his eyes. I notice my chest being covered in a greenish type of cover, with a hole around the lung area. Oh god, they're cutting me open!

The last thing I hear before once again slip into unconsciousness is the doctors talking to eachother about publishing great works and the male Twilight Sparkle saying "For great science!" Oh, fuck!

Acceptance

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Acceptance

Ah, acceptance. The very definition of taking a situation that boggles the mind, that makes your perception of reality reveal itself as false, and force yourself to bend to it's will, or break under it's pressure.

Seriously though. What is acceptance? I mean, true acceptance. Is it the ability to understand that some things in life are simply what they are? Is it the power to let go of foolish dreams and, excuse the expression, grow the fuck up? Or is it to embrace ignorance? To say that, nope humans can't fly. We accept that. And because of that we neglect research and remain grounded?

I think acceptance is equivalent to quitting. You meet an obstacle you can't overcome, so you accept that fact and stop progressing. It is in my opinion the most foolish action one can take. If you accept that some things "just are" then you will never understand why. And that is not fucking ok. If we don't progress we will dwindle away and die. Having left nothing for future generations to benefit from us. Someone once asked me. Why do you care what the future generations get? You are going to be dead anyway, what's it to you? Truthfully? Sure that's true enough, but I've gotten to live a life of technological luxury because of those before me, why should I not strive to do so for those who come after me. Especially considering that I get to learn and progress by doing so. Ah, but I digress.

Sometimes. Just sometimes, even I’ve got to admit defeat. I have to embrace the fact that some things are so far beyond me both in my understanding of reality and technology that I can't hope to understand it in my lifetime, and hence forth should pursue other problems so that I can make the most difference in my life as possible. Sometimes I’ve just gotta accept that I’ve got no possible way to get answers. One of those things are magic. Seriously, how the fuck does that work? It's so wrong on so many levels that it makes me embrace the fact that I am woefully ignorant at so much.

So this is me, accepting the fact that I can't ever fucking understand why or how I got sent to this place. Let's just hope I survive this. If anything, it'll be an epic tale to tell the grandkids. Y'know, while my children put me in daycare for babbling away about magic ponies in my senile state.

~▲~

*bleep* ... Now that is curious, what was that?

*bleep* ... Once more, something is cutting through the darkness. My rest is over it seems, death has an end?

*bleep* ... *bleep* ... *bleep* Seriously. That was starting to get on my nerves. Hm, that's curious. Why did it annoy me so? Few things ever affect me enough to engage on my emotional spectrum.

*bleeeeeep* ... *bleep* ... *bleep* .. *bleep* . *bleep* *bleep* *bleep* Oh for the love of god why won't that infernal noise stop!?

"So how are you today Mr. Unknown creature? Feeli- what in name of Solaris himself? Has the heart monitor gone haywire?" A voice in the darkness pushes me from back to existence as I'm greeted by flashes of images and lights and I once more embrace consciousness.

*groan* Oh dear god, I'm stiff as all hell. I feel like shit too. Cracking my eyes open, light floods my world and my head spins in response. It's as if my senses can't keep up with the information it's receiving and gives me the backlash of a lifetime for trying to comprehend it.

"Oh dear me! It's waking up!" As I try to make sense of all my five or so senses, the distinct sound of hooves approach my bed and I seem to pick up on a 'click' noise. After which it becomes eerily quiet. As if the other person in the room was holding their breath. From some distance away I was able to hear crashing sounds and a collection of shouts coupled with the noise of wheels rapidly rolling over hard floor. Well, sense of listening seems to be A'OK. Moving on, sense of taste? Hm, the distinct taste of sleeping waaay to long. Guess that ones up and going too. Smell? Aah, now that's a hospital smell if I ever knew one. Sterile to a fault. Touch is up next, and that seems to work plenty fine if the feel of sheets is anything to go by, also feels like I'm lying in commando here.

*CRASH*

Youch! My poor ears, sounds like someone had a grudge against the poor entrance to this chamber. Let's see. Literally. Cracking open my eyes I see I'm lying in a hospital bed, also seems like I'm surrounded by tiny equines. Again. I'm at a loss here. Am I drugged out of my skull still? Or have I gotten myself such a crack in the skull that I permanently see other people as tiny, colorful horses? Being in Equestria seems to be the most agreeable answer but it's logically improbable to such a high degree that I just can't get behind that idea.

"Nurse! What is the meaning of the emergency call? It's vitals are registering fine!" One of the older looking ponies was staring down another pony harshly. It's probably pretty intimidating for others of it's kind. For me? It's actually sort of adorable.

"It's awake! Look at it!" The nurse was waving his hoof in my general direction. The doctor in question rolled her eyes before speaking up.

"The subject has been in a persistent vegetative state for an extended duration with no sign of changes in its condition. Which means nurse. That it's dead to the world, and a taxing of resources which by all rights should have been terminated long ago had it not been for the direct interjection of the Prince himself and his protegee. Why they persist in their belief that the subject is ever going to wake up is beyond me, and quite frankly beyond medicine as we know it!" The doctor punctuated her sentence by smacking down her hoof harshly. Poor nurse, he must be so distressed, guess I'll come to his rescue.

"And you presume to know more than your benevolent ruler himself? You dare think that your measly lifetime of study overcomes his millennia of experience and exceedingly superior intellect? The reason, my good doctor. That the prince had for believing in my awakening was the fact that he understood my species superior will to live and in our ability to spit death in the face. Or something along those lines." At this point the doctor, and company. Have, after having had the most impressive head snap in my direction, become more and more distressed. Why I can't really say, but I guess it has something to do with my knowledge of their prince.

"It can talk!? IT'S SENTIENT!?" Oh, um. Didn't really see that one coming. I thought the clothes would be a great tell. Guess not huh?

"That babbling zebra was telling the truth?" Ok, now that was just plain rude. He had a verbal tic, that doesn't mean he's babbling.

"Of course the zebra spoke the truth! What do ya think he does out in the everfree all the time? Eat mushrooms and talk to shadows? He's an intellectual gentlema- uhurm, gentlezebra and should be treated as such! As for his speech? It showcases his superior intellect as well as his feel for rhythm and flow. He is, as far as I can see. Supremely superior to your own self and you should swallow your pride and learn from the example he sets for others! God's know you need to learn some humility." I try to gesticulate with my right arm, only to realize it's been strapped to the bed. Oh geez. This is becoming predictable. Why tie down a comatose patient anyway? It's not like they believed that I would be running around causing mischief anyway. Testing the bonds I find myself strapped down tight. Heck, they even had a collar on my neck with a loose chain. Meaning I could move my head, but little else.

"Oh no! It's trying to get loose! Secure those bindings! Somebody get the local guard! Notify the prince! It's going to eat us all! Aaaah!" The plethora of ponies in the room suddenly break out in panic and starts running around in an organized panic. Y'know, that or they are all imitating headless chickens. It's actually quite entertaining to watch. The only one in the room that has a semblance of calm about them is the nurse who got yelled at. Sure, he's shaking like a leaf the poor dear, but he's not running around yelling his head off. He's actually coming towards my bed, huh. What's he got there? Oh fuck no! Needle! Shit, no! Get it away, get it the Fuck away from me! I ain't havin’ shit to do with that thing!

"No you fucking don't! Take that piece of shit away from me! Seriously! Fuck off! I'll slaughter you! You hear me!? I'll string you upside down and eat your intestines! Don't you fucking dare!" In between my infuriated shouts of murder, the nurse had gotten to the side of my bed and injected the needle in an IV that goes into my arm. I never realized I had an IV. Oh god! It's inside my arm! Get it out! Get it... Out... Of.......

~▲~

I dislike phobias. Seriously. It's the absolute worst way to lose control of oneself. In one moment you're in complete control of yourself and your emotions, the next you're thrashing around, having trouble breathing and swearing death and pain on anything that has to do with your phobia. Needless to say. I. Hate. Needles. Dunno why. Always have been that way, think it's got something to do with blood tests early in my life, I went through a whole lot of them. They never found out that my problems came from IBS. Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Or what I like to call, Internal BullShit. It's details are unnecessary to inform you about, but safe to say you can translate it to; your bowels hate you. And like to show that hate a lot.

I also have a slight phobia for heights. And worst of all, my claustrophobia. The fear of tight spaces, no escape. I pride myself in overcoming that particular one though. If I notice I'm in a claustrophobic situation, I force my mind into analyze mode. That way I distract myself enough to usually find a way out of the situation before my mind shuts down and splinters and blood starts flying. Believe me, you don't want to stand close to a person having a claustrophobic fit! Imagine this if you will. A child of 7 years, inside a computer room. The room has been through renovations, so the door handle is loose. Now imagine the kid rips the handle off the door by accident and the opening pin falls out on the other side. No way out. The parents starts hearing incredibly loud banging noises from said room, one floor above them. The parents run up to see what's going on, after all it sounds like someones trying to demolish the house. They find the door closed, with the opening pin on the floor. Upon opening the door, they find the child holding a two seater couch over his head and dropping it on the floor. This is a process the child has done multiple times, to signal it's parents of it's distress. Yeah, that child was me. The story had happened before my parents divorced early in my life. It was the worst claustrophobic fit I've had in my life. A sensation I wish to not repeat.

I've told you all this because I wish for you to understand why I threatened a poor nurse's life. Especially considering the fact that he was already scared of me, and only trying to do his job. I did not wish to inflict discomfort on him, but because of a phobia I did. Hopefully, this will not cause consequences for me later on. Oh who am I kidding? Course it is going to bite me in the ass.

~▲~

I feel a slight numbness as I awake once more to a world that is not my own. It's as if my entire body is so used to it's hibernation that it has problems functioning as it should.

*groan* Damn, it's like waking up to the worst hangover ever. Head spinning, stomach threatening to take shore leave and my entire body screams at me to fuck this and go back to sleep. No more though, I've been helpless for too long. Time to get my bearings and get control over my situation again.

"Somebody get the prince! It's waking up." A voice sounded out in the room. Seems like ‘Doctor Self Righteous’ babysat me while I was out. Wait a minute? The prince? Oh shit. Not good, I was hoping to avoid meeting the "last boss" if I could. This is not how this should have played out at all. Ok, deep breaths. Collect your mind.

Scenario? Tied to a hospital bed. With a demigod on the way to engage me. Complications? Tied to a bed as earlier mentioned. They know I'm sentient, they also know I know about both the Everfree forest and the prince and his longevity. Top that off with screaming death and torture threats to a staff member of the hospital that has taken care of me. Solutions? Flee? No, most likely a very bad option. Considering the difficulty of the task, the complications it will create and the improbability of getting far. Flying and teleporting horses ain't easy to shake off I imagine. Violence? Nope, will get me in an early grave. The prince being here made sure of that. Cheating powerhouse. Diplomacy? Only feasible solution except maybe deceit. Deceit however has too many complications if it fails. Can't take that chance. Best chance for self preservation then lies with my ability to talk my way out of shit. Crud. I usually talk my way into shit, not the other way around. This is going to be interesting.

I lie in bed watching the doctor as she paces back and forth looking at me all the while. From her flittering gaze and nervous mumblings I can only assume she's shit ass scared of me. Not good, not even a little bit. Instill fear in someone and you got violent reactions just around the corner. Especially considering my vulnerable position. Oh hey would you look at that, royal guards. Holy shit! There's tons of them. It's fascinating how well disciplined they are, they move in one by one and line up in a sort of horseshoe formation in the room, with a big gap right at the door. Right, so that's the royal position I take it. And wouldn't you know it, here's the prince himself in all his royal glory. He's pure white with a mane that looks like fire, if fire could exist as fog. whoa, that's actually all kinds of badass. The prince also has a beard that has been styled to perfection, giving him royal airs, but not making him look old. While the beard looks much more solid than the mane, I notice it's also made up of this "fog fire" that the mane is. My first reaction is simple, I gasp. He's huge! Now that I mention it, all these little ponies are actually taller than I gave them credit for. They probably reach my shoulder in height when they stand rigid like those guards do. And considering my height that's impressive.

The solar demigod looks down upon me with a perfectly bland expression, almost like he's bored. Heh, oh he's good all right. I smirk up at him, kinda my way of saying 'I know what you're up too'. His eyes widen a mere fraction and settle there as if that's the way they always were. Oh damn, he's good indeed.

"So you are finally awake? How are you feeling?" I know this prince as Celestia, the solar goddess. I wonder what his name is now? Celestim? Nah that's silly. I notice that while I'm musing he's carefully studying my face, patiently waiting for an answer. An answer to a question that totally flew over my mind in my observational state.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't quite catch that question, you see I am having some trouble keeping my calm at the moment, seeing as I am tied to a bed with an IV stuck to my arm and that's combining two of my worst fears in the world in one goody pack of badness that envelops my rationality and plunges me into the depths of despair so I must maintain a very strict control over what I think and why, because if I don't I'm going to become very unruly and then nothing productive will come out of this meeting and it'll most likely lead to a poor first impression, which" *gaaaaaasp!* I pull in a very panicky breath as the last shreds of my self control starts crumbling from my contracting muscles rubbing against my IV and bindings.

"Which means, that most likely my chances for self preservation are going down the more I find myself in this situation and please for the love of all that is good get that IV out of me and remove my bindings! I *gasp* Can't *gasp* Breathe! Please!" *gasp*

The prince had not changed his demeanor in the slightest during my rant, nor my evident crash into a full fledged panic attack. Why didn't he do anything? I had tried my best to explain why I did what I did earlier, and why it would be the most feasible for both of us if I was not bound. After all, he would get little information out of me if I was frothing about the mouth in a crazed state. No seriously why the fuck isn't he doing anything!? I'm freaking out over here? What the hell is wrong with him? Isn't he supposed to be the good guy?

"For Fuck's sake! *gasp* Let me out! *gasp* Please! *gasp* Why are you *gasp* hesitating? Is this some *gasp* sort of torture? *gasp* what's the *gasp* purpose of this? *gasp* damn you! *gasp* don't ignore my *gasp* pain! Rarg! *gasp* I'll rip free! *gasp* And when I do *gasp* you'll pay *gasp* for your *gasp* sadistic pleasure! *gasp*

The prince, seemingly unaffected by my threats and accusations motions to one of the guards. The female royal guard walks over to my bed and rips the IV out of my arm with a slight tug on it with her magic. Before she proceeds to open all my bindings at once. The instant I'm loose I fling myself out of bed and huddle up in the back corner of the room, breathing heavily. Must regain control. Steady. Steady damn you! There we go. Phew. Ok.

"Are you well?" The royal dickhead asks me without changing his expression, even slightly. Or maybe he did, I wouldn't really know. I'm not really in the presence of mind to tell at the moment.

"Oh yes, just peachy. I just had to endure two different phobias crashing into me at the same time while having a royal douche bag get off on my pain." I'm sitting with my head between my knees desperately trying to control my breathing at this point. Before he can answer me I speak up once more.

"I'm very sorry, that was terribly judgemental of me, I plead you understand where I'm coming from with this and take no offense of any harsh comments I might say. I'm not having the best wake up call." Getting myself under total control I get back up to my feet and lean against the wall. I once again stare at the prince. I'll be damned if I let him have all the advantages.

"Under the circumstances it is understandable. As I am sure you understand my need to make sure you are no threat?" He asks this pointedly, all the while reading my face for any tells I might have. I subtly raise my left eyebrow before answering his question.

"Of course! I would hold it against you if you didn't. Might I ask who I have the pleasure of talking to?" I indicate with my hand that it's his turn to talk. Hmm, curious. My body is completely fine? Must have healed me with magic while I was out. Well, not fully healed it seems. My left foot is acting really weird, hm it's not listening to my commands much at all. Seems that for all intents and purposes it's still fucked. I can barely use it to stand on, and I'm using a wall for support.

"I was lead to believe you already knew me?" His eyes narrow threateningly, as if promising retribution for any lies I might send his way. Well, deceit is definitely out of the question! However I'm not showing all my cards this early in the game.

"Of course I know the deity of the sun, one would have to be a fool not to. That does not mean I know your name nor 'you' as a perso-err pony. Hence why I ask. If I am to talk to you over an extended period of time, it would be very tedious to keep calling you the sun deity or something along those lines." I try for a warm smile his way. His reaction is not favorable. His eyes first widen a fraction at the 'deity' part, but narrows again when I go for the smile.

"You must truly be from a far off land if you think of me as a deity. I am no such thing. I am an alicorn, nothing more." He says this with a hint of humor tracing his voice. Hm, so they are not considered godly at all huh? Good to know.

"Ah yes I am from quite a distance away, my country has not had contact with pony kind in ages." I say this offhandedly to try to make light of it, as if it's common knowledge. Uh-oh. He's eyebrows has knitted down. Not good.

"Really now? I truly believed I had seen or met all creatures in the world at this point, I can however say with certainty that I've never met one of your kind before. And I know all countries in the world." He's giving me the death glare now. That’s not good, that’s not good at all. In fact, that’s very fucking bad.

“Ok! I can see I’ve made a truly poor first impression. For that I can only apologize. I will from this point on be entirely honest. However I must warn you that there are some questions I can not answer at this point in time. Some of the information I’ll be giving out is highly sensitive. As in, National Security sensitive.” I say this in such a way as to seem as professional as possible. Good thing I’ve seen a good deal of spy movies and TV shows. You kinda pick up on a good stereotype attitude for these kinds of situations. Hopefully, it will work as intended.

The prince scrutinized me with his eyes for a few moments in silence before commenting.

“So you admit that so far you have not been truthful and have in fact been withholding information vital to the safety to my kingdom? I advise you to be very careful with your next few choice words. If not I can not promise that your safety can be guaranteed. In fact, I can promise it will be highly threatened. Do I make myself clear?” He gave me a stare that I’m pretty sure is the kind of look he gives the sun each sunrise to establish his dominance over it. No seriously, when magic is a factor I’m pretty sure the phrase ‘looks can kill’ might just be literal in this world. And the look he gave me now could probably cause global warming and make mountains level themselves in apology for blocking the view. The Stare got nothing on this shit. Or at least the show's depiction of it. If The Stare was worse than this then it was no wonder that Fluttershy brought a dragon to submission.

“When you put it that way you make it sound as if I didn’t have a good reasoning behind my choice. I was withholding information for the specific purpose of ensuring the safety to your kingdom. I will explain everything. The question however is whether or not you deem this location to be a good spot for such information to the shared, and excuse me, for the people present to be trusted enough to hear it?” I look over at the doctor in the room and the curious nurses and interns looking in at the room from the hallway entrance. I return my gaze to the prince, trying my hardest to keep a diplomatic stillness to it while at the same time showing that I was not asking for a change of scenery. I was demanding it. It is critical that I make sure the prince starts to treat this as a diplomatic situation. Not as a first contact with an unknown beast. I must establish a sort of safety net for myself. This could go very bad very quickly if I did not.

“Delaying for time will not help you. I will however humor you, Guards! Escort the ‘patient’ to the castle. He shall be put in the interrogation chamber for questioning. Until then he shall not have any contact to anypony else than me or someone bearing my official decree. He is not to be fed nor accommodated in anyway. Consider him a class Manticore threat and treat him as such.” The prince strode out of the room and vanished around the corner. Well fuck. I’ve pissed off the one pony in this place that actually could ensure my safety. And in the show Celestia seemed like such a swell ruler. If you disbelieved the manipulative sociopath rumors that the Internet was casting her in. Maybe the testosterone was the defining factor? Hm, Equestria the military superpower. Now that’s a scary, and quite frankly adorable thought.

The guards milled around me and started to lead me out of my room and towards my inevitable doom. Well, that might be a bit melodramatic, but do you blame me? A pony powerful enough to fucking move the sun was pissed at me and going to question me. I wonder if class Manticore threat makes me the equivalent to an actual manticore in danger. If so, I’m flattered. I would probably not last long in a fight with a normal pony, much less a manticore. I’m going to chalk that up to them knowing so little about humans.

~▲~

Hours. That’s how long I’ve been sitting in this god forsaken room. It’s such a fucking stereotypical interrogation room that I would have found it hilarious. Had it not been for the fact that my continued survival was to be determined in this room, I would have enjoyed every second of this. Threat of death is a good mood dampener though.

The fact that the good prince hasn’t shown up for my questioning is both a good and bad sign. Good parts, he’s not considering me so worth his time that he’ll get things over with straight away. Meaning I’m not considered much of a threat. Bad? It means he does not believe that anything I know can be considered classified as National Security. Also, it means he’s at least as good at the mind games as I’ve been giving him credit for. Allowing my own paranoid mind to cook up what’s going to happen to me as I sit here in solitude. Presumably he’s on the other side of the one way mirror that decorates one of the walls of the room.

I’m chained to a table in the middle of the room. The table is bolted to the floor, and I’m seated on an oversized bench, that is in width not height. It’s height is so minimal that I’m almost better of sitting on the floor. I’m practically sitting on a pillow set on the ground. The entire room is gray and there’s only the bench and the table in it. The walls are bare and there’s only one exit.

The trip up here was uneventful at least. I was led out of the hospital and promptly put into a carriage and thrown in here. I was lead into the castle by a side entrance, probably the soldier entrance. Quite efficient actually, I was not seen by a single pony on the way to the castle. I also realized that the hospital I had been stationed in was in Canterlot. Not Ponyville as I had assumed. I guess that they transferred me sometime during my comatose state.

*creeek* I look over to the only door leading in and out of the room as it opens. It’s a generic royal guard. Female it seems, based on the rounded nose and the extremely feminine eyes. Everything in this world seems to be over exaggerated to a fault. It’s a bit too easy to read expressions now that I’ve gotten a tad more used to the equines body language. The stoic look on the guards face is impressive to be sure, but it’s a bit too easy to read the emotions in her eyes. Curious, in my world people could at least hide their feelings if they tried. It seems like that’s not the case here, as this is a highly trained soldier. And I got barely any experience with reading their faces. She’s afraid. That much I can see, though for some reason it doesn’t seem to be me she’s afraid of. Interesting indeed. Now what could make a royal guard afraid in the depths of their own stronghold. Considering it’s not me, I can only assume that the solar prince is pissed. And it’s showing, a lot. If that is true then I’m in deep shit. The royal guard assumes position inside the room and hold the door open for someone else.

Queue shock! In comes, not the solar prince as I expected. Rather his brother, and ruler of the night. What the actual fuck? Why would the prince of night come see me? Has the solar prince gone to bed? What’s the clock anyway? Curse this room, I have no idea what time it is. It could be a ploy to throw me off my game, a chance for them to gain an advantageous position on me. As if holding me in the middle of their fortress with promises of being punished severely if I misbehave wasn’t a game ender in and on itself.

Seriously, I’m so fucked I can’t find the right words to describe it. What the fuck am I supposed to do to get out of this situation. Think, what can I do to get a favorable situation out of this? I must make them understand that I am neither a threat nor crazy. Fuck. If I’m forced to tell them I know them from a television show I’m screwed. And they already know that I know too much for just a simple alien. This is a very bad position for me. I must establish a status quo as fast as possible, but to do so I need information.

“Ah, it’s the night weaver. An honor! Now if you would be so very kind as to release my shackles, you would have my eternal gratitude.” I look over at him with an easy smile on my lips. He simply stands there. Um, that’s not good? Ok, let’s just not do anything. Mayhaps I can keep myself from getting into more trouble if I just shut up.

*click* During my internal musing the lunar prince had light up his horn and removed my shackles. All the while simply watching me, not moving nor saying anything.

… This silence is getting uncomfortable. I gotta say something.

“Much appreciated preserver of dreams. For what do I owe this pleasure?” I’m currently sitting on the bench, facing him and rubbing my sore wrists. My brain is working overdrive and exhaustion is baring down at me like all seven hells. Keeping myself stable during unforeseen circumstances where I have no control is taxing to say the least.

“THERE IS NO PLEASURE IN THIS CIRCUMSTANCE! AS WE UNDERSTAND IT THOU HAST THREATENED EQUESTRIA’S SAFETY AND MUST BE DEALT WITH! THOU STAND ACCUSED! DOEST THOU ACKNOWLEDGE THIS?” The royal Canterlot voice reverberated throughout the room and caused my ears to ring in pain. Seriously, the show was incredibly censored at some points. That voice was terrifying. Not to mention loud! If my ears have not gained some permanent damage from this I’ll be positively surprised.

“I acknowledge the accusation and I plead innocence. I have not threatened Equestria, simply informed of a threat to it. I also would like to point out that I in am in no way connected to this threat!” I try once more to go the diplomatic route. Hoping that I don’t fuck it up... Again. The lunar prince looks down upon me with a look that seems, I dunno actually. Curious? Confounded? Disapproving? I got no idea. Oh shit, he’s about to open his mouth!

“WAIT! Please! For the love of all that is good in the world! Don’t verbally blast me with your sonic weapon of mass destruction, otherwise known as the royal canterlot voice. Seriously, you will have delivered judgement and concluded the execution by the time you’re done if you keep it up. No offence of course. You have a magnificent pair of lungs, but it would be death of me!” Curiously enough, I notice the guard that had since earlier closed the door and placed herself in front of it was looking at me with thankful eyes. Huh, seems I’m not the only one who was distressed by the ‘voice of death’.

The lunar prince had shut his mouth again and seemed to be contemplating my words. Was that...? A blush? but, he’s got fur on his face, and this ain't a cartoon so how the fuck? Nah, you know what. Fuck it, I’ll just roll with it. Fur changes color based on emotion and physical status. End of fucking story. Now I’m curious about the cutie marks. How does that work? Fucking magnets bro.

“WE APOL-Erhm, We apologize for the unintentional harassment. We assure thou it was not our intention. As for the situation at hand. We are a bit at a stand still. Thou art as of now considered a threat, but thou have knowledge we would acquire. Thou hast explained thy desire to share said information in a secluded environment. Consider thyself secluded.” The lunar prince had moved across the room and positioned himself in front of the one way mirror, looking down at me in what I decide to call a ‘friendly’ look. It doesn't look friendly for shit, but I’m giving him points for trying.

“Of course, I’ll say everything! I only hope to be able to ask a few mundane questions first? Is that acceptable?” I make sure to sound as if I consider this entire situation as a diplomatic encounter, rather than the interrogation that it is.

“THO-Erhm,Thou may.” The lunar prince looks... Amused. Ok, that’s good. We like amused, amused means I’ll stick around a little longer.

“Well first off, I’ll introduce myself. My name is Ryan, Ryan Kent to be precise. Simply call me Ryan. I was wondering if you could tell me what time of day it was, and hopefully your own name.” I smile once more towards him, trying my damnedest to keep the situation from delving into a full blown interrogation.

“Very well Ryan Kent. Thou shalt hast thy answers. It is currently midnight, thou hast been in this room for seven hours. And our title is as such. We art Prince Artemis, Alicorn of Night, and Co-ruler to Equestria.” Artemis had taken up a royal pose as he phrased himself, making him look pretty damn impressive in my book. Of course, as impressive as an equine could. Points for trying at least.

"It is an honor, Prince Artemis. Now I would love to ask for a glass of water, but doubt that it is within my current rights to do so. I shall nevertheless start my tale. I am a being called human. My profession was student. Meaning I am still young for a human, a mere young adult. I was studying towards music back home. The human lands lie, very far away. In fact, I have a nagging suspicion that it lies beyond be boundaries of this plane of existence. How I got here I do not know unfortunately. The circumstances where... Odd, to say the least." I frown at that. How did I get here? the last thing I remember is walking through a park back home, before suddenly walking in a dense wood. Hm, now that I think about it. It was winter back home, here it's definitely summer. Or something close, maybe closer to equator? hehe, Equestria close to equator. Silly me.

The prince seemed to be contemplating my words, his features betraying his surprise. Whatever they were expecting me to say, it seems that this was not it.

"Doest... Doest thou jest? Thou art telling me, that thou art not only of a species never before seen nor heard of in the lands of Equestria, but also that thou art of a different world altogether?... And thou studied music?" The alicorn of night started pacing about the room. Mumbling to himself all the while, rubbing his chin with a hoof. Curious, the show portrayed that right at least. The ponies seems to have balled joints in their forehooves. I'm looking forward to seeing a pegasus in action, the wings of these creatures are remarkably defined, with very long feathers. The amount of feathers however coupled with the wing size is ridiculous. To think them able to fly would in my world be considered ludicrous. For a lack of better word, seeing the rules of Newton break here will be sweet! Hm, I'm actually feeling giddy. Once again, curious. It still remains to be seen though, whether or not I'm going to live long enough to be able to see a pegasus in flight. I'm still in an interrogation after all.

Artemis once again stopped his pacing and stared pointedly at me.

"Thou said that thou had information vital to the security of Equestria. Care to elaborate on thy statement?" Oh crap. Here goes nothing.

"Well, I might have stretched that statement's truthfulness to the limit when I said so. In the interest of self preservation. However it might run true, if a worst case scenario should occur. As far as I've been able to gather, I was whisked away from my home world into this one. With no warning nor prior signs telling that such an event were about occur. Now if it should turn out to just be a freak accident, then all would be fine and dandy. However should this be a work of design, who's to say I'm the only of my species to fall through? What if one of my people who fall through should carry a weapon? And god's forbid, should be aggressive? What if this happens on an immensely grand scale? My people's population counts in the billions... Six billion if my memory serves me right. If all of these humans were to randomly drop into your world would that not warrant a security issue? Of course, I stress the fact that such an event is highly unlikely and most definitely a worst case scenario, but to dismiss it entirely would be foolish." I speak calmly and evenly, trying my hardest to keep the monologue feeling hypothetical, but still stressing the fact that it might be possible for such an event to occur.

"Six billion...? How... How is such a thing possible? How doest thy species feed themselves? Such numbers surely must drain your world of it's resources! How doest thou sustain?" Artemis looked as if I'd told him his mother was a stallion, with sufficient proof to back it up.

"It shouldn't be that hard to imagine. How many reside in Equestria? I would guess that most of ponykind live here?" The more I know, the better my chances.

"Uh, That's... There art a population of 56 million inhabitants in Equestria, only about seventy percent art of ponykind. There art also Diamond dogs, Griffons and Dragons. Among other races in much fewer numbers." Artemis spoke evenly, as if contemplating his words carefully before uttering them. It's clear as day that Artemis did not have his brothers practice, nor finesse to navigate these sorts of situations. Though this brings up an interesting question.

"Wait, are you saying that there are Dragons in Equestria that identify themselves as Equestrian citizen? What benefits would they bestow upon your fair country? Also, does there exist other kingdoms or countries except Equestria?" Fair country? did I just say that? Huh, guess reading so much fantasy novels did wonders for my silver tongue when dealing with royalty.

Artemis once again had begun his pacing, mumbling to himself once more. It was actually kind of cute. No seriously, here's a being whose mane seems to be made up of the very cosmos itself and he's running around in circles like some frustrated librarian in look for a lost book. He answers almost offhandedly.

"Yes, yes there art Dragons who identify themselves as Equestrian. They do much for us, mostly securing our borders from our more aggressive neighbors. Of course there art other kingdoms! The Griffon Kingdoms to the north, the Diamond Planes to the west, Zebrica to the south and the Dragon wastes to the east. Even more beyond those. Pray forgive us, we must discuss these developments with our brother." Ending the statement with a flourish the alicorn turned on his hooves and marched outside. Leaving me in confusion, and the guard perplexed. Before once again the guard donned her neutral, stern mask and left the room, making sure to close the door behind her and locking it shut.

Oook? Am I still on trial here? What the hell did I say to make him just end the interview like that? I sure hope he didn't... He didn't misunderstand me and think that humans are planning on invading Equestria or anything right? Nah, he's probably just stressed. After all, it's a first encounter with an alien. I guess he just needed to chew on the information a bit. I got some good info out of it though. So that's a small victory for me there. Wonder how long he'll be. I'm in much need of a good bed. Funny how being unconscious for long lengths doesn't rest you up. As much as I hate it, I'm still at their mercy. Might as well get comfortable and get some sleep while I'm trapped here. Too bad the bench is so fucking small, it'll have to serve as a pillow.

~▲~

*CRASH* What in the name of-

"You have some nerves! Coming to my kingdom with threats of invasion! Stand and deliver fiend!" The solar prince had burst through the door leading into the room, efficiently turning it to splinters. His mane crackling with energy, seemingly on fire. His eyes glowing pure white and his face turned into such an expression of anger I'm pretty sure I should have been turned to ash right about now. He looks positively furious. I better dissuade this situation before it goes out of hand. Silver tongue, don't fail me now!

"Ehum... Uhh, Parley?" Oh crud...

The Fickle Notions of Half a Man

by Terolie

Apathy

Confusion

Acceptance