Writing

Chapter 1: My Cutie Mark

I sit in my desk as my teacher stands in the front of the class talking about the history of Equestria.  That wasn’t on my mind right now; I could care less about history right now.  What was on my mind is what I plan on doing after this lesson.

Nervousness welled up inside me as I continue to think about it.  What if she doesn’t like it, I think to myself nervously.  I look out of the window and into the snow covered fields of Ponyville outside.  If my dad had his way I’d be working in the fields for the rest of my life, but that’s not want I want to do.  But I might do it.  It all depends on what will happen today.

My teacher, Ms. Cheerilee, continued talking about the discovery of Equestria and about Princess Platinum, Clover the Cleaver, Commander Hurricane, Private Pansy, Chancellor Puddinghead, and Smart Cookie.  About how they came to the land of Equestria after the windigoes ravaged their land with a great snowstorm.

It makes sense that she talked about that since Hearth’s Warming Day was coming up soon, but we already knew all of this from the Hearth’s Warming Eve plays that my family goes to every year.  Those plays are good, but after awhile they get repetitive and I just stop caring about going to them no matter how much my dad forced me to go to them.

Oh Celestia, why must time travel so slow in school? I ask myself in frustration.  Why can’t class end already?

“Okay class,” Ms. Cheerilee begins, “it’s time for recess.”

The class got up from their seats and ran outside into the snow while they happily talked to each other.  Except for me that is.  I stay in my classroom, still sitting in my seat.

Ms. Cheerilee walked over to me with a worried look on her face.  “Star Story, is everything all right?” she asks me.

“Well, um,” I begin as I look down to my orange hoof, “I was wondering.  Could you take a look at something?”  I want to just run out of class and never come back.  The nervousness I felt almost made me do it.

“Sure,” Ms. Cheerilee says happily.  “What do you want me to look at?”  A smile replaced her worried expression from earlier.

What if she doesn’t like it? I think to myself, now more nervous than I’ve ever been before.

I slowly reach into to my yellow saddlebags.  I pull out a few pieces of paper covered in writing.  I hoof over the papers to Ms. Cheerilee and she begins to look them over.  Meanwhile I try to hide behind my yellow mane too embarrassed to look at her as she reads my work.

I’ve always enjoyed writing, but my dad always hated it.  He would say that writing won’t get me anywhere in life.  That I should just give up on being a writer and be a farmer like he is.  But I don’t want that.  I want to be an author.  No matter what my dad would say.

“Wow,” Ms. Cheerilee says, “this isn’t that bad.  It’s actually pretty good.”

Instantly my head jolts up to see a smiling Ms. Cheerilee stands in front of me.  “Wha-what did you just say?” I ask.

“I said that what you did was good,” she says with a smile.

“You really think it’s good?” I ask in disbelief.

“Yeah, but there are a few errors,” she says, “but I don’t expect a colt to have perfect grammar.”  She lets out a small chuckle.

I don’t have anything to say.  I’m still in shock that somepony actually thinks my work is good.  My dad would always refuse to read anything I wrote.  He thought that literature isn’t important; I didn’t think that though.  I know that it is important.

After about five minutes of just sitting there in shock a smile comes to my face.  “You… you actually think its good!” I shout in glee.  “I can’t believe it!  Somepony said that my work is good!”

“Let’s not get carried away here,” Ms. Cheerilee jokes.

“Thank you, Ms. Cheerilee!” I say happily.  “Thank you for looking at it.”  I smile the biggest smile I can muster.

“It’s really no problem.  It is my job to help students out,” Ms. Cheerilee says.

The rest of the class trot into the room as they shake the snow off of their coats.  Just about all of them are happily talking.

Apple Bloom and her two friends trot over to me.  “Hey, Star Story.  When did ya get your cutie mark?” Apple Bloom asks me.

“Cutie mark?” I ask as I look to my flank to see that my flank isn’t blank anymore.  There on my flank was an open book with a pencil on the right page.  The right page is filled with words while the left is blank.  I can’t believe it.  Today somepony said that my work was good and I got my cutie mark.  Today is the best day of my life.

><><><><><

I gallop home.  Wanting to tell my dad that I got my cutie mark and Ms. Cheerilee said that my story was good.  I gallop through the snow as it falls to the ground.  Winter truly is an amazing season.  The best part about it was there was no harvest in winter, so I could do just about all of the reading and writing I could without my dad telling me get back to work.

It is a short amount of time before I got home and galloped into the front door of my house.  I quickly go into the main room of the house where I find my dad sitting in a chair next to a fire.  His beige coat shined with the glow of the fire.

“Did you have fun at school today?” he asks me with a small smile on his face.

“Yeah!  Dad, guess what!” I tell him excitedly.

“What is it, Star?” he asks.

“Ms. Cheerilee looked over one of my stories!” I exclaim.

“And what did she say?” he asks, his smile is now fading.

“She said that it was good!  And look what I got after words!”  I point one of my orange hooves to my cutie mark.

“Oh, I see,” is all that he says.

“Dad, what’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing, just go to your room,” he says sternly, almost as if he is unhappy with me.

“What did I do?” I ask curiously.

“Nothing, now go.”  He pointed a hoof towards my room.

I slowly trot to my room with my head hung low.  “Dad?” I ask.

“What is it, Star?” he asks me.

“Since I got my cutie mark, can I write more often?” I ask hopefully.

“No, now get to your room,” he says to me.

“Okay,” I say, as I begin walking towards my room with my head hung low.

My room isn’t much.  All it has in it is a desk, a bed and a small bookshelf that I had gotten for myself after countless weeks of saving up my allowance.  I trot over and flop down onto my bed.

“Why?” I ask myself out loud.  “Why doesn’t he want me to do what I want to do?”  Tears begin to go down my face as I ask myself these questions and lay on my bed.

><><><><><

Hours has passed since I was sent to my room.  Why did my dad send me to my room? I silently ask myself.  What did I do?  Shouldn't he be happy since I got my cutie mark?  He's always wanted me to get one before.

I continue to lay on my bed.  Unsure on what to do next.  Maybe I should go apologize to him for whatever I did.  Maybe that would make him happier.  But why did he say that I couldn't write anymore?  Is writing really that bad?  I want to go down stairs and ask him what I did and apologize for it, but I don't move.  I continue to lay on my bed.

I'm going to do it.  I'm going to ask him what I did, I think to myself confidently.  I slowly get off of my bed.  I want to go, but my body doesn't.  For some reason it's not wanting me to ask my dad what I did.  I start to trot towards my room's door, but it was even slower than getting off of my bed.

I trot out of my room and into the hallway to make my way towards the main room of the house.  It seems like hours trotting towards the main room, but I finally get there and my dad is still sitting in the chair next to a warm fire.

I clear my throat and my dad looks at me.  I can still see anger in on his face.  "Dad, what did I do to make you mad at me?" I ask him.

He glares at me and I half thought about going back to my room to lay down and go to sleep, but I don't.  "Go to your room, son," he commands.

I take a small step forward.  "No, I want to know why you're mad at me.  I want to know what I did, so I can fix it somehow," I say with confidence.

"Star, nothing you can do can fix what you did," he said, "now get to your room."

"What did I do!" I shout to my dad wanting to know what I did.  Tears begin to come down my face.

"Do you really want to know?" he asks me as he looks away from me.

"Yes, I do!" I shout at him as more tears flow down my cheeks.

"You've made my life miserable!" he shouts at me.

I didn't expect that to be the answer.  I thought I had gotten a bad grade on a test at school, but making his life miserable.  How in Equestria could I have done that?

"First you took your mother away from me!  And now you have a stupid cutie mark in something that's not even important!" my dad shouts.  "Writing!  You got you cutie mark in writing stories!  Fictional stories!  Who even needs those things?  You should have gotten it in something that I can make use of.  Like bucking orange trees!  That's something I could live with."  Anger filled my dad's face.

"Dad..." I mumble.

"And you even took your mother away from me!  Because of you she's dead!  If you weren't here she'd be alive!  I actually would trade you just to see her again!"

"Dad..." I say a bit louder, but he still doesn't hear me.

"I would trade you for good to have her again!"

"Dad!" I shout at him.

"What do you even want?" he says with hate.

"You don't want me?  You don't even care about me?" I ask.

"No, I never wanted you!" he shouted at me again.

"Fine," I say.  I turn around and trot back to my room.  I can feel the glare my dad is giving me as I trot to my room.  If he didn't want me then he'd get his wish.

I enter my room and put my notebook and a few books into my saddlebags.  I put on a scarf and put my saddlebags on my back.  If my dad didn't want me then he'd get his wish.  I trot to a window in my room.  If I went out the front door he'd stop me and the back door is in the dining room, and I have to go past the main room to get to it from my room.  So I'm going to go out a window.

I open a window in my room and snow flies into it.  Snow is everywhere outside.  It falls from the sky in sheets.  I look back at my room considering whether or not if I should go.  But then I remember what my dad had said and hopped out of the window into the snow.