I was born a few miles from the nearest city, Ponyville, on a marshy hillside infested in both overgrowth and tangled grass.
My mother was just the sweetest mare. Checked on me every day, nurtured and cared for me deeply. I loved her like no other son could. She made it an effort to make sure I grew healthy and happy. She had the deepest, widest eyes, a coat of fur that always seemed to shine, whether it be day or night. Her trademark sunhat. I never liked that hat, hiding away all her wonderful features, masking them in a blanket of shade.
Sometimes I wanted to reach out, wrap her in a hug, showed her how much I really loved her. But I feared she didn’t like hugs, because she never gave me one before.
I wish I knew what a hug was like. How did it feel to have a pony wrap their hoofs around your body, let yourself melt away as they clung on to you? I yearned for that, needed that.
I wanted to ask my mom if she really loved me or not. She never said it; never really spoke to me, even. Did she hate me? Did I do something wrong? She would just smile, look me over and…smile. I guess that was her way of saying ‘I love you’. But I wouldn’t know… no ponies ever said it to me before.
***
By the time I was five, I wondered when I was gonna get my cutie mark. I never really had any talents. Unless there’s a cutie mark for soaking up the sun all day, than I guess I’m set, yet something tells me that doesn’t exist. I want to ask my mom when I’ll get it, but I’m afraid she’d look down on me, tell me how stupid of a question it would be. So I kept to myself and kept dreaming to myself… dreaming of the day I get my cutie mark.
***
Then I turned seven before I knew it, and a panning loneliness was coming over me. All these years, my mom was the only pony I knew, only pony who ever really noticed me. Sure, sometimes a stallion or two may come passing by. I’d smile at them, but they never noticed, never really looked at me, never smiled back. Just kept walking on, like I was never even there. And that’s the way I felt for a long time. I was never really there.
I’m seven for Pete sake! I should be playing with the other colts and fillies, dancing around city streets, eating candy and having fun. Enjoying the early years of my life. Yet I’m stuck here, just me and mom. Sometimes I feel it’s her fault, why wouldn’t she let me be with the other ponies? But I never yelled at her, raised my voice at her. Last thing I needed was my only friend turning her back on me. So I kept to myself, like I always have, always will.
***
When I turned ten, I found joy in looking over the distant town of Ponyville. I spent all my time perched up on that hill, so I might as well do some sightseeing while I’m here. I had the perfect view; all the ponies looked like ants from over here. Made me feel bigger than I actually was, stronger and more dependent. I knew that wasn’t true… but it’s fun to pretend every now and then.
Mom still visited me, but not as much. Daily visits turned to weekly visits. I was worried I had done something wrong again… maybe she was upset with me. One time, I tried making a gift for her out of some branches I found. I organized them into a heart shape and left it where she could see it when she returned.
She just smiled down on it, and I waited eagerly for her response. She said nothing, spent a few moments with me and trotted back to town like she always did. I watched her from the hill top the whole way down, crying as she did so.
I don’t think my mommy really loves me anymore.
***
Before long I was twelve. Still no cutie mark… still no friends… just mom and me, I guess.
I was busy staring up at the sunset one late evening, watching jadedly as it dropped below the horizon. Sure it was beautiful, all Ponyville sunsets were, but I’d seen it every day for the past twelve years. A lot of great things seemed to be losing my interest.
My thoughts were cut short by the sound of laughter running up the hill. I turned and saw a colt and filly galloping right my way. I felt my heart stop; I was too excited to speak. They came to a halt before me, smiled at one another… smiled at me.
We played till dark, they would run circles around me and I would laugh giddily as I tried to catch them. We would have sword fights with sticks and branches, imagined we stood in crowded gladiatorial theatres, dueling to the death, laughing the whole way through.
Within a few hours we were pretty beat. They leaned up against me, and I leaned up against them. We all fell asleep together as one, and I, for the first time in forever, got to make a couple of amazing friends.
By the time morning came, the two of them were gone. I couldn’t wait to tell mom all about it next time she came to visit. I had a strong feeling I would see those two again soon. Very soon.
***
By now I was fifteen and starting to feel… strange. Like a funny churning in my gut whenever a pretty mare walked by. I didn’t know where these weird feelings came from, but they’re here, and it doesn’t look like they’re gonna be leaving anytime soon. Sure, the colt and filly still come time and time again, but not as much, and neither does mom. It hurts to be alone. I just want to talk to somepony, tell them about these feelings. But I don’t get many visitors these days, so I gotta stay dependent; fight these feelings on my own.
One day, the colt and filly returned, saddle bags filled to the brim in books. They came and sat beside me like normal, doing homework and such. Well, ‘homework’ is what they called it, but I’m not too sure what that is, but it sure looks tough. I wonder why I never had to do homework.
But I’m getting sidetracked. Anyways, I overheard them talking about a dance coming up at a place they call ‘School’. Yet another thing I’ve never heard of. The colt nervously asked the filly if she wanted to go with him. She hugged him in a tight embrace, and said ‘yes’ more times than I could count.
They didn’t ask me if I could come, didn’t even talk to me that day. I just watched as they held each other’s hoofs, walking gleefully back towards town.
I didn’t even acknowledge mom that evening. I was too distraught. I wanted what they shared, what they felt for one another. I wanted to feel that hug the colt felt, I wanted to go to this dance, I wanted to feel what dancing was like, dress all fancy and just… dance. I wanted all of that, but I couldn’t have it, and I had no idea why. I wanted to just.. just die there and then. “My life isn’t fair,” I thought.
My life isn’t fair…
***
Seventeen came rolling by and my reality and purpose really began to settle in for the first time. The colt and filly, now much older, no doubt, haven’t visited in a year. Mom comes around every month or two. She doesn’t really smile much anymore, just spends some time with me, and leaves, same process since the day I was born. Only now it lacks the love and compassion.
I still have no cutie mark, no friends besides the ones who have left me, no ties to the real world, other than the looming town of Ponyville that I watch over day and night. And no sense of what life is like. I stopped trying to find the joy of things around a year ago. Didn’t smile at the ponies passing by, didn’t watch the sunsets, didn’t even feel the strength when overlooking Ponyville like before. I just didn’t care anymore, and I felt numb. I didn’t cry about my problems like before, just ignored them, but I still sobbed, inside of my hollowed-out core.
I may have been at the ripe age of seventeen, but a felt far past ninety. I felt I’ve already seen all life has to give me.
***
Twenty two… nothing happened much that year, only one night stands out from the rest.
It was a cold, bitter evening, the sun had just died and a newly birthed moon cradled itself above the distant Ponyville. I was about to nod off, but the sound of oncoming hoofsteps awoke me. An old, withered stallion came my way.
He wasn’t like anypony I’d ever seen before. He held some kind of strange bottle in his hoof and his walking was off and clumsy, his face caked over in a red blush. He wore a faded suit and loosened tie, all pelted in odd water stains. His mane was messy and frazzled and he seemed to be mumbling some obscure fraises to himself.
I tried ignoring him like many ignored me. I wanted nothing to do with this… mess of a stallion. Yet he came right towards me, and plopped himself right at my side. I wanted to get up and run, or push him aside and tell him to scram, yet I feared doing so would trigger some fit of rage. So I remained still as stone.
I was nearing my breaking point when the stallion finally spoke out. I wasn’t sure if he was either talking to me or himself, but I listened. “Ya know, *hic*, why is it that *hic* everyponies gotta be sucha *hic* idiot. Y-ya know *hic* what I’m saying?”
I said nothing, let him continue.
“M-my wife, she *hic* can be a real *hic* idiot sometimes. Always *hic* whining and *hic* bitching about my *hic* d-debt.”
Though I had no idea what a ‘wife’ or a ‘debt’ was, I was caught up in his tale, staying quiet and growing more and more intrigued by the minute.
“And those… t-those damn *hic* k-kids of mine. R-running off with all my *hic* money. Looks like poor old *hic* daddy will have to sit by while those *hic* assholes spend away my l-life.”
He started to cry, leaning his head harder against me. He cried for too long to remember and every moment yanked on my heart harder and harder. I wanted to hug him, hold him, tell him it’d all be ok. Though I knew nothing of what he spoke, I felt his pain, understood the feeling of loneliness.
Before long he passed out by my side, quieter than a mouse. I fell asleep as well, listening to his every staggered breath.
Morning came and the stallion was gone. I never saw him again. I was mad at myself, though. Mad I didn’t get to tell him the truth. It’ll all get better. But sometimes I wonder… is that really the truth?
***
Thirty five. I’m worried something bad has happened to mom. She hasn’t visited me in months. She was old and frail last time we came face to face, struggling to lay back on those tired haunches of hers. She sat by me and I sat by her, silently thanking her for all the work and motivation she had put into my life. How much I really loved her. I don’t know why, but I feel she somehow heard me.
That was five months ago… she never takes this much time away from me. What ever happened to her? I want to run to town, call her name, scream to everypony; ask where in the name of Equestria she is!
But I can’t… I won’t leave my little hill… I’m too attached, too connected. All else but my hill is foreign, alien, otherworldly.
All I can do is hope… hope she comes back soon.
***
Forty… still no sign of mom. A few years back I assumed the worst. I just… I just can’t believe any of this is happening. I just wish I was there for her. But I wasn’t… I was up here, on this stupid. Fucking. HILL!
This hill… it’s not home, it’s not my life… it’s a god damn cage. It’s this hill that keeps me grounded, imprisoned. I need to go to Ponyville, I need to see my Mom, that stallion, the colt and filly. I can’t do this anymore!
I hate this life! I want to be normal; I want to be sane again! I want those naïve childhood years back, I want to live them the way they should have been lived. I want to go to school, finish homework, go to that dance.
I want a special somepony! I want foals of my own!
I WANT MY LIFE BACK!
But I am rooted… forever rooted.
All have left me… Mom, the colt and filly, that stallion… it’s just me now and me alone.
I will try; try to find what little joys I can through the rest of my life. Whether it is watching the sunset, overlooking Ponyville, or simply smiling at a passerby. I’ll try… my very best.
It’s what mom would have wanted.
It’s what the colt and filly would have wanted.
It’s what the stallion would have wanted.
It’s what I want, what I need.
To live my life… and live it well. All till the end.
Cause one day I’ll get that hug, that feeling when somepony says they love you. It’ll happen… I can feel it. But till then, I’ll stay who I am, be me, and be happy.
All till the end… I will live life… all till the end.
