When the Circus Came to Town

It was usually a week between her visits. Each time my mother threw in another bale. I ate it, but always considered not eating it thinking that if I didn't I wouldn't have to live here anymore, but the thing that kept me going was the thought that Lily would be back to take me away from this place. After about 3 weeks in that room, alone with nothing to talk to except the bed and the desk, my wounds healed to minor bumps and bruises. I had my previous strength back, miniscule as it may have been, I had it. I decided that I would try to break out again, to run away and never return. I looked toward the window and to my horror there were bars of solid wood where it once was. My heart sank like a rock. But the thought that if I made it out I had a chance of never returning to this place made me determined to find a way out. Thinking that I could do something to get the bars off, I stacked some of the leftover hay that I accumulated by the window. It made for a perfect boost to my height, and I was now eye-level with the bars and in the perfect position to try my idea. I pushed at the bars, hoping that the nails would come out of the wood and I would be free. The plan was a failure, the bars didn't budge. I don't know what made me think I could push nails out of wood with my minor amount of strength, but a zebra could hope, couldn't he?, especially if it's all he has left?

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In the time after the failed attempt, I spent most of my time in my small room practicing what I saw Lily do when I saw her perform. I tried the cartwheel, but I didn't have enough room in my bedroom, or rather my jail cell. I tried some of the contortion that she did, I discovered that I was pretty good at that. So I kept bending myself into strange shapes that would make most ponies think I was posessed, but lucky for me, I was alone. I tried flips, which ended up with me landing on my head the first few times, but I quickly got the hang of that as well. I kept doing this all the way up to September, which was when school started. I was let out of my room, I was no longer confined to it's cold walls. There was no talking during my release except "School, get there". I went to school like every other pony did, I never did fit in anywhere at that school, so nopony ever cared to pay attention to me. I guess that was a good thing. At least I wasn't bullied or picked on, just ignored. The school day went on like any other, no talking to anypony, listening to the teachers go on rants about how 10^0 is 1 and not 0, and eating lunch. Where other ponies had their lunches in bags, mine was growing wherever I felt like eating. Sure I occasionally got a wierd look from the occasional passerby but hey, food's food. After school, I practiced freedom. I ran through fields, slept on the grass (when it wasn't too cold out), took baths in streams, my old agenda from before I was locked away for so long.

Then came the winter months. The snow came down heavily this year, so I had no choice but to depend on my "parents" to provide for me. I hated the idea that my food source was them, and that I needed them to survive. I came into the house for 2 meals a day, I didn't need the third. If it meant less time near them, then I didn't want it. And I came in during the night to stay slightly warmer than I would be if I slept outside. I trained myself to wake up early so that I could have breakfast and get out of that place before the others woke up. My schedule was like this for almost a year; warm days, stay outside and away from them; cold days, stay outside until bed and stay away from them.