Humble Beginnings
This is the tale of two mares. Two mares, who were vastly different, both by action and character. One was your typical hard-working pony, who did her best to thrive in the town she was raised in. The other, well, most would say she was insane, crazy, unhinged. Most will never know the true story, this story, her story. I take up my pen to tell you the tale of Golden Harvest, and the mare that history will forever know as the one who caused an entire town to trust a little less, who caused formerly friendly ponies to become wary, cynical, and suspicious of all around them. This, my friends, is the tale of a pony whose obsession knew no bounds, limits, or restraint. This is the tale of Berry Punch, known to history as the Blood Red Killer.
Berry walked slowly behind her parents, staring down at the ground as she did. She had learned that the less eye contact she made with her mother and father, the less of their attention she would invite upon herself. She had once made the mistake of staring at her mother, as she downed glass after glass of her own homemade wine. Wincing at the memory, Berry stumbled. Her mother had caught her stare, and proceeded to beat her, telling Berry that what she did was none of her business, that she was a grown mare, she could drink if she’d like.
As much as Berry feared her mother, it was her father that she was truly afraid of. A stallion that was prone to fits of rage at a moments notice; he was a stallion to be feared. He never laid a hoof on Berry, but his face alone was enough to send shivers down her back. Berry avoided her father at all costs, only being around him if he called her, which was mercifully infrequent. Berry lived in constant fear of her father, afraid that the beatings she witnessed her mother receive would be done to her.
Berry continued down the path. Her one relief was when she got to go outside, which was only when her parents went to the Harvest’s produce farm. Why she was allowed to leave was beyond her comprehension, but Berry didn’t question it. She was just happy to be out of her house. Second only to her parents, her home scared her. It was a dank, dark, cold place. The oppression in her home weighed on her, both mentally and emotionally, She would stay awake for hours at a time, afraid to go to sleep.
Berry allowed herself a small, almost negligible smile. The small filly didn’t get to leave the house more than twice a month or so, and she wasn’t about to dwell on bad things while outside. She walked slowly along, taking in the fresh outdoor air. How she loved the smell of fresh cut grass, the smell of pine trees, and just the smell of the outdoors. What she loved most of all was the smell of the Harvest’s produce farm. The plethora of produce and other sundries they had to offer was only rivaled by the Apple family. She loved getting to walk among the fruits and vegetables, especially the Harvest’s most popular crop, their carrots.
Berry was woken from her day dreaming, as she stumbled into her mother, who had stopped walking, as they had arrived at the Ponyville famous Harvest farm. “Little pest,” her mother hissed. “Can’t you pay attention to where you’re going, or do I need to adjust your neck for you?” Berry shrank back, cowering. “How I raised such a worthless whelp, I’ll never know. Come on, we don’t have time for your dalliance.” She glared at Berry, before turning back to her husband. He merely glanced at Berry, shook his head, and walked forward into the gates of the Harvest Farm.
Moving past the front gates, they walked into the produce section, which was filled with all kinds of produce. Luscious grapes, mouthwatering sweet melons, the place was filled to the , brim with fresh produce of the finest quality. Berry’s father spoke in a halting, grim voice. “You know the drill, Berry. Your mother and I are here to get what we need, and get out. Stay out of the way, and leave us be. But you had better be at the front gate when we are.” With those chilling words, her father and mother moved on, leaving Berry alone.
She sat there for a few minutes, not daring to move in case her parents were still around. Straining her ears and eyes to the max, she tentatively made a move with her front hoof, then her back. Assured that her parents were gone, she walked towards her favorite crop stand, the carrots. She loved carrots. Their orange hue mesmerized her, but it was the smell that captivated her the most. It allowed her to almost forget who she was, and what she had to endure each day. Day dreaming was her one and only solace in her daily realm of waking nightmares.
For the second time that day, Berry’s day dreaming caught her unawares. Unlike the first time however, this was not one of her parents. Nay, it was the filly that would forever capture Berry Punch’s heart.
“Oh, how I love the smell of fresh carrots.” A high pitched, squeaky voice broke through Berry’s day dreams. Looking around, she saw a small, orange filly, with a mass of curly orange mane. “Oh. Hi! I’ve never seen you before. My name’s Golden Harvest, but most everypony calls me Carrot Top. What’s your name?” Carrot Top beamed at Berry, not noticing the way she shied away.
This was the first time anypony had ever taken notice of Berry. She had not one idea of what to do, never having been spoken to by anypony other than her parents. So ,she did the only thing she knew to do; keep silent, and look at the ground. It was then Carrot Top noticed how Berry was acting. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt ya. Sorry if I scared you.” She smiled softly, trying to look as harmless as she could.
Is she for real? Berry thought to herself. Nopony has ever noticed me, let alone talked to me before. She looked up just the tiniest bit. Seeing the soft smile on Carrot Top’s face was soothing enough, but it was her orange mane that she noticed the most. No wonder she’s known as Carrot Top. She looks like a giant carrot. I guess she can’t be bad, not if she looks like that. “M-my name’s B-berry Punch.”
“Berry Punch... I like that name! Whatcha doing here all by yourself?” Carrot Top asked.
How do I answer that? I can’t tell her about my parents. “Oh, you know. Just hanging out with the carrots. I like carrots.” Smooth as sandpaper...
Carrot Top smiled. “That makes sense. I love carrots.” She paused. “What about your parents, don’t they get worried about ya?”
Way to ask the one question I don’t want to answer. The small filly shook her head. "Nah, as long as I stay out of trouble, they really don’t care what I do."
Carrot Top scuffed the ground with a hoof. “I wish my parents were like that. They can be so, what’s the word, overbeening, overbaseing...” She stuck her tongue out, scrinching her face in concentracion. “Overbearing! That’s it. They can be really overbearing. It’s like they don’t trust me to do anything.”
Berry gave a wry chuckle. “It just shows they care. They want to keep you safe. Trust me, it’s better than being ignored.” Or worse, when you do get attention, it’s not the good kind.
Carrot Top sighed. “I guess. I just wish they would let me do stuff on my own. The only thing they let me do by myself is walk around our farm, and even then they worry about me. Anyways, I best be getting back to them. Celestia knows they’ll get their tails in a bunch if I don’t.”
It must be nice to have parents that care for you. “Okay, Carrot Top. Have a good day, and be safe.” Berry winked and stuck her tongue out at Carrot Top, as the latter ran off, giving the red filly a humor-filled glare. I best be getting back to the front gate, before I’m late. Berry Punch shivered. I really don’t want to be late.
Berry Punch scurried off, still a little shocked. A filly my age, and she talked to me. This is the best thing ever! I can’t believe it. I just hope my parents don’t find out, they would never let me out of the house again.
Arriving at the front entrance to the farm, Berry sat, crossing her hooves as she waited for her parents. I am so glad I made it here before my parents. As nice as talking with Carrot Top was, I was afraid I was going to be late. I’m just glad she had to go when she did. I didn’t want to sound rude, and tell her I needed to go.
Berry sighed. She hated having to go back to her house after having been outside, especially after meeting Carrot Top. I can’t imagine what’s like, having parents that care for you. Carrot Top seemed so happy and carefree. I can’t remember ever feeling like how she looked.
Berry Punch shifted, sighing. Why did her parents treat her the way they did? She never did anything to them, she stayed out of their way as much as possible, so why did they hate her? What she didn’t realize, is that nothing she could do would ever make a difference to her parents. That’s just the kind of ponies they were; unreasonable, hard hearted individuals, made so from their own abusive childhoods. Of course, the oppressed filly had no way of knowing any of this. She only knew that her parents scared her to death.
Oh, how nice it would be to have parents that took a good kind of interest in you. My mom and dad don’t care about me, how I feel, what my dreams are. They only seem to notice me if I’m in their way somehow, they want me for whatever Celestia forsaken reason, or if they are leaving to come here.
Her musings were interrupted, as her parents made their way to the front gate of the farm, loaded with bags of produce and other sundries. “Come, Berry, we’re leaving,” her father said with nary a glance at the small filly. Her mother was more attentive, just not in the way the red filly wished.
“Why aren’t you walking? You heard your father. We aren’t going to wait for you, so get that flank moving. Here, take these bags from me. I’m far too tired to carry them myself. You’re young, you should be carrying these anyway. You have it easy, you know; when I was your age, my mother would make me carry two buckets of water from the local well. which was three miles from our house.” Her mother rolled her eyes, seeking patience from the sky. “Hurry up and take these things from me! You have no idea how lucky you are. My mother took a cane to me if I didn’t hop to whatever she told me to do.”
The small filly stumbled forward, looking down at the gravel filled road beneath her. Yeah, I’m so lucky. Instead of a cane, I get ignored, except for when you get bored and need something to distract you. Then I get all your attention, and it all stinks!
I can’t wait to see Carrot Top again. It’s nice to be noticed. Berry Punch took a fleeting glance at her parents. As long as they are around though, I’ll never really be free to do anything...
Author's Note
So, this was a very different style for me. The closest thing I have come to writing a dark story is Broken, and that was more dark when it came to the emotion, rather than the actual content.
As I write more and more of this, it will get darker and darker. I am attempting to push out of my usual style with this, both in genre and the way it is being written.
Hope you enjoyed this, and please let me know what you think. Brutal honesty is welcomed and encouraged.