Author's Note: Alright, everyone this is my first attempt at a MLP fanfiction, or any fanfiction for that matter, so feedback is appriciated. Any comment-comments, complaints or otherwise-are all apprieciated and if anyone has any thoughts on how to improve I will give it serious consideration. I beg for you all to bear with me on the first two chapters as they will be short, but they're laying the ground work for the main character. I promise the chapters will be getting longer and better as I start to hit my groove and get a better feel of the story.
The midnight air gently winds its way down the city streets, carrying with it a cold, bitter chill. It's the kind of chill that sinks deep past your skin and crawls into your blood and bones, almost as if it was trying to freeze you from the inside out. Like it was trying to turn your very soul to ice. I sit alone on the roof of a two story building, the wind blowing harder, trying to turn me to ice, but it doesn't faze me in the least. How could it turn my soul to ice when I had none to freeze?
I suppose I should give a name, that's what journals are for right? I'm supposed to give my deepest, darkest secrets life in the form of dried ink on white paper bound and sealed by a black cover? I'm supposed to share my feelings and pour my soul out onto these pages. But again I ask, how am I supposed to share what I do not have? No, these pages shall not be the bearers of idle gossip nor the dwelling of meaningless thoughts and feelings. No, they will be the keepers of a story. A dark and tragic story of a life filled with naught but pain and rage.
A story of a boy who lived as a shadow, unnoticed and unwanted, a slave to the savage currents of the world he lived in. Who survived by shedding blood and spilling it. And it is the story of the man he became that took back his role as master of his own fate. Who faced down the demons that haunted him since birth and came back intact. Who, in darkness worse than many had known, found the light and used it to castaway the shadows of his past. It is the story of one who would watch all creation burn in the flames of hell, and how the fate of a world he never knew existed depended on him. It is a story of a destroyer who carried in one hand salvation, and in the other hand damnation.
This is a story written by own hand and told in my words and the words of others who witnessed it. You can accept the truth of these words or cast them aside as lies. The choice is yours. This is the honest account of how I came to be here and how I hold this world in the palm of my hand, either to nurture and support it, or to squeeze it and turn it to dust.
This is my story. Don't like it? Do something about it.
