Foxfire's Tail (extended)

"Blank flank!"    "Bitch!"  "Stupid!"   "Fresh meat!"        "Prick!"      "Changeling in disguise!"      "Evil!"

"Ugly!"    "Awful!"       "Lazy-ass!"       "Harlot!"      "Slut!"      "Worthless!"  "Tight sheep!"  "Stuck-up!"

"Nameless!"   "Obese!"   "Anorexic!"  "Beige trash!"      "Vampire!"     "Werewolf!"        "Demon!"    "Selfish!"

"Wretched whorse!"     "Foal-less brat!"       "Two-timing liar!"    "Snitch!"   "Bad artist!"      "Teacher's pet!"

I never heard such foul words in my life, and from fillies and colts no less. Who taught them these things, and why? Sure, I was nameless and a blank flank, those much were true. Foal-less was also undeniable, as I was a foal myself. How can a foal get another foal? Beige was half-true; that was my coat color. Trash? I didn't think so. What on earth was a lazy-ass again? Changeling? At the time, I thought it was more than absurd. But that comes a bit....later. Artist was a vague term used for my stick-pony drawings. Aside from telling the teacher and watching her take the ruler out and commence with the beatings of my horrible classmates, drawing was my only means of escape from this world. I had this imaginary world where everypony was nice to me, where everypony was understanding of one another. At the heart of this imagination was Princess Luna and her elder sister, ruling the world in Harmony and Good Chaos alongside Discord, a Draconequus who can best be described as a weird chimera-type beast. I wasn't a bad artist, I was just underdeveloped. After being scared witless by Luna during Nightmare Night, I began looking up to her. Her inner beauty, those marvelous black wings, those turquoise eyes.... let's just say, upon seeing her, my jaw dropped. Malevolent, yet well-meaning. I wanted to be her personal student.

-Foxfire sighs like she's doing chores- You wanna know what I looked like then? Fine. I was a beige coat filly of about thirteen years of age. My eyes were dark grey-blue and my mane was gold, brown, and red in that order. Just those three colors in streaks. Oh, I was still a blank flank. I was an earth pony. I vividly remember that day like it was only a few hours ago. I heard cutie marks were a rite of passage into adulthood in my family, which is why I referred myself as a filly back then. I know, my family was weird. Most of us were earth ponies who remained blank flanks. But here's what's really strange: My dad was a unicorn by the name of Mechanical Gear Flowerfeather. He had a peachy coat and a black mane which he kept tied back. He wore glasses and had a little beard he'd shave during the summer but let grow during winter. He stared at the sun too long, hence the glasses. And he had this really cool black cowboy hat! His cutie mark was a blueprint map and a gear, and his talent was carpentry and mechanics. He worked at this place where they make ovens for crying out loud, and I went there once and it was cool! -Foxfire looks at family picture and wipes off a tear-

The picture of me back then with my family, you ask? It's the only thing I have left of them now, aside from my favorite teddy bear and other stuffed toys, the toys that belonged to my sister, my dad's gun and sword collection, and a few antiques mom used to own, among other things. I know, dad was a bit of a nut. But when I found out why that was, everything changed very drastically. It all happened so damn fast I can't tell you what happened next without rambling on and on. How I found out why dad was a bit of a nut is also how I became who I am now. -Foxfire clears her throat and takes a deep breath-

I was trotting home from school with determination and anticipation. I wanted to dress up as an angel for Nightmare Night, which was two days after this..err....event. It was any other day as I walked to my front door as those bullies kept calling me names I already mentioned. I put my hoof on the door, pushed it open, and walked inside expecting my parents to chase off the bullies. The living room was dark for some reason, the only lights were from the door and windows.

"Mom? Dad? Sister?" I called, expecting an answer. There was none.

I breathed in deeply, then shouted. "MOM! DAD! SISTER!" Again, silence greeted me. The darkness was mocking me in some way as the bullies stopped their little name-calling charade. I looked back at them, and all that was scrawled in their eyes was shock. Even they knew something was wrong here, and they nodded for me to go inside. Steeling myself, I walked inside the dark living room as my hoofsteps echoed into the darkness of the house. I knew deep down something wasn't right, but I'd never know what that was unless I explored the small house. There was a flickering light in the bathroom between the kitchen and living room, so I stepped inside that room first. It was clean and pristine before, but then it was covered in blood.

So. Much. Blood.

I looked everywhere in the bathroom hoping for a sign of life and nearly choked on my very heart. In the sink lay my sister's head, a look of terror frozen on her face as her mouth was crudely stitched shut into an eerie grin. Her decapitated body lay in pieces in the tub, her hind quarters looking like somepony tore her open three times and then stitched it back together. Blood and this white substance were intermingling in the tub because a hoof was shoved into the drain. In other words, plugged up said drain.

"Sister...." I heaved, looking at her frozen brown eyes. Her blond mane was stuck against her grey pelt with sweat, blood, and even more of that white ick. My ears fell flat as I ran out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, blood covering my hooves and making crude prints in the floor. Again, my heart threatened to jump out of my mouth as mother was on the table, stitched and cut open with her favorite celery knife. Her head was attached, but her body was in a really big casserole dish. An apple was in her mouth and her organs lay in a boiling pot of water on the stove. Like sister, her mouth was stitched shut in a grin around the apple as her blue eyes lay open in eternal horror. Her brown mane lay in much the same way on her grey-white pelt as did sister's. More blood, sweat, and that icky stuff greeted me as I peered into the casserole dish. But there were chunks of meat scattered about in the pan, and I saw a peachy colored hoof stick out of mom's hind quarters. Her body was enlarged to unusual proportions, and then I started sobbing as I realized dad was stuffed inside mom. He too was dead as I saw a broken horn lay in front of the fridge. Somepony help me get out of this nightmare!

Then I saw a goat-horned stallion, his crimson pelt and pitch-black hooves caked in blood and more of that ick. He was also fairly sweaty, judging from his nigh-bare forehead. He had the teeth of a manticore and glowing, gold eyes which pried into my soul. A smile etched on his lips as I saw this really odd-shaped, black mass between his hind legs. Its tip pointed right at me as a brown bag suddenly threw itself on my head and knocked me out--but not before I let off a shrill shriek of pain I swear broke a window or two.