Art of Tragedy

by AverageBrony

Rating: everyone
Tags: Tragedy, Sad
Length: 3322

Artistico (or Art) has been an orphan since birth. He's gone from living in an orphanage to the streets of Ponyville. Now, living day to day on rotten food and dirty water, all Art wants more than a sketchbook is a home.

Artistico has been an orphan since birth. He lived in a foster home until he was kicked out for being accused of cutting off the heat from the building. Now living on the streets of Ponyville, Art lives day to day on rotten food and dirty water. Art has taken what he's been through and creates works of his own, ranging from happy to sad, funny to stale, and everything in between. The only thing missing from his masterpiece collection is a portrait.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-02 17:46:31 UTC

The Streets

The streets of Ponyville lay cold and damp. The flight of the wind sends chills ripping through my body every night. My only protection from the cruelty of the elements is an alleyway, an old newspaper, and an empty trash can.

I used to have a family in Baltimare until I was five years old. My mother, Brush Stroke and my father, Sketch, treated me like a prince. I was the world to them. They were always there for me through the thick and thin. They gave me love, shelter, warmth, and more importantly, food. Everything a filly or colt could ask for from parents. Now with them gone and nopony else to turn to, I've been stuck roaming across Equestria looking for a home, being everywhere from Manehatten to Las Pegasus, Appleloosa to Fillydelphia. I just can't seem to find a good home that will hold on to me. Whenever I beg for food, money, shelter, I get scolded and ignored for it. Those ponies don't know what it's like to be living day-to-day on small amounts of food and any drinkable liquid I can find. Everyday is a fight for life.

I feel that this battle may end in defeat.

As I said, I used to live with my parents until the age of five, until they split. I didn't see it coming. They were the perfect parents. It shocked me when they split. I don't remember what the reason was for their split, but all I can remember was that my father found out my mother was seeing another stallion and everything went downhill from there. They fought all day and everyday, for a couple weeks. I remember I came home from school one day with my mother to find my father hanging from our ceiling fan. The look and screams of my mother was something that I never want to hear or see again. I just remember her and I holding each other and crying non-stop for hours. Every time I recall this story, I want to cry until I can cry no more. The images of my father's lifeless, grey body are still plastered to the inside of my eyelids. Every time I sleep, I dream that terrible afternoon, like it doesn't want to leave.

As for my mother, that's an area I hardly ever tread if asked. If-and when-I'm asked, all I can do is tell whoever the story whilst crying uncontrollably. It wasn't like my father's untimely departure, as I now wish it was. It was a few weeks after my father's death, when school was just letting out. My mother hadn't been there to walk home with me, so I just started on my own. The day was rather chilly and dry from what I recall. The weather did turn my nose red and encouraged me to run faster to home.

Arriving home bought me to the sight of a note that was hung on the door with a nail. It was a bit out of my reach, luckily  a whisper of wind ripped the paper off its iron captor. It was a short, little note that was from my mother. It was one of the saddest things I have ever read. I kept the note to this day, holding it close to me at night to try and give me some kind of hope that I'll find a home. The note read,

Art,

I want you to know that I love you very much and would never harm you. Unfortunately, I can't promise that today. Please, whatever you do, do NOT go inside. I don't want you to see my sadness on the floor. Tell the nearest mare or stallion and show them this note. I love you, my baby

-Brush Stroke

Everything was a blur. All I can remember is running and crying to the school, telling my teacher about what I read, showing her the note I had found. The expression her face wore was that of my mother's. Shocked. Saddened. Everything that I never wanted to see. We went to the authorities and they conducted their investigation. That was the last I ever heard of the situation. I was stuck living with my teacher, until she couldn't allow me to as she had a few young ones of her own and couldn't afford to raise another.

That's when I was sent off to an orphanage. The orphanage slept in the heart of the Baltimare. The living condition of the orphanage wasn't too bad, but it wan't the greatest. I lived with four fillies, three other colts, and our caregiver. Her name has left my mind, along with the young ones' and I truly don't want to remember them. All I know is that she was nice at first, I'm guessing as a way to show me that being orphan wasn't so bad, then she turned into a demon. She worked all of us to the bone, making us scrub the floors until they shined like the sun itself and allowed our caregiver to see her own reflection. We also had to wash our clothes, if we had any, make our bed, which wasn't so bad. Making our beds led to us having to wash those sheets and place them back exactly to the caregiver liked them. If we messed up one of those tasks even the slightest, we had to start over. I didn't know how those other ponies managed to put up with this for so long and not complain once. This became the usual until I was wrongly accused of shutting off the heat during the night. I knew who did it and tried to tell her but the ponies all said I had shut off the heat.

That's when I was kicked out.

I was kicked out and was forced to either find another orphanage or try and find another home. Both of these failed miserably. I was turned away from every home and the next orphanage was in Manehatten. That's when I hopped on the train, said goodbye to Baltimare, everyone I knew, and a building I once called home. Ever since, I've been living on the rails, riding from to city to city, town to town, even going as far North as the Frozen North outskirts. I have only just arrived in Ponyville, hoping to find a home and a warm place to stay, from what I've heard from others. I hope that they're right, as this is the last place I'll stay. Life or death, I will live here.

Hoping to find a family.

The Art of Survival

I wake the next morning to the warmth of what I assume is the late morning sun. I crawl out of my makeshift home, letting the warmth dash across my coat. It gives me a chill which lets me know that I still live, fighting my way through my life. I turn around to find the street filled with ponies of all ages. They walked in twos, threes, even fours, which envies me to the core. How I wish I had a family to love. A family where I can be bundled up in love and care. Where I can go to for an escape from the world's wrongs.

But that has been stolen from me.

I turn away to inspect my "belongings". Everything seems to be in it's place, no damage dealt during the night. The trash can held up quite well, only letting in a few leaves that managed to find rest in the trash can from last night's rain. I noticed my mother's note is stuck to the side. I grab the note and read it once more. My eyes tear up as I reread the short letter. How I wish I still had my mother to live with. I hold the note close to my heart, allowing my heart's drum-like beat to be felt by the note. I know my heartbeat may not do much, but I know that my mother can feel it. I give the note a kiss before placing it back in the can, under the secure hold of a small rock I managed to find. I take one last look at the note before emerging out from the alleyway and into the daylight. I shield my eyes from the bright, burning sun, giving my eyes time to adjust to the new light of day. I take a quick look around. Just as before, ponies of all ages of walking together, looking happier than ever. Even ones who walk alone look as if they don't have a care in the world. I start my trek to the center of town, hoping for food, water, money, anything.

The walk gives me time to check over my appearance. It remains the same. My mane is matted and messy as usual, my coat is dirty and damp. My tail is the same as my mane. Matted and messy. I haven't bathed in what seems like forever. My only bath or shower I receive is from the weather itself, a lake, or water that gets dumped on my head. I feel that this is why I can't be taken in as a family member. My appearance is terrible at it's best and downright atrocious most of the time. I try my hardest to fix my mane and tail to make myself appear halfway decent for the day ahead of me.

I arrive at the center of town to find multiple stands lining the perimeter. Stands that sold everything from fruits to fabrics, quills and paper, just about anything that these Ponyville citizens would buy. I cautiously look around for a place to beg for food, money, water, whatever I can get. I find an open spot near the main building in the square, right beside one of the benches. I begin to walk over, avoiding eye contact as much as possible and trying not to run into anyone along the way. I don't need to look to know that I'm getting dirty looks from just everyone who catches a glimpse of me. I can feel the negative energy radiating from their eyes, even when they pass, I can still feel the negative glares.

I arrive at my destination next to the wooden bench to find two mares sitting next to one another, chatting about what I assume to be their work life. As I'm about to sit down, I glance up at them, hoping to get something from them. The two mares look back at me, blank expressions plastered on their faces. A few seconds of silence pass until one of them decides to speak to me.

"What do you want?" one scolds. Typical. I've gotten that response so many times, it seems like I can guess what they'll say even before they open their mouths. Even though I've scolded like this before on numerous occasion, it still hits me in the heart like a hammer. I grow a face of sadness, knowing those mares don't care for me, and take me seat at the end of the bench, on the ground. The ground itself is cool, even though it has probably been cooked in the sun for several hours. The grass below me brushes softly against my hind legs, along with my tail. I curl into a ball and begin to put on my eyes that signify desperation. As I preform this act, a few ponies pass by only giving me glances, nothing more. I fought the urge to chase after them and beg for a home, some food, money, water, anything I could squeeze out of them. The next pony that stops is a stallion. He has a brown coat and a brown mane of a darker shade. His light blue eyes gaze into my soul. His eyes reflect my image back at me, showing a sad, desperate colt seeking help.

"You okay, little one?' He asks me. His voice is soft and as gentle as a cloud.

"No, sir." I reply. I instantly sense his feelings for my situation. His eyes drop as if they were being pulled down. He reaches into his saddlebag and pulls out a pouch. The stallion opens the pouch and pulls five bits. They shine their golden flare into my eyes. The bits look fresh out the bank. He puts his hoof out to me, containing the bits. My eyes grow wide as his hoof stops a foot from my face.

"Here you go, kid." he says sympathetically. "Go and buy yourself some food." I wrap myself around his foreleg, fighting back the urge to kiss his repeatedly. I am overcome with joy, as nopony has ever given me this amount before. I unlatch myself from his leg and collect the bits. He gives me a smile of reassurance and walks off towards the other stands that lay adjacent to me. I gaze at the currency that I hold. Five. Bits. Five bits. I can't believe it. With this amount, I could buy a few apple, or maybe a meal, perhaps a sweet or two if I wanted. But, my task is still young and I must stay on task. I return to my original position. Even though I have acquired some bits, I am still down about what I do.

~~~~~

My day ends with a total collection of thirteen bits, a hoof made bag, and a boatload of rude remarks and glares. I take a look at my bit collection one last time for the day and walk over to the stands as they close up in a few minutes. I walk over to an apple stand, being occupied by an orange coat mare that dons a cowboy hat. I cautiously approach her, as I do with all stands. She notices me even though I try to keep low to the ground.

"Well, howdy there youngin'! How can I help ya?" she politely asks.

"Um, I-I would like to buy three apples." I reply.

"Alrighty. That'll be six bits. Ya got any?" I pull six bits out of my money pouch and place them on the tabletop and the mare counts up the bits before placing three apples where the coins once rested. My eyes grew wide as the apples desperately tried to reflect what light they could in the evening. I snatch up the apples and place them in a bag I found during the day. The apples softly land at the bottom, thumping into one another as they stop. I look back at the mare, who is placing the bits in her chest of numerous other bits. How I wish I could take those bits. I could buy myself enough food and water to last months, maybe a few coats or something of that nature. I snapped back to reality and thanked the mare for the apples and walked off. I looked around at the other stands to see if there were any other goods I could buy while keeping some bits for later. I saw a stand that had been selling coats of sorts. They ranged from a regular work to coats that were frilly in design. I nervously walked over, praying that the coats would be within my six bit budget.

I approached the stand and looked over the coats. The coats were made from what I guessed was wool, cotton, leather, and some expansive fabric. I put a hoof on the cotton coat, letting it tickle me. This would be perfect, even if it was in purple. I looked up at the mare who was selling the coats. Her eyes sparkle at me, injecting a warm feeling inside of me.

"Why, hello there! You want to buy a coat?" she offers. I nod as a reply. "Which one would you like?" I point at the purple cotton coat I had seen. She pulled it off the rack and gently placed it on the counter top, as I searched for a indication of price. I didn't have to look long before the mare broke the silence with the price.

"Okay. The coat is ten bits." she replies. My heart sunk. Ten bits and I only had seven. I look down in defeat, as well as trying to hide my tears, and place my pouch of money into my bag. The temperature was beginning to drop and sleeping in a cold, metallic trash can takes a lot out of you. I sigh and began to turn around. I could almost feel the sympathy that projected itself from the mare, knowing that I didn't have enough to buy the coat. I walk away from the stand, knowing that I shouldn't have bought those apples.

As I walk away, I thought about my bit situation. Maybe having seven bits left wasn't so bad. I would a place to start tomorrow. But, I really need that coat if I want to stay warm tonight. Maybe I eat the apple and sleep in the bag tonight. I shake my head as I leave the square towards my alleyway I call "home". The wind begins to run through the air, making it seem like it's colder than it is. I begin to canter to the alleyway when I feel a presence behind me. I ignore it and continue on, hoping that whoever or whatever is following me leaves. I turn down the alleyway and take a look behind me to see who or what is following me. I look back to see a mare standing fifteen feet from the entrance to the alleyway. She stands at the average height for a mare. Her coat is a twinkling black. Her ocean blue mane and tail flow in the evening breeze. Her dark purple eyes gaze upon me with the looks of a mother. I can also tell she has horn that matches the same color as her eyes. I can also spy from her figure that she is wearing boots that have diamond encrusted tops. She quickly looks away and trots off into the inky night.

I duck into my alleyway and head over the trash can. I peer inside to find the note still safely secured under the rock, just the it had been left this morning. I crawl inside, immediately being taken by the coldness of the can. I lay down and take out an apple. It's smooth, shiny red skin tries to project itself in the darkness, which evokes a hunger from my stomach. I quickly send the apple to my mouth and take a bite out of it. The apples sweet juices wash over my tongue as I let a smile stretch itself across my face as I enjoy my tasty treat. But as I chew, the image of that mare burns it's way into my thoughts. The main question I have that is at the front of all my thoughts is,

Who is that mare?

She looked like a regular Ponyville citizen, but I hadn't seen her at all during the day, and the more I think about it, I haven't seen her during day at anytime since I got here. I feel as if she is more of a night pony rather than a day pony. I shrugged the away and continued to eat the apple. The last of the apples juices sprayed over my tongue and I tossed the apple core out of the trash can and curled up in the apple bag, holding the apples, and the note, close to me and started to drift off to sleep. But the image of that mare is glued into my thoughts. Maybe she wants to help me, or maybe she's just somepony who feels sorry for me. As sleep takes hold of me, I let my mind relax, hoping that I don't let go of that image.