>My human, every morning at promptly six o'clock gets up out of bed.
>I sit in the living room, often listening to the soft voices on the television.
>The hissing and trickling sounds of hot coffee come from the kitchen tickle at my ears.
>He has a very specific routine, and by this time it is nearly complete.
>My hooves clip and clop against the linoleum floor, which causes him to turn his head as he is alerted to my presence.
>A shiver runs up my spine as his fingers find their way to a special spot behind my ear.
>I have lost count of the days I have been with this man.
>But each one has been a blessing.
>I recall little of where I was before this.
>He does not allow me to leave the house.
>He says it is for my own safety, my own benefit.
>The books he has mention that my love of him whilst living in this "prison" is called Stockholm Syndrome.
>I asked him once, if this was true.
>If I was only here as a prisoner.
>The things he showed me on the television and his computer frightened me.
>The things he said could happen to me, the stories he told me of a place called Roswell.
>The wars, the famines, the killings.
>Even if I was free to do so by my own will, I would not step outside of this house.
>I climb into a chair in the kitchen and scoot myself close to the table.
>He ruffles my mane a little bit as he places a decently sized bowl of mangoes, cherries, and bananas in front of me.
>All of it pitted, sliced, chopped, and delicately arranged into a smiley face.
>The cherries are lined up in a smile, a nose, and two eyes.
>The banana slices make up hair.
>And finally, the mango slices lie beneath the cherries and bananas to create the structure of the face.
>It is quite the treat, to be presented with something so unnecessarily complex each morning.
>My human sits across from me, eating two eggs and some toast.

>I faintly remember some of the first days that I lived here.
>He had made something called bacon one morning.
>The smell alone was enough to make me sick for the entire day.
>He stopped bringing meat into the house after that incident.
>As he brushes his hands together over his plate, he stands and exits the kitchen.
>The end of my night begins as soon as he leaves the room.
"Have a good day at work!"
>He never acknowledges those words.
>I finish my meal and dump the dishes in the sink.
>With as much haste as I can muster, I trot upstairs and into his bedroom.
>During the night, while I am awake and he is asleep, he dislikes me coming in here.
>I can understand how he feels, sleep is a very nice thing to experience.
>As I trot through his room, I smile.
>The very faint musk of his scent lingers in the air.
>To me, it is a very sweet smell, one that makes me smile and flutter my wings with utmost joy.
>A white dress shirt lies on top of a pile of dirty clothes.
>I pick it up and shake it out with a smile.
>There are no stains on it, and his scent is still embedded into its threads.
>With a little difficulty that I always seem to come across, I get the shirt on.
>The most obnoxious part of the shirt is how it holds my wings against my body.
>I do not mind this, however.
>It is merely a minor convenience, as I do immensely enjoy wearing my human's shirts.
>Especially when they are blessed with his scent.
>His bed stands about as tall as I am, my chin just barely being able to rest upon its covers.
>I leap on top of it and giggle as I bounce a little bit.
>But this is not my reason for being up here.
>One very long pillow rests at the head of the bed.
>This is my objective, each and every morning.
>I pounce upon it with a giggle, my kee's and skree's echoing throughout the house.
>I bury myself into the pillow and smile.

>As comfortable as I am, this is not the end-goal of my night.
>My human's computer makes a very loud and offensive "ding."
>It does this every morning, at this exact time.
>I swivel the small wooden platform on which it rests toward me.
>My human is incredibly smart.
>He can sit up in bed with his computer in front of him on this little platform that connects to the bedpost.
>The screensaver on it always makes me smile.
>It shows a picture of me and him, our cheeks pressed together with smiles drawn across our lips.
>It upsets me how he never smiles anymore.
>The screensaver disappears as I move the mouse.
>Several programs blink on the screen.
>I ignore them, and instead open a folder filled with pictures and videos of me and my human.
>It makes me smile as they begin to play in a slideshow.
>I snuggle into his pillow and wrap myself within his shirt as I watch the pictures fade in and out.
>One video in particular begins to play.
>My human says this is the first day that he ever found me.
>He walks across a rather large field in the middle of the fall.
>His footsteps stop as he comes across a small bundle of cloth and pony.
>Two dull orange eyes peak up at him from amongst the cloth.
>The pony whines softly and tumbles backward as my human reaches toward her, toward me.
>"Don't be scared, I won't hurt you."
>His soft voice eases the pony's nerves.
>I bury my face in the pillow, similarly to how I once buried my face in my human's chest the first time he ever picked me up.
>The video continues with him returning to his home.
>To our home.
>The video ends, and more play.
>Each one details a little bit of our days together, but the videos become shorter and shorter.
>Eventually they stop, and the slideshow starts anew.
>I do not mind his neglect, I know he has things on his mind.
>All I can do is make sure that he is welcomed home and relaxed.
>My eyelids grow heavier as I watch the slideshow once more, sleep eventually taking me as I cuddle into my human's pillow.

>The bed shifts slightly, causing me to stir.
>Two arms wrap around me and my human's pillow.
>I am not alarmed, because these two arms make me feel safe.
>I know almost immediately that they are my human's.
>The moon's light streams into the bedroom, and bathes me in its glow.
>The smell of my human's fresh musk fills my nostrils as I turn over to look into his eyes.
>A warm and comfortable sensation fills my heart as he hugs me tight.
>"Did I wake you?"
>I nod softly in response, and press myself as close to him as I can.
>"I'm sorry."
>His deep, gruff voice makes me feel safe.
>In any words that he offers me, I know that he will do all that he can to protect me.
>"Would you like to go outside?"
>I raise myself off of the bed and stare at him in disbelief.
"But you said I could never leave the house?"
>I notice the blood that stains his shirt.
>Just like nearly every shirt he comes home with after a long day's work.
>Only once have I ever asked him what he does outside of our home, to which his answer was "to keep you safe."
>"I think we can break the rules every once in a while."
>He sits up and helps me remove his shirt, just as he does every night before he goes to bed.
>But this time, I stretch my wings wide and giggle as he leads me downstairs and out the front door.
>The cool, fresh air of the night fills my lungs as my human stands beside me.
>"Go."
>On his mark, I pump my wings and take to the sky.
>The light of the stars and the moon cover the land as I fly as high as I can.
>I take this opportunity to survey the land around our home.
>The land spreads several dozen acres in all directions from the home, the borders marked by large concrete fencing.
>The concrete is topped with barbed wire and spikes.
>I notice other humans shambling around outside of the fencing, many of them wandering aimlessly.
>Their appearance frightens me so much that I fly back to my human as quickly as possible.

>He catches me as I drop into his arms, my tears of fear soaking his shoulder.
>"Did you see them?"
"Y-yes."
>He rubs my back as he takes me back inside.
>"They scare me as much as they scare you. But I'll keep you safe, I promise."
>He carries me into the living room and sits down on the couch.
>He turns the television on and strokes my mane as the lady on the news channel speaks.
>"It has been several weeks since the outbreak of this strange virus. Scientists and military personnel highly advise that all civilians stay indoors until further notice."
>A short video from a bird's eye view plays, showing hundreds of humans shambling throughout city streets and through fields.
>"Many major metropolitan areas have been quarantined, and just as many rural towns have been able to take enough of a stand to hold these... abominations back."
>Another short video, this time of police officers in small towns, plays.
>The officers document their findings on how to disable these shambling humans.
>My human sighs and shuts the television off.
>"I found you on the same day that this outbreak started. It's kind of silly, really."
>I look up at him, my eyes scanning his clothes.
>He must have changed them while I was flying outside, as they lack any filth or blood.
>"That fence is going to keep them out. I finished clearing the inside of the field of any of those things, so we'll be safe."
"Why did you take me in?"
>I have asked this question every single night since I can remember.
>It's always the same answer, but it makes me smile just hearing it.
>"If I let anything happen to you, I might as well be one of them."
>He lies across the couch with me on top of him.
>I press my ear to his chest and smile as his breathing slows and he falls asleep.
>He works so hard every day, just to keep me safe.
>Maybe tomorrow he will let me join him.
"Good night."