Raven Writingdesk was not having the best of days. The stress of going to college at Canterlot University was not really the problem. The lack of female companionship in recent months was, admittedly, probably a contributing factor but not a cornerstone. Rather, it was the fact that he had grown up in Ponyville where even if one did not know every pony by name, an individual could at least recognize faces and cutie marks. And because of the relatively small community, everypony knew which ponies straight shooters, which were friendly, which were crazy, and which were just full of manure. But in Canterlot…

Raven was certain that Canterlot had the exact same proportion of friendly, crazy, and moronic ponies as Ponyville did. The problem was the population was approximately twenty times greater. This meant that for every ten complete idiots that one had to avoid in Ponyville, there were approximately two hundred to avoid in Canterlot. And at this precise moment, it felt as though every single one had packed into his 201 Anatomy and Physiology class.

When the entire class was quiet and they let the professor go about her work of teaching, things were fine. Raven could listen to the lecture in the back of his mind while he worked on his latest personal writing project, which had swords, lost love, revenge, blood, and no redemption. All in all, he was quite pleased with his progress. However, today he could not concentrate.

"… and that is why zebras have stripes."

There was a collective chorus of "ahhh!", as though three quarters of the class had never considered that perhaps because zebras hailed from the hottest place on the planet, it would likely behoove them to have hair that would simultaneously disperse heat and protect from damaging sunlight. All white and a pony would suffer vicious sunburns resulting in skin cancer; all black hair would cause overheating followed by eventual death in times of draught. But together, a perfect balance of protection from both. By Celestia, did nopony ever actually use their minds to work out simple problems like this? Did they really have to be spoon-fed everything?

Yes, today, every single one of the idiots in the classroom kept opening their mouths, one after another, asking questions so simple that Raven actually felt physical pain in his head. It was not merely a headache, and was beginning to spiral into a migraine. A migraine that felt as though it was about to boil the fluid in his eyeballs and send hydrochloric acid rushing through every major vein and artery in his cerebellum. Worse, it was so intense that he could not even channel the rage into writing. Finally, it became clear he would find no relief. Even though more than an hour remained in the class, he packed his saddle bag and strode out of the cavernous lecture hall, his hoof falls on the tiled floor fighting the professor's voice for control of auditory priority. Uncaring, he did not attempt to tread more quietly, eventually exited the hall, then did his level best to not scream in agonizing rage as he tried to force his way free from impermeable cloud of imbecility that he seemed to be cloaked within.

Raven walked out of the building, flinching as he passed a quartet of idiots bleating excitedly about Philosophy 101. It's 101 Philosophy, you dry-brained simpletons! It will be completely thrown out in 121 and 201! His walk accelerated to a hard trot as he crossed the campus, and he did his best not to scowl at a group of youthful fraternity stallions and sorority mares engulfed in a massive game of ultimate Frisbee. By the Moon's Light, is your self-confidence truly so low that you must shout "Look at how much fun I'm having!" through the context of your actions? Do you have to force every passing pony to watch you flaunt your excellence at a sport? Oh, wait, you don't excel, otherwise you would be here on scholarship!

Sweet Celestia it was in his head! He did not hate these ponies, he did not even know these ponies! What in Equestria was wrong?! Raven trotted in as mild-mannered a fashion as he could manage, but his breaths began hissing in and out from between his teeth as though he were attempting to climb a mountain and his mind began to burn as images of blood and carnage were seared into his mind. A lecture hall full of ponies with their skulls emptied like pumpkins at Nightmare Night. An entire philosophy class executed, with "ceci nést pas une massacre" painted in blood on the wall. And a red field of bodies, skinned to show their toned physiques.

Finally, when Raven was off campus and into Canterlot proper, the rage ceased to build, though it took nearly two more blocks before he realized that his teeth were still so firmly clinched that his jaw was actually in pain. He took a deep, shaking breath, trying to calm himself down, as though he had just suffered a waking nightmare. He supposed he had, and took another breath.

"It's alright," he whispered to himself under his breath. "It's alright. You are not there any more." Another deep breath; he felt his back and neck begin to relax. "You aren't there."

Raven decided on staying away from the campus for a few hours. True enough, he would have to return there eventually, but for now… For now he could pretend to have another life. One with fewer idiots. Or at least fewer that he had to deal with.

"By all of the black nights of Nightmare Moon," he breathed, his right mind returned, "how often is this going to keep happening?"

Raven looked across the avenue at passing ponies. His eye caught a pretty young thing, perhaps his own age, smiling broadly as she talked with her gaggle of friends. Why couldn't he be like those happy individuals? They lived in the same world he did. Breathed the same air, drank the same water. Certainly, with his mother's passing all those years ago, he had grown up with a little more heartache than most, but that did not explain, or excuse, these bloody fantasies that continued to surface in his mind. These waking rage nightmares had to be chemical, and if they were chemical, all he had to do was find the right trigger, the right button in his mind and he would be in control.

Raven stole one more glance at the departing ponies then, deciding he would have to face like sooner rather than later, turned around and headed back toward campus, and his dorm room. There was homework to do, after all, and he was not about to let these angst-y outbursts run his life. So resolved, he climbed the stairs of his dorm with new purpose, paused only long enough to grab his mail before ascending. Yes. Today was a hard day, but tomorrow would be better.

Upon reaching his room, Raven shrugged his saddlebag onto his bunk and began to hoof through the mail. Bill. Bill. Advertisement. School notice. Ponyville. Ponyville? Raven frowned at the neatly penned address. His father was the only one in Ponyville who would write him and he certainly did not have this quality of penmanship. And that was even more certainly not his address. Perplexed, he opened the letter.

"Mr. Raven Writingdesk,

"I am sorry to bear ill news in such an impersonal manner, but it is my sad duty to inform you that two nights hence, your father was admitted to Ponyville General with stroke-like symptoms. The doctors did what they could and your father fought bravely, but in the end, he succumbed…"

Raven was burning the letter. Or rather his hooves were. He could see his own reflection in the window before himself as he held his Anatomy and Physiology book over the burning letter, then dropped it on his desk when it too became engulfed. Other textbooks followed, but somehow he never broke his own gaze. Finally, he turned away from himself, mildly aware of the inferno that now began to eat away at his room. He left them. He walked calmly down the halls, then down the staircase, then out of the building as smoke and fire belched from five different windows.

He would not return.