“You ok sweetie?” my mother said after that gentle knock on the door to my room. The unicorn mare entered, her hoofsteps quite soft on the hard wood floor, and cradled me in that delicate magic aura before placed me into my bed and rolled the covers over me. After her delicate kiss on my forehead, in her usual, gentle tone, my mother, with a kind smile, said , “It’s going to be quite cold, so please bundle up. Good night my dear. Let Princess Luna take away your woes.”
I didn’t stay in that soft bed for long. After my mother closed the door behind her and left me to my thoughts, I got out of bed and rolled the covers back to where they had been. I had to stretch like usual to make sure I could reach those soft sheets. That magical ability my mother used to put me into my bed was a talent she trained with on a constant basis; a talent she was “born” with.
“With all of our hearts, with all of them combined, we love you. No matter what, remember that will never change.” Is what I heard. That is what my “loving” family told to me with a hearty smile. Each of those words haunts my mind, night after night when I go into my one place of peace in this house, the corner in my room.
As I stand in this corner, those expressions they gave me, their words -- nothing. It’s nothing but false bravado, the so-called words of a family which said it “loves” me. A gifted unicorn mother that teaches at Equestria’s renowned school in Canterlot, Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, and a pegasus father who oversees tactics and coordination of the proud wonderbolts. I even have a kind earth pony big sister; even she has her talents, traveling all over Equestria as she stars in fashion shows with debut performances of unique clothing lines. That day in the hospital was the biggest shock my family would ever receive.
My mother, my father, my big sister, they said they would love me no matter what. It’s even worse since I’m so -- every equine in Ponyville I look at is different, yet they are all proud of who they are. Why shouldn’t they be proud?
Earth ponies have their strong, stalwart nature. I can’t help but admire their determination. They hold their heads high, each of them all too willing to gaze at the bright future that is in front of them. The strength in their bodies and hearts enables them reach their goals. Pegasus ponies, they are equines graced with the sky above and earth below as their playground. Unicorns, those ponies have the whole world given to them with their ability to utilize magic. To be a unicorn, it would be great if I had been born a wielder of magic. I could tap into those ethereal streams of energy with spells at the tip of my horn; levitation, illumination, conjuration, emanation, and whatever else I could think of. Life as a pegasus, to dive off those clouds and push them around and manipulate weather to a heart’s content. I could soar through Equestria’s open sky while the wind whistles in my ears. Maybe it would be possible to attempt the famous sonic rainboom that one pegasus mare managed to replicate here in Ponyville. As strong as an earth pony, “talking” with animals and understanding them. It would be interesting to communicate with the creatures of the wild. With earth pony strength, I could even help with winter under the guidance of that mare from Sweet Apple Acres. Perhaps that strength would enable me to forge a powerful destiny.
“Earth, Pegasi, Unicorn, NONE OF IT!” I said to myself in quiet, quick murmured quip. My mother didn’t come to check on me after I heard her graceful hoofsteps pass my door, alongside my sister’s graceful steps.
Zecora, she required no horn to produce those incantations and beautiful illusions that graced Equestria’s beautiful landscape on Nightmare Night. She was astounding the more I thought about it. Even Zebras have their special talents. Why? Why was I born to be this THING, this abomination!? I’ve read all those tomes from the library, yet it still confounds me. How? How could two ponies give birth to me? Both my parents say that am truly “their” offspring, just like my big sister. The light faded from this world, those colors dissipating when I came to realize what I was to Equestria. Despite that realization, the ponies at school were kind to me.
Kindness, I can’t feel anything towards what I see with the image that greets me in the mirror when I look into it. What should it afford a creature like me? I’ve done nothing to garner any of this. My big sister seems to “pay it no mind” as one mare put it. When my sister walks next to me or we’re in Ponyville square when she’s on vacation, the pony has no problem to point at me. The earth pony mare is always happy to say that I’m her brother. My mother and father, both of them are all too cheery to smile at me when I come home. All of them say they care for me. Why?
I can feel those seconds tick by while my eyelids grow heavier. With each second that passes, Equestria tells me to sleep. I’ll never forget what that pegasus filly told the class when she returned from summer vacation. Scootaloo, she told about that dream world and how Princess Luna came to her. For an instant, for just that one instance I allowed myself a thought: hope. There might be a chance at happiness. I could find adventure in a place I belonged. Foolishness, I was just plain stupid to believe. All of those equines in Equestria are all too quick to proclaim their fondness for the princesses. I’ve yet to see any of them. That “princess of the night” and “guardian of dreams” has never come to me in the blackness I wake up from each morning, nor have I seen the “guardian of Equestria” or the “Princess of Love.”
My eyes fixated on the box near the door to my room; the namesake I carry wherever I go. I have to stand on my “soapbox” to make myself known. Though the ponies at school are cautious around me yet kind, I can’t play with the others. Those fillies and colts are always happy. They look at each other and offer to play games in the schoolyard. They are ignorant of their differences because they are all “equal” in this world.
With my tired eyes getting the better of me, I find it doubtful that my mother knows I sleep in the corner at night. I manage to get back into bed each morning before she comes into my room. My corner was the only place I had, my one place of peace. Tonight is no different for me. With my mind succumbing to the darkness once more, all I ask is why. Why is this world so cruel? Why wasn’t I born an earth pony, a pegasus or unicorn? Why wasn’t I at least born a Zebra? Why does my family love me so much when I was born different? I’ll never know how they could come to love me, a donkey.
Author's Note
Wanted to go from a child's perspective with this story and show a child that still has a ways to go/learn. The family loves him regardless of what he was born as, but the child can't wrap his mind around it. Went with the name Soapbox for a bit of a symbolic reference, which is implied within the story. This story is a bit of a practice one to help me understand the difference between a character with problems vs a character who's just being a pain and might be considered a "woobie" as TVtropes lists it. Any and all feedback is welcomed.
