My sister, Sharp Shot, was very manipulative and mature for her age. We’d played it a thousand times over, but it got our blood pumping and minds racing. With the weather today being particularly cold, this was just what we needed. Although I didn’t mind the cold since it made me feel safe. The snow was falling softly from the grey sky overhead as we stood outside our house, face to face.

I smirked at her. "You’re the villain." I proclaimed, pointing a wing at my little sister.

"I don't want to be the villain." She pouted back and sniffled.

The rules were simple: one of us was the hero and the other was the villain. We assumed we were the first to think of this game as we barely knew anyone else. Aside from the first rule, you weren't allowed to leave the area, which was our property with its fictional lines. I guess living out of town away from everypony did have its perks.

I saw her horn start to glow a faint red as she bowed her head, sniffling louder before and letting out a loud sobbing sound. It was loud enough for our parents to hear.

"Star! Don't make your sister cry!" Mom yelled as she leaned her head out of the kitchen window. She was cooking something, I couldn't remember what it was, but I remembered the smell of it. The place smelled like home.

I pouted and slumped, letting my guard down. "But Mom sh-" 'thud' A snowball to the side of my face knocked me over. I should have expected that. She was cunning, using her experience to her advantage. I laid there for a bit, in the cold soft snow, before sitting up and commencing a counter attack.

Getting up was a mistake, since she was already holding three snowballs in her magical grip. I only managed to survive the onslaught by guarding myself with my wings, using them as a shield, but the battle had just started. But I was already smiling, feeling alive as my imagination ran wild. This field was now a war zone; the site of a war between two forces, good versus evil.

We played the day away: me flying around, dodging snowballs, occasionally scraping the ground to get enough snow for a ball or two. She, on the other hoof, was creating an onslaught of snowballs with her magic. The two of us kept playing until something more important than heroes and villains caused a cease fire… dinner time.

Sharp and I raced back home: a very small old shack mostly made out of bits of scrap metal and wood. There were two bedrooms, a kitchen that connected to a living room and a small upstairs attic with a big circular window. That was my room, with an old mattress and a few shelves for my books and toys. Most of the rooms didn’t have much. Mom and dad had a queen size mattress and Sharp had an old dresser. In the dining room we had a table made out of a flippable chalkboard and some old metal chairs.

The kitchen was mainly some stuck together cupboards and drawers with a broken oven that you had to start a fire inside of to cook on top. The whole thing was placed on what was the foundation of a long gone house, which happened to have a basement. The basement was only lit with a lamp and was kinda creepy, so I stayed out of there.

We rushed inside, each carrying a bunch of snow on our heads and in our ears. Needless to say, we were forced to go back outside and shake it off. We came back in and sat on our chairs. Myself, Sharp and mom all looked at dad, still polishing his gun. Mom gave him a cough and a look before he sheepishly put the gun off the table .

Milk, water, rabbit meat and an assortment of vegetables boiled in a soup, which was mom's specialty and our main source of food. Ponies didn't have to eat meat and couldn’t survive off doing so. But nevertheless, I enjoyed the texture of it. It at least had more flavor than the vegetables, the meat juices sliding down my throat as I relished in the savory flavor. I had a roof over my head, food in my belly and a loving family, what more could one need?

Dad struggled to lift the bowl to his mouth with his hooves, one of them being a metal prosthetic. I always felt sorry for Dad, but I knew he didn't want pity since he was too proud for that. The bowl shook in his uncertain grasp, spilling some of the contents onto the table before Mom levitated his spoon with some soup in it to his mouth. Mom’s magic was a pretty white, it twinkled just like the stars. That was when and if you could see them through all the grey ever looming clouds.

She was a charcoal coated unicorn pony with a flaming piece of coal for a cutie mark. But the prettiest part of her was her eyes, a rich gold in color. Mom had a spikey medium length mane, mine was that same, except for the colors. Mine was a light sky blue color, where mom’s was a vibrant orange. Mom was always there for us, loving us and taking care of us. I got mom's heart. Well, that’s what she said anyway.

Sharp was a jet black coated, dark grey maned unicorn with streams of pure gold running through it. Her mane was medium-length and curved into points, while her tail curled two times around. No matter how we tried to restyle it, it seemed like that was its default style.

Despite being my younger sister, she acted very mature for her age, although she was not above using her age to her advantage when the opportunity arose. I on the other hoof was quite immature for my age. Being roughly the same height meant that I was often mistaken as the younger sibling, to my annoyance and her pleasure..

Dad, on the other hoof, was a bit more complex than us. He was a worn old stallion in his mid-fifties, a grey goatee and greying mane that tried to retain its dark blue tone, but it was clearly losing. His coat was light blue, but it had certainly wrinkled, some old scars from his youth still visible. Dad was a great dad, he provided for us, loved us and always kept us safe. Even with his disability, he was still very capable and he never let it slow him down.

But the one part of him unaffected by age was his eyes, his deep blue eyes, the same eyes I had inherited. The most distinctive feature was his metal prosthetic leg though. He didn't like to talk about it.

Compared to the rest of us, Dad was the only one to wear clothes a snow parka jacket with wing slots. The jacket was dark blue with white legs in the back and one side on the front. Its features were orange and its interior was a soft grey material.

According to dad, it was also waterproof. One day, to test it, my sister and I dumped a bucket of water over his head and, sure enough, he was right. The jacket was dry, on the outside, the same couldn't be said for his head. He wasn’t too happy at first, but eventually he embraced us in a soggy revenge hug and we all laughed it off. The jacket also had a dozen pockets all over it, but that wasn't the coolest part, no. It was the fact that despite being with dad forever it still looked brand new. Apparently, it had a self-repair talisman built into it.

After dinner, we faced a tough choice-- the boredom of studying or a dreaded bath. I HATED water in general. If we were meant to be in water we'd have been born with gills. The bathtub was a metal barrel, heated by a fire underneath. Sharp and Dad loved just soaking in the warm water. After mom cleared the table, dad flipped it so it was a chalkboard again. It was cracked and old but still useable.

We were about to start our lesson, when mom walked in with a glass of water and my medication. I had no clue what it was, but I knew without it I'd get bad headaches and have nightmares and visions of a black double door.

I can't even remember when I started taking my medicine, but I knew I needed it. It hurts too much without it. My head would feel like it's being squeezed and it also felt like nails were rattling around inside. But enough about that, it was time to focus on class. If I was lucky it would be a subject on guns or mechanics, the only subjects I'm good at or even like. Dad began to write something on the chalkboard: 'History.' My worst subject, I didn't hate it but I didn't know it very well.

Dad stood on his hind legs and tapped the board to get our attention before falling back down to a normal stance. "The history of the world is important to know, to understand what happened to the world and why it's like this." He gestured to the window and the frozen wasteland outside.

I slouched, my head on the table as Sharp sat up proper on her chair and paid attention. For the next half an hour dad droned on and on about how the world used to be. Apparently it wasn't always a frozen hell. A long time ago, there was a terrible war between ponies and zebras. In the end both sides lost. Zebras dropped great and powerful bombs called balefire bombs all over the world and that irradiated such and such. I didn't really pay attention.

After class Mom hassled us to brush our teeth, and then we all went to bed. Me being a kid, bed meant pretending I was asleep until my parents actually fell asleep before sneaking out. I'd usually just sneak onto the roof and look at the grey cloudy sky, hoping to see a star or the moon.

Dad taught us that the sky was off limits and that I was never allowed to fly too high. He said a group called the Enclave owned it and wouldn't like it if I flew too high, but they just sounded like a bunch of meanies to me. I mean how could they own the sky and why not share with the rest of us; it sounded so unfair.

But being a young kid I slowly began to disobey my dad’s no flying rule. I started with low level flights around the area, no higher than the trees. But as time went on I flew higher and higher, until I was a hoof or less away from the clouds.

During one of my night flights, It was a particularly cold night. Fortunately, I had grabbed a scarf for this midnight flight. It started like any flight before, only this time, I saw a bird. A beautiful blue bird, a rarity in the wasteland. I flew after it, giving chase. The bird seemed to enjoy our little game, we probably played for hours.

We flew over the mountainous terrain and the woods. I loved the feeling of flying, the freedom, the wind; it was amazing. But it was also getting late so I decided to head home. It was then that I noticed two figures following me. They hadn;t come from the ground but above the clouds.

At first, they were just two slightly darker spots in the grey clouds, vaguely in the shape of Pegasi. I panicked and dove down when all of a sudden two metal monsters dove after me. They looked like armored monsters, with powerful wings and long, thin tails tipped with stingers, a eerie green glow emitting from something under their wings.

I looked back to see a green flash of light. I didn't know what it was but I instinctively rolled out of the way as a glowing green bolt shot past me. More and more rushed past. I dodged them all, remembering dodging the snow balls. Unlike snow balls, I couldn’t block them with my wings or allow myself to be hit by them. I don't know why but I suddenly got a light headache.

By the time I looked forward I saw the bird from earlier, it shot up past me and flew into one of the metal monster’s face, forcing it to stop as it attacked its head. I swooped up as I avoided the ground by inches, the monster on my tail tried to slow down but ended up crashing into the ground.

The one being harassed by the bird finally managed to swat it away with a metal limb, before following up with a shot from these weird looking things on its side that glowed an ominous green. It was at that moment I barreled into it with all my force. I quickly jumped off it and dove to the bird’s aid, I managed to catch it before it hit the ground but it had been hurt. Hurt helping me.

I quickly wrapped it in my scarf and bolted for home as the metal monster on the ground stood up and the one I tackled stabilized itself in the air. By the time they gave chase I had a sizeable lead, but they were armed and faster, if less maneuverable.

I flew through the forest as they stayed above the trees, strafing down to shoot at me with their demonic glowing guns, green bolts of what I assumed weren’t rainbows and friendship, rained down. I used the trees as cover but it seemed as if they chose fire rate over accuracy. The trees thankfully seemed to help provide some cover, but it would only be a matter of time before they scored a lucky hit. I peered through the trees and was able to see my house in the distance, but I'd lost sight of the attackers. My heart was still beating a million miles per hour, but I was starting to get hope as home was in sight.

I flew out into the open field straight towards the house when a streak of green bolts forced me to an abrupt stop. I saw the metal beasts hovering above me, their guns pointed at me as they landed in front of me.

"Well well well, what do we have here? A little run away?" Said a robotic voice from within the metal. I was just surprised it could talk.

"Little shit caused me to crash," said the other in a snarling tone, before dispensing a bolt in front of me, scaring me back a bit as I jumped.

I swallowed my fear and asked nervously. "Are you Enclave?" One of them seemed to chuckle at the question. I imagined the Enclave just as normal pegasi, not these demonic metal things.

"So you’re a ground born Pegasus? I take it that’s your family's house over there?" Asked the one with a robotic voice, it seemed as though he already knew the answer and just wanted confirmation.

The other one reloaded his weird looking gun and took a step closer. "Chief Air Sergeant Black ordered us to take any young Pegasus found on the ground up to the sky as a sort of rescue program." I relaxed a bit thinking I wouldn’t be killed but just kidnapped, a slight improvement. But then he charged his weird looking rifle on his side.

"But that’s a lot of paperwork for something I don’t give a shit about, so I think we'll just kill you and your family." I couldn't see his face, but I could tell he was the type to enjoy hurting others. It must have been the vibe he was giving off through this synthesized voice.

I looked to the other Enclave soldier for help but he simply looked away. I shut my eyes in fear, feeling the tears run down my face, stinging due to the cold. I clenched the bird in my scarf, waiting for the impact of one of those weird green bolts from their guns.

There was a bang, but this wasn't the sound of their green glowing guns. No, this was the sound of a gun I knew all too well. Dad's hunting rifle. I opened my eyes to see the Enclave soldier that was looking away fall to the ground dead. It’s piercing yellow eyes shattered into pieces and revealed a normal pony eye underneath. It was then that I realised that these weren’t some metal creatures but, in fact, ponies in terrifying metal suits. I was shocked by this realisation, too scared to look away as gore ran down its helmet and into the snow.

The other pegasus in the suit spun around on high alert as he tried to spot the shooter. I was still too scared to move, as I kept looking at the dead body illuminated by the Enclave soldier’s guns. I did't know how much time passed but I knew I had to get out of there.

I took a step back but immediately stopped as the crunching of snow from my hoof was the only noise around, the wind having died down. I went to slowly take another step when the soldier looked back at me. His metal tail lashed out and twisted around my throat, its sharp stinger inches from my neck.

I whimpered and began to cry, fearing for my life. It was then that I heard another bang, and the soldier’s gun exploded beside him. He let out a yelp as his gun sparked. He let go of me and shot wildly as his tail lashed at his badly damaged gun, but with the green bolts flying around I was able to see the shooter.

It was my dad, standing a few meters away from the house. A green bolt passing closely past his face. he had a unlit cigarette in his mouth. Amazingly, he lit it with the bolt before it hit the house's door and dissipated.

I stared at the small red light of his cigarette, ignoring the bucking Pegasus. At this point, the Pegasus in armor jumped up and away from me before the right side of his body exploded in a green fireball. He screamed as he fell, steaming, to the ground.

I could see the snow sizzling on contact with his hot armor. The armor on the right side was blown away and his fore hoof, wing and skin up to his rib cage was missing along with part of his visor. He gurgled and twitched and I couldn't look away. I could see parts of him were burnt, exposed or completely missing.

Dad walked closer, the red light of his cigarette moving towards us. I could only focus on the soldier dying in front of me. His rib-cage and lungs rose and fell. Somehow, he was still alive, still breathing. The sounds of hoof steps grew closer. I ignored them. Looking into the eye of the soldier before me, I saw fear and regret within his dark purple eye. It was around that time I noticed he was actually a she.

Then I felt a cold metallic hoof on my shoulder. I flinched a little before looking up at my dad beside me, tears running down my face. He looked so calm and collected, even with the rifle slung across his side. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. He shook his head and then started to take off his jacket and put it around me.

We just stood there, watching this dying Pegasus that moments ago wanted to kill me and my family. She closed her eyes and coughed as her breathing became more labored. Dad's cigarette burnt out as he spat it out and stepped in front of me.

"Go inside." Was all he said. With that I started walking but stopped a few feet away as I heard a groan of pain.

I looked back to see dad sticking the barrel of his rifle between the Pegasus's exposed ribs and into her lung. She squirmed and groaned in pain. I opened my mouth to speak when there was another bang. Only this one sounded a lot more… wet.

The Pegasus stopped moving, and I began to slowly walk back to the house. I sat in the doorway and watched him. He buried the bodies where they laid then slowly made his way back to me. It was only in this lighting that I could see the now dried blood from the back spray of before, it was all over my face and jacket.

He stood in front of me as we looked at each other. I looked into his calm blue eyes as he looked back into my bloodshot red and blue eyes. I opened my mouth to say something when he suddenly hugged me. My jaw shuddered and I was frozen, an overwhelming feeling of relief and fear washed over me.

I cried into his shoulder for probably half an hour, although it felt longer. By the time I stopped, he sat in the snow in front of me. I simply bowed my head as he sat there. He eventually went to grab the scarf when I moved it away.

There was a small chirp sound from the bundled up scarf. Still too emotional to talk I decided to show him. I slowly unraveled the scarf to show him the injured blue bird. Its wing had been vaporized and the wound cauterized shut, but the bird had survived. Dad grabbed a cloth and cleaned us up before wiping himself off. He kissed me on the forehead and placed the bird on some blankets.

Dad draped his jacket over my shoulder to keep me warm. "Come inside when you're ready." Those were the last words he said to me that night, before he walked back into the bedroom. Luckily mom was a heavy sleeper.

I wasn't scared. I knew that night would change my life; no longer would I be so naive, although the one other change was the fact that dad let me keep his jacket.

I didn't actually come back inside, I just sat in the doorway. I wasn't looking at the hidden graves or the sunrise. No, I was looking at the ominous black door sitting in the field, two silhouettes standing before it. I heard a sound below me. "Psst." I looked down at my shadow in front of me on the ground.

My shadow had a white lined mouth and white glowing eyes. It grinned at me and spoke. "You can't ignore me forever." I didn't know what that was, but it was gone after I blinked, along with my headache.

I gave one last look into the sky, expecting clouds but fearing more shadowy figures coming down to attack me. To my surprise, there was the largest cut in the clouds that I had ever seen. I saw part of the moon, well at least I thought it was, based on stories mom told me when I was younger. It was kind of beautiful. I sat there and watched as the rift in the sky began to close, but before it did I caught a glimpse of one of those stars shooting across the sky.

I don't know what it was but that seemed to give me hope. I muttered to myself. "I wish this world was better." I don't really know why I made a wish on a star, but it just felt right. The next morning when mom found me, she hugged me and pointed out my flank. Apparently I had gotten my cutie mark, a shooting star, although it was little comfort given what happened.

It would be weeks before I would even talk again, months before I would fly again. Mom went to the local doctor, who was a family friend, and got him to double my intake of medicine. But I still saw the black door in that field for a long time to come. The shadows disappeared, but the weird thing was that I didn't have a headache.

I didn't dare approach the door. I was too scared to even leave the house. Needless to say, the lessons stopped and everything seemed to stand still.

Sharp kept asking questions, wanting to know what had happened to me. Mom and dad didn't tell her anything. I believe dad told mom, they both comforted me over the next few weeks.

"I want to become stronger!" I randomly shouted it out at dinner to everypony's surprise. I don't know what drove me to say what I said.

With that dad began to train me and my sister. We learned how to shoot and apply medical aid. Our snow ball fights meant a lot more now than they did before. We began to spar hoof to hoof, even knife to knife with dull, wooden knifes.

When mom and dad told Sharp what had happened to me that fateful night, she became a lot more understanding and motivated to train with me. We pushed each other further and further, not letting up and not holding back. I wanted to become stronger, I needed to become stronger. To protect myself and those around me. Unfortunately, I was oblivious to the cost, annoyed to the moderation mom and dad insisted we have between training.

Then, one day, I woke up to see Sharp covered in bandages. She simply smiled at me, but I could tell she was hiding her pain. In my rush to power I had damaged her childhood. I remembered when I was her age, not a care in the world and no exhausting training either. So I too pulled back on our training, to the point where it was more like a game and less about the fear of being too weak.

During our first gun lesson I was kicked back by the recoil of dad’s hunting rifle. I missed the target he had set up. But Sharp, she was something else, not only did she hit the target and take the recoil, but she also got her cutie mark. It was a red pair of cross hairs with a circle that looked impressive on her black flank. She was a true prodigy, skilled at all the lessons, while I was left to play catch up.

Over time Sharp and I began to fall into our skill groups. She excelled farther at shooting, hoof combat, and strategy than I. But I had the upper hoof with agility, mechanics and I could hold my own most of the time during knife combat.

There were more lessons than that and they were quite varied, but those were our defining skills. It was unfair, she had magic, and magic was much more useful than a Pegasus's ability to fly or an earth pony’s strength. In fact it just pushed me to try even harder, to catch up to her.

Dad had me help him hunt crystal bunnies, little mutant bunnies with a bit of crystal in them. They appeared to be covered in fur, usually white or grey, and they’d have shards, or even full limbs, of crystal growing out of them. A good source of meat and fur, plus you could get a few caps for the crystals.

I still remember the first time I shot at a crystal bunny. At the time I was a pretty good shot, more than enough to hit a bunny at fifty meters. I missed anyway. I couldn’t take a life, I didn’t want to. I living under the protection of my father I didn’t have to. He was a little disappointed in me, but my mother understood, she was so kind. By dinner time my father perked up. As for my sister, she mocked me for it.

With time I was able to kill a bunny. The first time I did, I felt bad. I was scared. Not scared that I’d miss, but scared that I’d hit. Even worse that I’d like it. Luckily I felt sad, and that’s how I hope everyone felt when they first killed something.

I slowly walked over to the bunny, looking at it as it laid in the snow surrounded by its own blood. It was still breathing, looking at me, not with fear but with understanding. I stared back at it with tears in my eyes. It was then that dad walked up to me and handed me a knife.

“Kill it.” He said...

I hesitated to take the knife but I did. Shakily, I took it in my muzzle and bent down to the bunny. I looked up to my father. He just simply nodded, and with that I plunged the knife into the bunny’s chest. It squealed then exhaled its last breath. Its suffering was quickly ended, but my suffering had just started.

I felt as if I was driving the blade into my own heart, as I pulled the knife out of the bunny my tears dried up. It's warm blood dripped onto the white snow, a little on my face. Father brought the bunny in and I walked behind him, looking saddened. Mother looked at me, equally saddened but proud at the same time.

She trotted up to me and said, "You did the right thing, it’s about survival.” She then wiped the spattered bits of blood off my face and kissed me on the forehead.

The pony in my head echoed the word over and over.

"Survival… Survival… Survival…"

Dad smiled and said, “It’ll get easier with time.”

I was shocked at what he said, but it rang true. It would get easier, I wish it wouldn’t. Killing shouldn’t get easier; it didn’t seem right. The pony in my head was crying as my eyes began to glaze. I forced a smile and nodded. Later at dinner I stared into a bowl of grey brown muck, with bits of vegetables dad had bought in town and the rabbit I killed. I couldn’t bring myself to eat any of it.

It was a relatively quiet dinner, I mostly thought about how I wanted to get stronger, but was still so weak on the inside. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing, after all I didn't want to become a monster.

One time dad insisted on getting us armor, but neither me or Sharp wanted to wear it. It felt too heavy for me anyway. Plus it kept snagging on my jacket, even though I wore it opened with the hoody down.

Despite living more or less out in the middle of nowhere, we weren't that far from a small town, known as Frost Crystal. To call it a town was a stretch, it only had a dozen or so ponies as permanent residents.

It, like the rest of the land, lived up the frost part. I guess that’s what happens when you live in a frozen tundra. It was a small settlement within a wall built out of old wagons and train cars, patrolled by guards in make-shift armor, sporting guns made of rusting pipes.

The most noticeable feature of the town was the flag in the middle, along with its symbol painted on the front gate. It was a menacing red horse skull. According to dad's lessons, we lived under a group called the 'Blood Skull.' They built this town and controlled the area. As I stated before I didn't really pay attention in class so that’s as far as I got.

There wasn't much to Frost Crystal, besides duct tape and sheet metal. The town consisted of a few ponies, a merchant whom was a jerk, a bunch of guards and my dad's long time friend, the doctor. He was a unicorn with a white mane, light grey coat and ruby red eyes and a red medical cross as a cutie mark.

He'd always wore an old doctor’s coat that was pretty tattered, and stitched on the front was a nametag that read. 'Doc.' Despite the cold, he always wore it open. He claimed to be as old as my dad but if that was the case, then he must have aged much better.

Every time I saw him he was nice to me, with a warm smile on his face. He was a really friendly pony. His hide showed his scars from his youth. I'd constantly bug him with questions that dad and mom would ignore, but he'd always dodge them, coming up with a different story for each question. He was quite interested in my Enclave attack story, calling me a hero for saving the bird, as well as giving me the nickname 'Bluebird.'

I never bothered to give it a name though, the bird I mean. Despite losing a wing, it was perfectly healthy. It kept trying to fly, although it will never be able to. It was tragic. What was even worse was the fact that one day it got out of its cage and ran away. I never saw it again after that. I did try to look for it, but in the end it was hopeless.

At this point in time, I was in the middle of my teen years and maturing. And by maturing I meant noticing girls. Before this point I hated going into town, I was shy around others. Now I was more confident. Well, at least with the daughter of a traveling merchant.

Her name was Orchid Night. We knew we'd only be together for a day or less, so we made the most of our time together. Playing and talking about stuff I can't even remember. At the end of the day, we said our goodbyes and she gave me a surprise kiss before running off.

Dad teased me about that for days, practically singing about it. "O’ my son is a stallion, kissing all the girls. Soon he'll roll in the hay and run off to play. O’ my son is a stallion." I guarantee you he was a bad singer, cringe worthy.

Everything was good, but the wasteland doesn't like it when ponies live without trouble. One night we were having a nice, normal dinner of cabbage soup, I think. Everything was calm, but that was the same as before a storm.

The air filled with the sound of bullets and gun fire. We barely had time to react. Dad flipped the table as Sharp grabbed our rifles. However I just sat in my chair, stunned by the situation. Mom grabbed me and held my head down behind the table with her. I didn't focus on the noise, the shouting from outside or the bullets. No I was overwhelmed, not with fear, but pain.

My head ached worse than ever. It felt like a crushing pressure on my skull. I didn't hear the noise because of an intense ringing in my ears. I couldn't see because my eyes didn't want to see. I didn't speak because I bit my lip until I drew blood.

My headaches were never this bad or this intense. I felt like I was choking in darkness as I struggled to breathe, my head overwhelmed in pain. There was one thing in my head besides pain, an image of the black door.

The door was rattling, sounding like something was clawing at it from the inside. I felt as if I was floating in darkness. I was unable to move, fear coiled around me like a snake. I knew I could move towards the door. but that just made my fear tighten, every fibre of my being telling not to, as my heart raced. Then I felt something warm drip on my head, my real head.

I opened my eyes as my headache disappeared as quickly as it came. This time my head was full of the fear of death. Not my own, my mom's. I looked up, hoping it wasn't blood. It wasn't. Mom was crying, cradling my head. I looked around, dad and Sharp were shooting at the attackers through the windows. Mom looked at me in surprise. I was about to speak when dad shouted at me.

"Help!" his voice was commanding and loud, louder than the gun fire.

Anyway, that was my life before.

Author's Notes:

This took a while, but I think it's finally good ^^ feel free to leave feedback and comments.

thanks to my awesome editors:

http://www.fimfiction.net/user/WeaponPrime https://www.fimfiction.net/user/EverfreePony https://www.fimfiction.net/user/Fair+Play

and

http://www.fimfiction.net/user/sheepishly_yours

Highly recommend you check out their pages and their amazing stories XD

last update: 18/10/17