Minor Turbulence

Minor Turbulence Part 1: Troubled Past

Chapter: 1 The Step

By: Midway Bridge

Before I talk about the day of my life started to suck less, I would like to regale you with the story that leads up to it.   I'd like to say it was a cheerful upbringing; one that everypony seems to have.

I'd like to say that.

I could tell you that I had a family with a loving; beautiful mom and a hard working kind dad, but that would be a lie and an insult to your intelligence.  I like to think you are smart enough to see though my horrible lying skills so don’t deny me that.

I was an orphan.  If you’re getting that sort of achy feeling in your heart after learning that little tidbit, that would be pity.  It's always the first feeling that most others get when I tell them that.  Don't pity me.  I hate it.   That's why I don't tell too many others about how I came to be.  If you never felt that achy feeling then either you're laughing at my pains or I'm starting to rub off on you.  Either way kudos to you.  I don’t really know you or if you even exist but here goes the true story of me, (mostly) unabridged and uncut.

It started when I was a nameless little tyke left on the steps of an orphanage.  While I don't exactly remember the day at all, it marked the beginning of the problems for me, which seem to follow me for the rest if my life.

Most of the kids in the orphanage where there because their parents died and they had no close relatives that were able to care for them, but I was one of the few kids who was abandoned.  Yes, my mother and father left me in that hellhole called "Mrs. Delight's Orphanage for the Misfortunate." They didn't even care to give me a name.  I hope they had a good reason for it.  Maybe they were too poor to afford a kid.  Maybe they had to go on a secret mission to save Equestria.  Now I know better, they were ashamed to have a bastard son like me.

I was called Stormy Weather because the night I arrived was during a horrible thunderstorm going on.  Since it was raining torrents and booming thunder I wasn't discovered until the storm dissipated after the Emergency Weather Teams cleared it up.  Although I didn't particularly like my name it was given to me by Ms. Sunshine and so it held a bit of value to me.  She was the kindest and most caring pony I have only met and the only one who I actually grew fond of, or allowed to call me Stormy.  She was like family to me.  Around when I was 6 Ms. Sunshine went back to school.  In her absence, Mrs. Delight hired a new teacher to run the class.  The teacher was okay but Mrs. Delight wasn't.  She is definitely second on my list for most misleading names (#1 belonging to Steely Balls but that’s another story).  If I had to sum her up in one word the first word that comes to mind is "Bitch," but that barely even describes the resentment I had for her.

She would put on this mask of lies and smiles for officials and potential foster parents, but her smiles weren't sincere and we all knew it.  She would ask us to clean stuff of hers or to do meaningless tasks.  She would have whomever was unfortunate enough that day to move the filing cabinets around or to rearrange the furniture only to ask someone else to put it back the way it was.  If she was in a foul mood she would punish harmless pranks (usually mine) with time in the "Shed." To those who don't know, calling it a shed implies that there is room.  In the small confined space there wasn't even enough room to think.  Since I am the mischievous sort, I spent more time in the shed than everyone else combined.  I used to keep track of the number of hours I spent in there a year but I lost track after two hundred-fifty something.  I liked the shed.  It gave me time away from everyone else and their problems.

I prayed like hell to Celestia every day that my parents would swoop down from the skies and save me from that horrible place.  They never came.  It was my sixth year at the orphanage when I realized they wouldn't come for me.  That epiphany hit me like a ton of bricks.  Since then I never thought of my parents in an endearing way, usually now I think of colorful adjectives to describe them.

Around when I was five or six the school teacher quit.  Afterwards there were a few days of pure anarchy and chaos which was a complete blast. After the dust settled we got a new teacher.  Miss Sunshine came back from her college and had a degree in education.

I didn't get to meet her when classes started due to me being in the shed for the entire week for the havoc I wreaked the days prior. When I was finally let out I was so happy to see Ms. Sunshine again I practically cried.  Of course I didn’t because that would ruin what little reputation I had.

From that point on I would only do the pranks for one reason, to get time with Ms. Sunshine.  Since she was always encumbered with the needs and wants of others I never get to spend a lot of free time with her without everyone else nagging or prattling with her about useless things.  I liked her a lot and I knew she liked me too, and that was a wonderful thought.  There just wasn't enough time for Ms. Sunshine to spend with me; after all she handled the orphanages classroom.  I would usually sit in the front row, not because I liked to see the board or liked school; honestly I didn't fare so well in it, math and science made my head hurt, while social studies and language arts seemed like a pointless waste.  I wanted to talk with Ms. Sunshine as often as I could.  I'd raise my hoof to ask questions I already knew, and answer questions I hadn't the faintest idea about.  All to just get some time with her.

When ever I set off a firecracker in class, put fake eyeballs in someone’s soup, or whatever I concocted for that day, she would take me aside and say.

"What made you do it this time?" She'd give me a look that was a mixture of disappointment and unfulfilled expectations.  I hated that look but after a while it felt comforting; It meant that she actually cared about me, and that made me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

I know what you’re thinking, "That's not how to get her attention properly!" You'd be right, but explain that to a kid who never felt that kind of care before.  That feeling is perhaps more intoxicating and addictive than anything else in the world (and I drink coffee).

One day after a good old fashioned prank of blue dye in someone’s toothpaste Ms. Sunshine asked me to come to the classroom after hours.

"Stormy?" she asked.   I looked away avoiding the disappointed look.  "Stormy look at me, please."

"Yes?"

"What's gotten into you?  You’re always playing these awful pranks and tricks that hurt your friends-"

"I don't have friends," I interrupted.  "There’s only ponies I tolerate more and hate less."

"Really?" She looked worried.  "Well I'm your friend." She smiled.  "But

"Ms. Sunshine do you love me?"

"Yes, I love all of my students."

That answer annoyed me.  How could one pony like all of us?  It doesn't make sense; they're all so stupid and selfish I have a hard enough time trying to like myself around them.   I wanted to be different than the rest, but I also wanted to be just a “normal kid”.  Her normal kid  Then I hit her with the hardest question I could ever ask her and I still regret it to this day.

"If you love me, why won't you adopt me?"

She wasn't prepared for that question.  She just sat there in shocked silence trying to collect her thoughts.  "Well… I- um, it's difficult to understand."

"What's difficult to understand? What am I doing wrong?” I demanded.

"Stormy…"

"What do I have to do to?"

"Stormy-"

"What is it that makes you-"

"Stormy listen please.  I love you with all my heart, I really do want to adopt you, but think of the others."

"What about them?"

"If I adopt you then the others feel horribly left out.  I can't destroy their hopes, and I can't adopt them all."

"Who cares about them?!" I bursted out angrily.  "They'll all get to walk out with new parents eventually.  I've watched them leave with families all of the time, it's about time they see what I see."

"Shame on you Stormy.  I'm completely appalled at your selfishness.  They watch just as often as you do the others who walk away with families, some of them have been seeing it their entire life and have been here for more years than you.  Think about Blues, he’s been here for sixteen years.  All of his friends now have families except him.  He's been here for 5 more years than you and in 2 years he is no longer under our legal jurisdiction and that thought scares him.  Were you aware he even attempted to commit suicide once?"

I sunk down into my chair.  Ms. Sunshine never raised her voice at me like this.  It's scary being yelled at by others, but it's terrifying when getting yelled at by someone you love.  If I had to shrivel up and die right then and there, I think I’d be content with that.  "I'm sorry…"

She calmed down a bit when she noticed I was cowering down in my seat. "Stormy you're not a bad kid… I know that somepony else will see you the way I do."

"May I be excused?" I asked suddenly.  I didn’t mean to but I had a wicked sad puppy face at the time, you know the sort that they put into cartoons with the big eyes and stuff.

She sighed defeated by my pathetic and seemingly innocuous display. "Yes, but don't cause any more trouble."

I left without another word.  I felt like crap for the rest of that night.  I remember I didn't sleep well either.  The fact that Blues got adopted the week later didn't improve my mood that much either.

I sat in the back of the classroom for a very long time after that conversation.  I didn't want to disappoint her again.  I couldn't take it.  I was unnaturally silent and didn't involve myself in class.  The others caught on pretty quickly about what transpired that night.  Word spread like wildfire here, everypony knew everything about everypony else.  Nothing is private.  Little snots never knew how to keep their noses in their own business.

Other ponies' things would disappear and somehow make it into my possession.  I would constantly belittle my peers, even though most of the time I was half their size.  I never however started fights.  Frankly speaking, I hated the thought of inflicting physical pain.  Sure poking fun of ponies wasn't out of question, nor was petty thievery or blackmail, but direct confrontations weren't my sort of thing.

So when I started to get on the nerves of the wrong crowd, I became the subject of a bully.  Since he was 4 years and 100 lbs my senior we got into some pretty one sided fights.  Now when the fight came to me, sure I would slug it out, but no matter how hard they would hit me or how much pain I was in, I would pull my punches back.  I couldn't help it.  I knew I could take a hit, but could they?  I never had the courage to find out how much pain I could cause.

Call me a wuss or whatever you want.  I don’t care.  I think of myself as the bigger stallion.  The bigger stallion who was trapped in a small body in a cruel world.  I toughed through the rest of my years there making it day by day, week by week.  I'm weaker than them, in body mind and soul.  One thing I learned in the orphanage stuck with me; if you harden your heart to others it can't be broken.  So that's exactly how I lived my life from that point on, no friends, no family, just me and my angry thoughts against the world.

I was 11 when they decided to send me off with the rest of the pegasai to the Cloudsdale Summer Flight Camp.  Summer Flight Camp was a good place for me.  I met a lot of different ponies there.  I think I could have made friends if I tried.  What I appreciated most was I could start all over again, be anything I wanted.  So in light of that, I decided I wanted to be the best flier.  Something that Rainbow Dash already had her sights on.  Two pegasai can't be the best.  There can only be one.  The winner gets it all and the loser gets cast down under the heap of forgotten names.  No one remembers who comes in second of a race.

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Disclaimer: I am not Laruen Faust incognito, and henceforth I do not own MLP: Friendship is Magic. I make no claim for Hasbro’s characters or world. I am just a humble fan fiction writer, nothing more.  Please leave your questions, comments, and constructive criticism in the comments below so I can better myself as a writer and enhance your experience as a reader.