Ponies are all about smiles, laughter and happiness, some of them are after wealth, fame and royalty and others, others are just sick. A “collector” as he calls himself. A unicorn who finds appeal in owning the rarest and most unique creatures he can find, only to turn them into his own personal circus. Sealed away behind a magical glass wall, living in a golden cage I and many others have been spending our days living through this misery. The feeling and image of the sun is nothing more than a faded memory, the feeling for time, long gone. There is nothing I can do about it, there is nothing that I want to do about it. My desire to live has been shattered long ago, long before I ended up in this place. Every day ponies come to this place, to point, to smile, to laugh at us. I can barley see their faces, but their mocking smiles have burnt themselves into my mind. I don’t have to look at them anymore knowing that they are staring me down. But there is something in the way they are looking at me that causes a unrest deep within myself. Something tries to tell me that this can’t be the end. Something desperately tries to convince me that I am strong enough to break out but… “What? Are you daydreaming again?!” The loud snarly voice broke through the thoughts of the changeling like a stone through glass. Phobos had turned his back at today’s visitors, his eyes aimlessly gazing through the fish tank, watching as the fish in it were swimming their rounds, over and over again. They were prisoners, just like himself. “Argh!” Phobos could feel a hard yank at the collar he had around his neck, the chain was pulled to force the male to look at his “owner”. “I did not buy you so you could upset my friends! Now turn around and sit straight! I took good money from them so they can see my collection and I won’t let you ruin my day!” Another hard yank of the chain followed, causing the changeling to hiss in pain, under the collar his skin was wound, too tight was the lock, too rough the movement of the metal. Knowing that this could only be the start, Phobos did as he was told and turned his body around for the crowd to see. His head was raised as well to be face to face with the raging unicorn, who’s face suddenly changed from anger to happiness. “See? There is a good boy, why not do so right from the start? Now smile pretty boy, the audience is waiting.” The master was happy, but Phobos expression was plagued with sadness. This was not the life he wanted, he never asked for it. He wanted his freedom back.