Where i started to where i ended up.
Howdy! My name’s Jon Bucker. I live on the outskirts of Ponyville, in a small house with my mom, Garden Grace, and my dad, Rocky Spring. Oddly enough, we don’t share the same last names, but that’s just how it’s always been in my family. As far back as it can go there’s always been one family group that didn’t share the same last name, but we like to think it’s just what makes us more special. We’re all earth ponies. And come from a long line of them as well. We’re more of a poor family, but we’ve learned to love what we had, not what we wanted. I don’t really have many friends. Actually, I only have two: Applejack, and her brother, Big Macintosh.
Applejack and Big Macintosh were pretty important to me growing up. I met them through my dad; making a living by working and helping out around their apple farm. They've really helped us through some pretty tough times. They were just like family to me. Me and Applejack have known one another since we were babies. Even though Applejack is a couple years older than me, and we’re not related, she’s always treated me like a little brother. We all looked and respected each other as siblings so that's how its always been. It helped a lot to with the feeling of being an only child, Applejack and Big Mac were always there for me. I had at least two ponies to go to whenever things got hard.
When Applejack returned from Manehattan and got her cutie mark, I will admit I got a bit jealous; even when I reached her age when she got hers nothing happened. I had tried everything I could think of to get one, but it never worked, and with everyone saying 'it will happen when its meant to' I decided to listen and wait...
One day, when I was at the farm, my dad was about to go out to the orchard, I had asked him if I could come with him. He was a bit surprised that I didn’t want to stay around the farm with Applejack and Big Mac, but he smiled and invited me along.
As I watched my dad buck apples, I paid attention to his technique, and how you keep your back legs straight and your hooves flat and firm as you kick. After watching him i asked him if i could give it a go. This caught him off gaurd and he didn't seem to sure i'd be able to. But he encouraged me to do my best with a fatherly smile.
I bucked one, two. After a few more tries, I was bucking almost as well as him. He couldn’t believe how such a young colt could apple buck that well. After work that day, he took me to the pony hospital and got me examined. It turns out I was born with unusually strong hind legs, but what the doctors couldn’t figure out is how I got them. They couldn’t figure out whether I got it from my dad’s side of the family or my mom’s being that neither family's genetics had it. All they could tell my dad was that it was a gift.
Once I really got to the realization of how strong my legs really were, I was out in the apple fields bucking almost every day. I even had competitions with Applejack and Big Mac. I was sure that my cutie mark would have something to do with apple bucking. But no matter how hard I tried and how many different ways I did it, nothing ever happened, so I stopped apple bucking for awhile and tried doing other work around the farm. I tried everything possible but still nothing happened and i just started giving up.
I was alone in my room one night, feeling discouraged. The question always struck me. 'Why should ah keep apple bucking and helping when it’s not doing anything for me?' and that sat with me. After awhile I started doing just that. I stopped working with my dad, I stopped helping out around the farm and offering my help, and I just felt empty. I didn’t know what else to do; I was so certain that apple bucking was my talent, but when nothing happened, I lost hope.
One day, I was walking down the road to Sweet Apple Acres, and was just going down one of the hills when I heard a pony yell for help. I turned and saw a wagon with groceries in it, and the pony who yelled was an old mare that my mom knew who had very little when it came to food. I knew how much that wagon must have meant so I instantly jumped in the way and held up my hind-legs to stop it, once it hit, I slid, but thankfully I was able to stop it without damaging anything.
She thanked me greatly, she said that was her only means of food for the week. That triggered something in me, seeing how much it meant to her that I had helped, and the look she gave me . . .
I thought i gave up on stuff like this because it wasn't getting me anywhere, yet I acted without a second thought. It was like it was my nature.
Even though i didn't expect anything for me effort, i did it to make someone else's time easier. To go out of my way, do what i can, and walk in and away without expectations of an award. And that tugged on my heart. It gave me a very specific feeling that i never really took the time to notice before. Not only that, i didn't mind doing the work involved, whether it was easy or hard, i loved it.
Then i hit a self morel. Regardless, whether its my destiny or not I knew then what I needed to do. I didn't have a point so I made one. Who cares if it wasn't doing anyone for me, when i was doing it for someone else? Regardless of myself, What I love to do is work and help others in any way I can. By putting others first instead of myself, in a way puts me first in the same. It was like a fulfillment that could never be bought or asked for. I loved that, it drives me forward. And i’m not afraid of what harm may come my way, if someone needs help or a job to be done, its getting done. One way or another…
And then it happened. A light sparkle came from my flank and revealed a red apple with a brown stem, a green leaf, and crossed horseshoes. It was my cutie mark. I was instantly filled with joy and happiness. I thanked her for being the one that helped me realize my destiny, and then ran down to the farm and showed my dad and my mom who were visiting; they were so proud of me. Applejack and Big Mac were, too, and they all asked what it meant. They all started asking and thinking that it was because of my talent for apple bucking, but I knew it was more than that.
My cutie mark can mean one of two things. Most ponies think that, since I have unusually strong hind-legs, it represents my talent for apple bucking, but that’s only partially true. The apple with the crossed horseshoes represents not only my talent but me and my personality.
The apple represents me. I can have a hard exterior, but once somepony gets to know me, I’m full of flavor and life. After taking your first bite, you’re hooked.
And the crossed horseshoes mean two separate things as well. The right one means “Dependable” and “Trustworthy”, and my all-around love for doing hard work. And the left one means “Helpful” and “Caring”, for my compassion towards others and help no matter the cost; I’ll drop what I’m doing in an instant if it means helping someone. And all those together is what makes me, me.
After the initial excitement wore off, I did what I was doing before, working in the fields with my dad and helping around the farm and anywhere else it’s needed, but this time I was doing it for others not for my own self. And I didn’t seek recognition, knowing I helped whether others saw it or not was enough. I loved the Apple family and working on their farm; in a way, it felt peaceful to me. Bucking the red delicious trees alongside my dad and second family in so many ways felt right.
And we all lived happy like that . . .
About half a year later, I found my parents packing our wagon with their things. “Where are you goin?” I asked them
They looked at each other with sorrow. Then my mother stepped forward and spoke with her strong, yet soothing tone. “Sweetie, Applejack and Big Macintosh’s dad has caught the beginning of an unknown disease, and the only thing that will cure him is too far away; we can’t take a train where we’re going.” she said.
“Can I go with you?” I asked by my nature.
My mother shook her head. “I’m sorry, hun, but it’s too dangerous. We want you to be safe, and because we don’t know long we’ll be, you’re going to be staying with your grandparents in Manehattan tell we get back.” she said, but as a mother, it was clear she didn’t like the idea of leaving her child.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Can’t ah stay with the Apples?” I said.
My dad stopped loading the wagon and walked up to me, speaking with his rough, firm, yet soft and warm tone. “Son, you must understand. You staying with them only gives them another thing to worry about. And I’m not saying you’re something to worry about, it just make it easier on them. Okay?” he said.
“Okay,” I said, disappointingly. I didn’t argue with him. I knew what he meant. I just had to accept what was going to happen, even for my age.
As they were just about to leave, my dad’s friend Solstice came by. He was a pegasus with a radiant, dark, multicolor mane, he was my dad’s oldest friend. He was going to escort me to my grandparent’s house.
After saying goodbye to my mom and dad, I asked if we could stop by Sweet Apple Acres so I could say goodbye to them, as well. He didn't see a problem with that. I jumped on his back, and he flew me over.
Once we landed, Solstice stayed back as I walked up and knocked on their door. Applejack answered it. At first she looked normal, but the second she saw me she burst and started crying as she hugged me without word. I looked over her shoulder to Big Mac, who shared a similar look to my parents before. “Pa’s real sick, Jon, he might not make it,” Applejack said as she sobbed over my shoulder.
I hugged her back, but broke it to look her in the eyes. “Don’t say that, my parents are going to get him medicine. He’ll be right as rain when they get back,” I said
“Promise…?” she asked, sniffling.
I smiled weakly. “Promise.” I said, hugging her again.
I let go and walked over to Big Mac. He didn’t say anything, but I gave him a brotherly hug. “Wait, if yer parents are leavin, then what about you?” Applejack asked, walking up from behind us.
“I’m going to stay with my grandparents in Manehatten,” I said, looking to the floor.
Applejack looked destroyed by that. “But ya can’t leave, this is your home,” Big Macintosh spoke.
This wasn’t making it any easier on me, so I opened up to the both of them for a hug goodbye. “Its what’s best,” I said through the embrace. “But ah’m makin this promise to the two of ya, ah will be back.”
Then their mother entered to find all of us in a group hug. She smiled weakly as it ended and I walked up to her and gave her one as well. “Goodbye Misses Apple, give Mister Apple my word, will you, please?” I asked
She was nearly in tears but kept her composure. “Of course ah will, Jon, you take care now. We’ll be waitin fer you ta get back.” she said in a smooth and caring tone.
After that, I went back outside to Solstice, and we left for the train station.
I was a bit worried when we were on the train, as I watched Ponyville slowly disappear from sight. I never really knew my grandparents that well other from them being earth ponies. All I knew about my grandmother is that her name is Squeeze, and that she owned her own little store. And all I knew about my grandfather was that his name was Iron Hoof and that he owned his own forge, he even makes armor for the Canterlot Royal Guards. Which was cool, but the uncertainty of when I was going to be able to come home haunted me.
When I arrived at their house, they welcomed me with open arms. They gave me my own room and they fed and loved me and I grew fond of them really quick, and that was to be my new home…
I never really liked living there. It wasn’t my grandparents; it was just being in Manehattan in general. I never had or made any friends; everyone was just to different from me. It’s not that I wasn’t willing to look past that, my father fought me better then that. it’s that they weren’t. They always mocked and criticized, even beat me at times and saying things like “I didn’t fit in” but they right. I didn’t fit in, I was the only country pony with an accent for miles. I wasn’t meant to be in the city and walk the cobblestone streets; I was born to be on a farm and walk the rough dirt roads.
It took me a while to accept that I wouldn’t be going home anytime soon, and that, no matter how hard I tried, I would never be able to have friends there. Honestly, though? I didn't want them. If having friends meant surrounding myself with other ponies that would criticize me at every chance they got, then I was better off alone. I had to learn and do things on my own without anyone’s input, constantly disciplining myself right from wrong. But it was never easy, that was one of the things though I had to learn to live with, and accept. That was all I could do...
After a couple years of that, and hoping, and waiting for my parents to come get me, I received some news.
My grandparents sat me down in the living room and my grandmother spoke with regret in her eyes. I could tell there was something serious wrong. My grandmother spoke. “Jon Bucker, there's no easy way to say this, but...” She stopped mid-sentence; it was too painful for her to say. “You're staying with us for now on; your parents, they’ve passed...”
That devastated me. “Why? How?” I asked them through tear-filled eyes.
My grandfather walked over and sat down beside me and placed his large hoof on my shoulder. “While they were journeying through a forest, they were attack by a beast known as a Timberwolf; there were too many of them…” he said. He already had a deep voice, but it lowered even more the burden of carrying this fact.
It took me a long time to accept that they had passed, and the fact that no one was ever coming back for me, that's what really hurt. I loved them so much, and to know that I was never going to see them again… It destroyed every part of my being. I never even got to say a goodbye...
Over a what seemed like years, I managed to remotely accept it and move on; I couldn’t change it so that was what I had to do, and I knew that’s what they would have wanted, and I held them to that, and lived on...
As the years went by, I started feeling emptier and emptier. long story short I was a work horse without any work, and what i thought i put to rest wasn’t the case with my parents. Since there weren’t any apple trees, or any trees for that matter, my talent with my hind legs seemed pointless. And no one other than my grandparents ever wanted help with anything, so I had a lot of free time, and nothing to do with it but walk. Walking was one of my reliefs, id just pick a street with little action and walk. Letting my memories and thoughts go on in my head, it became a good habit.
I started helping my grandfather around his forge. It was good. We had pretty common customers with simple requests but more often we had really out of the ordinary and strange characters with even stranger abilities and looks. But the majority of them were pretty nice.
My grandfather taught me everything he knew, and after a while, I got pretty good at it. I could forge my own steal and everything. Once I was familiar with it, i made my own sword. I made it from a black metal known as Ebony. I spent a solid year on and off making it, hardening and tempering, heat treating, sharpening it to perfection. It was straight one sided black sword with a mat finish with an ivory handle that I carved. I carved my Cutie Mark in the center of the handle, and in the bottom left and right corners i carved smaller my parents Cutie Marks. My moms was a group of fruit carved and made to look like flowers, it was one of her hobbies. And my dads rock breaking water. It made it more meaningful to me.
I never spent that much time on a single thing ever before in my life, but i was proud my handiwork. My grandfather was astonished by it as well, but did a little extra one day.
On one of my birthday’s he had snuck my sword out of the house and took it to a Mage to have it enchanted. Now the blade will never dull and its sharpness is at its peak, nor brake and the metal will never whether or rust. It would last a lifetime and beyond.
When he returned it to me, he started teaching me how to wield it, he trained my eyes and body to sequence’s and movements, I actually really liked it. I even received some training from a lower class Royal Guard named Shining Armor. With him and my grandfather both teaching me that skill increased substantially over a period of time. Especially when I started making up my own style. I even got an offer to join them, they said with my skill and attitude, once I was older I could either be a Lunarian Guard or part of the Special Forces. Though I was thrilled by the offer i respectfully turned them down, it wasn't for me nor the life i wanted.
I did like doing it but that was only for sport sort of thing, never have I used against someone. The only time I’d use a blade in that manner is if it had to be done, but even then I don’t like the thought of taking a life. With that alone it just didn’t feel right to me if i were to do something like that. I’d also be braking some of my own morels. Besides, I wanted something that I could use my hind legs with, so they wouldn’t get weak from lack of use. Something that suited me. But no matter how hard I pushed myself, his forge couldn’t provide that. I still liked helping him but it didn’t feel right to be doing that every day when it’s not my only calling.
But I guess the feeling of not being able to buck I was just gonna have to give up on, or so I thought. One day, after helping my grandfather with what he needed, I stumbled upon an old gym at the far-end of the street. It wasn’t like the others; it wasn’t full of fancy equipment, it was more modern and old fashioned, which I liked. In one of the far back corners, there was a kicking bag set up, and that’s where it all started for me.
Every day, after helping my grandfather around the forge and training. I’d go there and start kicking the bag. Every time I was about to kick the bag, I’d picture it as a nice, big red delicious tree, which helped a lot. It was one of the only things besides helping my grandfather and sword fighting that gave me true joy and satisfaction, and it also helped with my will to apple buck. Over time, I increased in strength and stamina to the point where I had the heaviest and strongest bag they could find. It took two ponies just to hang, and I was bucking it as if it were nothing. Though it wasn’t exactly an apple tree in a field, something I longed for, it was all I had, and I made the best of it as with everything else in my life. And that was my life without much change for around ten years...
Despite my efforts, I think my grandparents realized how miserable I really was, and that no matter how hard they tried, and I tried, I would never fit in. But I never complained to them; they’d done too much for me, for me to even begin to complain. Besides, it wasn’t their fault that I was too different from their world. They’d done their best.
But that was all about to change.
After celebrating my eighteenth birthday, and just after opening my grandmother’s gift, my grandfather left the room and came back with an old dusty box. When I opened it, to my surprise it was my dad’s old station cowboy hat that I hadn’t seen since they left. I couldn’t believe it and even thought my eyes were deceiving me. I don’t know how my grandfather managed to get his hooves on it, but, honestly, I didn’t care; I was just happy to see it again. When he gave it to me he told me to “Go where my heart felt was right... and where it belonged” he said I was old enough and it was what my father would have wanted. I instantly knew what that meant and I packed up what things I had and my sword, hugged and thanked my grandparents for everything they did for me, and left on the first train back to ponyville.
The anticipation and excitement was killing me; I was so happy to finally be heading back to Ponyville. The first thing I did when I got there was I went to my old house, but after arriving, I realized I couldn’t really call it my house anymore... They had sold the home to another family and everything that was in it before was thrown out like garbage. It hurt a lot seeing my childhood, and all the memories I had with my parents, photos we shared thrown out; the only picture I had left of them was the one I took with me before I left. It stung me deep in my soul seeing that, but I knew there was still one place where memories lied. So I turned around and moved on, and headed towards Sweet Apple Acres.
As I was coming down the road to Sweet Apple Acres, I paced myself as I looked amongst the apple trees. I never thought I would be as happy as I was to see an apple tree again, to smell the sweet aroma of the apples. I didn’t rush myself one bit, and enjoyed the view, soaking it all up.
When I was coming up to farm I saw a golden mane, orange-furred pony standing in front of the barn, tying a hay bail. I instantly knew who that was; I stood under the archway and called out to Applejack. Her head shot up and she turned slowly. There was a moment of silence, then tears of joy filled both our eyes and she ran towards me, and we embraced.
I couldn’t explain what it felt like to see Applejack again, to finally be back where I belonged. “Ah know you’d come back, ah just knew it.” she said over my shoulder, shaking in her voice.
My sword and what little things i was carrying dropped the second I saw her. “Ah made a promise didn’t ah?” i said sort of jokingly though the tears, holding her tightly. Breath quivering.
She let go of me and turned to the house. “Mac? Big Mac! Come see who’s here.” She called
The doors of the farmhouse flew open at his sister's tone, he stood speechless with wide eyes when he saw me standing there. For the first time i saw my big brother shed tears and he ran up to hug me. “Ah missed you little brother.” he said over my shoulder.
“Ah’ve missed you two big guy, both of you.” I said over his.
He let me go and we wiped our eyes. Emotions were flaring but peace came with joy and gladness. “Come on inside, we got some catchin up ta do. grab yer things.” Applejack encouraged, her breath with still a bit shaky, but all of ours was.
I did what she aske and ran to gather my things, with my sword and bag on my back and flank they led me into the house and we did just that, for hours even. So much, yet so little had changed around the farm, but Applejack and Big Macintosh are exactly how I remembered them, and that is what meant the most to me. I even got to meet their new little sister, Applebloom, and their granny, Granny smith. They were delighted to see us reunited.
After I had settled in and I caught up with them a bit, Applejack started teasing me and saying that I probably wasn’t able to apple-buck anymore from being in the city for too long, saying I was a “city-slicker.” But I was more than eager to prove her wrong.
We lined up on the outskirts of an un-cleared field; The goal was: whoever bucked the most trees, and lasted the longest, won. I pulled my hat up to the tip of my mane-line, making sure it was secure, and after Applebloom yelled “Go!”, off we went.
When my hooves hit the wood of the apple tree, every memory I had when I was young flooded my mind, and I continued bucking like I had never bucked before. Even after Applejack and Big Mac gave up, I didn’t stop, nor did I even notice. After the first tree, it wasn’t a competition anymore for me, it was joy and happiness. Words couldn’t describe how great I was feeling; it felt so good to be able to apple-buck again, and to feel like I really fit in and belonged, to do one of the things I was born and loved to do. And I bucked like there wasn’t no tomorrow.
Later that night, after I had spent dinner with them, and after everyone had gone to bed, me and Applejack stayed up and talked in the dining room. “So Applejack, where are your parents? Ah haven’t seen them since ah arrived.” I asked curiously looking arou.
Her expression turned gloom with sorrow filled eyes. “Follow me and ah’ll show ya...”
We left the house and she took me down a grassy path that led to a deeper part of the fields. We came up to two old gravestones with her parent’s names on them; I then knew why I hadn’t seen them. We sat down in front of the gravestones and she explained everything that happened after I had left which started and ended with her in tears.
“Our ma died right after givin birth ta Applebloom, she handled me and big mac. But a third time of birth she couldn’t take. The last things she gave me was a kiss and her hat. Then ta make matters worse pa was still sick and getting worse. It spread to his heart, that’s what…” She was putting it bluntly to reduce pain up tell then.
It hurt hearing that, I considered and treated her parents like my own and was very close to them, it hurt a lot hearing that they were gone. “I know how you--” I tried to make an attempt in calming her down but she snapped at me.
“No! You don’t know how ah feel! How could ya’ll possibly understand that!? What happened to your parents anyway? They were supposed to get him MEDICEN!” her tears intensified at this point as she lashed out. “YOU PROMISED THEY’D HELP HIM! YOU SAID EVERYTHING WAS GONNA BE FINE ONCE THEY GOT BACK, BUT THEY NEVER DID JON!! THEY LEFT US AND HIM TO DIE! THEN AH HAD TA GO THROUGH THE YEARS WITHOUT ANY PARENTS AND RAIS A FILLY THAT AH HAD BRAKE TO HER THAT HER PARENTS WERE DEAD BECAUSE OF A FAULSE PROMISE!! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD THAT WAS!!!!!????????”
She was about to continue to lash out but I couldn’t hold myself but to burst out at her. “MY PARENTRS ARE DEAD APPLEJACK! THEIR DEAD!!!!!” I screamed at her with tears falling from my eyes. Her angered expression instantly dropped with her jaw as her eyes went wide. My teeth were clenched as I tried to take the pain, but I had to close my eyes and look away. “Their dead…” I said softly under the quivering of my own breath. It rest just came out. “They were slaughtered and torn to pieces by Timberwolves… there was nothin left but my dad’s hat. Ah lived everyday holding to the promise that they’d return for me, only to be told years later that they were eaten in the night and no one was coming for me… ah can’t begin to tell you how that made me feel…” I said
“You don’t have to…” She said. I paused and looked over to her, it was clear she regretted what she said. She smiled weakly holding back her sobs to the point neither of us could take it anymore and we embraced and cried and comforted one another, and mourned both our losses...
Once we had calmed down and regained our self’s, we thanked one another for letting each other talk without interruption, then we got up, wiped away our dry tears and walked back to the house. “So where are ya spendin the night?” Applejack asked as we approached the farmhouse.
I was straight with her. “Well, ah came to Ponyville only to find that my old house had been sold and everything thrown out like trash, so ah don’t really have anywhere else ta go.”
She looked at me with a loving smile. “Do you wanted to live at Sweet Apple Acres with the apple family?” she asked
“Ah couldn’t, ah don’t want to be a bourdon…” I said
“Oh pony feathers, there ain’t no way ya’ll could possibly be a burden. Besides, Blooms gotten pretty found of ya. Ah’d bet my last bit that she’s gonna wonna see you in the morning.” She walked up beside me and put an arm around my neck. “That make her a pretty happy filly.” She encouraged with another smile. Well… I wouldn’t want to make a filly upset. So I took her offer and she took me in and showed me to my home and room...
Now I live in the attic that has been made shift into a room, picking up where my father left off and working for applejack and the apple family and anywhere else its needed. I’ve grown comfortable with calling Applejack and Big Macintosh my older brother and sister, and to call them my family. And also my new little sister Applebloom. She can be quite the hoof full at times but I love regardless. I take her out when time is convenient for both of us, which is pretty often. But I don’t mind, I love spending time with her, making that filly smile is like a second job, but I do it without hesitation.
Not seeing my parents and given the way they died still haunts me in my dreams. We never did get to have a burial for them, there was nothing left to berry. I was never given the chance to properly mourn and put it to rest but I know they loved me, and this way I’ll never forget them. Still... Out of all the years past, I just wish I got to say a proper goodbye.
I still practice in the way of the sword, with how much of it I’ve learned and done, not to mention how much I liked it. It’s just as natural as bucking. I get my old friend Shining Armor come down every now and then and we spare. He’s now the head guard, which makes it even funnier that I can out best him in a one on one. He taught me a bit too well I think. Even though he realizes my life is at the farm he says the offer to join is always open. Apparently even Princess Luna herself requested it. She even showed me one night an old dream that I had and what I would take on and what roll. Though I can’t speak much on that, I’m not allowed to. I still respectfully turned her down. She wasn’t upset, actually she commended me for my loyalty and passion to the farm. Have to say I’ve never turned down royalty before, that was a first.
Besides bucking, spending time with the family, and practicing my swordsmanship, I spend my spare time either admiring the farm over younder or going for walks. My habit of walking followed me from Manehaten. I go to the Everfree Forest. A lot of ponies say it’s far too dangerous. Given the Timberwolves, Cockatrices, Manticores, Cragadile, so on and so on. Also how everything works on its own tends to throw others off. But I loved it. Every time I enter those woods a peace would come over me and was like I had changed, eyes filled with openness of the darken woods, sparkling with the vast sense of wonder and closure, with a mysterious look like the woods itself. I thrived there. The awkward trees and their leafs, the plants and flowers filled with colors of plenty, and the vines that appeared to be tie it all together holding it in place. It always gave me that sense of freedom, I loved how natural everything was, strait down to the weather as it controlled itself with the animals. Tie that all together and it was like my playground. I even met a zebra that lives in their who’s name Zecora. She specializes in alchemy and herbal remedies. After we got to know each other I took a strong interest to what she did, and when I asked she was more than grateful to show me.
I still don’t have many friends besides Zecora, when I came back it was like a broken life. My new family has helped fill that void though. Applejack had introduced me to her group of friends and I’ve grown quite fond of all of them, they’ve shown me friendship as I have shown them and we’ve all grown pretty close to one another. And one of them is even an alicorn princess, who would have thought that an alicorn princess would live right here in the ponyville library. And she wields something called the “Elements of Harmony” which apparently not only applejack, but the rest of them are all a part of. Applejack has told me that if it were the opposite with me and her and she left and I stayed, I would have become the Element of Honesty, do to my own self and nature same as her. But whether that's true or not I turn it down, she’s the one, that’s what matters. That was actually one of my father’s mottos--Stay honest, yet humble. Let go but love on. And be yourself, and respect others in the same.--and I’ve come to be able to call that one of mine as well.
I live like my father and mother would have wanted me to, to not only be myself and to never let go of that, but to be with a family that will always love and accept me, and to be where I belonged. And I can honestly say... I am...
The end...
