Emmy

by Selbi

Rating: everyone
Tags: Sad, Drama, Original Character, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 7258

Emerald Sky is a young, homeless filly living in a shabby alleyway in Manehatten, her home being made of nothing but cardboard. Her life came to this after a number of tragic events. And yet she keeps smiling even through tough times.

Emerald Sky is a young, homeless filly living in a shabby alleyway in Manehatten, her home being made of nothing but cardboard. Her life came to this after a number of tragic events. And yet she keeps smiling even through tough times.

Based on an original idea by Cider Barrel (taken from this short audio skit by him).

Here is an audio draft of the story's first part. I highly recommend to check it out!

Huge thanks to Kill Joy for the cover art!

Editors:
- ReFro
- Abcron

Published 2013-10-09 19:30:03 UTC
Last updated 2014-02-03 01:57:59 UTC

Emerald Sky

Here is an audio draft of the story's first part. I highly recommend to check it out!

My name is Emerald Sky. Most ponies just call me Emmy, though. Well, at least the few who would call me anything other than worthless orphan or thief that is.

I’ve been living in Manehatten since I was born, but my life wasn’t always like it is today. My mother passed away only a few hours after I came into this world, and my dad left her long before that. I lived in an orphanage for the first seven years of my life. Not having any real parents to take care of me was never really a problem as I’d never met either of them, and my caretakers were always very nice to me.

Until that fateful day… One of the caretakers died in an accident, leaving the orphanage understaffed. There were too many foals to take care of, so a few of us had to find an alternative. Some were moved around to other orphanages in neighboring cities, some even had the good fortune to be adopted and live a normal life!

But I was not as fortunate as some of the others. A life in a house made from cardboard boxes, nestled in a dark alleyway between a few shops—that is the life I’m currently living. The only way for me to stay alive is either by begging or… stealing. Most of the time I went without anything to eat, though. Because of that I’m sick most of the time, and that makes it hard to find work. Besides, who wants to let an eight-year-old unicorn filly do anything in their business?

Well, that is if you can even call me a unicorn. Often times ponies confuse me with an earth pony. That’s hardly a surprise, though. I’m suffering from a disease that slows down the development of my horn so much I was told that I may never be able to use magic. That small stub I have on my forehead doesn’t even allow me to lift a feather, whereas the other unicorn foals back at my old orphanage already mastered levitation.

So here I am, trying to live this life one day at a time, hoping that tomorrow I have a sun to say hello to again.

I move around in my makeshift bed of old newspapers and an old pillow I found in the trash, and turn the radio on. This alleyway doesn’t really have anything other than a few trash containers, but at least there are power outlets in here. Why? I don’t know, but nowadays I’m thankful for anything that helps me make my dark days a little brighter.

That wouldn’t be an easy task today, considering how dark the sky is. There is not a single break in the clouds, and I know it’s going to start raining any minute.

I tune the radio to the only station it can receive: Heartstrings FM, a station that limits itself to soft and cheerful melodies. I think I’m very lucky that at least this one station is receivable.

Slow, happy strings start to come from the old speakers, along with a bit of fuzzy distortion. This is the norm for me, but the distortion grows louder and louder. Then I notice the first drops of rain falling down.

“Stupid pegasi… Why did they have to make a rainstorm today?” I ask myself. But I know it’s pointless. The rain won’t stop because of pathetic, little me. But still, it means another night without music, and probably another morning with a cold.

I move my makeshift bed into the housing I made out of cardboard. Usually I just sleep under the stars, but on rainy nights I at least try to keep the water away from me while I rest.

The one benefit of being a weak, homeless filly is that you have the ability to sleep no matter how much noise there is around you. You are almost always too exhausted to complain about your situation.

I slip out of my completely drenched cardboard home and look to the sky. A weak smile forms on my face as I see the sun up in the sky with a little rainbow in its halo.

“Achoo!” My smile fades away as I realized what this day would mean for me: lots and lots of sneezing. But I can’t just stay at… home like normal ponies, I have to find food and something to drink that isn’t rainwater. I wipe my nose with an old towel I found in the same trash container I had found the radio in. Thankfully, the rain washed it pretty well, although it’s still a bit wet.

I make my way to the market. Most of the ponies there won’t give me anything, if they even recognize me. My voice is very weak because of my constant illnesses, and that makes it hard to talk through the loud noise around there.

As I look down to the ground while walking to the market, I notice a flyer that gains my interest. “Manehatten searches for the next Karaoke Champion!” I read out loud. I don’t consider myself a good singer, namely because of my torn voice from the weather, but I still enjoy it and do it whenever my throat allows me to. Which isn’t often, but that’s okay.

I walk back to my pseudo house and put the flyer away. Then I finally walk to the market.

As expected, the place is so overcrowded it’s a wonder I can even make my way through it. That means most of the vendors don’t even notice me, let alone give me anything, but I still try my luck with all of them.

I approach the apple stand and speak to stallion working there.

“H-hello? H… hello?”

“Beat it, kid. There’s nothing for you here,” he bluntly replies without even taking a closer look at me.

“P-please, sir… I’m… so cold and hungry… C-can you please spare an apple?” Some ponies have a weak heart and can’t resist helping an innocent and helpless filly, so sometimes I try make myself look worse than I really am. However, pretending your life is a gigantic pile of doodoo when in reality it’s still a big pile of doodoo doesn’t make me feel much better.

“Look, kid, some of us have to make a living in this city,” the stallion says, once again without taking any closer look at me. It’s obvious I won’t get any donations here, but I can’t give up.

“P-please?” I say once again, trying extra hard to put emphasis on the fact that I’m tired and sick. Thankfully, a rather heavy cough comes from my throat and I try my best to make it sound as heart melting as possible.

“No money, no grocery.” So much for the melting hearts.

“But… but… it… hurts…” I say weakly. That’s not far from the truth, as this cough really is one of the worse kind.

I expect another remark from the stallion, but this time he ignores me completely and moves his attention to a customer. This is my chance; I grab an apple and run away.

“Hey, kid! Get back here! Thief, thief!” I hear the stallion shouting behind me.

“I’m sorry!” I scream, although I’m not sure if he really heard me. I’m really sorry. Stealing doesn’t feel right, but if it meant not having to have an empty stomach for an entire day, it’s all I could do.

“Stop that filly!” But nopony pays attention to me.

I arrive at my alleyway completely exhausted. As far as I can tell, I was alone and there aren’t any ponies who followed me to this place. I’m alone... Again.

My house recovered pretty well from the rainstorm. The cardboard had almost completely dried, which means I don’t have to go finding new ones later today. I sit down and turn on the radio. Then I bring out the apple I… stole, and take a bite.

For a brief moment I feel like nothing matters anymore, like all my fears and worries are being washed away by the water inside the apple and the soft music coming from the radio. This is usually the highlight of the day, so I want to make the most out of it. I still regret that I had to steal to come to this point, but that doesn’t matter for me right now.

Between a bite I notice a familiar tune coming from the radio. Acoustic guitars strumming a simple melody with a little bit of bass in the background. This song doesn’t have any clear connections to me, but I still like to sing to it, if only because of its simple message and text.

“Mama said it won’t be easy, to take the long way of life,

As a child it was so funny now, but things turn to the bad side.

It is dark in the city jungle, to earn the cash, to stay alive,

But there is one thing I can tell you, listen to your heart and to your mind.

In this world we’re living, seven days a week.

In this world we’re living, seven days a week!”

Tears start to form in my eyes. Whether it’s because I’m sad or happy, I’m not too sure. All I know is that there’s always one thing that helps me cheer up a little: knowing that I’m not the only one.

Author's Note

Written after Cider Barrel hit me up with this short yet amazing audio skit. Who knows? Maybe this longer story will get a radio play as well?

The song at the end is from my brother's old band, from a song called Seven Days A Week.

One thing to note: This story may be marked as Complete, but based on the feedback I may or may not continue it. I know OC stories aren't well appreciated by some people, so I'll just see what the overall opinion is. Comment if you want to see this continued!

Apple Joe

The song ends on a final chord, and the radio station continues with a less interesting song. I reduce the volume a little and finish eating my apple. I munch at the remaining pieces until only an inedible stump remains. I would eat it too, but even in my situation I have standards.

I get up to walk to the trash container and throw the stump away.

“Wow… I had no idea…”

I quickly turn to the voice, and am shocked to see the vendor I stole the apple from staring at me. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t have anything to eat for two days now… Please don’t hurt me, sir!” I say while covering my head under my forelegs and starting to whimper.

“Hurt you? Sweet Celestia, I would never do that to a poor filly like you!”

I take my head out of cover and look up at the unicorn stallion looking at me with a soft yet worried expression. He uses his magic to throw the apple stump into the trash.

“I thought you were some fed-up town’s kid, too cheap of herself to spare one bit of her pocket money. If I knew you were really in such a terrible condition I wouldn’t have hesitated for a second to give you an apple.”

Tears fill my eyes again and I sniff a few times, but for the first time today truly because I’m happy. “T-thank you, sir! It really means a lot to me.” I lower my head a little. “I still feel bad about stealing that apple, though…”

“Hey, shut it. Stubborn old me wouldn’t have given in back there. Business has been pretty slow today, so I wasn’t exactly interested in sharing anything for free.” He motions to my cardboard house. “This… changes things a little, though.”

“Heh, if you say so. Thank you again for changing your mind, sir. Though I’m a little confused about something: I didn’t see anypony following me, so how did you find me?” I ask.

“In this world we’re living, seven days a week,” he sings. My eyes brighten up a little at the realization. “This is one of my all-time favorite songs, and I heard it coming from this place combined with an amazing voice.” He boops my nose with his hoof. “You have an amazing voice!”

I lower my head in slight embarrassment. “You’re just saying that because of my situation. Besides, I can’t sing well with my constant hoarseness.”

“Nonsense, it’s amazing! You should go to a singing contest or something. I’m sure you will have some luck there.”

I am reminded of the flyer I found earlier. “Now that you mention it… There’s a karaoke contest going on in Manehatten in a few days.” I motion the vendor to follow me and show him the flyer. He picks it curiously up with his magic and reads out loud.

“Manehatten searches for the next Karaoke Champion! All fillies and colts between six and nine are welcome!” He stops reading and looks at me, asking, “How old are you?”

“Eight, sir.”

“Right.” He goes back to reading, but interrupts himself. “Oh, and please, don’t call me ‘sir.’ My name is Apple Joe. What’s your name, by the way?”

“Emerald Sky, but you can call me Emmy.”

“Emmy it is. Nice to meet you. Now…” He shifts his focus to the flyer again and continues reading. “Signing up is not required, everypony is welcome! 1st prize is 100 bits! October 14th at Manehatten’s Gym Hall at 8 PM,” he finishes reading out.

“That’s tomorrow already!” I say with excitement, but my mood quickly turns around again. “The Gym Hall is quite a bit away though, and I would have to walk all the way back and forth in the darkness… I don’t think I can make it.”

Joe puts a hoof to his chin and thinks for a while. Then he says, “Well, I don’t have a carriage because my house is just a few minutes away from the market, but I think I have an idea. Say, what is it you do all day?”

“Huh?” I respond confused. “You mean like, what I do all day apart from sitting in this alleyway or begging for something to eat? Not much, really…”

“Then what would you think about giving me a helping hoof at work in exchange for some bits so you can go to the contest by cab?”

I look up at him, unsure if I didn’t just mishear what he said. “W-what? You mean, a job? That would be great!” I say in excitement.

“Yep! As I said earlier, business has been pretty weak recently. I guess it’s because of those Flim-Flom-or-something brothers going around stealing my customers. Do you think you could go around and spread the word about my stand a little?”

“Yes, that shouldn’t be too hard. Thank you, s– I mean, Joe.”

“Oh, that’s alright, Emmy. We can help each other’s hoof that way,” he says while ruffling through my hair in a playful manner. “Can I expect you at eight tomorrow?”

“You can count on it!”

“Haha, alright then. But… do you even have a clock?”

“I’m used to reading the time by looking at the sun’s position in the sky. It’s no problem for me.”

“Wow, that’s a pretty cool talent. Well then, see you tomorrow, Emmy!” With that, he turns around to walk away.

“Bye, Joe!”

“Oh, wait a minute…” Joe says, turning around again. He opens up his saddlebag and lifts a few bits out, then tosses them at my hooves. “Buy yourself a real dinner, please. It pains me to see such an innocent, little filly like this.” He smiles softly.

I gratefully pick up the bits and put them into my box home. “Thank you!”

“No problem. Hopefully you won’t have to starve anymore starting tomorrow. I really need to return to my stand now though. Bye!” he says.

“Bye bye! And thank you, again, Joe!”

And with that, he turns around and leaves my dark alleyway. I look up at the sky, which now feels much brighter than it did minutes ago.

Thank you…

I’m in my box home again, looking out at the starry night sky with a smile on my face.

The most of the previous few hours were spent on finding something to eat that would fill me up, but without spending too many bits on just that. I’m used to not eating much, so it didn’t take a lot to calm my hunger.

Another split of the bits was used to buy myself a new blanket. Or well, if you can call a stack of towels that. It’s still better than a bunch of old newspapers any day.

I used the remaining time to practice my singing for tomorrow’s karaoke contest. I’m still unconvinced about my talent, but Apple Joe sounded pretty serious when he said my voice sounds good. And I must admit, it does sound a little better than before, as I had something great to eat and drink to make my throat feel less sore.

Luck wasn’t with me the entire time though, as the radio station had a marathon of a band I’ve never heard before, so I was unable to sing to most of the songs that were played. Still, there were a few songs I recognized that had allowed me to sing along with them, and it was great to not only do so to pass the time like usual, but because it truly made me feel happy.

“Heartstrings FM! It’s eight-thirty-one, and here’s the weather with Cloud Chaser,” the voice from the radio exclaims. I turn it off at that, not being interested in the boring talk about the weather and the news following it.

I snuggle myself into a comfortable position in my upgraded makeshift bed, then close my eyes while smiling.

“Good night, Emerald Sky.”

Author's Note

Wow, I definitely didn't expect such a great amount of positive feedback. This is easily my most well-received fic yet, so thank you, everyone! I must admit, I felt like a silly little kid when I saw this. :V

So yeah, the story's being continued. I have a loose concept planned, but no clear ending. I'll just go along with whatever hits me while I write. Also, updates should be rather frequent, as I'll try to keep the chapters short.

Just one thing: I hope I didn't rush the change of mood from sad to happy in this chapter. I want to slowly improve Emmy's situation, but without making her seem like a Mary Sue. Tell me if I was too fast; feedback is always appreciated, positive or negative!

Finally, check this first audio draft of this story out if you haven't already, it's awesome!

Brawny Steed

I wake up early, too excited to sleep any longer. Today is the start of my first ever job! Soon I could finally buy myself something to eat without having hope for donations or even steal. And in the evening I could even try my luck in the karaoke contest. My throat still hurts a little, but it’s much better than the days before.

Throwing my towel-blanket off of me, I get out of my cardboard home and look up at the sky to check the time. My excitement slowly gets replaced with unhappiness when I notice the sun’s position. I figured I'd gotten up earlier than usual, but not that early. It’s probably around six o’clock, but I’m supposed to meet Apple Joe at eight. What should I do in the meantime?

As I said, sleeping is not an option. I’m way too excited to shove myself into my box again. Singing? It’s not very likely I’ll hear any familiar songs this early.

Horseapples! What else is there for me to do?!

My eyes stop upon seeing the three bits I put in a small case next to my box. While it definitely isn’t a lot, it’s still foalish to keep it out in the open for anypony to steal! Considering it is all the money I have, at least for now, I should find a way to keep it secure from thieves.

But… how? I definitely can’t open a bank account at my age, and even then I wouldn’t have enough money to finance it. A piggy bank is just as pointless; anypony could steal it and break it open.

An idea strikes me and I smile. Nopony can steal… what they can’t see! The red-bricked wall of my alleyway is anything but robust. If only I could find something to remove the plaster around a couple of bricks so I can take them out and hide something in the hollow wall behind them…

I check the trash containers. Yes, luck is with me today! An old, rusty hammer lays in there, but it seems to be stable enough to last a few more strong hits. Well, strong hits from an eight-year-old filly anyway.

Picking it up in my mouth, I inspect the wall behind my box for a weak spot along the bottom where the bricks and the ground meet. I think I’ve found one.

I reach back with the hammer in my mouth, and take a swing.

The sound of rusty metal connecting to burnt clay can be heard. I open my eyes and expectantly look at the point where I hit it. I frown at the completely unaffected red cuboid before me, and spit the hammer out.

“This is going to take longer than I expected.”

Indeed it took longer than I expected. Way longer. By now it must be somewhere around nine. I’m almost an hour late!

I arrive at Joe’s stand exhausted, and see him already serving a few customers.

“H-hello… Joe,” I say between heavy panting. “Sorry… for… being… so late.”

“Hello there, Emmy. Good to see you came at last. I was worried you forgot about me.” He ruffles my hair, much like he did yesterday. “And really, what difference is there in one hour? During early hours only a few ponies are around at the market, and those who do probably already have their regulars.”

“Heh, alright,” I reply, finally getting a more steady breathing pattern again. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“I had hoped you would ask that.”

He takes two of his many apples and cuts them into slices. Then, he takes out a plate and places them on it.

“It’s really simple. All you need to do is take this plate around and offer a few curious ponies a slice. Then you tell them that ‘Apple Joe’s Apple Paradise’ is where you got them from, and in which direction my stand is.” He levitates the plate on my back and secures it with a strap. “Was that easy to follow?”

“Alright.” He nudges my flank to send me on my way. “Good luck, Emmy! See you later.”

“Wait, I got one more question: what should I do when all slices are taken?”

“Oh, then you come back to get another batch. I’ve never had anyone do this before, so I don’t know how many ponies will try a sample. We’ll see about that.

“Okay, understood. Until later, Joe!” With that, I turn towards the market and begin my first work day.

It didn’t take long before the first batch of apple slices was completely taken. In fact, it didn’t even feel like like half an hour. At first I thought I was to keep this one bunch with me the entire day. Ponies can be really nice… when you don’t beg them for donations, and instead you are the one to offer something that is.

I’ve gotten used to the procedure after only a few ponies. All I have to do is ask curious looking ponies if they are interested in an apple slice. Sure enough, most ponies seem to be; almost like they also had no breakfast, hehe.

As I walk to Joe’s stand, I can see a rather long queue standing in front of it. Joe is working overtime, and it’s not even ten in the morning.

“Oh, hey there, Emmy. Please, come here,” he calls out to me, still in the middle of serving a customer. “The next batch is already ready for pick-up. You’re doing an amazing job!”

“Thank you!” I say while placing the new apple slices on my plate. “See you in a few minutes!”

Only a few minutes it indeed. And the three other plates before that. I feel so happy; finally I’ve found something to legitimately make a living off! Well, maybe not make a living off, but at least enough so I don’t have to beg all the time.

“‘Apple Joe’s Apple Paradise,’ right over there, sir,” I say to the pony who’s currently enjoying the slice I’ve given him. “Though you might need to wait a while. I think there currently are a lot of ponies waiting.”

“Ah, that doesn’t matter,” he replies. “These apples are delicious! Much better than those machine-processed abominations by those Flim-Flam brothers.Time is not an issue, I only hope there still are a few apples left by the time I get there, haha.” He tosses a small bit at my hooves—something a lot of ponies have been doing today.

I put the bit into my, admittedly, rather heavy getting bit pocket. “Thank you, sir. Best of luck to get some apples before they are sold out,” I say. Then I walk off, in search of more ponies to advertise to.

Over there seems to be another pony who looks like he’s interested in apples. I walk towards him, innerly finding my composure to—

“Well, if it isn’t Emerald Cry!” I hear a voice calling me from behind. It’s a mocking tone, and I recognize the voice.

“What do you want, Brawny Steed?” I angrily say to him. He is a colt from the old orphanage, and he is also part of the ones that were dropped when they cut down the staff.

“Oh, you know, just walking around the market, seeing if I can get any free stuff. Vendors are so easy to trick these days.”

“Why are you stealing? I thought you were adopted by a wealthy family!” I glare at him. “You have more than enough food to survive.”

“Oh, I know, but it’s so much more fun to eat something that doesn’t belong to you. Also, my family is so boring. They work all day and only eat with me late in the evening. I bet even your family does a better job at that.”

I look down at that remark, unable to say anything. “Uhm…”

“Oh, you don’t have a family? Bwahaha! Where do you live? Under a bridge with some dirty dossers and stand around a burning barrel? Or alone in some corner of the city?” He starts laughing manically.

My eyes begin to turn wet. “W-why are you so mean to me?” I try to look at him, but fail. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Nothing. It’s just fun watching you go baaawww. What are you doing anyway? Selling apple slices? Let me try one of those.”

He walks to the plate on my back, and takes one slice. The next thing I feel is a hoof connecting with my barrel, and I fall to the ground. In the corner I can see the fresh batch of slices falling to the dirty ground.

“Oh, woops. Hahahaha,” he laughs at me, chewing down the slice. I can no longer hold back my tears and begin to cry, while running away. I can hear him shouting another mean remark at me, but I’m too distraught to understand him.

I run towards Joe’s stand, and see him serving a single customer.

“Wow, Emmy, you’re getting faster and faster each time. This was probably a new rec—” Joe starts happily, but then he notices me sobbing. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“There was a bully… And… and… he kicked me! And all the pieces fell to the ground! I’m so sorry!” Moving to the ground, I bury my head in my hooves, and start crying.

“There you go, sir,” I hear him saying to the customer. Then he turns me. “Hey, Emmy, don’t be sad. There are always dumb ponies out there who have nothing better to do than make other ponies’ lives miserable. Usually it’s because they want to put themselves in a position of power over other ponies, because their own life is often not so great as well.”

“But he doesn’t live in an alleyway, he has a family who adopted him!”

“So what? Does this make him a better pony than you? And just so you know, I’m not mad at you for letting the slices drop. You already did an amazing job, and I don’t think that bunch would’ve made much of a difference. I’m almost completely out of apples. We can close up shop early today!”

“Y-yes? You’re not mad?” I ask him.

“Not at all. Come here.” He opens his forelegs, and hugs me. “Everything is fine. You hear me?”

“O-okay.” We break the hug, and I look in Joe’s eyes. “Thank you, Joe.”

“No worries. One more question though: is the bully orange with a light-green mane?”

“Yes, that’s him! How did you know?” I asked him surprised, my sadness slowly going back.

“I’ve had issues with that kiddo before. He also tried to steal apples. The only difference between you and him was that he seemed to enjoy it.” He boops my nose with his hoof, much like he did yesterday. “This is also what makes you two different: he doesn’t feel regret for his actions. But let’s forget about him. You want your earnings?”

I nod at him. “Yeah, that would be great. I got quite a few bits as tip already, but in my situation every bit is appreciated, hehe.” I smile at my ability to joke around again.

“Haha, of course.” He opens his cash register and lifts out a great amount of bits. “There you go. That should be enough for the cab.”

“So much?!” I ask him surprised.

“Yes, of course! My business has been at least three times as active as it usually is, thanks to you. You deserve a good reward for doing your job.”

“Thank you, Joe! Thank you, thank you!”

“Ah shucks, it’s nothing. Here…” He lifts an apple and puts it into my mouth. “Shut it before I start feeling more awesome than I really am, haha.”

I take a bite. “Thank you, Joe,” I say while winking.

“Hahahaha, thank you, Emmy. Best of luck for your karaoke contest later today. I’m sure you will win! You should go now, so you still have some time to practice.”

“Than– I mean, if you say so. Good bye, Joe!”

“Bye bye, Emmy! Hopefully we’ll meet again some day.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

With that, I set off on my way to my home, chewing on my apple and feeling the heavy weight of clinking metal in my pouch.

Author's Note

The very last thing I did for this chapter was giving it a name, and also giving the bully kid a name. How did I come up with it? I clicked my way through a pony name generator until I found something I remotely like. Truth to be told, I absolutely despise this name, so if you can come up with something better feel free to tell me in the comments!

Midnight Gem

The last few hours have been spent singing. It didn’t matter what kind of music was on the radio; all I needed was something to sing along to. And now, the time to get a cab to the Gym Hall is almost here.

I’m nervous. Very nervous. And I haven’t even left my alleyway yet. Instead, I’m just staring at the pouch of bits in front of me. Not all of them are in there; I’ve put the greatest share of them into the carved-out, secret spot behind the brick wall. It only contains barely enough to afford the cabs, and maybe something to snack on, should they have a stand there.

Just to imagine that I this is something I wouldn’t have even dreamed about: buying a snack. Sure, I may still live in a box, but my situation has gone from from “downright pathetic” to an average form of “saddening.”

I snap out of my thoughts. What am I doing here? I should get going.

And that’s what I do. I put on my pouch, then leave my home. Something feels different this time. I can’t put to words what exactly I mean, but I feel like I’m leaving something behind this time. Something I’ve been taking with me everytime I left this place.

Was it sorrow? Was it unsureness? Was it fear? I don’t know. But regardless of what it was, it feels good to let go of something that has plagued me for years.

I walk towards the cab rank, which is just a few minutes away. It still feels so weird to go there, but I must remain calm. Losing my composure just because something is new for me would only hinder my singing.

“Hello, sir,” I say to one of the cab stallions waiting for customers as I arrive. Thinking about singing did help—I feel much less insecure.

“Hello there, young lady. What can I do for you?” he asks me.

“I’d like to go to the Gym Hall,” I explain calmly, almost completely zoned-out and barely recognizing what he says.

“Sure thing. Hop in! We can go immediately.”

I climb into the carriage, and wait for the cab to start moving. That happens mere seconds later, after the stallion finishes writing something down. My guess is that it’s just to take records of all his customers.

“Alright, here we go,” he says, and then the yellow vehicle starts shaking. The stallion is definitely someone who has been doing this for his whole life. His gallop is fast, almost flawless. He can run on cobblestone like it’s a part of him. He was built for it. He was trained for it. It is a part of him.

I think about that for a while. Is a pony’s destiny is really dictated by its cutie mark? This stallion has a yellow wheel with black and white stripes on it; clearly his destiny is being a cab driver. But what was he like before he discovered it? Was he always fond of bringing other ponies to different locations. Or was it an a simple turn of events, and he discovered his special talent in mere moments?

I think about that for a little longer.

“We’re here, young lady. That’d be seven bits.” I snap out of my thoughts. Looks like I’d gotten carried away by my thoughts of cutie marks and destinies, and had fallen asleep.

“How long have we been driving?” I ask out of curiosity.

“A little over half an hour,” he explains. “I must admit, you’re quite lucky. The traffic is usually much tougher at this time of day in Manehatten.”

“Ah, okay. Thank you, sir!” I give him the requested bits plus one. I’m not living in poverty, but a small tip is the least I could do.

We nod our heads, say our farewells, and leave our separate ways. I walk to the Gym Hall.

I’m overwhelmed by the sight before me. The queue in front of the hall is so long it extends outside of the entrance. Why would so many ponies be interested in seeing young foals sing? I expected a few dozen, not what seems like at least one hundred.

I sigh, no longer feeling the calmness I felt earlier. What would the ponies think about me? I’m just a homeless filly that wants to try her luck at a karaoke contest, not a superstar.

The line of attendants is obviously much shorter, but still way longer than I expected. I stand in line and nervously wait for it to move on.

I stop in front of a small box office once it’s my turn. “Name and age?” the pony asks in a rather rough tone.

’m eight years old.”

The pony scribbles something down on a piece of paper, and gives me a card on a lanyard. “28” is says on it. I guess that’s my participant number. I put it around my neck, and move on.

I enter something that looks like a lounge for all the contestants. Young ponies, some smaller and some larger than me, all stood around, chatting happily with each other. I can hear the different types of voices. Some have a sweet, raspy voice, not much unlike mine. Others, colts of course, have much deeper, bassy voices.

I start feeling more nervous. Amongst this huge variety of voices, how am I going to stand out with mine, which is still a little chipped from my recent cold? And more importantly, what about the confidence? All the foals here look so sure about their goal. They’re sure they will win—at least that’s what I’m currently reading from their eyes.

Wait a minute, who’s that? There seems to be a young filly over there, and she doesn’t seem so proud of herself, much unlike the others. She isn’t talking to anypony either, she’s just standing there. Should I try doing that?

Yes. I walk over to her, and she turns her head towards me. “Hi,” I say, “I’m Emerald Sky. Who’re you.”

She turns her head away from me again, although I can’t exactly tell what expression she has on her face. “Midnight Gem,” she says, almost whispering.

My nervousness has been replaced by awkwardness. What should I do now? She definitely doesn’t seem like the kind of pony who wants to socialize much. I’m not usually that kind of pony either, but right now I feel like a little chat could help me unwind. “So, uh… what brings you here? Also singing?”

I almost want to slap myself for that silly question. Of course she came here to sing; why else would she have an participant’s lanyard around her neck?

But then something happens that I haven’t expected at all. Instead of glaring at me for annoying her, she walks to a nearby window and puts her forehooves on the windowsill. “I… need the money,” I hear her saying with a slight hint of sadness.

Finally I understand what’s going on here. I haven’t taken a closer look at her yet, but now I can see it very clearly. She’s dirty, her mane is unkempt, and she lacks a cutie mark.

Just like me.

“You aren’t the only one,” I say, and join her staring out of the window. “I’m… homeless. I need money to stay alive, or I have to steal or beg.”

“What?!” she suddenly says surprised, and turns towards me. “You are homeless? Why aren’t you living in the orphanage?”

“I was kicked out when they cut down the staff. I couldn’t afford going anywhere else, so I had to stay here.” Normally, whenever I tell somepony my story, I begin to feel sad and melancholic. Somehow, though, I feel perfectly fine explaining it now.

“I… I…” Midnight Gem starts saying.

“Hmm?”

“I thought I was the only one here…” She motions to the ponies behind us. “These ponies here are all living in poverty and rich families. They didn’t come here to win money, they just want to compete. I thought I was the only one who actually came here because of the money.”

“Don’t worry, you aren’t,” I reassure her. “I’d feel better having less… financial interests for this competition, but sometimes you have to take any chance you can get, right?”

She nods. “I live with my mother in the basement of an abandoned house. It’s pretty big for just the two of us, but it’s very, very cold in there. We can’t afford something fancy like an oven, so we have to use candles and similar things to keep our hooves warm.” She waits for a while, obviously expecting me to say something. When she realizes I don’t have any comments, she asks, “What do you need the money for?”

“Food, mostly,” I tell her. “I live in an alleyway and keep myself warm with blankets and cardboard boxes.”

“You live alone?” she asks.

“Yes, I’m an orphan. Didn’t I say that earlier?”

“No, you just said you’re homeless, but not both!”

I just shrug at that. “Looks like destiny was extra cruel to me.” I giggle. That has always helped: laughing at my own misfortune. It eases the pain.

A voice from behind us interrupts us. “Alright, everypony,” an older mare says. She’s probably one of the organizers. “The contest starts in five minutes. I want you all to stand in line and sort yourself, in ascending order, with your numbers.”

“I’m number fourteen,” Midnight Gem says. “Which one are you?”

“Twenty-eight, twice as much as you,” I say playfully.

“Alright. Well, thanks for the talk, uhm… What was your name again?”

“Emerald Sky. You can call me Emmy.”

“Oh, okay. Well, good luck, Emmy!”

“You too, Midnight!”

Author's Note

Slight change of plans: I'll split the for-the-time-being finale into two parts (as announced here). Whoopdedoo!

Terrible Ending [Non-Canon]

Just as I see Midnight Gem walking away, finding her position in the line for the singing contest, a giant meteor crashes into the building. A great deal of the ponies are dying instantly, fire is everywhere, and screams of agony can be heard in a cacophony of noises.

I stand there, letting the knowledge of my immediate death embrace me like the warmth of the blanket of my old orphanage. “I am coming to you, mommy.”

And thus ends the tale of my life, the life of Emerald Sky. A weak orphan living in an alleyway, never doing anything wrong in her life apart from stealing so she could survive.

Then a giant, burning wooden beam hits me and I fall asleep forever.

Author's Note

What I just did here, doing something incredibly random to kill everyone and find a poor excuse to finish a story, probably has a Trope name. Someone comment if you know what it is.

Anyway, after months upon months of this story taunting me with its incompleteness I've decided to end it all in the cheapest, laziest, and most effort-less way possible. Of course this end here isn't canon, it's just a cheap excuse to finally move on. However, that also means I will not ever continue this story for real. You can stick to whatever your headcanon is and what happens after the singing contest. Heck, you can even write a sequel if you want to. Anything goes.

Sorry to everyone who had some sorts of hopes for this story, but I know I would never actually continue it.

This was written on a phone at 3 AM.

EDIT: This single "chapter" increased the dislike count from 2 to 12 within a week.