You sigh and grimace, looking over the forest that surrounded your home. It had been a year since you had been honorably discharged. Looking back now, you shudder. You had been in the first SFOD-D, or Delta force.  At the time, you were proud.  There was absolutely no reason not to be, and you were good at what you did. However, no matter what a man is good at, there are always things that could get to him.  You had been going on a patrol around a small village in Iraq, helping the already-stationed soldiers there. But that day, that damned day, was the sole reason you had been discharged. Your fists were clenched now, you had to stop thinking about it... but the memories were to much to handle.  You let your mind take you back, back to the place you had promised yourself you would never go back to.

"Hey, Marks!", you call, hoping to get your driver's attention.

"What do you want?", he said, frowning and turning around.                                                                                

"You really think that Taliban's got a nest 'round this route?"

"No", he said,"I Think they're too dumb to come up with a plan even as simple as that."

You take this into consideration, smiling to yourself as you picture an insurgent trying unsuccessfully to formulate a battle-plan.  Your thoughts are cut short by a loud noise and a scream up ahead.

You slowly peer out of your window. What you see next will stay with you for the rest of your life.  Ahead is what is barely recognizable as a half of a Humvee, and several broken bodies lying near it. A hole in the road was evident for an I.E.D.                  

"EVERYBODY GET DOWN, NOW!" a voice screams as the first shots, from where nobody knew yet, rang out.

You snapped out of it, realizing you were still at your house. your fists were almost white from squeezing them so hard in a fist. You think back again...

"Damn it, Bryantt!" you say to the support gunner perched on the hood of the Humvee. You and him had both gotten the convoy in a sort of circle, and had been using the vehicles as cover.  "What did I do now?!", he replies.  "You really haven't pin-pointed that fire yet?", you say scanning the vacant road for another tell-tale flash."Well, It's kind of hard to do when he ain't sho-" he didn't finish. A shot rang in the distance. You pause.  Your eyes widen as you realize what had just happened. You sputtered. something was wrong  with you, too; but you couldn't tell what yet.  You feel it, a warm feeling across your face.  When you put your hand to your face, you know what it is instantly.  Blood.  You hear a soft whimper. He was alive! You turned him around, signaling for the medic.  A few more shots sounded as he awkwardly shuffled over, aware that he was under fire. A few men returned fire in various places, but you weren't paying attention. The medic turned Bryantt over. His jaw had been torn almost off, the bullet hole going through his throat.  Gasping for air, you just notice the increase in shots from somewhere behind the convoy.  In an audible twang, one grazes the side of the Humvee you were taking cover behind. At this moment, you notice a hand on your leg. You look down, and discover it was Bryantt.  When he spoke, even though it was barely understandable, you would never forget it.  "I... wanna go home..." Was all he said before he passed. You gasped, and felt something snap inside of you.  You began breathing heavily,your vision becoming clouded. Without thought, you grab your weapon: a standard issue M4 Carbine, and spin around.  You see what caused this: several insurgents, firing at your convoy from a  barely noticeable indention or two in a large rock pile.  Now infuriated, you began firing on them with all of your might, pounding the bullets into them with the heat of a thousand suns.  Long after they are dead you keep shooting. They would pay for this, not just for Bryantt, but you also found yourself blaming them for every problem you could think of, every pr- "STOP!" You blink, and realize what you had just done.  In front of you were two bodies that were little more than gelatin. You turn around, and see the worried faces of your squad, and the rest from the convoy.

That was what you remembered, and it has plagued you for years.  You had flashbacks; sometimes set off by normally innocent things, like a balloon being popped.  You cried for no reason. You were in no condition to continue like this.  Your once loving wife had left you, and you felt you had no reason to live. because of your disability, you felt you were a failure.  You had prepared for this day.  Beside you lay a small pistol.  "look at me now, mom..." you whispered to yourself. Slowly, you raised the pistol. Before you could squeeze the trigger, it fell to the floor.  "What the..." Your hand started to glow. This couldn't be real, no way it could be real. Soon, your entire body was glowing. Everything started to go fast, appeared as if you were witnessing entire days go by in seconds, milliseconds. Suddenly, everything stopped, and you fell to the floor.

When you came to, you were in your military fatigues. weird, you thought.  You were In a field, surrounded by a deadly-looking forest. your hand reached something; your duffel bag. Looking inside, you found clothes and several MRE's. Looking around once more, you notice your weapon. Off In the distance, you hear the sound of civilization. Your curiosity got the best of you, and grabbing your weapon you started walking to the sounds of distant laughter.

Walking towards the serene sounds ahead, you find that all of the voices in the distance sound strangely feminine.  Hopefully you would find a mature adult; these voices sounded as if they belonged to children.  Still, you do not let yourself become unfocused.  No matter what you heard, your house had still disappeared, and you wanted to get to the bottom of this.

A few minutes later, the unintelligable chatter had become somewhat understandible.  Huh, well, at least you know they speak English.  Crouching behind some bushes, you peer through and see what looks like a rainbow-colored... horse with... wings?

"Da fuq?" you mutter to yourself.  Looking closer, you see what appeared to be another horse,  much smaller than the other.  This must be the one you heard laughing, you think to yourself.  This one is orange, with a purple mane, about the size of a lab puppy.  Nope, no logic here.  

Your head begins to hurt.  "What the HELL am I on?" you ask yourself.  With your focus centered on the orange... filly... you failed to notice that the bigger one was gone.  You feel a small poke on your shoulder.  Turning around, you nearly have a heart attack. It's the rainbow one.

"What the HAY are you doing, and why are you stalking a filly?!"

You are to stunned to speak, and let out a not-so-manly gasp.

"Why, I oughta kick your flank, you creep!"

Slowly realizing what is about to happen, you decide now is the best time to speak up.

"No no no no! I wasn't stalking her, I was just-" By now, the little one had walked over.

"What the hay are you?!" she said.

"A Creep," the rainbow one said, "and watch your language."

The little one in turn blushed.  Getting frustrated, you speak up once more.

"I am NOT a creep, I was trying to see who was making that noise.  Now, WHO in god's name are you?"

Rainbow-head got a smug look on her face.  "The names Rainbow.  Rainbow Dash, the fastest flyer in all of Equestria!"

You have the worlds most skeptical look on your face.  "What's Equestria?"

The two pony-horse thingies looked dumbfounded.  "The nation you are in, dumb-dumb!" spoke the little one.

"NATION? Hold up, last time I checked, I was in the U.S."

Rainbow Dash looked thoughtful for a moment.  "Nope. Never heard of it."

You have a minnie heart-attack.  Clicking your heels together, you begin to chant "There's no place like home, there's no place like home..."

Rainbow looked to you, and then to the little one.

"Come on, Scoots," she said, "Let's show this guy to Twilight!"

"Scoots" nodded enthusiastically, as if she'd agree with anything Rainbow said.

"Come on, dude.  We have a friend that might be able to help you."  She leaned in closer.  "But be warned, I have my eye on you."  Behind her, "scoots" was doing the sign for "watching you."  You groan.  You know this was going to be a long day.