I checked my legs again. The identical... (pair of leaves?) tattoos - one on each leg - were still there. I didn’t know how it got there. I just knew I didn't put them there. I hadn’t been drinking, there wasn't even any alcohol around I could have gotten. I was asleep, and then I woke up like this. I couldn’t let my parents see this...

There was a knock on my bedroom door.

“Amy! Wake up already! You have chores to do - so stop being lazy!” my little brother called from the other side.

“I’m up!” I got dressed as quickly as possible and I ran downstairs.

Breakfast was already made and I could smell something sweet cooking in the oven and knew it must have been my birthday cake. I was twenty-five today - May 4th - and they decided to make me a cake this year. I smiled a little as i walked into the kitchen.

“What took you so long to get up?”

“I had some trouble sleeping last night, Mom.”

“Were you staying up late reading again?”

“No.”

“I’ve told you a hundred times to not be reading when you’re supposed to go to sleep. Now eat your breakfast and be glad I still let you eat it even though you slept in.”

I sat down obediently and started eating. Blueberry muffins, but I was so stressed I couldn’t taste them. I kept catching glances at my mother, hoping there wouldn’t be anything she found me doing wrong while I was eating. It wasn’t like I’d jump on the table and start kicking things around or anything, it was stuff like if I put my elbows on the table or got too many crumbs on my shirt or something like that. It felt like she was just looking for excuses to be angry at me all the time, even if there wasn’t anything to be angry at in the first place.

After breakfast I went outside to do my chores, taking the axe off the porch with me.

The pieces of wood made a resounding *CRACK* as I began splitting the logs for the stockpile. A rather large tree had fallen in the woods close by and I was given the task to turn it all into useable firewood for the next Winter. I was glad to get some time to myself however.

*Crack* I lifted up the axe.

*Crack* “With these tattoos appearing they’re gonna find out about them and I
can’t let that happen.” I lifted up the axe yet again.

*Crack* “I’ve got to leave tonight while I still have the chance...”

Several hours later I had to stop. I shook out my hands and arms and went back inside for lunch. As I looked at what was left in the refrigerator I couldn’t help but have a craving for some pizza. It wasn’t like I could go anywhere to get anything like that - but it never hurt to dream a little.

After I ate a simple turkey sandwich I want back to my room. After blocking the door and making sure no one could see me, I lifted up a part of the carpet to look at a small list I made.

This was a list of what I’d need to get away from here. To finally be free to make my own way. And not have to feel like someone’s burden anymore....

And all of a sudden I heard someone coming up the stairs.

I quickly put everything back as quietly as possible, unblocked the door, and sat on the floor next to a bookcase in my room.

“Why aren’t you outside cutting up more wood?”

I looked up at my mother, being careful to not make eye contact. She always hated it when I made eye contact. “I got tired from cutting up the wood and didn’t want to strain my arm.”

“I guess that make sense. But I’ve told you before to always put the axe pack on the porch and not leave it on the ground.” she said angrily.

My eyes widen slightly as I realize I’d forgotten about the tool. “I’m sorry. I was so tired from cutting the wood that I just went inside and forgot about it for that moment.”

“Alright. Because it’s your birthday I’m letting it slide this once. But I’m not going to let you off this easily next time, and I won’t care if it’s your birthday then.”

“Yes ma'am.”

A few hours and a shower later I went back into the kitchen as I heard my dad come home.

The cake was already on the table, frosted and almost ready to eat. My little brother was already at the table while my mom was putting the candles on the cake. “You’re turning twenty-five today, right?”

“Right.”

“Alright. Was just making sure. I don’t want to put the wrong number of candles on the cake like I did last time it was your brothers birthday...”

I remembered that day. Her memory wasn’t the best and she accidentally put 17 candles on his cake instead of 16. He couldn’t stop laughing for several minutes but she wasn’t as thrilled about it. But at least now she decided to make sure this time before actually lighting the candles.

We all sat down at the table and my father placed the lit-up cake in front of me. “Make a wish, Amy.”

I closed my eyes and wished that my plan to leave would succeed. I couldn’t live like this anymore, a prisoner in a house in the middle of nowhere. I hardly ever got to go anywhere anymore, and when I was, it was under the constant supervision of my mother. I wasn’t able to go to college, get a job, anything. And I hated it.

Later around midnight, I was sitting down in my room, checking to make sure i had everything I needed.

That night was the night I was going to make my departure. I knew I’d miss them but I had to leave. Everything was ready. I’d been saving up some random long-lasting foodstuffs, along with some outdoor survival books, some clothes, a journal and pens, and anything else I thought I’d need. But only enough to fit in the backpack I’d been trying to keep hidden for the past two weeks.

I went downstairs quietly, making sure the path was clear. I’d already made sure all doors were oiled so that when I opened the back door it wouldn’t squeak. I made sure it was unlocked for me and went back upstairs and got my bag.

I returned back to the door, opened it, and ran for the woods. I knew the path I had to take like it was the back of my hand. I’d snuck out at night before, so I knew what to expect. I waited until I couldn’t see any lights from the house before turning on my flashlight. There was no need alerting anyone to the someone in the woods. I’d made sure the path was clear up to around this point yesterday so I wouldn’t trip in the dark.

*snap* I heard a sound to the right. And at this point I started moving as fast as I could. I figured it was most likely a harmless animal, but I just wanted to move as fast as I could before anyone woke up and found me missing. I doubt they’d call the police or anything - but I still had to be careful.

There were at least thirty miles before I would have gotten to a road. I walked about four miles an hour in the forest, so I’d estimated it would be almost eight hours before I was at the road.

As I was walking along, I couldn’t help thinking about the strange tattoos that had appeared on my legs. The idea was vaguely familiar, but I just couldn’t figure out what they reminded me of.

By the next day I was already in another state. My parent’s house was about 50 miles away from the Washington/Oregon border, and I had reached Oregon by morning.

The plan was to go to Portland, and make a new life for myself there. I used to have a friend who moved there and I hoped she’d be able to help me out.

I hoped she wasn’t mad at me because of the lack of contact. I’d been unable to email her or anything of the sort since she’d moved when I was twenty-three, due to my mother having had put the only computer in the house under lock and key and unsubscribing from the Internet after she found me sneaking on the computer one night.

My hair was starting to annoy me as I kept walking along the wooded road. It kept getting in my face, and it was almost like it was getting longer. And more curly? And light brown?!?

I immediately stop walking and look at my hair again. My hair isn’t supposed to be brown, it’s supposed to be light red! What’s going on with my hair?

I made sure no one was able to see me as I went into the forest. When I was far enough in the trees, I set down my backpack and took out a mirror.

I was not prepared for what I saw. My hair had become longer, more curly, and a light brown. Before my hair was straight, short, and light red.

What was even more shocking was what had happened to my eyes. They had changed from blue to dark brown!

“What in Tartarus is happening to me!?”

“Excuse me?”

I spun around. “Waitasecondwhatareyou?” I was looking at a small, grey-colored horse with huge eyes and a purple mane. That just talked. To me. In the middle of the woods.

“Um... I’ll explain in a bit. But, um, did you just ask ‘What in Tartarus is happening to me’?”

“I... I don’t remember?”

“I couldn’t help noticing that your hair is changing color right now, and so I was wondering if you noticed anything else weird happening to you. Like you get a cutie mark for no apparent reason, stuff like that?”

“A cutie what-now? And my hair is still changing color right now?” This was starting to be way too much information too fast with the little sleep I’d gotten.

I thought I was just starting to go a little nuts, so I decided to play along. For the time being, anyways.

The so-far-unnamed grey horse sighed. “Have you ever seen the show ‘My Little Pony’?”

“My Little Pony? It sounds like a show for little girls.”

She just stared at me for a few seconds and sat down. “Not that ‘My Little Pony’. I mean ‘My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic’.”

“No. I’ve never watched such a childish-sounding show. Why do you ask?”

“Because I think we’re turning into characters from the show. By the way, my name is Summer Hooves- it used to be Miranda Jenkins.”

“My name is Amy Faris.”

Author's Note

This is my first published chapter of anything. So feel free to let me know any ways I can improve my writing skills.