Author's Note
Sorry ahead of time for any bad grammar.
Its like trying to touch my toes; I try... but... ... ...dammit...
Sometimes...
It was a clear afternoon in the Crystal Providence. Applebloom spent her day off sitting on her soft couch in her living room, relaxing and reading a book. Without any provocation, she lifted her head from the book at looked at the nearby clock on the wall. As a mother, sometimes you’d just sometimes know when something was going to happen, especially when it involves your fouls. She stared at the clock, synchronizing the tapping of her hooves with the clocks ticking hand.
She whispered to herself, “Three…Two…One…”
As if on cue, the front door behind her swung open as two young fouls screamed out, “We’re hoooome!!”
Applebloom turned around on her couch and hung a leg over the back edge, “Hey, kids. How was school?”
The colt, a few inches taller than his sister replied, “Meh, same old same old.” He trotted to his room down the nearby hall. A loud thump followed the closing door as the colt carelessly dropped his saddlebag to the floor.
The filly ran from the door, dropped her own bags on the living room floor, and jumped up onto the couch next to her mother. She jumped up and down constantly as she nearly yelled, “Oh-oh-oh, Mommy, guess what I did today, guess!”
Applebloom had no idea at all, but she put her hoof to her chin and narrowed her brows so as to look as if seriously pondering the most important question ever. She even hummed to herself before making a guess, “Did you make a volcano.”
The filly giggled. Everything she said seemed to come with a shout of excitement, “Nope!”
“Did you learn about crystal apples?”
“Warmer!”
“Did you learn about crystal grapes?”
The filly shook her head slowly, “Nnnnnope!”
“Al’right. I give up. What did you learn today?”
“Family trees!”
“Family trees?”
“Yeah! It was cool because I got awesome family members like you, and daddy, and aunt Applejack, and uncle Mac, all my cousins and um…um…” Her brows narrowed and her vision lost focus on what ever she was looking at. She stared into space, obviously thinking.
After a few seconds, she snapped out of it and said, “Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you. Um, mom, who’re my grandparents?”
Applebloom put her hoof to her chin, the gesture more legitimate this time. “Well, there’s Granny Smith, no wait, that’s my granny. So yours would be… um…”
Who… the hell are my parents?! The idea wasn’t just odd, it was wrong. Everypony had a parent, they simply wouldn’t exist without one; they had to exist. Applebloom racked through her brain, searching for any information what so ever on her parents. Even after several seconds, nothing came. Her family had always been her sister, her brother, and her grandmother, but what about her parents.
Worse yet, why am I just now realizing this? Why did this never cross her mind? Not once did she find the absence of parents odd at all any time before in her life. Looking through her youngest memories, it seemed more and more like she’d never seen her parents at all. Applebloom grew up without any parents, thinking it as a normal part of life. It just, never crossed her mind till now.
Applebloom dragged herself back to reality and found her filly still sitting on her haunches, waiting patiently for an answer. Applebloom had to say something. “I think they lived in Las Pegasus, so I never visited them.” The filly dropped her ears and lost eye contact, clearly saddened by the disappointing answer. Applebloom pulled her filly in for a light hug. “Hey, don’t worry, I’ll dig up some old records, and we can both learn a thing or two, alright.”
Applebloom eased her hug. The filly’s ears erected again. “Alright mommy.” The filly jumped down and ran off to play.
Applebloom continued to sit on her couch and ponder the disturbing thought.
Why don’t I know who my parents are?
***
The train whistled and a conductor called out, “Last Call! All Aboard!!”, signaling that only seconds remain before the train departed from Quarts Train Station. Applebloom sat alone in her seat, already on board, and prepared to leave her home in the crystal empire. The thought of parents swam through her mind for the rest of the week. Now that Saturday morning had finally come around, she was determined to take the time and opportunity to find some answers. Leaving her foals at home the entire weekend with her husband did bring a little worry, but she had faith. That and her friend promised to check up on him and keep and extra eye on the house. It was going to be alright. Worse-case scenario, Applebloom would come back to find a mess and would have to supervise everypony cleaning it up. It was all going to be just fine.
Applebloom looked out at the shinning providence, turning her mind from the worries of home back to her task at hoof. The train was leaving for her hope town, Ponyville. It seemed a bit foalish to believe her big brother had all the answers and could solve any problem, but at the moment, she had no other leads.
Applebloom and her sister, Applejack, left Sweet Apple Acres to pursue their own dreams outside of Ponyville, but her brother, Macintosh, or Big Mac, had stayed at the farm and continued to buck apple to this day. Before leaving, Applebloom though to herself that maybe it’d be a good idea to stay for the day and help out on the farm, for old times sake.
Lost in thought, Applebloom neither heard nor felt any other indication of the departing train until it lurched forward and actually departed. Within a minute, the train had gathered significant speed and forced its way through the giant magical bubble surrounding the city. Instantaneously, Applebloom felt the cold arctic air fill the train cart through the filters. She reached under her seat for the convenient blanket put there for the passengers for just such an occasion.
It was cheap, wool blanket, but it was thick and kept her warm. Applebloom snuggled with herself, ready to simply sleep off the next few hours. A few minutes later, a train attendant walked by with a cart, selling hot chocolate. Applebloom welcomed the sigh and reached over for her saddle purse. She traded a few bits for the warm, chocolately beverage and snuggled herself again onto the seat, sipping her beverage and warming up herself form the inside. After finishing her drink, she took that relaxing nap.
***
Feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Applebloom awoke to the train’s whistle. Her time was spent dreamless and felt only minutes. In fact, the only evidence around her that time did pass was the position of the sun. It now hung above her, having moved many degrees since last she checked. Applebloom stowed away the blanket, grabbed her saddle purse and left the train onto Ponyville Station.
Ponyville was the town Applebloom grew up in. She knew every building and alleyway, every road, main or dirt, and every shortcut. She could find her way from here to the farm she grew up at blindfolded. Applebloom had thought about actually doing it, but the swimming through crowds of ponies would have made that simply impossible.
As Applebloom made her way through the crowed, she added to the blurred, ambient background nose with her own exchanges of “excuse me”, “pardon me”, “sorry about that” and so forth. Finally breaking through the crowed, she found herself in the market square. It was a large part of Ponyville and a place Applebloom knew well, but the many slight differences gave her a disturbing aura of unwelcomed change. As she walked through the market, Applebloom turned left and right, remembering were everything used to be and imagining it still here.
There, Applejack sold her families apples every week. Over there, a pony would sell many flowers, some local, some exotic, some decorative, and some edible. Over there was an odd pony who had a knack to sell just about anything. All the time, he’d get his hooves on some new plant, and enchanted artifact, or a gismo of sorts.
As Applebloom left the interior of town, the crowed stretched thinner and thinner. After a few more minutes, she found herself on the familiar dirt road home. It would be another quarter mile till she found the walkway to her house and the large sign with “Sweet Apple Acres” written on it.
It been years since she’d seen her big brother, and Applebloom couldn’t wait to make the surprise visit.
***
Applebloom trotted down the familiar dirt road, past the familiar sign to the left and a familiar barn to the right, to a familiar farm house. As she looked around, she noticed not everything was exactly as she left. She didn’t expect her old home to stay exactly the same, but the subtle changes gave her a bad vibe.
The barn had a collapsed roof. Its red paint seemed years overdue for replace, as it now faded behind uncontrolled walls of vines. One of the large doors had fallen from its hinges and now simply leaned on the barn. Equipment of all kinds littered the yard. Even Big Mac’s favorite plow just sat there, rusting out in the open. Granny Smith’s garden of flowers was now nothing more than a collection of weeds and overgrown grass.
The house was not in much better condition. The paint faded from years without maintenance. Dandelions and other weeds sprouted everywhere in the beaten dirt around and in front of the house. Even one of the second-floor windows, Applebloom’s window, was broken and replaced only with a patchwork of wooden boards and nails.
Everything around her was supposed to bring back fond memories from her foalhood, but now it only brought concern and an unusual level of caution for the area around her, her old home. It was supposed to be a happy place, what happened here?
Applebloom put her questions aside, confident she was close to the very pony who could tell her. She stepped up to the dying door. She lifted a hoof, but it just shook in the air for a few seconds, hesitant to knock.
Why am I hesitating? Here of all places. I shouldn’t even feel the need to knock.
Applebloom swallowed her breath and made her presence known, slowly rapping her hooves on the door and waited patiently for some kind, any kind of response. She waited, and waited, but as seconds turned to long minutes, fears turned to reality.
“Nopony’s home,” Applebloom whispered to herself, “I guess I’ll just head to town, somepony’s got to know were you went big brother.” She turned around, loosely holding her head and keeping it only inches from the ground. After only a few steps, the sound of old creaking hinges helped Applebloom to pull her head from her pits of sorrow. She turned around to see the door now partially open.
An unmistakable red stallion held the door open, “Applebloom, is that you?”
Applebloom turned around and rushed to her brother. She wrapped her hooves around his large neck, pushing the door open and nearly tackling him to the floor. “Big Mac, I’ve missed you, how’ve you been?!”
Mac returned the hug with a hoof before pulling his sister off him. He was unable to make eye contact with her, ashamed it seemed. “You should’ve told me you were coming over ahead of time.” He nervously rubbed one foreleg with the other, “You kinda caught me off guard.”
Applebloom tried to look at her brother in the face, but he seemed eager to hide it. A long, unkempt, and partially graying mane shielded much of his face from her view. “Big Mac, what happened here, the farm, everything? Where’s Granny Smith?”
“She’s at a retirement home.”
“Big Mac, I thought me and my sister told you not to when we left. You promised you’d take care of her. You promised you’d take care of everything, like you always do.”
“Yeah?! Well, things change!!”
Applebloom flinched and took a step back from her brother. This was so unusual, he was never this aggressive.
Mac sighed before continuing, “I don’t have time to take care of her, at least there somepony will.”
“If you needed help, you should’ve called Applejack or even me. Didn’t you get farm hooves to help you out?”
“I can’t afford any; the caravans already cost too much just to ship and sell the apples. I’ve already given up on my own dreams so that you and your sister could leave this farm and pursue your owns. I’ll be damned if I ever ask either you to do the same just ‘cuz I can’t move my stubborn flank fast enough.”
Applebloom didn’t respond. What could she even say? She looked around the decaying house. I was even worse than the outside. Everything was covered in dust and ruined to some degree. Paint peeled from the walls and even parts of the wall itself had fallen out. The painting and photos along the walls and shelves still portrayed happy families and warm summer, but they all seemed like impossible, paradox ideas against the cold, ruined world around them. Books along the shelves held books left untouched for years, now collecting a large layer of dust. The carpets were torn in various places and stained in others.
Mac took her attention from the small wasteland she called her home, “So what is it you’re here for anyway? I don’t think you came all the way from the Crystal Providence just to say ‘Hi’.”
“Well… I was wondering… who we’re our parents; I don’t remember them at all.”
Big Mac snapped his head forward, finally peaking through his mane and making eye contact with wide and surprised eyes. It only lasted a second before he returned his attention to the floor. “J-just forget about it. You’re too young.”
“Big Mac, I have two foals of my own, I’m not a little filly anymore.”
Mac finally, but slowly, pulled his head back up and sincerely looked at his sister. He sighed once again before saying, “Sorry, no matter how much time goes by, you’re always that little yellow filly, running around town ‘Crusading’ all the time, remember? Heh, but you’re right, now matter what I think, the fact is you’re not that little filly anymore.” He swung his head back, indicating the kitchen behind him, “C’mon in, you deserve to know everything.”
Applebloom closed the door behind her and followed her brother into the kitchen. The kitchen was even worse than the living room. Old dishes pilled onto the sink. Stains of every kind could be found everywhere. They walked past the kitchen and into the dinning room. There, the dinning room table had all manners of cutlery messes and leftovers, molding food here, and dirty dishes there.
Mac put himself under the table, and with grunting and an unusual show of effort, he picked the side of the table up, letting gravity pull everything off on onto the floor on the opposite side. After setting the table back down, he picked up a few old chairs from the floor, one for Applebloom and one for himself.
They both took their seats. Applebloom felt disgusted, not with her brother or the farmhouse, but with herself. How could she not know this was happening? How could she not help out? She was well aware Big Mac’s stubborn and prideful nature, but this was ridiculous. She should’ve known better than to let one stallion run such a large farm of his own.
Mac pulled Applebloom from her runaway thoughts and began, “Before I say anything, I want you to know nothing was your fault. Nothing. Don’t ever, ever blame yourself for what happened, al’right?”
“Al’right.”
“Promise me, Applebloom.”
“What?” Applebloom was a little shocked by the odd request.
“Promise me you’ll never, ever think any of this is your fault.”
“I…” Applebloom was still taken back a little. How bad was it? What could’ve possibly happened? “I promise.”
“Ok…” Mac took one last moment to collect his thoughts….
It all started when mom was pregnant with you, sis.
Ever considered the age difference between you, me and your sister? You’re nineteen years younger than me and seventeen younger than Applejack. This is why I made you take that promise; you’re an unwanted accident. Don’t get me wrong, none of us ever thought less of you because of it. Mom loved you maybe a little more than the rest of us, but dad…
…Dad was different story. He hated you, just plainly hated you, even before you were born. Heck, he wasn’t even there to see it; I had to help mom bring you into this world. He never thought of you as a pony, let alone his own daughter. It’s just, he just turned into that, that hollow jar of hate. He was looking forwards to seeing me and Applejack move out and a long retirement, but now he had a new mouth to feed. He thought of you as just a dream smasher. He blames you for ruining everything with his life.
We all knew it was there, but we kinda just ignored it. He stopped helping mom at our farm and got a construction job at the other side of town. He worked all day, and only came home to sleep. He’d wake up before anypony else, worked, came back after we were all asleep, and it all start over again, day in and day out. He loved mom, and he wasn’t going to just leave her. Still, after a few weeks, things just got worse. He started drinking, he started getting in trouble with the local guard. For mom’s sake, he’d never lay a hoof on any of us, not even you. So he just kept digging a hole into himself with the hate and depression. It wasn’t long before that hole started to become his grave.
Me an’ Applejack were cleaning the house, you were young, just weeks old, still feeding off of mama. It started out like an ordinary day, doing farm chores, bucking apples, that kind of thing, but I’ll never forget that evening….
***
A mare lay atop the soft living room carpet, in front of the warm, blazing fireplace of her farmstead home. Old as it may be, the house was a source of pride for her. She inherited it and the farm from her mother. Books, scratches, portraits, and damages were all valuable to her. Whether by destruction for addition, every detail of her house brought an unparalleled uniqueness and often a few memories. She wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Well, maybe one thing. As the mare relaxed by the fire, a warm blanket and her open book, a small, yellow buddle of joy enjoyed a natural evening meal. Every minute, the mare would look up from her book, lift her blanket and inspect her crotch, as if to check that her newest foal was still there by her side, safe from the world. The foal slowly, but endlessly sucked and bit of the pink teat, sipping the sweet milk from her mother. It hurt bit, but not like real pain at all. It was assuring, really, like another sense to tell her the foal is still well and by her side. The mother loved her foal no matter what anypony else would think, not even her ignorant husband.
Loud, thunderous bangs filled the still farmhouse. Without looking or getting up from her place, the mother alright knew just who it was.
“Applejack, come here please!” She called out.
Light stomping could herd in the other rooms as the young, orange mare raced to her mother’s side, “Yes mama,” she replied, “What is it?”
The mother pulled her blanket off her, and slowly pulled the foal from her source of drink. The foal immediately started to whine. The mother quickly swaddled the foal in the old blanket, gently rubbing the soft tummy and whispering “Shh shh shh”. In mere seconds, the foal was calm and ready to sleep.
She lifted the swaddled foal within her muzzle and gave it to Applejack, “Take care of her; you know how your father is.”
“MmHmm,” was the only reply available now that Applejack’s muzzle was more concerned with holding a foal than forming any speech. She quickly left the room and fled to the kitchen, careful not to swing the foal too much.
As Applejack left, the knocking on the door sounded again, this time louder and more violent. The mother closed her book ad kicked it aside before getting up to answer the door for her idiot husband. To nopony’s surprise, his condition was less than formal. His short-cut mane was messy, greasy, ragged, and flung every-which-way. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused, held up by tired, dark rings. He smelled of filth, dirt, and booze, giving little mystery as to the contents of the unmarked bottle floating around him within a magic aura.
Neither pony was all to happy to see the other. No even greeting’s were exchanged; once it was a show that the two loved and understood each other so much that none were needed, but now it was the claws of hate reaching just beyond the cages held within each of them. Instead, the mare said, with an unamused look, “Lose you keys again?”
“Shut up…” was the stallion’s simple response. His voice was slurred and aggravated, giving hint that he might be more delusional that his appearance foretold. He forced his was inside, pushing the mare.
Now that he was inside, the mare closed the door behind him. She said, “Well you’re home early. Anything happen?”
The stallion grunted and took another swing of his bottle before saying, “Nothin’ really. We got done with the roof early, so boss said we can go home.” He turned his head side to side, as if looking for something. “The little shit better not wake me up again.”
The mare’s brows angled in frustration, “That little shit is our daughter whether you like it or not.”
The stallion returned the gesture, “I never wanted her and you know it. You should’ve told me you forgot the pill.”
The mare mumbled to herself, “I did tell you not to go in that way…”
The stallion turned his attention to his wife. He stepped closer and lowered his head, effectively glaring at her, “What did you say?”
The mare paused for a second before slamming her hoof on the floor and shouting, “I said it’s a big surprise you made anything with that limp little dick of yours!”
The stallion smashed his forehead on the mare in a sudden fit of rage. ”Limp Little Dick?!” he cried out as his fell from the impact unto the floor. “I’ll show you a limp little dick!” His horn glowed as latched onto his wife’s hooves with an arcane grip. The mare was forced on her back, but she fought away at her husband none the less. The struggling and the booze-poisoned brain made it difficult for the stallion to keep multiple grips on the mare.
The stallion stepped forward, ready to prove his point, only to be bucked in the muzzle by his wife. The impact caused him to lose what little focus he had and drop both the spell and his bottle. The bottle flew across the room, not breaking, but still spilling some of the stiff drink it held. The stallion returned his attention to his wife, now angrier than ever.
The mare tried to flip herself around and get up, but the stallion reactivated his magic, this time turning the aura to surround the mare’s throat. The spell squeezed tight and constricted breathing. The mare gasped and wheezed, trying to bring precious air into her lungs.
The stallion violently reared up, and as he did, the mare within his grasp was lifted completely off the ground by her throat. He spun a little on his rear legs, pulling the mare to the side, and when he dropped back down on all fours, he slammed the mare into the wall just above the fireplace. The mare’s head smashed and shook a small wooden shelf, knocking over small portraits and sending small, delicate decorations to their dooms via shattering against the floor. Despite any injury, the mare continued to thrash and resist the attack, all the while keeping herself from swinging too much les her tail becomes ablaze by the still active fire.
The mare could do little while the stallion refocused his magic and forced her rear legs apart, but the stallion did not take advantage of her as he previously intended. After one quick glace at her equine breasts, he looked back into her face. “You were just feeding her, weren’t you?”
The mare made no response as she continued to struggle for breath.
”Weren’t you?!!” The stallion yelled.
After a few seconds of snatching and grasping for air, the mare replied, her voice harsh and barely audible, “D-don’t you dare… t-touch her.”
“Touch her? … heheehee…” The stallion started to giggle.
He took one deep breath and his giggled turned to full, maniacal laughter, “HAHaahahaa! Touch her?! I bucking made it; I get to do whatever I want with it! Hahaa, that thing is as much mine as my mane; if I don’t like it, I should just get rid of it!” His disturbing laughter died down, “Hehehee, You know, why haven’t I thought of this before?”
The stallion released his wife from his magical grip, but not before throwing her clear across the room. She landed with a busing thud, but now that her windpipe was unobstructed, she could talk much more clearly now. “Leave her out of this. She’s got nothing to do with this.”
The stallion smiled almost ear to ear as he nearly stumbled while walking a little closer to the mare. “Oh, but that’s were your wrong dreary; little shit’s got everything to do with this. But you don’t have to worry anymore, honey, I’ll make things just he way they’ve been before.”
The station walked without balance towards the kitchen, picking up his bottle within an arcane glow in the process. “So where is little shit anyway?” he called out as he opened to door.
To his surprise, the search was over quicker than I begun. In the far end of the kitchen, his daughter held the little thing in a blanket. Her body shivered and her eyes swelled, almost on the verge of tears. And to the stallions surprise as well, his red-coated sun was here to, but he did not shiver in fear like his sister. Instead, he immediately got up and marched to the stallion till their muzzles were only inches apart. His brows were angled, and furious.
“Just walk away, dad,” Macintosh said, “You’re drunk; don’t let this get any worse than it already is.”
“Well looks who’s telling who what to do. Is it that day already? The day when the boy things he’s all grown up, and needs his flank-kicked to remember his place in this house, is that it boy?!”
Both ponies moved close to each other, closing the gap between them and pushing each other muzzle to muzzle. They said nothing for several long seconds. The silence was only broken by the sound of the stallions rapidly charging horn. Mac had little time to think, let alone react. The spell dispersed in a heavy wave of force, sending Mac flying across the room, smashing into one of the upper cabinets with his back. He held his screams between clenched teeth as wooden bits, plates, cups, and all matter of dishes scattered unto and littered the kitchen floor. Gravity took no delay in bringing his body back down, but he made no further movements, voluntary or otherwise.
The stallion returned his attention to both is frightened daughters. He reached out with his magic and grabbed the foal. Applejack sat on her haunches, holding her infant sister with both forelegs and her muzzle, desperate to keep her safe from her own father.
“Applejack,” The stallion called out, “Let go of it!”
They tugged away at he foal for several seconds; Applejack held on as best she could, but her father’s drunken magic was stronger than her grip. The foal slid out of her blanket, away from her sister’s guard. As the foal slid away, Applejack tried to rush out and reach for her again, but she fell to the ground, unable to move. Her entire body glowed in magic and all her muscles felt like heavy lead.
Applejack could only watch as the wailing foal floated to the stallion’s hooves. He placed her on the ground and used his magic to pull a large kitchen knife out of a nearby draw. He lifted the life high above. His eyes looked so eager, so ready, like this was the best moment of his life. He was happy about what he was going to do. He found joy in murdering his foal daughter.
Time seemed to painfully slow down for this very moment.
I’ll make everything the way it was before; I’ll have my happy family back, without you…
...
NOOOOOO!!!!
Author's Note
Got one more chapter...
Hope you enjoyed so far...