Derpy Hooves

by Perfect Prime

Rating: teen
Tags: Derpy Hooves, Slice of Life, Sad, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 11066

How much do you know about Ponyville's beloved mailmare?

There is no way to determine just what a pony has been through with one single glance, and it is an impossible task; even for detectives. The only ones who really understand anypony is the pony themselves, but that doesn't mean you can't try to. If given the opportunity to either shun sompeony or to accept them, always go for the second option, and never make a pony feel left out.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Published 2012-05-05 21:34:03 UTC
Last updated 2012-05-05 21:34:03 UTC

Derpy Hooves

Derpy Hooves

My name is Derpy Hooves, and I am just your everyday mailmare -- or at least I want to be. I’m not exactly the same as everypony else, but I’m pretty similar. What’s so different about me that makes everypony look at me like that? They think I can’t see them when I’m wall-eyed, but that’s just their own stupidity. I can see perfectly fine, and it’s not nice to laugh at somepony like that.

For as long as I can remember, my eyes have been this way, and I’ve never experienced any other reality apart from the one where everypony ridicules me. When I was younger I used to go along with their laughter like my parents told me to, but eventually I learned that they didn’t find my jokes funny or anything like that. They were just laughing at me, and how stupid I looked.

I don’t understand how the way a pony looks can matter so much, and even after I proved that I’m not dim-witted, they still won’t believe. They prefer the lie, since with that; at least they could get a laugh out of it. I always felt so alone, and even though I have friends that care about my safety, I still feel like the entire world is against me. Most ponies are kind enough to only giggle and point, but others have gone as far as to hide their foals from me -- afraid I might pass it on to them. That shows you just how smart everypony else is.

After my father passed away when I was four or five, my mother alone had to care for me. She genuinely wasn’t very smart, and the only job she could keep was working as a mailmare. Every morning when I left for another arduous day of school, my mother would kiss me on the head and look at me with her gentle, green eyes; telling me that today would be different, and that each new day held the promise of happiness. All I would do was give her a short hug and quick smile before dragging myself through the door and heading off towards school. Now, I really wish I had some sort of other reaction, but it’s too late to change it.

School could be horrific and also delightful; it was its own opposite. School sliced my hopes in two but gave me the friendships that pulled me through and that I still uphold today. Some of my best friends that live in Ponyville now were originally fillies and colts that I met in school from my Primary years up until the end of Upper Sixth. See, if I could make it to the end of Upper Sixth, then obviously I’m not a stupid pony, but nopony really cares anymore. They still enjoy the ridicule.

One of my longest friends ever, is in fact one that I meet daily, and one that often helps me out. Carrot Top and I became acquaintances when we were both eight, and we were in the same class together. “4IM” -- the name of our form. All they did was take your year number, and put the teacher’s initials on the end. Every now and then something humorous came around like “5IDK,” or “10LOL.” It was pretty funny and it was sometimes the only thing that could cheer Carrot Top up if she was upset.

We were both really shy, and that was one of the harshest years of school I’ve ever had the displeasure to endure. Everypony in the class were just foals, and they didn’t know how to feel sympathy, and instead, all they did was laugh and point out of curiosity. I know that they meant no harm and I know that they were just being inquisitive, but that doesn’t change the fact that their laughter hurt, and that I was feeling incredibly alone.

The teacher would always scold the children about their giggles, but when he thought our backs were turned, I would catch him chuckling under his breath himself. I wanted to feel mad at him, but I just couldn’t do it. After all, at least he made an attempt to stop the ridicule; even if it was hypocritical. There were a few ponies however, that never laughed, and instead seemed nervous and scared each time the room burst into an uproar when I did something wrong. One of those ponies was Carrot Top.

Back then, her mane was still sort of fluffy, but it was a lot shorter and just barely managed to cover her forehead. Whilst everypony else had at least one form of accessory on their body, we were the only two that were completely blank all over -- even on our flanks -- and we stood out of the crowd like a sore hoof. One day when they started their daily chuckles again, I ran out because I couldn’t stand it anymore. Their voices and their faces only infuriated me, and forced me to think about why I was cursed to be like this.

This happened during the lunch break, so the teacher wasn’t there to keep them under wraps, and if I wanted to escape from their laughter, then I had to run -- and that’s exactly what I did. I didn’t want to cry or anything, but I wanted to get away quickly. I ran out into the school playground where everypony was, and started to flap my wings. A few years before this, my mum worked really hard to get the money that I needed to go to Summer Flight Camp, and after I learnt how to fly, I thoroughly enjoyed it. However, at the time I wasn’t trying to cheer myself up by flying; I was trying to get away.

When I was even younger, and when I couldn’t get to sleep at night, my mother was always the one to console me. She would hold me tenderly in her hooves, and whisper in my ear that there were no monsters, and that everything was going to be fine. She would then gingerly open the windows with her wing, and then fly through it whilst she carried me. She flew fast, and when the cold night air rushed past my face, she would hold me tighter and offer me extra warmth. We’d always go so high up, and when she got too tired to go on, she would sit down on top of one of the highest clouds in the night sky.

She would point out over Ponyville and towards Cloudsdale, and tell me to follow her hoof as she slowly dragged it across the horizon, and sketched a steady circle. She would let me revel in the beauty and tranquillity of it all as she pressed me against her heart, and she would tell me that this was the world that housed me. She would say that the world can always seem ugly, and cruel, but at the end of the day it would always return to the serene beauty that we saw together. Those moments would always make me so happy, and when she was ready we would descend from the heavens, and go home. She would tuck me in, and kiss me on the head before sitting by my side, and adding that in a world so expansive, there wasn’t a single monster in sight. She would wait until I’d dozed off before leaving, and I loved that.

That’s what I did that day in school, and once I was outside in the playground, I flapped my wings as hard as I could, and headed for the roof. Sadly, I was thinking about something at the time and when I think, my eyes start to move on their own. Once again I was wall-eyed but this time it was in the air, and I crashed down onto the ground. Everypony stared at me for a moment; bringing about a wave of silence over the D.P.A. Then they all erupted into laughter and their bodies convulsed as they all pointed at me. I was even more embarrassed and annoyed now, so I abandoned my thoughts and successfully made it up to the roof of the school.

From the top, I glared down for a moment and saw the sight of the majority of the school chortling and making fun of me again; all facing me from below. I trotted over to the centre of the roof and knelt there for a while; allowing for my thoughts to return to me. Their frustrating faces and their shrill voices remained vivid in my mind, and it was getting increasingly more difficult for me to picture the cloud-capped night skies that my mother showed me.

I kept trying to pull my memories out and enjoy them, but I could still hear them laughing and it dominated my mind more than anything else; denying me my solace. Eventually, their voices faded away and at first I thought that they were finally leaving me alone, but as I opened my eyes and lifted my head out of my hooves, I saw that storm clouds blocked out the azure skies, and shrouded us all in their immense shadows. As a Pegasus, I could tell that there was going to be rain, and that it would be stronger than your average drizzle.

Despite having ample time to leave, I remained where I was and felt the rainwater wash the outer surface of my body; soaking my mane and freezing me down to the bone. Some might find that to be extremely uncomfortable, but I found it soothing. I’ve always loved the rain, and it’s because even though at the time, it’s dark, and gloomy, and cold, sooner or later the rain has to end, and the sun will come out to warm our bodies; bringing light back into our lives.

There I was, alone on the roof; slowly calming down and relaxing as I imagined the rain washing my soul and giving me an entirely clean slate. I definitely felt cold, and I was shivering under the weight of the air, but I still stayed there. I thought briefly of my father and his powerful, lemon-coloured wings. I remembered those times when he was still alive and he took me to the park to play with me. If it ever rained, he would stretch out his wings and keep me safe and dry underneath. It would always feel so warm, and I would nuzzle into his neck as he escorted me home through the varying downpours.

Sadly, he wasn’t there anymore, and he wasn’t ever going to come back, so there was nopony that was going to come and keep me dry. But, as I still remained motionless with my face buried in my hooves, I could make out the faintest sounds of hoofsteps approaching and a door opening amongst the droning pitter-patter. I didn’t want to see who was there at first, but when she got closer to me, she draped a jacket on my back, and threw a black fedora on my head. I thought it was strange for her to just suddenly do these things, so I decided to look at her; seeing Carrot Top for the first time up close.

She smiled at me softly, and just seeing her was enough to lift my body and spirits. I don’t know why, but when I saw her I felt as if she would be somepony that I’d remember for a long time, and I was right. She led me down a few flights of stairs and let me lean against her as we trotted back to the classroom. Her coat was warm yet wet to the touch, and had a faint hint of carrots lingering about it. I could tell that she was uncomfortable with my freezing body touching hers, but she put up with it, and I just kept leaning.

When we got back, everypony stared at us, but remained silent. They all looked embarrassed and ashamed as we trotted past and headed towards my desk. I thought that they were being remorseful for mocking me so much, but turns out Carrot Top screamed at them before she came to get me. I heard that from one of the fillies in the background and as Carrot Top helped dry me down and sat me by the radiator in the wall, I couldn’t help but feel grateful towards her. I didn’t even know her, yet she was already so nice to me, and to her I was just a background classmate. After that day, we became friends.

Carrot Top is one of my best friends, and she was the one that I grew accustomed to first, but a few days after our encounter on the rooftop, I met another pony. Technically it was two more ponies, but they were so in sync that they might as well have just been one. They were twins, and they eventually became famous for being some of the youngest members of the Wonderbolts.

One afternoon when everypony was enjoying their lunch, I realised that I actually forgot to pack anything to eat, and my mother forgot to remind me to check. I thought that I was going to have to go without any food for the entirety of the lunch break. I was pretty disappointed by this, but luckily for me, Carrot Top decided to share her lunch with me. Pretty much everything she had however was carrots, and since I never really liked carrots, I didn’t feel like eating her lunch. Just as I was about to decline though, I saw something in her plastic orange lunch box that caught my eye and attention.

Some sort of baked good with an outer coating coloured like the brilliant sunset. I couldn’t tell if there was an aroma or not since I had a cold that day and my nose was blocked, but it seemed to beckon to me, and I craved it for some reason. My mouth started watering as I reached out with a hoof and lifted it up. Carrot Top was chuckling as she watched me bow down before the muffin, but I didn’t care and her giggling actually made me happy since it was so jubilant and lively.

I took a bite from it, and that single mouthful was one of the closest sightings I had of the pearly gates of Heaven. Texture, flavour, consistency -- all woven into a delicious, bouncy delicacy. There are not enough words in all the languages of the world for me to even begin to articulate how that mouthful made me feel. For a second, I even thought I saw a vision of my mother, my father, and me; all together in the park, basking under the delightful sunlight.

A tear appeared in the corner of my eye, and Carrot Top started to laugh even more as I told her about how great the carrot muffin was. She said that one day she would teach me how to make them, and that made me so happy that I craved another mouthful of the fluffy bun.

Sadly, that second mouthful never reached my taste buds because of a little incident that ultimately ended with me in tears. As I pulled it closer to my lips, and was about to enjoy the flavour once more, two yellow streaks shot through the air and one of them knocked my hoof; forcing me to drop the muffin. I watched it fall and tried my best to salvage it, but I didn’t make it, and it had come into contact with the disgusting, hardwood floor.

I can’t even remember just how upset I was, and I was genuinely bawling in my seat as I grieved the loss of my muffin. Carrot Top tried her best to console me, but I don’t think she’d ever seen me that upset before, so I wasn’t really thinking that she’d succeed. She still tried though, and that was good enough since it let me know that I had at least one friend out there. The two yellow streaks promptly zipped back after they heard the crying in the background, and they trotted up to me; one of them looking a bit nervous and embarrassed.

The older of the two twins was the more colourful one, since in her permanently blown back mane and her somewhat short tail; there were two tones reminiscent of Celestia’s beloved star. Her eyes were much like her little sister’s; they were a gentle yet brilliant orange, and they looked at me apologetically as I sobbed. Spitfire tried to say she was sorry, but I think my crying got in the way of that a lot and just made her really fidgety.

Spitfire’s sister, Blaze, was a lot less comforting, and all she really did was just stand there in the background as her sibling and Carrot Top eventually got me to quiet down. I’m pretty sure she was only there because Spitfire dragged her along, but I wasn’t too bothered by that at the time. When I finally calmed down, I looked at the mushy remains of the muffin that fell on the floor and that I carelessly stepped on before, and felt the tears well up in my nose again.

I probably made that scrunched up, wincing face that a lot of ponies make when they are about to cry, and that alerted Carrot Top and Spitfire that they were about to be in for another waterworks display. Thinking really fast, Spitfire twirled around and flew off to one of the many desks in the room; carrying a plastic box in her teeth as she darted back to where we were. She pried the lunchbox open, and produced from it another muffin that was ever so slightly different to the one that Carrot Top gave me.

Spitfire’s muffin had a few black specks all over the surface of it, and even though I appreciated the gesture, I didn’t really feel like eating something that looked so rancid. She reassured me though, and told me that it was her mother’s favourite, and that it was definitely edible. At first I was still a bit nervous and cautious, but once I heard my stomach growl again I decided to go for it, and that I had nothing to lose. I didn’t lose anything, and I don’t regret my actions, for if I didn’t do what I did that day, then I would have never known about blueberry muffins.

The taste was sensational and my tongue almost went numb from the overwhelming wave of delightful and exuberant sweetness, mixed in with the fluffy texture and airy bread of the muffin itself. I chewed it until it became like a paste and I covered the inside of my mouth with it; letting me enjoy it for just a few extra seconds before I finally swallowed and anticipated my next mouthful. A short amount of time later, I finished eating it and when I put my tongue back in my mouth after licking my lips, I saw the gentle and happy, orange eyes of Spitfire as she stared at me and smiled; no doubt amused by my reaction to the blueberry muffin.

They were so nice to me that day, and Spitfire even bought me a muffin. We were the same age, yet in comparison I was just so incompetent and useless. She didn’t mind though, and starting from that day, Spitfire and Blaze greeted me more often, and started to talk to me in school. It was only a few days later that the four of us all became friends, and that we started to play together even more. In such a short amount of time, I wasn't lonely anymore, and I forgot all about my father. I was too happy, and there was no time for me to even think about being sad; not with my friends around.

For the next few years, all that happened was that we got even closer, and eventually became the best of friends. As we grew older, the ridicule that was constantly aimed at me became much more frequent, and much more hurtful, but I never talked to my mother about it again. I didn’t need to. I always had at least one of my friends with me, and whenever they heard another pony make fun of me, they would step in and defend me. I was so grateful, and I wished I could do something for them, but I had to settle with just thanking them since I couldn’t really do anything. Even Blaze -- who was the most apathetic of our circle of friends -- would passionately talk back to anypony who mocked me.

Carrot Top kept her promise, and she taught me how to bake muffins on my own. She didn’t decide to teach me until we were all in High School, and not until we were fifteen years old. By this point I had almost perfected flying, and had definitely mastered the art of keeping my eyes straight. I didn’t need to focus as much to stop them from moving, and I could at least appear the slightest bit normal. Carrot, Spitfire, and Blaze were the ones that helped me to keep my reflex under control, and I had a lot to thank them for. After Carrot finally taught me how to make muffins and I could confidently make them on my own, I made some for my friends.

When I offered the baked goods to them, they were delighted and scoffed them down faster than I could. It made me feel great to see that my friends enjoyed my creation so much, and it was so refreshing to hear them praise me so highly. When I was fifteen, I was still a blank flank, and at every single opportunity they would praise me, and tell me that I was about to find my calling. Carrot Top got her three carrots on her flank, Blaze had a spiral of flames, and Spitfire had a fire with wings on the side. My mother would say the same thing as my friends and reassure me that my talent was right at the door, and that all I had to do was let it in. It sounded so easy, but I had to go through a lot of anguish to finally get my Cutie Mark.

Year eleven eventually came, and we had to deal with our GCSEs. For me, exams were never a problem, and I always knew everything I needed to know. All three of my friends were shocked by just how smart I was, but it all seemed so obvious to me. Despite this though, the ponies that still knew about my eyes or those who saw them apart would still call me a stupid pony. At most, they could call me forgetful, but definitely not stupid.

The week of the examinations came, and out of all three of them, Blaze was the most agitated. Spitfire said that her brother helped her revise, and Carrot Top said that she had another friend of hers tutor her, but Blaze was too proud to ask anypony for help. I felt bad for her, and that’s why I thought of doing what I did next. I don’t even mind the fact that I broke the rules, since at least I got to help out a friend in need. We had an hour before we had to go to the examination hall, and that was enough time for me. Everypony has some sort of quirky talent of theirs, and whilst Carrot Top’s was being able to read incredibly fast, and Spitfire’s was the way she manipulated numbers, and Blaze had an unmatched memory for dialogue. At times, it came in handy when we needed to resolve disagreements, but it was a key part to my plan to help her pass her exams.

I had the easiest job, since all I had to do was devise an encryption method, and then encrypt a message to be relayed to Blaze. It would have to be something really basic that we could both pass off as agitation, so I decided to go with taps. Two types of taps -- one short and one long -- and depending on the order they came in, they would reveal different letters. I wrote out the entire alphabet and included their encrypted equivalents. Obviously, I had to tap it out and say it aloud for Blaze to memorise it all, but when I asked her to say hello to me, she did it with incredible ease. We were both ready, and when the time came for us to meet up with Carrot and Spitfire, she was grinning like a madmare.

For the entirety of the week, I would rush through each exam, and then check my answers before dictating them to Blaze who usually sat within a ten metre radius of where I was. The last exam we had was chemistry, and this was the one subject -- apart from English language and literature -- where I couldn’t really help her out that much. A few questions I could explain and provide her with the answers, but there were a few she had to work out on her own. Afterwards, she seemed to be pleased with her efforts, and was convinced that she at least got a B in the exam. It wasn’t that good of a grade to get, but she was pleased with it so that was enough.

Something happened to us after the exams, and it almost gave me a heart attack. When we stepped out and congratulated each other -- despite not knowing our results -- a grey bodied and bloody maned Unicorn trotted up to us with a smug look on his face. At first, he was silent and he gave us the chills. Blaze threatened to attack him, but he just stood there and chuckled. When we asked him what was so funny, all he did was look at us, and tap his hoof on the ground. With our minds synchronised for that moment, Blaze and I both realised that he was giving us a message, and that he was right. He did know our code.

The look of fear we had on our face was probably enough to inform him that he was correct, and that he had us figured out. We were so scared, and we were afraid that he was going to grass on us. Luckily however, all he did was chuckle once more, and commend me for giving him such an interesting puzzle. We didn’t know who he was, and we didn’t know if he was going to tell on us at the time, but we never heard from him again, and that was the end of that.

Shortly after the exams, the Summer Holidays were upon us, and we got out of school as fast as we could. That summer, a lot happened, and although it was for the most part enjoyable, there were some aspects that I would have preferred to have never experienced. The first of the events that came during the holidays was the four of us parting ways. It was for the best, since that way two of us could chase our dreams, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard for us, and it doesn’t mean that it didn’t kill us on the inside.

It all started when we all went to Cloudsdale for a few weeks, and we managed to catch one of the Wonderbolts’ performances. We had to pay about thirty or so bits for a Unicorn to make it possible for Carrot to walk on clouds, but it was worth it because that meant we were all there together. Spitfire and Blaze came with their parents and we stayed in their second home which was a few minutes flying away from the centre of the airborne city.

I found it weird that their brother wasn’t there with them, but when I asked them about it they told me that he preferred to be alone and was busy in Ponyville. They also mentioned that he hated Cloudsdale and that there was a tertiary reason why he wouldn’t come, but I wasn’t really paying that much attention when she told me, so I forgot. Carrot Top and I came with my mother, and together, the seven of us stayed in a mansion-sized cloud home that floated above the border of Ponyville. My mother was glad to see that I was so happy surrounded by my friends, and she had taken some time off work as a mailmare so that she could come with us to Cloudsdale.

We did the general tourist stuff at first, and eventually we saw it all. We went to the weather factory and we saw the inner workings of preparing for the weather. It was all a very rigorous process and we were amazed by the amount of pressure that the workers had on their shoulders. Carrot even joked about how she was glad she wasn’t a Pegasus, so that she would never have to worry about working there. Eventually, we ran out of stuff to do, and we started to get bored of everything that was going on. Luckily for us though, there were two big events going on around the time we planned on leaning; one of which was a performance by the Wonderbolts.

When Spitfire and Blaze saw this, they both begged to go, and after discussing it for a while, their parents agreed to let them see it. They were over the moon with joy and when they were done embracing each other, they tackled Carrot and me to the fluffy cloud ground and we all laughed together. When the day arrived, we woke up really early and flew there as fast as we could. Spitfire was the best flier out of all of us so it was her job to carry Carrot Top. Our parents could barely keep up, but they seemed to enjoy the chase at least a little bit, and they were genuinely delighted that we were so happy.

All the way from start to finish, Spitfire and Blaze were enthralled by the air show; and they revelled in the beauty of the aerobatic Pegasi. I too was impressed and amazed, but I don’t think I was as preoccupied or obsessed with it as they were. Never once did they look away and it almost felt like they were ignoring us; but it was OK since they were so happy. Afterwards, they apologised for blanking us, and they flew off at breakneck speeds; rushing over to the stars of the show so as to get their autographs. I made an attempt at following them, but the gathering of ponies was so large and dense that I didn’t stand a chance of getting through.

I didn’t really mind that I didn’t get an autograph, since I wouldn’t need it to remember the fun we had that day, but it obviously meant a lot to the twins. When they came back and met up with us, their manes were a mess and they each held a single piece of paper in their teeth; each with a different signature. Blaze got one from the Captain, and Spitfire got one form the young prodigy in the Wonderbolts. Apparently, he was only two years older than us, but everypony thought that he was going to be the next Captain. We all thought it was pretty impressive that he was so skilled, but we were more concerned at the time with admiring the autographs scribbled on the pieces of paper, and laughing at the messy state of the two twins when they finally made it back to us. After that, we then went on to sign up for the event that three out of the four of us were going to be taking part in.

The annual Best Young Flyer Competition was to take place the day after the Wonderbolts’ performance, and three of them were going to be the judges. Spitfire and Blaze both decided immediately that they wanted to take place, and after lengthy conversation and persuading, I ended up entering too. Sadly, Carrot Top couldn’t join us since she was only an Earth pony, but she promised to be there watching and rooting for us. My mum smiled softly at me, and looked at me with half closed, peaceful eyes. She was glad that I was getting more involved with events like this, and I knew she’d be supporting me.

The next day we all went to the competition and got ready for our own aerial performances. I wasn’t really that bothered by it, and I just planned on making something up on the spot, but I could see that it meant the world to the twins. It was funny to see that even though they were so different in terms of their personalities, they could still be connected by the one interest that they both shared. Although, when they put their minds to it, they could seem like just one pony. In the few hours that the three of us had to prepare, they planned out their entire routine and were both ready

I was in fact the very first one to go up, and I did a few twirls and swirls in the air. The judges weren’t too impressed by the banality of my act, but the crowd seemed to go wild. In actuality, it was just Carrot Top and my mother screaming at the top of their lungs; telling me that I did a good job and cheering for me as I landed firmly on the ground. I had never seen my mother so wild before, and when I looked up into the crowd, I saw her there; standing up on her hindhooves with her wings spread out and screaming down at me. Her mane was blown gently in the wind and ever so slightly obscured her gentle, green eyes, but she still made sure to look at me as she chanted my name. She seemed really happy, and seeing her like that reminded me of a time when we were part of a full family; when we were all really happy.

The last two to perform in the Best Young Flyer Competition were Spitfire and Blaze; and Blaze was the first of the two to go up. After seeing her amazing airborne feats, I realised just how pathetic my own attempt was, and also remembered the sight of the Wonderbolts zipping through the skies. Her performance was brilliant, and I was overcome with joy as I was engulfed by a wave of applause of hollering from the audience; all rooting for the orange maned mare. She was excited too, and she was a bit nervous to hear the electrifying shouts of the Pegasi that watched her, and she was blushing as she stepped down and made way for her sister.

Before Spitfire began, she stomped her hoof on the ground once and effectively silenced the entire crowd. A hushed silence came over us and during those precious few, noiseless seconds, Spitfire stayed still with her head held low; probably gathering her thoughts. By the time that Blaze made her way up to where we were, Spitfire was ready and she shot up into the sky with unimaginable speed. She almost teleported to the various parts of the arena and startled everypony that watched as she demonstrated her flying ability. The unanimous roar from all the ponies was Earth-shattering and was enough to shake the cloud formation that we were inside; sending wisps of the gaseous structure into the air. When she finished, everypony stood up to give her a standing ovation, and our applause boomed through the skies as she started to shuffle her hooves and blush like her sister Blaze; who was demonstrating her humility as she cheered for her sister.

In the end, the top five performers were called out, and Blaze stood next to her sister as they both waited nervously to hear who the best of the Pegasi was that day. Sadly, I did not qualify to be one of the best, but that was hardly surprising and I was just glad that two of my friends were there by the pedestal; both with a fair chance of winning. The tension in the air was palpable and strangled us as we all waited with baited breath to hear just who the pony that was to be deemed the Best Young Flyer was. After getting the verdict from the three members of the Wonderbolts, Princess Celestia stepped forward and announced the winner.

Of a sudden, the crowd erupted into cheering again as the winner’s name was announced, and the two-tone maned Pegasus became flushed with delight. Spitfire couldn’t believe that she’d won, and the first thing that happened to her after she got her crown-like trophy from the Princess was getting tackled to the ground by her exuberant sister who continually congratulated her. It was nice to see that this didn’t spark anything like a sibling rivalry, but was instead a day that the two of them would probably remember for the rest of their lives.

As the crowd calmed down however, they were given another reason to start cheering by Soarin’, the youngest member of the Wonderbolts. He trotted up to the twins and along with the Captain; they broke the good news to them. They announced that they wanted to have them join the Wonderbolts immediately, and to train them to be two of the best flyers Equestria’s ever seen. A single moment of hushed silence permeated the arena again, but was shortly followed by a blast of noise from the crowd. This was incredible news and it was impossible to find a single pony that wasn’t impressed by what they just heard. Some were a little jealous, but they were all genuinely glad for the two twins.

They never looked happier than then when they heard that they were being recruited into the Wonderbolts, and it was as if their dreams had come true. They were that much closer to achieving their dreams now, and when Carrot and I rushed down to congratulate them, we all collapsed in an embracing heap as the joy took over our bodies and the giggling restricted our breathing. We were a happy mess, but we were in the presence of royalty, so we tried our best to calm down again and stand up straight.

All Princess Celestia said was “congratulations” and things along those lines before she flew away and left. However, we eventually realised the bad side of this joyous occasion. If Spitfire and Blaze were to become full-time members of the Wonderbolts, then they would have to not only drop out of school, but also leave Ponyville. That would mean that our circle of friends would shrink, and that we’d be pulled apart. We didn’t know what to think at the time, and when we went out to dinner after we got back to Ponyville, we had a little debate about what to do.

Carrot Top and I both really wanted them to stay, but we realised that they would be much happier if they were allowed to follow their ambitions and dreams. They didn’t want to leave either because then they’d have to move out, but they also recognised that neither of them wanted a boring, everyday job, and that they both really, really wanted to be one of the Wonderbolts.

In July, they made their decision, and it was to leave Ponyville to pursue a future where everypony knows their names. Sadly, that meant that Carrot and I would have to say goodbye to them, and watch from the ground as they both soared high into the sky. The night they left, Carrot and I were really depressed and we stayed at home by ourselves. In hindsight that probably wasn’t the best way to get over watching some of your best friends move away and realising that you may never get a chance to see them again. But, I couldn’t really complain, since it was nice enough to just know that they were our friends for a while.
A few more days passed, and we were still pretty down in the dumps about Spitfire and Blaze leaving, but it seemed they were as well. I got a postcard from Blaze that basically said that she secretly wanted to thank me for helping her out in her GCSEs, and that she believed she was really lucky to have a friend in me. I felt that I was the privileged one to have known her, but it didn’t matter since we were both really lucky to have a friendship like ours that was so full of magic. I knew how proud she was, so it was probably really hard for her to send me that, and when I saw the tear stains scattered all over the postcard from Cloudsdale, I felt my nose well up with tears again; realising how much I missed them both.

That postcard is one of my most prized possessions, and quite a few of my most memorable belongings were from that one painful summer. Before I could completely recover from the loss of two of my best friends that stuck by me for eight long, gruelling years, I had to suffer the pain of loss again. Just one week before school was supposed to start; my life was instantly changed for the worst.

One morning during that week it started raining, and my mother had some deliveries she needed to urgently make. Just like every other morning, she kissed me on the forehead, looked at me with her gentle green eyes, and ensured me that every new day brought the promise of happiness with it. She then opened the front door and flew out; leaving me alone inside the empty house. That day started off just like any other, but who knew it would be so drastically different.

The hours passed and I was getting really bored and impatient. The rain wasn’t letting up, and I wanted my mother to come home so that we could play a game together like we did when I was really young, but that’s not what happened. Instead, when I went to go prepare lunch, I realised that we were running out of food and that I needed to buy some more provisions. I wasn’t even sure if the marketplace would be open what with all the rain, but I decided to go anyway and see if I could get anything I needed.

On my way, I saw off in the distance, Carrot Top carrying various groceries and getting soaked by the rain as she tried her best to keep her purchases dry. I rushed over to her and greeted her as I offered my wing to keep her head dry as well. She smiled at me and thanked me before she held her head under my appendage and grinned as she trotted alongside me. We chatted for a bit and talked mostly about what we did during the summer when we were apart, but eventually it changed to the subject of our friends.

When we started to talk about Spitfire and Blaze, we started to reminisce about everything we did together when we were younger, and started talking about how we hoped that they could still come by to visit us in Ponyville sometime. That would definitely be nice, but we both realised that they were moving on in life and they were putting their names out there for the entire world to see. If everything panned out like everypony planned, then it would be no surprise if we never got to see them again. It was heart-wrenching thought, but it was something we could begrudgingly live with.

A little while longer down the road, we saw another pony that we recognised, and one that brought a lot of joy to my eyes when I realised who it was. Through the misty air and the torrential rainfall, we could see my mother trotting along the pavement slowly with a newspaper balanced carefully on her head. It was definitely her, since I recognised the mailbag she had strapped onto her back, and I was about to run forward and call out to her; beckoning for her to turn around and see me with Carrot Top.

Before I or my voice could reach her though, the unthinkable happened. It didn’t take any longer than just a few seconds, but it was far too fast for it to all be clear. We were so close to catching up to her, but before she noticed us there, she suddenly spread out her wings and flew into the middle of the road. That was when we realised that there was a taxi-cart coming down the road with a passenger in tow, and that there was a young, white maned Pegasus who was directly in front of the vehicle.

My mother grabbed the young colt and prepared to fly off with him, but no pony could predict what happened next. The cart came into contact with her, and she was sent flying; following the road; still clinging onto the young colt. Carrot and I were filled with fear for the worst and we rushed to her side as fast as we could; narrowly avoiding the oncoming vehicle with the two frightened stallions.

When we got to her, we saw the Pegasus claw his way out of her grip, and as he stared at us with petrified eyes, he ran off into the distance; blurred out by the rain. It was strange at first that he just left so hurriedly, but we weren’t at all concerned about him, and we were more focussed on my mother. She didn’t move at all, and I kept calling out to her, but her ears didn’t even twitch. She couldn’t hear me, and she never would. I didn’t want to believe it, but it was true, and my mother wasn’t there anymore.

I grabbed her body and shook it furiously; begging her to wake up; telling her that it wasn’t funny. It was no use, and there was no response from her. My tears flowed like a river and they poured down onto her features as I held my head over hers and prayed to Celestia that she was alright. She wasn’t even breathing, and when I put a hoof against her neck, I could tell that something vital was missing. That was the last thing that I needed to convince me to accept the truth, and I realised that my mother was dead.

Two days later, Carrot and I both attended the funeral along with a few ponies that we often saw in the background of Ponyville. Even Mayor was there, and she consoled me; telling me that everything was going to be OK. I tried my best to believe that she was right but my cynicism got the best of me and made me sure that everything was as crappy as it could get. The funeral was mundane and I had already used up all my tears, so my eyes were just red and dry as I sat there; gazing at my mother’s peaceful corpse as it lay inside the mahogany coffin.

After the ceremony, my mother’s body was lowered into the Earth and dirt was slowly piled onto the coffin; immersing it and effectively burying it. I stayed for hours after everypony left and even though Carrot Top tried her best to stay by my side and be there for me when I needed her the most, she eventually had to go home because it was too late. A little while after she left, she came back with a blanket and wrapped it around me as I sat in front of my mother’s grave; reading the plain tombstone.

All I could think about was how lucky I was to have such a great friend like Carrot Top, and how much I missed my friends Spitfire and Blaze, since if all my friends were there with me then I’m sure it would have been a lot less painful. But, the one thing that I thought about the most was how much I hated my life for everything that ever went wrong in it and how frustratingly annoying it was that so many bad things could happen to just one pony.

I was insanely jealous of the other ponies that lead perfectly normal and healthy lives with their families, and never had to experience the pain of my loss at such a young age. I thought back to a much happier time in my life when I was about three or four, and when my father was still alive. My mother, and my father were the two ponies that I loved unconditionally, and that I wished I had by my side again in my darkest hour. There was nothing I could do to reclaim the feeling of joy I experienced when I was a little foal, and as I sat there alone, my thoughts eventually brought back to mind the sound of my mother’s voice as she joked with my father and I about our family. “One plus one equals three,” she would always say.

There and then, I realised that life itself was very fragile and was full of change. It was unpredictable and insubstantial, so no matter what we do in life, we would never be remembered forever. But that didn’t matter since all ponies want their name to live on for as long as it can, and they all knew that there is no worse feeling than never trying something they know they want to do. I decided that my life was too short for me to spend too much time wallowing in despair, and that I could easily be with my mother again; but that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted her to be back with me, but I didn’t want to go see her, because then I’d have to give everything up.

If I didn’t take advantage of the gift of life that my parents blessed me with, then I might as well just go and live with them, and never see my old life again; leaving it behind as I live in a world of the past; full of memories and regrets. That wasn’t something I wanted to do, and so I decided that I would try to make the best of my life. As I got up to leave, I let my mind wander again and bring up the image of my mother that day in Cloudsdale when I took part in the Best Young Flyer Competition, and when she cheered for me with all her might. Her serenity and beauty was one thing that I would dearly miss, and as I grimaced at the thought of never seeing her again, I let a tear trail down my cheek before I headed home.

Two years passed by, and I finally graduated from my high school. Every now and then I’d get a postcard from my best friends who had become two of the most renowned members of the Wonderbolts. Spitfire told me about how she had become the Captain, and how happy she was that her life was going so well. Blaze joked around a bit and asked me how I was doing, and how I was feeling about my situation; living alone with no parents; caring for myself as I grew older. I would always tell her that I was fine, and I would always ask her to visit Carrot and me in Ponyville, but the truth is my heart was in a thousand pieces.

After my mother died, something changed about me, and I started to do worse and worse in school. All my teachers were concerned, and I realised that as more time passed my eyes started to cross themselves more often. The other ponies kept laughing at me, and a year before my graduation, Carrot Top had dropped out of school since she wanted to work on her family’s carrot farm, so I was actually alone. That didn’t matter though, and against all odds I kept going and did well enough on my A-levels to be accepted into Canterlot University.

I was so excited, because this meant that I was getting closer to making something of my life, and that with just a little bit more work I could be successful, and prove to everypony that I am not a stupid pony. I was still a blank flank though, and that was really frustrating since even if I proved that I was smart, they could still mock me for my bare bottom, and my lack of talent.

The Summer Holidays came again, and I had my possessions all packed away in anticipation for my leaving for Canterlot. I was really excited, and I couldn’t wait to go there. The thought hadn’t occurred to me at the time that I couldn’t actually afford the tuition for all the years I needed to be there, but I was too preoccupied to be worried by that. In the end though, I decided not to go, so it all turned out for the best.

At first, my reason for not going seemed to be a bad omen, but now I hate myself for ever thinking that, since it was without a doubt the best thing that ever happened to me. A week before I planned to leave for Canterlot, I told Carrot Top about everything that happened to me, and she was over the moon with delight. She was really happy for me, and she said that we needed to celebrate and that we needed to do it right. We couldn’t just have another party to commemorate this occasion, and she said that she knew exactly what we should do.

That night, we went to a club that was in the part of Ponyville that little foals and young ponies never frequented, and we spent hours there surrounded by other ponies; socialising and chatting with them. Time went by slowly, and we started to have a few drinks; getting drunk bit by bit. We got more and more wild as the night went on and we started to casually flirt with the countless ponies around us. Carrot Top became preoccupied with an Earth stallion, so for a moment I was alone at the bar, and I was out of alcohol to drink.

Out of nowhere, a wavy maned Unicorn appeared at my side and offered to buy me some drinks. After I had some, I started to feel really drowsy, but also agitated at the same time, and he led me away from the club, taking me to his home. There, we performed an act that was usually reserved for ponies in love, and we enjoyed it at the time -- despite it being a very inappropriate thing to do with a pony you barely knew at all.

The next morning came accompanied by an intense headache and confusion as I found myself lying in Carrot Top’s bed, with the carrot farmer sprawled on the floor next to me. When we both regained full consciousness, she explained that the stallion I got proactive with carried me back to the club, and that Carrot Top saw him and questioned what he was doing. He said that I’d passed out, then he handed me over to her, and she took me to her home. I thanked her for letting me stay the night, but I was sure that there was something wrong with what I heard.

After that crazy night, I started to feel really weird, and every now and then, I would feel like I was going to throw up. When the day finally came that I was supposed to take the train and head off to Canterlot in anticipation for my matriculation at their University, I arrived at the station late, and missed my train by the smallest of margins. Unfortunately, since I was feeling so bad I couldn’t fly that well, so I decided to just catch a different train.

The next few days came with the frustrating pattern of me constantly forgetting that I needed to leave due to my discomfort, and missing my train. At one point I got so annoyed that I made an attempt at flying but the second I was lifted into the air, my wall-eyes came back and I crashed down; grazing my knees. I told Carrot Top about how uncomfortable I was for the past few days, and she was genuinely concerned about me. She recommended I go see the doctor, so I did, and it was there that I got what I thought was horrible news.

I was forced to inform Canterlot University that I was unable to attend their prestigious colleges, and I instead spent the next ten months in unbearable, physical pain, and intense emotional anguish. Everypony else was convinced that it was a great thing and when I told Spitfire about it, she came back with her sister to see me, and congratulate me. I didn’t think it was worth congratulating though, since I just had to give up the greatest opportunity of my life because of my stupid mistake one night with a smooth-talking Unicorn. I was pregnant, and at the end of those ten months, I gave birth to a healthy, Unicorn foal, with a mane just like my mother’s.

It was horrible at first, and there was nothing more difficult in life than taking care of her; catering to her every need. She would cry at every opportunity and she would constantly remind me of how my life was crashing down again, right after I brought it high up to the heavens. She was ignorant to the world around her and all she could see were smiles and giggles. At the time it made me sick to see her so happy, since she was the reason why I couldn’t achieve what I wanted in life, but I couldn’t do anything to her. That’s just not who I am.

One year later, the pain of everything still remained and she was getting older. I hadn’t even named her yet, since I didn’t want to get too attached to her, but all my friends attacked me with countless different labels for her. I tried to ignore them as best as I could and just focus on raising her as I lamented the fact that I lost my only chance in life to live it to the fullest, and make everypony know that I’m not stupid. Now they would see me with my filly and they would all feel sorry for her for having to have a mother like me. That kind of ridicule was horrible since I always wanted to have a daughter, but I just didn’t want to have one then. It wasn’t the best time.

I took her to my mother’s grave once, and as I cried softly and thought about how my mother loved and cared for me, I saw how her mane resembled my mother’s, and how her gentle coat was exactly the same as hers. That day I started to like her a bit more, since when I was there crying to myself and thinking about much happier times in my life, she raised her hooves up into the air and reached for my face; grabbing it and snuggling into it-- almost as if she was trying to console me. Even if it wasn’t what she meant to do, that’s what I got from her, and that’s how I felt. She couldn’t understand the profound feelings of regret I felt that day, but it didn’t matter to her, and as such it shouldn’t matter to me either.

When we got home, I thought that I should try to entertain her; even if it was with the simplest of household supplies. I got some liquid soap and poured it into a bowl; mixing it with water and letting foam collect at the top as I brought it over to her. Using a fork, I dipped it in, and blew into it; creating a bubble. It started off fine, but in the middle it went wobbly and threatened to pop; yet in the end it disconnected from the fork, and floated through the air as a perfectly spherical bubble.

She saw it and was mystified for a moment as she stared at it with childish wonder in her eyes. It was nice to see her so captivated, and when it popped she burst into a fit of giggles; making it irresistible to copy her, and laugh with her. I blew another and the same thing happened. Amazed silence followed by elated laughter, and the sheer simplicity of the way her mind worked was delightfully refreshing, and made me feel happy like I never had before.

Suddenly, I thought of an idea, and it brought joy to my mind as I entertained the possibility. This scene with me enthralling my filly was the same as when I was younger and my parents would tease me as well with the simplest of things. It reminded me of my parents and how happy we were when we were all together, and how distraught I was when I lost them one by one. Feelings of happiness being followed by despair and grief only led up to the moment when I realised, that my life wasn’t over, and that it was right in front of my eyes; giggling away at the bubbles I blew for her.

She was the one thing that could possibly bring any meaning to my life again, and that was the point that I realised it. She was pure, and untainted; never having experienced pain and suffering like all other ponies. This was my chance, to give somepony everything that my mother gave me, and to pass on my love for her. I still loved my mother, but she wasn’t there anymore, and my filly was. She was going to be the one thing that would push me through the day, and let me see the light of the sun, that promised to bring happiness with it.

I realised how happy my mother felt raising me, and how delighted she was when she watched me grow up, and I wanted to feel the same thing with my daughter. My parents were both dead, and in this world the only pony I had left was her, and she only had me. This wasn’t going to be the perfect family, but that’s not what I wanted, and I just wanted to experience the joys of motherhood that my own mother seemed to love so much. Looking at her as she kept giggling whilst I blew her more bubbles, I finally saw that everypony was right, and that she was incredibly cute.

I remembered a story that my mother told me, about when she and my father decided on my name, and she said that together, they named me Derpy, because ever since I was born I would have wall-eyes, and that they had never seen anything more loveable and adorable than the sight of me when I was a foal. She didn’t have my eyes, but she did have a dumbfounded look about her, and she did seem to be a dink. That was her name, and from that day onwards, I called her Dinky.

I hadn’t even realised, but that night when I put her to sleep, I finally got my Cutie Mark, and it was just a few random bubbles. It was like a hoof to the face and it basically told me that the only thing I’m good at is something completely useless. But, it was just funny, and when Dinky went to sleep, I found myself hoping for a bright and wonderful future for her to experience, and see with her own eyes. A single tear trailed down my features, and fell onto her perfectly peaceful face before I left with a big smile on mine -- exactly like the one my mother showed me every morning.

When Dinky got older, I got a job and I started working as a mailmare. I still had a social life, and I never stopped making friends. I even got to meet Spitfire’s younger brother Fetlock, and I recognised so many of the Wonderbolts. I tried my hardest to raise Dinky as best as I could, and the only indicator I had that I was doing a good job was the way she looked at me with elation in her eyes, and the way she smiled naively at me every morning before I flew off to work and held her high in the air; letting her feel the cool breeze blowing through her mane. But that was enough.

Now, here I am with a grown up daughter; starting to become independent, and no longer needing me around. Every morning I would kiss her on the forehead, and say to her that every day held the promise of happiness; giving her a short hug before she left for school with her friends. This wasn’t the life that I wanted when I was a filly, and this wasn’t the way that I thought that my life would play out, but life is unpredictable. There’s no telling what you’re going to be dealt, and all you can do is make the best of what you have. It didn’t matter anymore that I’d felt so much pain in my life, since I had the opportunity to raise my own daughter, and teach her to see the world not only for the darkness it holds, but also the innate beauty that is in fact everywhere, and even inside each and every pony that she’ll ever meet in her life.