The Left Forehoof

by JackobolTrades

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Sad
Length: 1305

Dissociative identity disorder. A fable to some, a joke to others, and tragedy to the forgotten mind: That of the dissociated identity.

Ponies only have one brain, and one mind, one personality. That is what the common pony will tell you. Psychologists will say that ponies have multiple personalities based on the social situations, but retain the one brain and one mind.

They say that dissociative identity disorder is a myth, that ponies don't have the capacity to house more than one mind.

But I know better.

Ponies also say that they have complete control over their bodies. Mind over matter, especially when it comes to magic. Physicians and biologists will tell you that chemical reactions uncontrolled by the pony's mind that nopony can stop unless something interferes with those processes.

They say that alien hoof syndrome is just damage to synapses and nerves, that nothing really consciously controlling the errant hoof.

But I know better.

This is my story. The story of his left forehoof.

(Story idea sounded better in my head. I'll update it rarely.)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-05-07 01:20:03 UTC

I don't exist.

I don't exist.

At least, not according to the psychologists, psychiatrists and physicians. I've come to hate the letter 'p' when it starts a word.

"Just a nervous twitch." They call me. "A slow synapse."

The blackouts he has are harder for them to explain. Some say that he must be allergic to something, others say that he has narcolepsy and sleep walks.

But no.

It's me.

I've always been here. Watching, following, keeping up appearances.

But sometimes I slip.

I drop something that I was holding, or I forget to time my spot in the walking cycle properly and he trips. Sometimes he gets hurt because of me. I don't like it when that happens, because he blames himself.

But it's my fault.

I try to make it up to him when it's my turn, but it's so hard. He doesn't realize that he needs to help me walk.

I try to hide it, or pass it off as having a numb or hurt hoof. Enough ponies believe me that I haven't been caught yet.

Until her.

He was doing his job, as he always does, and I was helping. I hate his job. Construction work. I always have to keep his balance, or keep something in place long enough for him to hammer it into place. It's a hard job to do with only three hooves, sometimes.

He'd just gotten done repairing a hole in her balcony. He hears from his competitors that every time it breaks, she has a different company repair it, to give her empirical data on the most efficient construction and repair ponies.

She says that it's just to meet new ponies, though.

I don't have ears or eyes, but I am connected to his brain. I have his ears and eyes.

She was beautiful.

The setting sun basked her face in an orange glow, teasing long shadows from her fur, feathers, and horn, and adding a curious glint to her eyes. Purple, so many shades of purple that neither of us had names for.

"Hello, Hammer Hoof." I hate his name, because sometimes it fits so well. "Done already?"

"Ah, hello Miss Sparkle. Yes, I patched to hole that Rainbow Dash made. Funny thing, I think she has a crush on the construction ponies, because she seems to be the cause of a lot of our work in this town."

She chuckled awkwardly. I twitched, easily holding back the urge to paw the ground. She wouldn't want to hear about how destructive her friend could be, I would have told him could we talk.

"Well, that's an interesting thought. Speaking of work, though, thank you so much for getting this done so quickly."

He chuckled, and I could feel him trying to lift me to wave off her thanks. I complied, waving lightly.

"It's nothing, just had to clean a few edges and patch the wood. Luckily, Rainbow didn't break any support struts this time."

"I suppose. Say, would you like to come in for some tea?"

Yes, I wanted to say. I'd love to.

"Nah." He said. "I've got another job to get to. A couple of fillies broke a stair railing over at Carousel Boutique." I hate that place.

"Ah, those girls. Well, I won't keep you waiting, then."

They bid each other goodbye, and he started walking. I helped him, reluctantly. He loves Carousel Boutique.

Or rather, the mare that lives there.

"Hey, uh, Hammer Hoof? Are you alright?" She called to him.

"Hm?" He grunted, looking back at her. "Yeah, I feel fine, why?"

"Well, you look like you're limping a bit. Did you hit your hoof with your hammer?"

No, he didn't.

"Oh, yeah, I probably just scratched it with my hammer. I hardly even noticed it."

"Ah. Well, I hope it gets better quickly!"

"Yeah, sure. Stupid hoof, don't go numb on me now." He muttered to me as he walked.

Carousel Boutique was reached in a few minutes, and he flirted with the owner of the shop before getting to work.

We repaired the banister while the craftsmare who ran the store worked on her dresses. Of course, he couldn't leave without popping in.

"Hey Rarity!" He called into the workroom.

Rarity looked over her red glasses perched on the end of her snow white snout at him. "Ah, Hammer Hoof. You've finished the railing?"

"Yep! It just needs a good few layers of paint and it'll be done."

"Oh, dear, I forgot about the paint job. I don't suppose that you can do that, too?"

"Well, I could, but that wasn't in the original order." He smirked to himself. "But I know exactly you can pay me for it!"

"Why, Mister Hoof..." I hate it when ponies call him that. "I do hope you're not insinuating what I think you are."

"I- What? No! Well, kind of. How about you let me take you out on a date after I paint the rail?"

Please don't. I silently begged.

Rarity seemed to be considering the idea.

I'll make him look silly! I don't want you to think bad of him! Okay, that was a small lie. I just didn't want him to start courting Rarity. She wasn't the one for us.

"Well, I suppose I could do that. You are a rather dashing stallion. Just... clean up a bit before you take me out, alright?"

"Of course! I'll pick you up at sundown."

"See you then, darling."

I spent that date fuming. I did as he wanted, of course. I didn't drop a glass or crush a bread roll.

They made small talk. They were both very awkward. They silently began to eat their food when it came.

Halfway through the meal, I felt the change.

I was awake.

I could talk.

I could taste and smell and feel.

I could feel everything except his left hoof.

"Hoof, darling, are you alright? You look as though you've seen a ghost."

"Uh-" I made him cough. "Yeah. Hi- ...My hoof just went a bit numb." I made him say.

I didn't want to do this.

She wasn't the one for us.

But he was the one he chose.

I hate her.

I hate that night.

The night where I was a complete gentlestallion.

The night where my first kiss was stolen by Rarity. A kiss on his cheek, but my first one, nonetheless.

I used his right hoof to write in his diary that night, the one that the doctors told him to keep. He called it a journal, but it was a diary.

Finally went on that date with Rarity, I made him write. My left hoof went numb halfway through, but it went off without a hitch. I even got a kiss on the cheek, and she said that she'd like to do it again!

Won't he be jealous when he reads that, I thought. A kiss from Rarity, and he couldn't even remember it.

I also repaired Twilight's balcony today, I forced him to go on. She invited me in for tea, but I wanted to see Rarity as quickly as possible. I couldn't help but feel that the setting sun made her look beautiful

I shouldn't have had him write that. He doesn't think that she is beautiful.

I hate him.

But he is mine, and I love him.

That is why I finished his date for him, why I got him his kiss.

This is his life, not mine. I just make it harder, even when I don't want to.

It felt good to finally give him something good, something other than trouble.

I gave him a marefriend.

And though I hate her, he loves her. That is enough for me.

If I tell myself that enough, maybe it will be true someday.