Generosity of a Mare

Dear Rarity,

Thanks a lot for sending me that letter. It’s good to know I have a friend outside of these walls. Also, don’t forget to thank my other friends for proofreading this thing so you won’t have to take how bad my English really is, haha.

I don’t think you should feel bad for what you did, at all. You had to do what you had to do, you know? Looking back, I still can’t believe I did all that crazy shit to her… or maybe I can.

Back before flight camp, Gilda and I lived over in the griffon territories, like lots of big mountains and cliffs and stuff. We had friends and all, but when nobody else was around, we only had ourselves, and those were very important times for us. We didn’t have many gadgets or toys growing up, but we always found something to do and always had a blast doing it. Sometimes we had fun just not being able to come up with anything, if that makes any sense. I could write you an entirely different letter just based on our childhood together, but some of the best times of my life were spent being around her.

Before I go any farther, I just wanna say this: I’m not blaming anybody or anything for her behavior. Not Rainbow Dash, not flight camp, definitely not you nor anybody else. I also wanna say I’m not completely innocent, either, which is pretty obvious seeing as how I’m writing this from a cage. I think we both thought we were totally innocent but the other one wasn’t, you know?

Six months before we went to flight camp, we both had to move in with our grandparents up in Canterlot because our parents couldn’t afford taking us to the local flight camp. Why did we have to move to the flight school in Canterlot for years when we could’ve just gone to Cloudsdale first? Long story, tell you later. But anyway, as we were on the way to our new place, it seemed like we were gonna live better lives, like live in better homes, eat better food, work less, all that nice stuff. But it wasn’t until we got there that we realized we ended up in the “wrong” side of Canterlot, where all the crime, gangs and violence went down. It didn’t take long for us to get used to it, either. In most cases, if you weren’t in some kind of gang, you’d get the hell beaten out of you or killed, and there weren’t a lot of shortcuts through the neighborhood to avoid them. My sister had it a little easier for some reason, but for me, it went all the way. I had to do things I didn’t want for the sake of my own life, and as a result, it shaped me into an angry, violent person that I don’t like.

Obviously, I wasn’t the only one going through changes. Gilda started hanging around different groups, like these clicks, you know? Cliques, clicks, I forget which one. I never liked the people she hung out with, and I’d hardly call them friends. They got her into trouble a lot in school and on the streets, but she never really cared, even when I pointed it out. Sometimes we wouldn’t see for her weeks straight, then she’d come home a drunk mess, angry and furious. Even when it was just us, she didn’t like hanging out with me anymore, and it made us both very distant. I don’t know how much it hurt her, but it definitely broke my heart.

Years passed and we went to Cloudsdale together. I thought getting to live under better circumstances would’ve made things improve, but boy was I wrong. She’d yell and snap at me over completely pointless things, like pointing out she was wrong or warning her about something. She’d insult me both in my face and behind my back. It seemed all the times she did it was when I was trying to help her. That stupid Rainbow Dash she hung out with pissed me off the most. I swear she must’ve been the biggest reason my sister became such a bitch.

I’m sorry for snapping about your friend. Don’t let her read this. It feels good just to let out pent up emotions to somebody, you know? I have friends I can talk to, but you’re different for some reason. No, I won’t take back what I wrote about Rainbow Dash. Another side of me wants to tear her up the same way I did Gilda, but naturally that didn’t work out the first time. Maybe I’m wrong about her, but I just want to blame my anger on somebody and destroy them. She might be completely innocent, and I kind of hope she is.

By the end of flight school, Gilda practically hated me. The only times she’d ever talk to me would be once or twice every month or so, and even then she didn’t seem to care. It was like looking at a completely different person. We both got jobs and we both worked, but it didn’t work out very well for the both of us. It was mainly just medial jobs like running stores, fixing things, weather patrol, all that stuff. Then after we found out our grandparents were getting too sick to run their bar in Canterlot, me and sis decided we would team up and take over the business for them. Sounded like a great idea at the time: getting a good, stable job while bonding with my sister again, right? But just like before, she was mean to me and pretty much everybody around her. Everything got worse. Two or three years passed and then, like an angel, you suddenly came in and somehow fixed everything.

I liked what you said about making mistakes: they’re just microchasms in our lives… or whatever that word means. I looked it up in the dictionary and couldn’t find it. Are you trying to mess with me, Rarity? Anyway, making mistakes doesn’t mean nothing but bad happens. I wanted to say this really bad when I was back in Ponyville, but mistakes are really important in our lives. If we didn’t suffer or feel pain, we would never look for help, right? That’s what happened back at the bar. You think it’s so bad you stole that bottle, but if you hadn’t, nothing would’ve changed between me and my sister. She’s been visiting me a lot in jail lately, and I can already tell the way she acts is really different. Maybe not different in all the good ways, but it’s a start, and lots of things still need to be fixed. We are talking in ways I thought we never would ever again. I have you to thank, Rarity.

I guess that’s enough about me. Can’t wait to see when you and Pinkie visit. It’ll be good to add another two visitors to the list, and maybe me and sis can work something out so we can all talk together and whatnot. So much is changing in my life right now, I don’t even care I’m in jail. Also, you don’t have to worry about my head, either: it’s pretty thick! I came away with some internal bleeding, but it went away really fast. I’m pretty glad you hit me with that bench. In a way, I wish you hit a little harder or with something bigger. It’s actually kind of funny now to think of being hit with a freakin’ park bench of all things. You must have some serious magic power, Rarity. Ponies oughta’ watch out around you, I’m being serious.

Again, Rarity, thank you so much for what you’ve done for me. I may just be one guy in a world full of them, but when things get bad, you’ll always have my support and appreciation.

It feels good to have my sister back.

From your friend,

Flicker