The halls were crowded with peperoni faced dickheads and valley girls with so much makeup they could be mistaken as clowns. This place was a hell scape for those who didn't fit those two fragile categories. Quite frankly I quickly became the unaccepted member of the little cult like society within the walls of the high school. I brushed my hair from my oiled forehead, becoming annoyed quickly as the rouge fell back into place upon my forehead. My uniform- annoyingly -refused any free movement for some strange reason, and it stubbornly and stiffly allowed me to walk as if it had a grudge against my slim form. I'd had enough...

"Damn his... Fucking uniform... And this school..." I muttered under my breath as I moved with the crowd as they filtered and trickled into the small class rooms. Some left the bathrooms and others moved around the corner to ditch their classes. This was annoying me, only I truly had to wear a uniform. Everyone else was able to-

"BALADIA ROSE!!! We do NOT use that language in this school! I know you can't get this through that thick, little," her next words were laced with venom as they stabbed into the air. "black brain of yours, but this is a place of civilization and class! Not you and your hooligan, heathen kind! Get down to the student services office immediately before I call security and have you thrown out for threatening me!!" The woman's voice was completely laced with venom and malice. I slowly turned to the old southern woman and gave a gentle sweet smile. More than she deserved.

"Yes ma'am, Mrs. Rabid." I croaked out as I turned and walked away from the monster of a woman. I gave a quick glance back to see her glaring as I rounded the corner to the office. There was a small moment of alarm as my eyes widened. I had almost slipped on the floor, a 'wet floor' sign barely visible against the wall. I wasn't keen on slipping and walking into he office with a wet uniform. Then they'd have security called and they'd drag me back to the janitors closet to get a new uniform... 900 out of 901 times they'd leave me locked inside, and I didn't want to have to deal with lock picking my way out of a janitors closet. Knowing the school they'd spin it to look like I was about to steal something.

I stopped by the bathroom to gather my thoughts and try and calm my purely unbridled rage at the racist teachers of this school. I'm 15, and a high school student, not a professional lawyer. The principle is equally as racist as Mrs. Rabid. Every chance he gets he blames me for everything. I swear he'd even blame me for the failing of global warming if he could.

I closed my eye's and took in a deep, slow breath.

Darkness consumed the surrounding beings and this made me smile softly.

I slowly let it out and slowly opened my eyes, returning to the world of the visual.

The disappointment of this moment was great. I wished I could just... Go... To a place different fro this. To a different home, to a different place.

I looked into the mirror and the face of an African goddess stared back at me. I could never quite comprehend who this was... This could never be me.

Beauty poured from the face of this woman. This stranger trapped behind the glass. Deep, chocolate brown skin stretched down the strangers face and body, giving her the look of a beautiful African aborigine woman. Her body was slim, fit and ready to run after any prey that got into he line of sight. Her forehead broad and gentle and pouring out the sense of knowledge and advise of the wisest of the village elders. Her eyes, a beautiful grassy emerald green, and seeming to tear into your soul to see your deepest unconfessed sins. Her cheeks were defined, yet soft, seeming to make her look older, wiser and jollier than most of the kids her age. Her chin was heavy and extremely defined, her jaw soft and round yet still having an element of foreign beauty. Her lips were red, ruby red to be exactly correct, and they'd move into a natural smile whenever she'd flex her flat bridged nose.

I sat against the wall staring at the goddess before me, perplexed on how I could have inherited this from my parents. My eyes drifted to my lower form and sure enough it was a match to the one in the mirror.

My eyes snapped to the clock on the bathroom wall, and it read 10:20 AM. I'd been standing here for 10 minutes watching my own every move... I felt the intense urge to wave goodbye to the stranger in the mirror but I declined. Although as soon as I bent down to splash water onto my face, I thought I caught her hesitating to copy me. I shook my head and smiled softly, straightening up as I spoke softly out loud to the stranger in the mirror.

"Soon... Soon it'll be over. Just a few more months." And with that I turned to the door with a rekindled smile. I was ready to face the wrath of the evil principle behind the door and in the depth of the school. I opened the door, and stepped out. I walked with renewed purpose. These fools couldn't break me! They can't tell me my place! Only I can! I... I... I slipped on the wet floor.

I prepped for stars to appear before my vision and yet nothing seemed to happen. The only thing that did was darkness...

I'm not sure how long I've been falling... Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? Months? Years?! I couldn't hear... I couldn't see. There was a feeling of intense vertigo surrounding my stomach and destroying my sense of movement.

I heard the wind rushing by. Rushing by faster than wind ever should. I couldn't wrap my head around the situation and I called out. My throat burst out in burning pain and I sputtered and coughed as hard as I possibly could. Wheezing. I felt like I had tried to eat cinnamon without anything to wash it down. I regained control of my eyes and ears.

I sat up, coughing and sputtering like a child who ate something spicy. Probably something with the fall. I quickly stood up among the waist high flowers and grass, looking around my little clearing. There was nothing but woods for hundreds of miles around. I couldn't even see any rising smoke from anywhere. Coughing fits aside, I could now properly breath and analyze the area. I turned and walked slowly into the lush woods under the grey sky, beginning to go mad with panic. I went with my instincts and ran as fast as I could, bellowing out in a loud yell for help, hoping my screams could draw help. There was little to no result... I gave up and rested my throat, gently rubbing it and sighing. There was no one... I watched the colossal trees sway in the wind, the canopy was high above my head. I sat for hours, contemplating what could have happened to me whilst I was there. I slipped... Was kidnapped? No no... I slipped and fell into a coma and now I was dreaming? That doesn't sound right... It didn't feel right... But I don't know.

My thoughts were interrupted by a familiar sound... The sound of a mighty American bird of prey. I turned around slowly to see the majestic beauty in it's natural habitat and sure enough there it was! Circling higher than the tree tops, and in the clouds slightly. Seeing them sent a weary feeling through my body. I couldn't put m finger on it... But... It wasn't right. Slowly, I slunk deeper into the tree line. The bird saw this and dove at me, causing me to screech. When it dove past, I could see it was, in fact NOT, an eagle. Before me stood a beast only described in mythology. A beast with golden brown fur and cloud white feathers. Orange bird talons and the back paws of a lion the beak and scream of a bird. It quickly became apparent what this was. It was a griffon... It's talon swiped at my face, gouging a small, long, flesh wound from the bottom of my jaw to the corner of my mouth. A loud cry of fear came about upon my vocal cords, and I tore off running through the jungle like woods.

The griffon had it's partner hot on my tail as I hauled ass towards freedom. The beating wings quickly signifying my own death coming to collect its toll. I was crying, running and crying. There was nothing but fear. I had been running for over 40 minutes, cross country really was good for something after all. My lungs were heaving and my legs were aching. My body was sore, ad begging for me to stop moving. The sound of beating wings echoed behind my exhausted movements. My body was already showing signs of giving out, and if the beating wings were any indication... I was screwed.

Author's Notes:

Hey... Readers! If you're reading this, let me know on a scale of 1 to 10 on what you think and take it with a grain of salt, because i've only ever written this one prolog for my little pony. Point out the spelling errors and grammer mistakes and I'll tell if their intentional or not. Thank you for reading, and please only respectful crutiqes.