So this is my NEXT story,Ill be doing this quickly and hopefully fast.
Ive always been thinking that not many people have done this kind of story before,it isnt a O.C X Mane six for of a jab at the worlds social systems and how ponies/people can get into the wrong path of life before they even start.

To finish ends up,my O.C does indeed have mental problems,I am not trying to take the fun out of disabled people,some of my best friends are disabled and they manage life just as well as a normal person.

Anyway,BOLD for important information and Italics for thoughts,this will be in first rate and review,and enjoy!

Morning:Somewhere near ponyville.

*Beep beep*
Fucking alarm clock.
*Beep beep*
"Fuck off,Im trying to SLEEP HERE!".I shouted at the battered thing that served as my alarm clock. It had pissed me off too many times and I punched it hard,letting the mechanical thing slam into a nearby wall and finally break,it tocked a last time before going silent.
"Stupid thing,you really think you could wake me up?...shit you did".I realised that it was time to get up,and so I clusimly got out of bed,my short legs landing on the carpet beneath and I stood up straight.

Today was monday or something,a day for school in the local place,not the ponyville one for twats but a nice run down piece of shit.
I hated it,I hated everything,if your asking why then I dont know. I never know.

I realised I had been staring at a wall for too long and my stumach groweled,I was I opened my door and trotted down the the single hallway that my single floor house possessed.
It was just me and my dad now,where was he anyway...?
Where is he?,asleep?,drunk?,dead?.

"Dad,you up?".No asnwer from my dad,maybe he had finally gotten too drunk and not come home?.
"OI FAT FUCK,YOU UP?".I screamed at the top of my lungs angrily that dad had not asnwered the first time.

*Sound of a large pony falling out of bed+multiple empty alcohol bottles falling everywhere and a zombie like waking up noise*.

"Good,your get to the kitchen...Im waiting".I called out before heading to the some carrots and a apple and sitting down on a nearby chair.
It was pretty old and rickety,like it was going to die Dad although he wasnt old,he just drank enough alcohol to fill a couple of barrels course when he didnt grind the stuff,I of helped with my "problems".

My "problems",first of all I was a bit socially akward,being a bit slow and not getting the joke?,it also took a year longer for my speech to colt with mental problems?.That was me all over,I got bullied sometimes until I learned that I could batter the hell out of anything that annoyed me. The result?.Three colts and a mare with broken legs,broken wings,broken name it,I smashed them on the ground.

Thats lead to my second problem:Serve anger issues,I am always angry,never calm and certaintly never able to talk in a "nice" way.
I know I got it off Dad,he was either drunk or pissed and I respected him for that,we got into fights sometimes and the social-fucking-services always tried to get me moved to a relatives they would ever take me in?.

Third problem:Drinking and Acohol problems:Dad used to drink from a early age,he had the same issues as going on the same path,I can down more bottles than a stallion at my age pity,crying and punching anything that annoyed me. Social services hated that too.
Fuck them,and everything about them.

"Mmmmmm,uuuuuhhhhhggggg,aghhhhh".I heard my dad drunkly say before headbutting the down and landing head first on the carpet.
"Well done...the time its taken you too get up and fall down again has increased".I say in a congrualtive-sarcastic way.
"...uhfffuck rttyou".He said some gibberish and then threw a punch...
That hit the wall next to him,first lesson when drunk:Make sure its not the wall you hit.

"Nice punch,Im off for school hope you dont die or social services will fuck me".Dad moaned something so I said my goodbyes and headed for the shit hole that I called school.

School:(Otherwise known to O.C as shithole)

As I trotted down the beaten path to my school:Otherwise known as a shithole and...many others names that I cant be bothered to say,too many.
Even the air around this place smelled funny,like it was trying to get away from the school,I could understand with that.I always wanted to get away myself and just drink for the rest of my life,worked well for dad,why wont it work well with me?,his son?.

Some rabbit got infront of me,so I stamped on its face and let it die in the ground beneath me.

Fortuntly or unfortauntly (depending on how you look at it).I got in the "shithole" as soon as the bell went,for class.
"Come on colts and fillies,its time for learning".A teacher mocked as she tried to shout without any enthuaism.
Why she even bothered to try for this job is beyond me.

Moving on.I stalked down the dusty looking up at the sun panels as they ratteled in the of them even falling off and hopefully hitting something on the way.
This weird looking,shit gathering place was the bane of my existance,like it would always haunt me.
Pegs for hanging hats on that were never used,lockers thats doors were opened and closed so many times that they no longer did either and were just locked,teachers that took this as a that made fun of anything and everything;Including me,although they didnt so much now as they used too.

"Class is now in session,do not hit each other, offensive or make my life a pain becuase this gets subtracted from my pay".A little while later,after getting through the corriders without dying,making my way into the dying again.I was now listening to the same old teacher,same old boring thing he said everyday.

My desk,held together with tape and glue.
Everyone elses desk?.Held together with tape and the teachers,no difference whatsoever in this building.

"Ok,so what is 29+43-50?".The stallion-teacher asked,waving his hand around trying to get everyones attention.
I figuired I could get this one,prove Im not as dumb as people say.
"Teacher?".I ask,getting his notice.
"Is it 30?".I shout out,trying to get the asnwer right.

"No,try again".He grinned,I swear I could see something on his face,like he thought he was better than me.
"Dipshit,your dumb you know".A "classmate" from behind insulted me.

He knew what was coming him.I always get very angry,very ask me why,its just who I am.
"And your going to be broken shit".I asnwer back and punch him straight in the face before rounding it up with a headbutt.
His nose started to bleed.

I looked down at him,the pathetic thing was crying.I dont know what for of course.I never know at all.
"Go to the head office,tell them what you have-".The teacher tried to say.
"Done ,say Im sorry..bla bla bla".Before I cut him off.

I got out of that place quickly,it looked the same as the corrider,weird and a shithole.


" just punched him right?".The head teacher (or whatever her name was) asked me,in a rather bored fashion.
"Pretty much".I asnwered more bored than she was.
"Yeah...have you ever heard of "conflict resuloulation?".She tried to suggest some fancy name that I never heard of.

"Con-fli-ct...resuloulation?"Making some kind of noise and spelling it out loudly I replied to that fancy setance/word of hers.

This room that the only decent member of staff was housed in...was good looking for had polished walls,a desk that wasnt held together with tape and glue and most likely alcohol that she used to keep herself sane throughout the day.
"So you wont do it again?".The headteacher said,knowing that I would..
"Nope".I answered back,in the usual answer that I gave whenever this regular kind of thing happened.

"Yeah,one more thing..."She looked at a piece of paper,no a letter with.. "RE,my name on it".

This doesnt look good,is it social services and they crap again?.

"Take a look"She gave me the letter and I read it to myself,well read the bits that I couldnt understand,some of the students were smarter and could write a letter...I cant at all,something wrong in my brain apparently.

"Dear Mrs Crowbar face.
I am writing to infrom you about (insert name here)s father was arrested by social services early today.
His son is going into our care now,we will find him a nice family to live with and he will enjoy it.

Tell him to pack his stuff and move to (insert one of the mane6s adresses).
She will expect him soon.

Twattish Twait (Social services).