My beloved brother. A personal story.
'ello reader. My name in this world is Alonso Alons-y. My people live in the far northern regions where the mountains are high and weather cold and bitter. I am what some call a "norse-horse". And today I wish to tell you all about little miracle named Happy Sun.
Keep in mind that the names used here has nothing to do with the story of the Mad Pony In a Trench Coat.
My parents met at a very young age, and felt something at the start. Young, stupid love.
The problem is that they within a year of having just met each other, gave birth to me.
I was never planned for, and my parents had not even though of marriage or even living together until this point.
So because of me they moved together, having no real income as they were still just barely adults.
They managed to get a life working, with very much sacrifice in time. For this, I am thankful.
However having been forced together to live with another so quickly, and for the only real reason being a filly they never expected, they never got the chance to bind properly. And soon the other's flaws shined through..
They began to hate each other, and started blaming me for having forced them together.
I grew up with the disapproval of my parents glooming over me like an umbrella. They sometimes tried to pretend that we were a happy family when other relatives or friends of them came over, but it was clear to everyone that it was a scene. When I was three years old, I was rather tubby as I kept eating whatever I came across to comfort myself.
And at that same time, and to everypony's surprise, I was blessed with a younger brother.
My name given to me by my parents is not Alonso, it is a name I took myself when I started cutting the ropes to them.
My brother, however, was named Happy Sun. His mane was golden white and shined like an holy aura whenever he was close to light. And he smiled all the time. The happiest little filly you would ever see.
However. Both sides of my family suffers from a number of illnesses. Both physical as strong rheumatism and fragile skeletons, as to mental disadvantages... I was early on given the diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome. A mental condition that is in the big picture unique between every individual, but most shares the lack of social understanding.
Due to this, I was very awkward as a child. I never understood common logic in behaviour. Like my parents endless rage for both each other and me, or why other ponies bullied me just because I was chubby. These things did not compute for me. And worst part is, I was not the one suffering the most.
We all quickly realized that there was something "wrong" with Happy. He quickly began to loose his smile, and grew distant even as an infant. By the time he was three and still refused to speak or even play with others, we went to the doctors again. He was given the diagnosis of Autism.
For those who do not know, Autism is a mental condition that is most commonly called "retarded" or "fruit-level" amongst most ponies who does not bother to learn. The doctors told us that he would never be able of communication, of showing or understanding emotions, and that we should be satisfied if we could get him to eat without our aid.
For as many wrongs as my parents did... neither of them was at this young point in their lives quitters.
They gathered every saved bit we had and went to Manehattan, knowing that in the giant capital there was professionals of a different calibre. They went there and attended seminaries to learn and evolve...
When they returned a week later, they put their new skills to practice. Every day they simply copied what Happy was doing. If he sat on the floor just patting it, they would do the same. If he stood just staring out the windows for hours, they would too. I joined in myself, as best I could or was allowed at the age of six.
We even moved during this, to a very cheap location out in the forest where both me and Happy could be more free and our parents get away from everything. We still went to see the local doctors and psychiatrists about Happy.
I was put in the corner as he needed all the attention. Something I could not understand.
I was year after year struggling to earn my parents attention and approval. I did all I could in school, even though the bullying of me being strange and my brother stranger drove my underdeveloped mind to crack. And I began to hate my brother for robbing me of what little fun or care I once had from my parents.
Happy got all the privileges. He could eat whatever he wanted whenever he wanted because he was so skinny and picky with real food. He could do whatever he wanted and wreck whatever he wanted as my parents hoped for signs of communication. This tired them. Both working hard and dealing with Happy and each other...
Sadly, this ended up on me. Neither of them could let out steam on Happy for what he did. And they both stayed away from each other best they could to not argue... But I was still but a filly and tried to gain their attention best I could.
This triggered them. And everything that annoyed them with their other half or Happy, with work or other relatives, poured out on me.
This is why I started to hate my brother. He lived in luxury. New toys, new games, all the attention and the best of food and sweetest treats. And sure, anypony can relate to sibling rivalry, but carry in mind that I was born without any kind of social understanding. I could not comprehend any of this on even the most fundamental level..
Time went on. Years passed. And by the time I was 8 and Happy was 5, I had lost all spirit.
I had put myself in acceptance of my situation and simply accepted that this was life.
Constantly forced to babysit the brother I hated, and nothing I did was appreciated or rewarded.
I was in a drone-like state. Like an ant, simply obeying orders without questioning it.
Happy was showing growth, becoming more open and seeking people out to just look at them or try to get them making funny faces. This was a huge step for my brother. Something the world said was impossible.
And as much as my story seems all sobby and self-pitying, it really is not. I am giving the cold truth out of an psychological standpoint of what was going on in my life. And I am about to tell you how it all changed..
When my parents went into a fit over something, it could be anything, they would not stop until they felt that they had raged enough to become tired. A single fit could last for days, refusing to even look at me and everything spoken to me was in a hissing or angry tone. I spent most time I could alone, hiding in my books and games to escape reality.
And one day during a weekend, after one of the longest cold-war-feelings between me and my parents, they exploded on me and let the harsh words hail. Eventually I cracked, screamed and began bashing my head against a wall.
I than rushed out and hid myself in my treehouse I had built in the forest, just crying my eyes out.
I do not know how long time passed, as my mind was just swirling. But I soon realized that I felt comfortable.
I was embraced, hugged. Looking up, I saw Happy sitting next to me, wrapping his hooves around me.
Not a sound. He had just sought me out to give me a hug in my time of need.
I whimpered his name and hugged him back. And it was then and there I realized how wrong I had been.
Happy could not help his situation. He could not even understand it. He was given stuff by our parents and the rest of the world either out of pity or wish to help. He could not help that, it was not his fault. Why had I hated him?
After this, we spent way more time together. Even more so than before, when I had constantly needed to babysit him or hide him when our parents argued because I too pitied that he had to be near it. And I soon realized how much we had in common. We liked the same things. Being left alone and just have fun.
A few years passed, and my brother Happy and I grew closer by the day. He even helped me out on several occasions.
He was once given a popsicle shortly before dinner, because he had pointed at the freezebox, which was a huge step in his communication. And so, I asked if I too could have one. Which caused my parents to spaz out.
Beginning their rant of how I could not expect the same treatment as Happy, since he was handicapped and I was not. And they asked me to give them a single reason to why I should also get one. Once I got the chance to actually say that, I responded that I just did not think it was fair since he teased me with having one.
This was, in the eyes of a filly atleast, true. He was enjoying his popsicle and often did it close or next to me as we companied each other. And my parents was just about to start another fit over how much of a lie that was, since Happy could not communicate, when Happy walked back into the room looked at both our parents, and turned to me.
He lifted his frozen treat slowly to his own mouth, and began licking it manically like a madpony! All while making over-the-top and cartoonish "om nom nom yum nom yum" sounds, and than just left the room. Leaving my parents chocked over seeing such an act from the normally silent and none-communicative Happy.
My brother had never done something like that before, especially not in front of me. He came back, hearing the argument, and I know that somewhere inside, he realized what it was about and that I needed help.
After this, my parents grew more silent. More observant. Constantly seeking me and my brother out as we spent most time together, and saw what I had not realized. How much Happy was communicating with me alone.
When we played, he pointed at things and made sounds, he laughed and he smiled or if he didn't like something he made faces and grunted.
Soon relatives and friends of the family also began to see this, and realized how strong a'bond me and my brother had gotten. I did not know this at the time, for me it was just how things was. But I must tell you how things took yet another turn for the better..
During one of my brother's birthdays, his favourite time of year because he loved presents and cake, something it turned out later he was a natural for making, we all sang the common song. And he was so glad when we did it.
So, because I noticed his giant smile during that song, I kept singing it to him weeks and months after the party.
And one day.. I was aiding my mother in the kitchen with some dishes, when Happy marched in!
He cast a serious-looking face at both my mother and I, standing tall and proud, and opened his mouth.
"Happy bufday to-jo! happy bufday to-jo!" smiled, and walked out.
My brother's, my brother who's hair shined like the sun and always smiled the biggest most innocent smile, first word was "happy". His first-ever spoken word represented him as a being so well. The filly who had never spoken a single word, suddenly began spluttering sentences. And this was just the start!
Soon he began copying everything we said, showing that he had for quite some time understood what we said, but probably just waited to put the pieces together. And soon he began formulating his own sentences, copy-pasting things we said into his own manner of speech. It was basic, and sometimes a bit gibberish, but he was talking!
My brother showed that the professional doctors and psychiatrists who had deemed him basically a walking vegetable, was wrong. And this inspired me. I began to, just as I entered my -utterly- confusing teenage years, study psychology on my spare time. And after a few years, I did not only understand myself and my limits better, but my world.
I understood why my parents acted like they hated me, I understood why people bullied others for seemingly no valid reasons. I understood all the wrongs I did against a pair of parents who were tired to the bones of both working hard and dealing with a handicapped child and a partner they did not like.
So, in the end. I was never as flawless as I had hoped or tried to be. I was a stupid filly who was trying too hard and craving attention from a pair of parents who was too busy. Does this excuse their behaviour? No. But it made me grow up and overcome most of my born-with flaws. It improved my life, gave me friends and a name for myself.
All because of the most jolly and grinning smile I've ever seen. The brother I hated for years, and than realized he was the closest thing to a friend and family I had. Happy Sun, my brother. A brother I would not trade the world for.
Over the past years, I became a lot like a father for Happy. I grew large, tall and strong, while he remained skinny and fragile. I began talking back to our parents, making them realize I could not be sat on as easily anymore.
I took more and more care of Happy, and if he needed something, he came to me.
Today I see my brother in many ways more as my own son than anything else, because in many aspects he is still just a child mentally. And will always be. He needs someone to protect him and hold his hoof when he is outside and maybe starts acting out or just screams in happiness. And I see no reason to not always be there for the pony that turned my life around without intending too, without asking for anything in return, without judging me.
The world calls him handicapped, retarded or slow. I call him the perfect being. He is an adult with a child's mind, the purest of child-mind. He wishes no-one anything bad, he is incapable of doing so. He is just a happy-go-lucky guy who loves his parents and brother. And ice cream. And cake. Lots of cake.
This is the story of me and my brother. Of how I felt growing up with my syndrome making it harder for me to co-op.
And how my brother, whom I love so dearly and would honestly kill to protect, might just have saved my life.
Happy Sun. Thank you for shining on me.
A prison bake.
When you look at Equestria today, you see mostly harmony. Ponies get along, they are kind and live in a very organized and helpful society. It all seems hunky-dory and perfect, but in reality it is not -quite- as perfect.
Crime does happened. Not everypony is blessed with a personal talent that can grant them a fulfilling job or even payment. Some are naturally good at things that are simply not useful for the community, and are thus forced to take jobs they really can not stand, or are not given any jobs at all due to their lacking merits.
Therefor some go without a single bit to their name and no roof to their mane. They are forced to take drastic actions...
And more often then not, does these desperate ponies repeat these acts to be sent to jail. Because at least there they have a bed, a roof and get food.
Some ponies, and very few mind you, are not this unfortunate. Some are just horrible individuals caused by other things. Parents, can be a major problem. Ever noticed that a pony's personal skill is very much often simular to their names? Names given to them by their parents. So if you got parents of the... less creative minds?
Shortly put and to not bore you. Ponies goes to prison for different reasons. Some because they are desperate, some because they disserve it, some because situations got out of control... And we are going to look at some today.
I am not going to tell you how a prison operates or looks in every detail, I think most of you have seen pictures or read about it. So as you know, all the doors to the cells are locked by the guards at the evening when the prisoners are guided back to their cells. This one time, the guards forgot a couple of these cells...
The guards responsible for locking the cells had a system. They would start at one end each and cover what the other did not. They would meet at the middle before they would go to the next floor and repeat. However sometimes prisoners spur and spaz out when the guards get close, and this time one did.
Causing the guard on the other row of the cells to rush to his friends aid to pull the reaching prisoner away, accidentally forgetting the last few cells on his row... Inside these three forgotten cells was two ponies each.
A murderer, two thieves, a burglar, an attempted murderer and a terrorist.
They had all noticed that the cells never got locked, but kept silent about it and acted like nothing, pretending to sleep and make private plans for what to do. One of the 'veterans' of the prison, the murderer pegasus Sky Drop, was first to act. Sneaking to the cell and sliding it open. His cellmate, a thief earth-pony by the name Dirt Dig, joined him.
Being the only other ones awake, the ponies from the other cells quickly joined as they heard the weak sound of the metal door to Sky's and Dirt's cell. They all knew each other very poorly, but they knew another's sentence as that was the closest thing to status amongst prisoners there was. And Sky had been known for being here a long time for his act.
"... Lucky turn of events, would you not say gents?" Sky smirked as he whispered to the others who left their cells.
Dirt was just about hiding behind the large pegasus, nervous and still just a young adult. The other four approached and nodded as answer. Without much other said, Sky simply nodded to stairs leading down to the main floor, and they all silently moved down there.
Two of them were pegasi, but they all were forced to wear a cramping belt over their wings to prevent them from flying. Just like the only unicorn in the group had a clamped ring on his horn, blocking all magic. Therefor they were all forced to move by hoof, and snuck as best they could. Somehow not alerting or waking up any of their fellow prisoners.
"So... what now? We got only a few hours before the guards return.." Dancing Colours, or Dance as they called him, was the other pegasus part from Sky, spoke. "And we still have these confounded belts..."
Sky gave him a dry, bored look. "You can do as you please, I am a leader for no-one. But I have a personal goal.."
The bound pegasus began to walk down the hallway he knew all too well after these years. It's become routine.
The others followed though, not sure what else to do. Dirt was always sticking very close to Sky, as the large and middle-aged air-dweller was not only his cellmate, but had taken pity on the young one.
"So... uhm... What are you going to do, sir Sky?" He stuttered. "Break out?"
Sky shook his head, as he reached the kitchen and kicked the flimsy lock open. "Bake."
He entered, leaving the others to look at him with confused looks.
It took them all a silent minute of just looking at another, hoping for anyone to come up with an idea or a plan, while listening to the occasional sounds Sky made inside the kitchen. Eventually they all shrugged and joined him.
Sky was moving around in the kitchen with a soft smile, the first time anypony had seen him do so!
"So... uhm... whatcha baking there?" The unicorn and attempted murderer, Flash Light, asked.
"Chocolate cake. My mother always used to bake them with me when I was a filly." He answered, smiling softly.
The other five gathered around him, as the mix he was making filled the air with a soft hint of cocoa.
It did not take long before the rest of them were involved as well. Having nothing better to do, and not wanting to waste this one night of freedom. Soon the kitchen was lit up with located candles, the stove brought to life and several bowls was being stirred with different blends and mixes.
They began to talk about their reasons for being here. Dirt showed courage by going first. He had been abandoned early by his earth-pony parents, for reasons unknown. And became very shy and nervous at the Canterlot Orphanage.
He had finally run away, and tried to make a living with the only thing he was good at. Digging..
Needlessly to say, it had not gone too well. And he was soon forced to start stealing food from markets and shops to just get by. Constantly digging himself holes to live and hide in, but eventually got caught.
The others pitied the young one, saying that at least he was here on the shortest sentence of the lot, and maybe could find job for a construction-company. That cheered the boy up, and he asked Sky for his reason.
The pegasus sighed, and began to tell his story of how he became one of the few murderers in modern history.
Killing another pony was a crime that was punished with life-time. And Sky Drop had been just an average hard-working weather-manager until one night. Having worked hard for his usual minimum wage, he had come home to his house in Skydale to find his wife cheating on him. He had long felt that their once young and exciting romance was dying, but not to this level. Sky was known for being able to freely fall from any altitude and than spread his strong wings and avoid the earth with minimum distance. The pony she had cheated with was a earth pony, so when he in rage threw him out of their cloud-carried house, the earthern stood no chance against the earth.
The others silenced for a moment. For some reason, they had all pictured his story to be more gruesome. But in their honest opinions, it was a very reasonable act. Sky had not intended to kill the pony, just throw him out and forgotten in his rage where they lived. To break the silence, Flash Light began to stir his bowl again and spoke.
He had been a student at the academy for magic, and was punished for attempted murder due to a spell going out of control. During one of his tests, he was to turn a bird into a flower and then back. Sadly, he sneezed when casting the spell, causing it to just barely miss and hit his teacher. The spell was calibrated for the bird's small size, and had a... disturbing effect on the teacher. And no matter how much Flash tried, he knew nothing of his to aid his teacher who was vomiting growing vines that slowly choked him from the inside...
The ponies made faces of the image in their minds, but they could not help but smile a little out of compassion. It had been an accident after all.
And like this they carried on. Even when the cake was in the oven and they kept working on the icing they spoke about their different tales, their reasons for being jailed, and discovered that none of them was really bad ponies.
They all had done things they should not, but some was out of accident, some was out of desperation... nothing evil.
That same morning, just a few hours later, the guards came back to check on the prisoners. To their terror and guilt they found three cells unlocked, opened and empty. And was about to send a emergency letter to the princess about it, when the six ponies came walking casually down the hallway. Laughing, talking, all in good spirits and happy smiles.
They greeted the dumb-founded guards and offered some samples of their pastries that they carried with them.
In all this, the guards were taken dumbfounded and did not know what to do. Other then politely accept what they were offered and listen to their explanation. They told the guards that they had borrowed the kitchen, but cleaned up once they were done. Sky apologized for the broken lock, but said it was not all TOO busted to not be hammered back.
After that, the prisoners all returned to their own cells calmly and closed the doors. Yes, they were prisoners, but they had that night gotten friends, a chance of freedom, and learned that they were not alone in their misfortune.
Also, the lot spent most of that day sleeping the best sleep they had in a long time.
After this, they kept meeting. And while several of the six got to leave the prison, one by one, they all always came back during the holidays to greet another and exchange gifts. They had bonded, and while in the end only Sky remained in prison, they kept sending letters. And after a few years, Sky was even getting visits from his own son...
This story is based on a recent event in Sweden. Where several prisoners found themselves free to roam the prison unguarded for a whole night. And they spent that night baking in the prison kitchen and watching TV, just having a grand time until the morning when they were calmly and happily brought back to their cells once the guards found them.
Not all people in prison are bad people. And things like this, that such unstained and innocent acts can take place in a building meant to hold back murderers and psycho's? It fills one with hope. Does it not?
