My Little Pony Friendship is Magic

The Six Lost Souls

Chapter 1. Intro.

NOTE: I do not own "My little Pony Friendship is Magic" or any of it's characters. The events in this story are NOT true and are inspired by another story from creepypasta.

You all probably heard of the recent, famous, and popular cartoon "My little Pony Friendship is magic." Whether you like it or not, it has became an overnight success and is popular to many fans. What people don't know is, that there's a deeper meaning behind the show… six heartbreaking stories of six boys who went to the same school and died on the same day, March 15th 2005. After hearing this, I would never think of the show the same way again.

It was just another cold afternoon in fall of 2011. My best friend, Martie, and I were walking home from our "All boy" school together.

"I am so happy we don't have any homework this afternoon!" Martie cheered, "Do you think you can spend the night?"

"Of course I can," I replied, "My parents are out of town anyway."

"Awesome! Let's go!" Martie shouted, with a bright smile on his face.

We both ran down the streets to Martie's house. When we finally got there, we threw our coats on the floor and sprawled ourselves on the floor. We then turned on the T.V. and it just so happened that "My little Pony Friendship is Magic" was on.

"Hey dude! I love this show!" I shouted.

"Really? You're a bronie right?" Martie asked me with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Hell yes! And I'm not ashamed of it either!" I replied, laughing.

"Not a problem dude, I like the show too," Martie laughed back, "But do you know what the show is really about?"

I stared at him, puzzled for a moment, "yeah," I replied, "It's about a bunch of ponies living in a magic town."

"Yes it is," Martie replied, "But there's more too it than that…"

Martie's voice was getting more serious. I knew that there was something he wanted to tell me, but what could it be? "My little Pony Friendship is Magic" was just a television cartoon. How could it have a deeper meaning? At least, that's what I thought…

"Follow me upstairs," Martie said, while he got up, "You'll have to see it too believe it."

Without hesitating, I followed Martie upstairs. I was roped in by curiosity. When we finally made it upstairs, Martie logged onto his computer and pulled up a link from his favorites. I peered at the screen, and saw that it was a blog entry someone posted. Once the page was fully loaded, Marty turned around and looked at me.

"Ok," he spoke in a troubled voice, "I don't know if any of this is true, but here's what I want to show you," he added, while pointing at the screen.

"It's a blog post…" I replied, "Why is it important? And what does it have to do with the show?"

"I found it last night," he added, "There's something else about the show. There's a dark story behind it… a VERY dark story…"

"What kind of story?" I asked, consumed by curiosity, "What happened?"

"Well," Martie started, "It was long before we both moved here, but there were six boys who all went to our school, and they all died on the same day, March 15th of 2005. Apparently, all the characters in the show are based off of them."

"You have got to be kidding me," I laughed back at him, "In our town? How would that be possible?"

"No joke," Martie replied in a serious voice, "Just look at this."

I started at the computer screen while Martie scrolled down. Aligned at the bottom of the blog post were six portraits of six teenage boys. Each of the pictures had a hyperlink that lead to different blog post that told how they each died. It was time for us to choose our 1st story…

My Little Pony Friendship is Magic

The Six Lost Souls

Chapter 2. Fluttershy.

Martie clicked on the 1st portrait to the left of the screen. It took us to a memorial page, which was on the popular website, . Once the page loaded, I was able to see his face more clearly in the picture. He was a handsome, but a weather-beaten young boy. He had light, apricot colored skin, bright blue eyes, and dark red, shiny hair, but numerous small scars were on his face.

"Wow, he's handsome," I said, "but I wonder what happened to him."

Martie stared up at me, with a sad expression on his face, "It's really sad…" he spoke in a calm, heart broken voice, "But here's his story…"

Brandon Blake was the first boy we read about. He was obviously the inspiration of Fluttershy due to his personality, and his love for animals. Brandon was also a quiet and shy young man, but what his classmates didn't know is that he was being abused by his mother and stepfather at home. His mother conceived him when she was 15 and blamed him for ruining her life. When his step father moved in, this made the neglect much worse.

Brandon was sitting by the tree at the school yard that morning, alone, like always. He was waiting for school to start. He was dressed in his typical outfit, an old, torn up pink hoodie that was way to big for him, and bright yellow sweatpants. He loathed waiting outside for school to start. He had to do it everyday because his stepfather would always drop him off early. What he hated most was the infamous school bully, Matt Russell, who was a tall, bulky football player who's main goal was to make every unpopular boy's life miserable. Little did Brandon know, Matt was coming his way…

"Hey squirt!" Matt snared, "Are you hiding from us?"

Brandon turned around and saw Matt standing over him, with the rest of the football clan behind him.

"Just leave me alone," Brandon replied in a calm, gentle voice, "I really don't want to go through this again."

Matt's face was then consumed by an intense anger, "How dare you talk to me!" he shouted.

Brandon's body flourished with fear. He never wanted to make Matt angry at all. Matt was 6'4 and appeared to be a master at combat, while Brandon was only 4"9, and was twenty pounds underweight due to his parents starving him. Brandon turned around and tried crawling away from Matt, but he wasn't quick enough.

Brandon felt an intense, sharp pain plow into his stomach as Matt kicked him. "Fight! Fight!" Brandon heard the other footballers yell. Brandon fell on the ground in intense pain. He then felt a horrible amount of pressure on his back. It was Matt's foot, crushing him. Matt then swung his fist and it slammed into Brandon's face. Tears started streaming down Brandon's face. He then tasted his own blood dripping from his nose.
"Awww look," Matt snared in an evil voice, "Our little baby is crying!"

The whole football clan laughed and pointed while each of them took turns high-fiving Matt. Brandon lied there with his arms curled over his face, scared Matt would strike again. Luckily, they all walked away laughing. Tears continued to stream down Brandon's bruised up face. He thought about how lonely he was, and how he never had any friends. He wiped the tears away with the sleeves of his pink sweater, but then he saw something emerge from the bushes.

Two black eyes were staring at him from the bushes. Out of curiosity, Brandon slowly crept towards the bush. Whatever it was, it was well aware of Brandon and it didn't attack him or run away at all. Once Brandon got close enough to the bush, he sat back down on the ground next too it and held out his hand.

"Come on," Brandon spoke in a calm, gentle voice, "I won't hurt you… I just want to be your friend…"

The small creature then emerged from the bushes. It was rabbit, but it was different from all the other rabbits Brandon saw. This one was a pure white color. The rabbit showed no fear as it climbed onto Brandon's lap. It sprawled itself out and relaxed. Brandon slowly and gently rubbed his finger tips between the rabbit's ears. Surprisingly, the small creature didn't bite or run away at all. For once, Brandon felt like he wasn't alone. The school bell soon echoed through out the school yard. Gently, Brandon picked up the creature and set it next to the tree. The creature stared at him as he patted it on the head.

He then spoke to the rabbit in a soft toned voice, "I'll be back later today, but if you want me to come back, just wait here. I'll promise I'll come back for you."

Brandon then got up and walked towards the school doors. He looked back and saw the rabbit stare at him with his small, black eyes as he walked away. Later that day, Brandon came back after school was over and was shocked to see that the rabbit was still there waiting for him. He walked over to the rabbit and kneeled down in front of it.

"Your so cute," Brandon giggled, as he stroked the rabbit's fur, "I'm going to call you Angel because of your white fur, and your so adorable. We're going to be best friends."

Angel became the only friend Brandon ever had in his whole entire life. Whenever Brandon was bored, he'd just come by the school yard and Angel would be there, waiting for him. Whenever Brandon felt lonely, he'd go by the school yard and tell Angel everything, and he'd listen too. Sadly, this wouldn't last forever, because Brandon's life was soon going to end.

Brandon finally arrived home that cold, March afternoon. He felt lonely and heartbroken because he never found Angel waiting for him at the school yard that day. When he walked inside his home, he saw his mother and stepfather cuddling on the couch, not paying him any attention. Brandon walked inside his room and flopped down on his bed. Tears where streaming down his face.

"Am I ever going to see him again?" Brandon thought, "He was so sweet, so kind. I'll never meet anyone else like him…"

Something then caught Brandon's eye. Peering through the window at him, were two black eyes. Brandon recognized the eyes, it was Angel. Angel was knocking on the window with his paw. Brandon got up and sprinted to the window. He unlatched the window and opened it slightly. Angel hopped inside and Brandon held him close.

"Angel," Brandon sighed with relief, "I thought you didn't want to see me again. I missed you so much."

Angel relaxed in Brandon's arms with his nose twitching rapidly. Brandon carried the small creature back to his bed, and they both sprawled down next to each other. The small creature twitched it nose as Brandon gently stroked its fur.

"You're the best friend ever Angel," Brandon whispered, as he gently stroked the creature's fur, "We'll be best friends forever."

"Get that filthy beast out of my house!" A loud voice shouted, startling Brandon and Angel.

Brandon was shocked to see his stepfather, Bruce, walk in. Unlike Brandon, Bruce hated animals and thought all of them were disgusting. His face was filled with an intense anger and his hands were arched. He then lunged at the bed, and Brandon rolled away while Angel hoped off. Angel landed on the wooden floor and sprinted away.

"Run Angel! Run!" Brandon shouted.

Bruce chased after him, "Get back here!" he shouted, "I'll kill you! You little pest!"

Brandon then went into defensive mode. He jumped up and ran after Bruce. "Don't touch him," he cried, "He's my friend! Leave him alone!"

Bruce ignored Brandon as he barbarically stomped on the ground, trying to find and kill the poor creature. Angel was just too quick for him though. He dodged all of Bruce's attacks and tried to find a way out. Brandon then realized that he had to save his only friend. In an instant, Brandon sprinted to the door and pushed it open.

"Through here Angel!" He screamed, "Run!"

In less than a second, Angel sprinted out of the house as fast a firecracker. By the time Brandon looked out the window to see where he was going, Angel was already long gone. A hand then coiled around Brandon's neck, snatching him off his feet. It was Bruce, with his eyes engulfed with rage. With all his might, Brandon kicked and clawed at Bruce's hands. It did no good, as Bruce's grip became even tighter. Brandon his airway close up. With one swing, Brandon desperately kicked Bruce in the lower abdomen. Bruce moaned in intense pain as he dropped Brandon to the ground.

"You little prick!" Bruce shouted, "I'll get you for this!"

Brandon quickly crawled away, and darted out the front door. He took off running at the speed of light. Chasing after him was Bruce, who was armed with a hunting knife.

"I'll kill you! You little prick! You're going to die!" Bruce shouted with his voice full or rage.

Adrenaline pumped through Brandon's temples as he kept running. Soon he spotted a squad car right in front of him. Two police officers quickly emerged from the car and aimed there guns at Bruce.

One police officer shouted, with his voice full of fury, "Freeze! Drop the weapon! Now!"

Brandon spun around and saw Bruce drop his hunting knife to the ground. He slowly got on his knees as the police ran over to him, and clipped the handcuffs around his wrist.

Bruce was arrested for attempted murder that day. He was facing a trial date that was scheduled for summer of 2005. Brandon told the police the whole story about how his stepfather was abusing him, but he left out the part that his mother was abusing him too, due to the fact that he didn't want to end up in foster care. When he returned home from the police station that night, his mother was furious at him.

Brandon was laying on his bed with tears streaming down his eyes. His mother kepyt yelling at him over and over again.

"You little bastard!" She shouted angrily, "You ruined my life! And now you've sent my husband to jail! I hope you burn in hell for this! I hate you! I want you dead!" She screamed.

She then stormed out of the room, and slammed the door behind her. Brandon field heartbroken. Tears continually streamed down his face, and his pillow was drenched with his own tears. He was all alone now, no friends, no family, no one… Even Angel was never going to come back.

Meanwhile, Brandon's mother was laying in bed. She was furious with her son and hated him deeply. Many thoughts and memories of how he ruined her life flooded her mind. All of the sudden, her thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise of glass shattering. Angrily, she stormed out of her room and marched over to Brandon's bedroom.

"Brandon!" She screamed, "You better not have done anything else!"

She knocked the door open and saw that his bedroom window was broken. The curtains fluttered with the cold winter winds that were blowing into the room. Eventually, she noticed something on the floor. It was blood, a huge puddle of blood. Laying in it was Brandon, whose skin was faded to a pale, ghostly white color. He was silent and still. In his left hand was a shard from the broken window. His wrist were mutilated, and a huge gash marked stretched across his throat.

After a brief moment of shock, Brandon's mother just casually rolled her eyes. She then pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, and called the undertakers to dispose of her son's body.

Brandon died on March 15th 2005, at 1am. Many people believed that his mother killed him. In way she really did, but the real truth was that Brandon took his own life.

I stood in front of the computer with my mouth wide open with shock. "How could someone do such a thing?" I asked as Martie stared at the screen, "Brandon didn't seem like he'd do anything bad. He didn't deserve this."

Martie turned around and looked at me, "None of these boys deserved this," he replied, "But there's more…"

Marty then faced the computer again and clicked the back button which bought us back to the blog post. We saw the aligned portraits of the six boys on the computer screen. Six sets of haunting eyes that stared directly back at us.

My Little Pony Friendship is Magic

The Six Lost Souls

Chapter 3. Rarity.

The second portrait to the right of Brandon's was another handsome young man. Marty clicked on his picture, and it brought us back to the same memorial site, , but this time it was at a different profile. His name was in bold print at the top of the webpage, Trevor Walters. He was a handsome man with light apricot skin, dark brown, short hair, and narrow blue eyes. But behind his eyes, was a sad, heartbreaking story.

Trevor was an only child born to a pair of rich, snobby parents. He was held up to a high standard especially by his father. His father always expected him to act masculine, and to study hard to become a business man, but this wasn't what Trevor wanted. What Trevor always dreamed of, was becoming a fashion designer and to live in Paris. Sadly his wish would never come true.

That early morning, Trevor slowly walked downstairs. He was dressed in his bright pink business suit. He had made it the night before. His father, Edward, was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, staring at him with a dirty look on his face.

"Why on earth are you wearing that!" Edward yelled, "You look ridiculous!"

"That's insulting!" Trevor shot back, "I made this suit, and you better get use to it because it's what I'm going to do when I get older!"

"Don't you sass me young man!" Edward groaned, angrily, "No son of mine will be a fashion designer!"

"Watch me," Trevor replied as he walked away.

"Trevor," his mother, Teresa, said, "We'll drive you too school. We're way to high class to take the bus."

A confused look formed on Trevor's face, "Ok… that's alright with me. When are we going to go?"

"Wait out by the car," Teresa replied, "We'll be with you shortly."

Trevor picked up his backpack and made his way outside to the garage. Meanwhile, Teresa and Edward stood in the entrance hall of their large mansion, staring intensely at each other.

"I just got our credit card bills in the mail today," Teresa groaned, "We're at forty thousand dollars worth of debt!"

Edward groaned back, rolling his eyes, "So? How is it my fault?"

Teresa became very angry and shot back at him, "It's your fault because you waste all our money going out and gambling, and even paying strippers to give you lap dances!"

Edward was soon flushed with anger, "Teresa, why does it matter anyway? You know I don't love you, and you know you don't love me! The only reason why we married is so you can live your fantasy of being in a rich family!"

Sadly, Edward was telling the truth. Teresa never wanted to fall in love with anyone, and neither did Edward. The whole reason why they married was for money. Trevor was sadly stuck in the middle of two heartless and greedy parents, who never even loved each other in the first place.

Teresa was still very angry at Edward. "That's not the point!" she shouted, "We can't be in debt! We need to be rich and look rich!"

"Maybe if you stopped spending your money on expensive clothes that go out of style the next month, we would be," Edward groaned.

Teresa then flashed her finger into Edward's face, "We'll talk about this later!"

Teresa then spun around and stormed out the garage door, furious. Edward quickly followed her. Waiting in their luxurious, black Mercedes was Trevor, oblivious that his parents were arguing. Teresa entered the drivers seat, while Edward sat in the passengers seat. They both slammed the doors and drove off. The car ride was awkwardly silent. This made Trevor feel uncomfortable. Like usual, he decided to try to see what was going on. Little did he know, this would lead him to his fate.

"Hey guys?" Trevor asked in a concerned voice, "What's wrong? None of you guys are talking at all?"

"What's wrong?" Teresa responded in a mildly angry voice, "I'll tell you what's wrong! I married a rich man to support me and he goes out every night gambling and wasting his money!"

"Will you shut up!" Edward shouted back, "The only reason why we're in debt is because you feel like you need to buy every single expensive item out there!"

Teresa was heated with rage, "At least I don't have to pay people to sleep with me!"

Trevor's heart was sinking. It made him sad to know that his parents were only together just because of money. He felt even worse when he realized that he was just a product of it. His parents shot back and forth, over and over again. Then Trevor noticed that they passed a stop sign. An instant later, Trevor looked to his left and saw a massive truck coming right for him.

It turns out that Trevor died in a horrific car accident while his parents were driving him to school. His mother had lost focus while she was arguing, and she accidentally passed a stop sign. Because of this, a massive truck collided with the Mercedes from the side. Teresa and Edward survived the accident with minor injuries, but Trevor's neck was snapped on impact which caused him to die instantly. Trevor was clearly the inspiration for the My little Pony Friendship is Magic character, Rarity.

Tears streamed down my face, "That's horrible," I cried, "How can parents do that. They never cared about each other or even their own child. It was all about the money."

Martie stared up at me, "I thought the same thing," he replied, with his eyes partly teary.

"Go back to the blog post," I replied back, "I want to know what happened to the rest of them."

Martie clicked the back arrow at the top of the screen. Where we would read about the next lost soul.

My Little Pony Friendship is Magic

The Six Lost Souls

Chapter 4. Rainbow Dash.

Martie clicked on the third portrait which took us to another profile on . It was a fairly, decent looking boy with pale apricot skin, short, platinum blonde hair, and bright, ocean, blue eyes. In his picture he was holding a football and was wearing a blue and white football jersey, with the mascot logo from our school. I soon figured that he was clearly the inspiration for Rainbow Dash. His name was Owen Lennox.

Owen was waiting in the lobby of the hospital while he heard his mother's screams of agony in the emergency room. "Push!" He heard the voices yell, "Push!". He then heard the cry of a baby. The door to the delivery room swung open as his father, Julian, emerged with a wide smile on his face.

"Come in!" Julian shouted in a happy voice, "it's a boy!"

Owen got up and walked inside the delivery room. His mother, Sarah, had a bright smile on her face. Deep in her arms was a newborn baby. Tears of joy streamed down her face.

"He's beautiful," Sarah cried, "The most precious thing ever."

Julian patted Sarah's shoulder, "What will you name him?" He asked in a calm voice.

"Randy," Sarah replied, "He's just so adorable. I love him more than anything."

Owen felt his heart sink. Sadly, what he thought would happen came true. Everyday, his parents would neglect him to adore and cater to there new baby. Even with Owen being one of the best players on the football team, he never really had any friends at all. His teammates only communicated with him while he was playing football with them, and the unpopular boys were too jealous to talk to him. Not only did Owen have any friends, he also felt he lost his parent's love.

Months passed and soon the school announced that they were having a new football game on March 11th. If they won, they'd be entered into the championship. Owen looked at this as an opportunity, not only to impress his other teammates, but to also get his parents to be proud of him.

That day after school, Owen made his way to Coach Greenfield's office. Coach Greenfield seemed very happy to see him.

"Welcome Owen," Coach Greenfield spoke in a happy voice, "What did you come over for?"

"It's just that I'm a little nervous about the game," Owen replied in a jittery, concerned voice, "I just really want us to win."

"Don't worry pal," Coach Greenfield laughed, putting his hand on Owen's shoulder, "We all know you'll win. You should see the way you are out there. The other teammates won't admit it, but you're the best player on our team."
Owen slowly tilted his head down and sighed in a sorrow voice, "But my parents don't think so…"

Coach Greenfield became confused, "Why do you mean?" he asked, concerned.

"My mom and dad had a new son," Owen sighed, "it's been three months and all they seem to care about is him. They don't even pay me any attention."

"Oh that's not true," Coach Greenfield laughed, "They love you. They're just still excited about their new baby, but I'll tell you one thing. If you win this game, it'll surely make them proud."

"I know, that's why I came here," Owen calmly replied, "Can you please give me extra training?"

Coach Greenfield stared at him with a confused look on his face, "It's really not necessary at all, but if your really up too it, sure," he replied with a smile on his face.

To his shock, Owen grabbed him and held him close in a tight embrace, "Thank you so much!" he cried, "You're the best coach ever!"

"Um… not a problem," Coach Greenfield replied, with his lungs out of breath.

Over the next few days, Owen would practice for hours with Coach Greenfield. All he could think about was winning. Every day he was on the football field, practicing, and every night he'd be in the basement lifting weights.

He became so desperately determined that he logged onto his computer one night, and searched for where he could find enhancement steroids. Once he found a site where he could order some from, he stole his mother's credit card and used it to order them. But what he didn't know was, that he had a mild heart condition, that the steroids and intense training made worse. He'd never find this out until it was too late…

It was an early afternoon in the football yard. The crowd was roaring with excitement as the footballers stepped into position. "I got this," Owen said to himself, "I know I can do it!"

When the referee blew the whistle, the game had begun. Owen was on fire. His body was filled with energy. He scored touchdown after touchdown. The crowd cheered his name, and he felt like he was on top of the world. In the middle of the third quarter, something went terribly wrong.

Owen was sprinting to the homerun mark, until he felt a sharp, burning pain in his chest. He tumbled to the ground as he lost balance. His heart was thumbing intensely hard. He heard the crowd gasp all he laid down on the grass. He paralyzed and couldn't move anything. Everything in his sight soon turned blurry and started fading to black.

"Someone!" Coach Greenfield shouted, "Call 911! Quick!" those were the last words Owen would ever hear again.

Owen was rushed to the hospital by paramedics. He was in a deep coma. The doctors tried there best to keep him alive, but after four days, he was pronounced dead. The autopsy reveled that he have had a heart attack. His parents grieved over his death for a short amount of time, but they later pulled themselves together to raise their new child. In less than a few years, they completely forgot that their own first son ever existed.

"That's horrible," I cried, while trying my best to hold back my tears, "It's really sad that he became that desperate. All he wanted was his parents to love him."

"It's even more sad that he didn't have any friends either," Marty replied staring up at me with his teary blue eyes. "Let's see what happened to the next boy," Marty added, as he clicked the back button on the browser.

My Little Pony Friendship is Magic

The Six Lost Souls

Chapter 5. Applejack.

The forth picture in line was another boy with pale apricot skin, bright chocolate colored eyes and golden blonde hair. He had a few freckles on each of his cheeks and thick eye brows. He was also wearing a cowboy hat.

"He's very handsome," Marty spoke while peering at the young boy's picture, "Let's see what happened to him."

Marty clicked on his picture, and the web browser went to another web page. This time it was on . It was a news article from 2005. The heading was in bold letters on the top of the page, "16 year old, Court Foster, dies in horrific accident". Later on, I realized that he was the inspiration of Applejack.

Court was a country boy who lived on a farm with his family, just like Applejack does on the show. But what the show didn't include was that his farm was run down. His family was struggling with money. Court was also the second oldest in the family. That meant that it was up to him and his older brother, Corey, to help take care of their younger siblings. They often worked odd jobs for money to keep their family stable.

Court never had any time to enjoy his life at all. He never had any friends, free time, and he never even had time to do his homework or study because he was always busy. Things only got worse when his father died of heart attack in 2001. His mother soon followed him in death from committing suicide.

Eventually, Corey, Court, and their nine younger siblings were sent to live with their senile grandparents, who were certainly unable to take care of them. Both of the older brothers had an extremely heavy burden placed on them. Sadly, this would lead Court to his own gruesome demise.

Court shot up out of his bed like a rocket. He peered at his alarm clock and saw that it was 4:10am. "Court! Wake up!" Corey shouted harshly from outside the bedroom door, "We're goin' to be late!"

"I'm commin!" Court shouted back, as he ran to the dresser.

Court put on his blue and white, plaid, button up shirt, and faded blue jeans. He quickly slipped his feet into his old sneakers and yanked his straw hat from the top of the dresser as he ran down stairs. He made his way outside, where he saw Corey in their blue, rusty, pickup truck, waiting for him. Corey was 18, and had dark blonde hair and silver eyes. He was a little taller than Court and spoke in a deep southern accent, just like everyone else in his family.

Court climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut as they drove off down the country road. The sky was a dark blue color and the atmosphere was light by dim, blue daylight. The pickup truck bumped up and down continually as they drove over the gravel filled road.

"Corey?" Court sighed with a twisted feeling in his stomach, "Do you think this is a good idea? We don't even know what this man wants us to do?"

"It don't matter," Corey replied in a stern voice, "We need the money or else what's left of our family will starve."

"Have you even meet this guy before?" Court replied.

"Of course I have. He's very strict but he's paying us each ninety dollars. We need that money!" Corey fired back.

"Ok, cool your jets," Court replied in a calming voice.

After a few minutes, they finally arrived at an old farm surrounded by fields. An old windmill sat in near the wooden house, and the barn was visible in the distance. Cows were also seen roaming the grass fields. Court and Corey both stepped out of the car as an old man walked over to greet them.

"My name is Gerald Tyler," the old man groaned in a mean, deep, southern accent, "I need one of ya to milk the cows, and another one of ya to drive the tractor to plow up the fields. Does that sound simple enough for ya?"

Corey replied nervously, "Yes sir."

"Good," Gerald snared, "Now move your asses! Pronto! I ain't payin ya for nothin."

Gerald limped his way back inside while Corey walked towards the cows. Court quickly ran over to him. "Wait!" Court shouted, "Where you goin'?"

Corey turned around with an annoyed look on his face, "I'm gonna milk the cows. You better start plowing the fields."

"Corey please!" Court wined in a concerned voice, "I never used a tractor by myself."

An angry look appeared on Corey's face, "Boy you better get your scrawny ass on the tractor!" he snared.

"Alrite! Fine!" Court snared back.

Court walked past the house to the tractor in the back fields. It was an old, rusty, brown tractor which stood about six feet high. A wave of anxiety rushed over Court, but he managed to snap himself out of it. "Don't worry Court," he told himself, "It's just like drivin' a car."

He hoisted himself up on the tractor seat and pulled on the leaver. The tractor made a loud rumbling noise as it's huge wheels drug it through the open fields. Court concentrated hard to control the steering. Even though it was daylight, it was still mildly dark, and Court was barely able to see anything.

By the time Court noticed something was wrong, it was already too late. The tractor wheels went over a log laying in the middle of the field. As the tracker bumped up, Court lost his balance. He landed on the ground, right in front of the metal blades, coming right for him.

Corey was startled by the sound of a deathly scream coming from the backfields. He quickly climbed to his feet an sprinted behind the house. "Court!?" Corey shouted, "Court are you ok!?"

Corey peered around the huge field, and something frightening caught his eye. The tractor was moving through the fields without Court on it. Corey became hysterical, "Court!?" he screamed, "Court! Where are you!?"

Soon, Corey found what was left of his brother. Court was lying face up. His plaid, blue, button up shirt was shredded and drenched with blood. His eyes where closed tight.

That morning at 4:45am, Corey called the ambulance on his cell phone. By the time they had got there, Court was already gone forever.

I felt tears slowly trickle down my face. "It just wasn't fair," I sighed to Marty, who was also tearing up, "That poor boy… He didn't deserve this. He never even had a chance to live his own life."

Sadly, I'd later find out that none of these boys ever had chance.

My Little Pony Friendship is Magic

The Six Lost Souls

Chapter 6. Twilight Sparkle.

The browser was back on the blog post with the six portraits of the deceased boys staring back at us. I really didn't want to find out what happened the rest of the boys as I was already heartbroken enough. Curiosity got the best of me, and Marty didn't hesitate to click on the fifth portrait. The hyperlinked picture took us to another article on . It was another news article, titled "Young boy's death touched many lives."

To the left of the screen was the boy's picture. He had light tanned skin, with jet black, shiny, spiky hair, and big, black eyes. The caption under his picture stated that his name was Raven Blackwell. Chills ran down my spine as his black eyes hauntingly stared back at me from the monitor. I instantly knew that he was the inspiration of the character, Twilight sparkle.

Raven was always held up to a high standard by his unloving parents. His older brother, Matthew was the smartest boy in his school. Everyday, Raven's parents would congratulate Matthew on his grades, and would always shower him with love and attention. They'd even brag to all their friends and coworkers about having a gifted son in the family.

Matthew was also very popular and had many friends. People never really noticed Raven at all because his brother was so smart and so likeable. Because of this, Raven felt alone and unloved. Eventually, this would lead Raven his tragic fate. But his blood would be on his own hands.

It was a cold January morning. Raven walked down the hallway to get to his second period class. His brother was standing across the hallway surrounded by his friends. Jealousy consumed Raven for a quick moment, but he soon brushed it off and made his way inside the classroom. He was sitting in his assigned seat in the back of the classroom when he was approached by his teacher, Mr. Rendell.

"Excuse me Raven," Mr. Rendell spoke in his polite voice, "How would you like to apply for a school of the gifted?"

Raven couldn't believe what he was hearing. At first, the thought of going to a gifted school disgusted him, but he realized that it was an excellent opportunity to stop being in his brother's shadow.

"Of course!" Raven replied happily, "I'd love too! But what do I need to do?"

Mr. Rendell handed Raven a sheet of paper, "This is your study guide," he replied, "There will also be an essay too. Make sure to study hard. The test is next month, but you'll need to be prepared."

A wide smile stretched across Raven's face, "You got it!" he replied happily.

Every night Raven would study, but it soon got more intense for him. The pressure to pass was getting higher and higher. For hours on end, Raven would be locked in his room studying as hard as he could. No one ever noticed, but the thought of him replacing his brother in the spotlight became his own obsession.

The day finally came. On February 25th Raven took the test in a secluded classroom. He was unsure whether he knew everything, as he could barely concentrate. The thought of him being smarter, popular, and more liked than his brother took over his mind. He then had a boost of confidence and answered every test question. Two weeks later, he found out how well he did.

Raven strutted his way to the principal's office. It was the only time in his whole life that he ever felt proud of himself. Many thoughts rushed through his head. "This is it!" he thought, "I'm going to be successful! I'm going to be better than my brother! I'm going to show all of them how excellent I am!"

He waited in the lobby of the main office, until his principal, who went by name Will, called him back. Raven pranced across the office and into Will's private room. He sat down on the chair across from Will's desk.

"You know what you're here for, right?" Will asked in a serious voice.

"Yes," Raven replied excitedly, "Did I get in? How well did I do?"

Will stared at him with a blank expression on his face. At that point, Raven knew exactly what happened.

"I'm very sorry Raven," Will sighed, "But you didn't pass. You scored a 70%. I'm sorry."

Raven felt his heart sink as he tried his best to hold back the tears in his eyes. He was never the same after that, and he never came back to school either. Everyday he'd be up in his room, laying under his covers. Continually, he'd wallow in his own shame, and his self esteem had dropped very low.

While Raven was up in his room, he could hear his parents congratulating Matthew on all the good grades he was getting. The night before Raven died, he overheard his parents talking about Matthew.

Raven slowly crept out of his room. He pressed his ear against his parent's bedroom door. "I'm so happy for Matthew," Raven heard his dad say, "He's a really smart boy, who has so much life ahead of him."

"I agree with you," Raven's mom replied, "I love him so much. I couldn't ask for a better son than Matthew."

Raven then stormed back to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He laid on his bed, curled up, with tears streaming down his face. The whole night, he cried and blamed himself for everything. His parents never even heard him. Raven truly felt alone. He was tired of being in his own brother's shadow.

The next morning, Matthew woke up and jogged downstairs. His mother was guzzling herself up in front of the mirror, getting ready for work.

"Hey dear," his mother smirked, "Could you please go upstairs and see if Raven is still sick?"

"Mom," Matthew laughed, "He's been sick for more than a week. He's obviously bluffing you."

His mother sighed, "Well, unfortunately not all of my children are motivated in life."

Matthew laughed as he made his way upstairs. He pounded on his brothers door, before rudely barging in. Raven emerged from under the covers with a rage filled look on his face.

"Didn't I tell you to not come into my room until I said you could?!" Raven viciously groaned.

"Quit the act kid," Matthew laughed, "Your going to school today."

"No!" Raven sighed, "I'm still sick. I can't go."

Matthew laughed, "Oh come on dude! Just because you royally fucked up on your test to get into a school for the gifted doesn't mean you have to cut yourself off from civilization."

Raven's mouth dropped open with shock. "How did you know about that!?" He shouted.

Matthew laughed back, "Everyone is talking about it at school. They all know about your shame. Boy, it must suck to be you right now."

Matthew walked of Raven's room, laughing viscously. The laugh echoed in Raven's troubled mind. By the time Matthew made his way downstairs, his mother had already left for work. As he was reaching for the front door knob, he heard a loud bang sound coming from upstairs…

Matthew spun around, startled. The whole house then became quiet. "Raven?" Matthew called. Raven didn't answer… the house stayed quiet… Matthew slowly waked upstairs. He couldn't figure out why, but his heart was pounding with fear.

As Matthew made his way to the second floor, something caught his eye. Raven's bedroom door was wide open, the same way Matthew left it. He quickly ran toward the door and into Raven's room. He soon saw something that he'd never forget. Laying on the bed in a thick puddle of blood, was Raven's lifeless body. Gripped in his right hand was a handgun, and a massive bullet was jammed in his forehead, between his lifeless eyes.

It was very clear that Raven Blackwell was the inspiration for Twilight Sparkle. Both of them were obsessed with knowledge and in a way, they each resembled each other. To make the facts even more chilling, Twilight sparkle was a unicorn, hence the bullet wound in Raven's head.

"Do you want to stop?" Marty asked, staring up at me.

I stood there, trying to decide. "How many more are left?" I asked.

Marty faced the computer and clicked the back arrow on the browser. The browser went back to the blog post. We've already read about five of the boys. Now there was just one more story left.

My Little Pony Friendship is Magic

The Six Lost Souls

Chapter 7. Pinkie Pie.

One more boy was left. I hardly had time to examine the last portrait before Marty clicked on it. The browser took us to a memorial page on facebook instead. It was titled, "In loving memory of Joseph Winkoski." It was unknown who made the page, since the creator of it had already deleted their profile and it only had eleven likes. To the upper right of the screen was his picture.

He had dark, olive toned skin, with a little bit of stubble on his face. A bright red bandana was wrapped around the top of his head, which made his hair not visible. The most noticeable thing about him was his bright green eyes.

"Wow," Marty spoke in an amazed voice, "He's very handsome."

"Yes," I replied, "What happened to him?"

Marty rubbed his chin, "I'll have to see," he added, "His memorial page is different from all the others." Marty clicked on the info tap which reviled a long typed paragraph.

"This should tell us something," Marty replied while staring at the text.

Joseph Winkoski was a foster child who went by the name Joe. It was very clear that he was the inspiration for Pinkie Pie. Out of all the boys we read about, he had the most saddest story. All he ever wanted was to make a bunch of friends, have a fun life, and be happy. Sadly, deep down inside, he knew that would never happen.

Joe was born inside a juvenile prison. When his mother was murdered by another inmate, he was sent to live with his biological father. Eventually, his father died of a drug overdose and Joe was adopted by a high class family when he was just two weeks old.

While Joe was a child, he had a difficult life. He was unloved by his adoptive parents, who really only adopted him because of the finical benefits. Joe also suffered a mental disability, aspersers, which made it very difficult for him to make friends with children his own age. Every day would be the same for Joe as he would spend all his time at home, either playing with action figures or playing video games for hours on end. He had no friends to spend his free time with.

As he got older, things only got worse. Joe suffered from a severe forum of depression. His psychiatrist put on him powerful and high stimulating antidepressant pills, which drastically effected his personality. This made him hyper and impulsive, but he never really did anything dangerous.

He acted very cheerful, and happy. Always laughing, and always talking and jabbering on and on about random stuff. Joe also became very fun loving and outgoing. Every night he was always in a bright cheerful and energetic mood, and always wanted to party, but no one ever wanted to be bothered with him. His teachers and classmates always found him annoying, and many people believed he was just acting out to get attention.

He started dressing in bright pink and red, flamboyant, over the top clothing, which often caused him to be bullied in school. Whenever he asked someone if they wanted to hang out or party with him, they'd always tell him the same thing.

"Ewww! No Joe!," they'd all say, "No one wants to be around a freak like you!"

Even though Joe seemed sad or upset at all, these comments were very devastating to his feelings. Underneath his bright and happy personality, was a sad and depressed soul waiting to die.

The only close friend Joe ever had was his uncle, Doug. Joe was later sent to live with him, in the Dominican Republic. Doug was the only biological family member Joe would ever know and become close too. It was truly the only time in Joe's life when he ever was truly happy. Unfortunately, after two years, Joe had to move back in with his foster parents due to Doug's lack of funds to support him.

Joe grieved over having to move out of his uncle's home. Back in the town Joe lived in, he had no friends at all. No one ever wanted to talk to him or sit next to him at lunch. To cope with this, Joe doubled his daily doses of the anti-depressants he was on. Little did he know, he was slowly being driven to insanity.

In September of 2004, his uncle committed suicide. When Joe found out, his fragile stability was shattered. By the time he was 17, he was already deeply depressed and worse than he ever was. The other classmates at his school often tormented him, and taunted him because of his personality, and the way he dressed.

His reputation of being what appeared to be a hyperactive, out of control teenage boy, caused him to be tormented and judged by nearly everyone in town. It was only a matter of time before he would succumb to the intense pain and pressure he was under.

Joe woke up from his bed that cold, March night. He peered at his alarm cock, as the red numbers glowed back at him. It was 3:45 AM. "This is it," he thought, "Time to do it."

Very slowly, Joe crept out of his bedroom. He slowly made his way downstairs to the kitchen until he came to the medicine cabinet. A full container of pills caught his eye. He snatched the pills out of the medicine cabinet and read the label. Printed on the label in narrow black letters was Ibuprofen.

"This should work," Joe thought, "After I'm done, I'll never have to live this life again." Quietly, Joe filled up a class with water from the kitchen faucet and crept back upstairs to his bedroom. He poured the container of bright blue pills into his hands. One by one, he swallowed each of them while continually taking sips of water. When he was all done taking every pill in the container, he set the glass of water on the nightstand next to his bed, and slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.

What Joe didn't know was that the Ibuprofen was going to have a much worse effect on him than death. The Ibuprofen caused a blood vessel in his brain to rapture, causing blood to drip into his cerebrum. This caused him to go into a deep coma. When his adoptive parents found him, they called the undertakers to dispose of his body.

Once the undertakers arrived, they discovered that Joe was still alive, but had a very weak heartbeat. He was immediately rushed to the hospital and was put into intensive care. After five days he woke up from his comma, but his brain was damaged.

He started to have nightmares and suffer from terrifying hallucinations. Right after he woke up, he was transported to a psychiatric hospital. For days, Joe was locked in the restricted unit, isolated from the other patients. The hallucinations and nightmares became more intense as time passed. Soon, he would start to hear voices. The psychiatrist and doctors were doubtful that he'd ever go back to normal.

A bright, shinning light glared into Joe's eyes as he woke up. He looked around and saw that he was still dressed in his typical outfit, a bright pink, V-neck t-shirt, and bright, hot pink shorts. His red bandanna was also tied around his head, like it always ways.

The room he was in was large, and the white walls and floor was padded. Florescent ceiling lights light the whole area. He had no idea where he was, or how he got there. Joe scratched his head confusingly, "Where am I?" he asked himself. It was then, he heard the low, raspy voice whisper to him.

"Joe…" the voice whispered slowly, echoing through the whole room, "Joe…"

Chills ran down Joe's spine. He was terrified as he did not know where the voice was coming from. "Who is that!?" He shouted, while shivering, "Who are you!? Show yourself!"

"Joe…" the whispering voice snared. Joe quickly spun around as he was startled by the noise of a door swinging open. The door lead out of the padded room, into a dimly light hallway.

"Joe…" the voice snared again, echoing though the deserted hallway.

Joe slowly crept out of the room, and followed the haunting, mysterious voice calling his name. Little did he know, the voice was leading him to his own, tragic fate. The voice lead him down the dark hallway which was light by the moonlight through the windows. Soon, he reached a door that was ajar.

He made his way through the door and climbed up multiple flights of stairs. The voices echoed his name over and over again. Joe was still unaware of what was going on. Up ahead the last flight of stairs, was a door which was left wide open. He made his way through it and saw that he was on the roof of the hospital. The cold, winter winds blew intensely through his skin.

The voices were louder now. He could hear them everywhere, and all around him. "Fly!" the voice snared loudly, "You can fly!". Joe became confused, then he started straight ahead and saw that he was hundred of feet off ground. "Fly away," the voice snared, "Your free to fly away,". Joe slowly walked towards the edge of the rooftop. Slowly, he spread his arms out wide while he stepped closer and closer. "You can fly!" the voice shouted, "fly!" Joe slowly closed his eyes. His whole body became relaxed as he stepped closer and closer to the edge of the rooftop... Then he jumped…

Joe Winkoski was the last boy to die on March 15th 2005. His body was found impaled on flagpole outside the entrance to the hospital. Naturally, his careless, greedy adoptive parents sought this out as a perfect opportunity to get free money. They sued the hospital with a large lawsuit of a wrongful death. To make the facts even more chilling, Pinkie Pie was originally designed to be a Pegasus on the show.

Right before I was going to burst out into tears, I realized something very important. "None of this is true!" I shouted at Marty, "You can't seriously believe this! Some crazy guy with a sick twisted imagination typed all of this… Don't you think?"

Marty stared at me with a troubled look on his face. He paused for a great amount of time until he spoke in a soft voice, "I need to show you something… Follow me…"

He got out of his seat, and I followed him downstairs. We both went out the front door, and walked down the street as the sun was setting.

My Little Pony Friendship is Magic

The Six Lost Souls

Chapter 8. Conclusion.

I followed Marty down the neighborhood street while the late afternoon slowly faded into night. Luckily, Marty had a flashlight. Once we got to the end of the street, we arrived at the neighborhood cemetery. "What are we doing here?" I thought.

With myself consumed by curiosity, I kept following Marty deeper into the cemetery, until we reached a set of six gravestones. The gravestones were perfectly aligned next to each other. Closely, I examined the dates on them and was shocked when I realized they all had the same date, March 15th, 2005.

Every story we read was true. All six of the boys we read about really did go to our school, and all of them died on the same day. I felt a tear run down my face. Just as I was going to wipe it off with my finger, a hand grabbed mine. It was Marty.

He stared at me with his shiny, bright blue eyes, "I brought you here Clerk because I have something special that all these boys never had…"

I became even more curious, "What is it?" I asked.

He stared at me and spoke in the softest voice, "I have you…"

He then slowly embraced me in a warm, loving hug. I held him tight. We both went back to his house that night. His parent's still weren't home, and I stayed with him the whole time. I never let go of him.

Marty was right about everything. He really did have something the boys didn't have, and I had it too. A loving and caring friend who'd help you with anything. Maybe, if all of these boys had the same, they wouldn't have endured such tragic ends to their lives. Maybe they all would have been happier and would have lived much longer.

On April 1st 2005, there finally was a combined funeral for all six of them. Many of the civilians attended. All of them were speechless. The priest gave a short speech before each of there coffins were lowered.

"You all may be wondering how these poor souls met their fate all on the same day," he spoke in a loud but soft voice, "You may wish that this all would have never happened, and may be wishing these boys haven't endured such tragic deaths. Maybe they were meant to live shorts lives. Maybe their deaths let them escape. Each of them had a sad story, each of them were unloved, unhappy, neglected, abandoned, rejected and lonely. But most importantly, each of them are now free. May Brandon Blake, Trevor Walters, Owen Lennox, Court Foster, Raven Blackwell, and Joseph Winkoski rest in peace, and find eternal happiness."

All six of their coffins lowered into the ground, where each of them would stay…forever.

You may be wondering why a cartoonist would make a children's show inspired by such depressing events. Perhaps whoever made the show, My Little Pony Friendship is Magic, wanted to give the spirits of the boys closure.

Think about it… In the show, Fluttershy is able to take care of all the animals she adores. Rarity is a successful fashion designer. Rainbow Dash is an incredible athlete. Applejack runs a successful farm. Twilight Sparkle is well educated and amazingly smart, and Pinkie Pie is happy without a care in the world. Maybe, just maybe, the creator of the show wanted to give the boys what they always wanted.

And for once, after their lives of misery, they're all happy.

I do not own any of the my little pony characters and this story was inspired by creepypasta. None of it is true.