Hi. My name is Eclipse Skies. I’m a pegasus pony and I live in Cloudsdale with my mom and dad and my older brother. I get bullied a lot by the ponies at school. My brother, Cloud Sweeper, would always stand up for me and get the bullies to leave me alone. With my brother, I felt like nothing could go wrong and that everything would always be perfect. But something happened today that I’m sure nopony knows about. I’m writing about it in this letter. I hope whoever finds it can do something about it.
My brother was doing his job clearing the clouds for the day when one of the mean ponies that bullied me deliberately crashed into him and damaged his wing. Cloud Sweeper couldn’t fly very well and he had to land on the nearest tuft of cloud. He stood on the cloud for a moment, flexing his injured wing.
“Cloud Sweeper!” I called from the cloud I was sitting on watching him. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He called back. He tried to lift himself off the cloud, but his wing was too injured to hold him up.
The bully came back and kicked at his wing again. Even from where I was I could hear the bones in Cloud Sweeper’s wing snap. It was a sickening crunch followed by a cry of pain, and I had to look away.
When I looked back the bully was flying circles around him, laughing like an idiot. He kicked the cloud that Cloud Sweeper was on and it poofed away into thin air.
“Cloud Sweeper!!! No!!” I screamed, wishing I could go towards him, and nearly falling of the cloud I was on.
I can hear his screams ringing in my ears even now as I write this. I wanted to go fly after him, but I was too weak because my parents hadn’t been feeding me and I could barely hold myself up with my wings. I called his name and I heard him call back for me before a loud thudding sound came from the ground below.
The bully came after me next, and I had no where to go, I had no pony to protect me. I tried running away, flapping my wings to try to get myself to go faster; but I knew I would never make it away from him. He was so much bigger than me, and stronger. He got to me and kicked at me. His large, strong, powerful back hooves connected with my small, frail wings. He permanently broke both of my wings. I could no longer fly. I had lost both my brother and my ability to fly, the only good things in my life.
After that, I tried making my way back to my home, where my parents were. It took me a while in my weakened state. Tears flooded my vision and pain flared up every time I tried to move my wings. My parents had always hated me. I never understood why they had me, or why they kept me.
I walked into the dark, hazy, smoke covered house that smelled of alcohol. I heard my parents arguing loudly in the other room. I tried to sneak quietly past them to my room, but my dad saw me.
“What are you doing out here?” He screamed at me, brandishing a half full beer bottle.
“I umm…. C-Cloud Sweeper…” I stuttered through tears and pants.
“Don’t blame your problems on your brother!” He yelled, throwing the beer bottle at me. It hit my side and the glass broke, cutting into my skin. The alcohol from inside the bottle splattered all over me, some getting into the newly formed cuts and burning. I flinched but didn’t scream. My eyes stung with more fresh tears. I said nothing else and I hurried into my room.
Once in my room, I lay down on the floor and tried to pull out the bits of glass that were stuck in me. Once the glass was out, more blood flowed out, staining the cloud I was on red, and probably dripping through the cloud onto the ground. I suddenly remembered Cloud Sweeper and started crying again. I tried to stop myself, to keep myself quiet so my father wouldn’t come in after me. I buried my head in my hooves and let the tears flow, but I tried not to let any sound escape my mouth.
I heard my parents start to fight again. I heard my mom scream and the sound of glass hitting something and breaking. I should try to leave and go see a doctor, but my dad wouldn’t like that. There would probably be bullies out, waiting for me, waiting to abuse me. Laughing about what had happened to Cloud Sweeper.
As I sat in my room I thought to myself, “Why would I want to live anymore? The only reason I kept going was because of Cloud Sweeper, and he’s gone now. Why would I want to live with what I have? My life would only get worse from this point on.” So I decided that I would kill myself. That’s why I’m writing this now. I feel like there should be someone who knows what happened to me and my brother. I guess that person will be whoever finds this letter. You.
There is only one problem that stands in my way. I have no method of killing myself. I’m stuck inside this house. If I try to leave I’ll be killed by my father; but I don’t want to die at the hooves of somepony I hated, somepony who hated me.
I suppose I could do as my brother did, and fall to my death. But again, there is the issue of leaving the house. It’s late now, I’m sure my parents are asleep, perhaps I could sneak out and jump off the clouds. I can’t fly anyway, so I would have no chance of saving myself. I’ll figure something out. But for now, I’m going to stop writing, if I hesitate I might change my mind. I hope whoever finds this, probably along with my body, will do something about bullies, and abuse.
You have my thanks.
