Author's Note
Just to let you guys know...
1) Apple Bloom is aged up to be about 18 in this story.
2) Whenever Apple Bloom is thinking, it will be in italics.
Lonely
Early in the morning, I slipped into my rain boots and pulled my jacket onto my thin frame, zipping up the front. I tied an amber and red striped wool scarf around my neck, letting the extra fabric hang in front of my chest. Grabbing an apple off the counter, I set it in the pocket of my black, suede jacket. I stepped outside of the farmhouse, leaving the warm home in exchange for the wide open fields. With the apple harvest just finished, autumn was setting in. Taking in a deep breath, I let the crisp air of fall into my lungs. I sent a glance back at the house for just a moment, happy to see all the lights were still off.
It was Sunday, a day of rest and breaks for the Apple family. It was our day off in the busy seasons, such as harvesting season and planting season. As it was still early, neither of my siblings had woken yet, giving me some time to myself. Following a dusty path, I walked down through the orchard, crunchy leaves drifting through the air. Once I reached the south field, I abandoned the path, walking down through the rows of trees, slowly placing hoof after hoof, letting my legs carry me where they wished.
Finding a comfortable spot, I sat back and leaned up against a trunk. I pulled the apple from my pocket, wiping any dust off of it and onto my scarf. Taking a bite, I let the juice run down my cheek before wiping it off my a swipe of my hoof. Savoring the sweet flavor, I allowed my mind to drift in the peaceful quiet of the early autumn orchard.
Time goes too quick. Childhoods slip away without a trace. The best times of your life slowly fade from your memory. I used to spend time just playing with Applejack and Macintosh, but now they're too busy for me. The times we used to share were priceless, but they've just got tossed into the black hole of memories that no longer matter. Well those times mattered to me. I treasured them, looked forwards to them, looked back on them.
Growing up without parents is hard. I always depended on my brother and sister for things. To take care of me. To teach me. To let me see the joy in life. I think they forget about me these days. I spend a lot of time in my room, but not because I don't want to see them. Because I fear they don't want to see me. When I do come downstairs to join them, it's like I'm not even there. They greet me then go about their business, not even bothering to talk to me. Sometimes I think I should just talk to them, but I always stop myself, afraid to get hurt.
A cold wind blew across my face, making me shiver under my thin jacket. I shifted into the trunk of the tree, hoping it would offer some protection from the growing winds. Pulling my legs up to my chest, I let my body help itself keep warm. I took another bite of the apple, looking down at the red and gold fruit. My brother and sister knew this was their lives, but I wasn't so sure. I was a country pony, with no doubt, but I couldn't help but I feel I was destined to do more than work on an apple farm. I brushed the notion aside, finishing my breakfast and tossing the core onto the grassy ground, which was beginning to cover with fallen leaves.
After a moment, I stood back up and resumed my walk. I made my way under the rows of thinning trees, listening to the crunch of my boots landing on the colorful array of leaves. Stepping through a puddle, I was glad I had brought my rain boots. I turned around a tree, altering my course from a nice open row to a dense cover of entwining branches and trunks. The loneliness was less evident when I found myself enclosed in. Out in the open, I felt vulnerable.
Please, I can't be the only one who feels this. The silence is too loud and the noise is too quiet. Everything is confusing and complex. My family doesn't even care for me anymore. I just don't know what to do with myself. I never feel safe. I am always targeted. I am always open. I am always alone.
Alone. A word that I used to think was great. I had always dreamed of staying home. Alone. I wanted Diamond Tiara to leave me. Alone. Why did my life revolve around being alone. Now that I am always alone, I realized that though being alone might have sounded great, it isn't. It's upsetting. It's scary. It's lonely. Lonely.
I laid down in the maze of branches, letting myself fall to the ground. I let the tears spill. The tears I had been holding back for years and years. Every tear I never shed was finally dripping down my face, falling down into the grass. Silent sobs racked my body, emotions demanding to be let out. I couldn't hold it in any longer. I was weak. I let my feelings take over, but I didn't care. Some things, like a caged bird, just need to be set free.
"Oh, Apple Bloom," I cried softly, my vision blurred by my tears. "What are you going to do?"
I laid my head down on my hooves, letting myself cry until I didn't have any tears left to cry. I took in shaky breaths, doing my best to calm myself. Just like always, I was alone, or so I thought. I felt a hoof gently stroking my shoulder. I sniffed and wiped at my eyes, turning my head to see who was beside me.
"Everything will be alright, Sugarcube." A familiar voice reached my ears and wrapped my arms around the pony who had spoken. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I wasn't alone.
