Chapters Our main character's story begins on a warm spring day. Birds chirp outside, the sun shines bright, and flowers are in bloom. Inside the wide white doors of Filly Delphia Hospital, a foal is being born. A nervous stallion paces the hallway, frantic at the sounds of his wife's cries of pain. This stallion is soon to be a father, and he prays to sweet Celestia that his beloved's labor goes well. He runs a stone-gray hoof over his frizzy halo of reddish hair, and yawns in anxiety.
He peeks his head through the door frame of the hospital room. The father-to-be steps to the bedside of his wife, and grasps her hoof in his. Her creamy and delicate skin glistens with sweat from the hard work of childbirth, her golden and lilac locks untamed and in a mess. The contracting mare's vivid green eyes are tired and weary from her labor. She looks up with those allurimg green eyes and meets the rosy-hued optics of her husband.
"Lavi, darling..." the stallion coos to his exhausted wife, smiling warmly. "You're doing great. You'll be just fine, I promise." His words are gentle, and he desperately hope that they are true. His childhood sweetheart had stuck with him for over twenty years, despite his short temper, and they had gotten married recently. The stallion loves this mare with all his heart.
"Sir." One of the nurses speaks up, her voice firm and wry. "It's been almost eight hours and the head of the foal has yet to show. We might have to put her on painkillers and proceed with a C Section. There's too much blood."
The worried stallion dares not look past the blanket obscuring the view past his wife's midsection. He knows that the nurse knows what she's talking about.
"Please, ma'am. You've just got to keep her alive. Can you do that?" He pleads, pinkish eyes wide with concern.
"We can try," the nurse offers, and calls more assistants over.
"Listen, Lavender." The stallion turns to his wife. "Sweetheart, you're bleeding very badly. Soon you won't have the faintest idea of what's going on, because of the medication. But please, hang in there. For me; for our child!"
"Copper..." The poor mare's voice is raspy and shaky. "I love you."
As the nurses urge him out of the room to proceed with the operation, Copper Key locks eyes with Lavish Lavender once more. He does not know it at that exact moment, but it is the last time he will ever look into those eyes- alive, at least- again.
Beeeeep. That droning flat note, the line going flat on the heart monitor, ends his world. His wife, his beautiful and young love, is dead. Copper's jaw drops in horror, the whites of his eyes showing as he peers into the doorway. Tears gather into his eyes when he sees the blood, the flat green line on the monitor, and Lavender's limp body growing cold on the hospital bed.
He does not hear the cries of a wailing foal; if he does, he ignores it. For he does not care that a beautiful little filly was born just now. All he cares about is his beloved wife.
"You!" He practically roars, trying to struggle past the bodies of nurses barricading him from the baby. "You killed her! You little monster! I hate you! I wish you'd never been conceived!" The harsh words roll from his mouth as he spews with anger and grief.
Of course, the newborn does not know the meaning of these words, but the loudness of his voice causes her to cry harder nonetheless. She has been washed and swaddled in a fluffy pink blanket, stats taken and shots received. Her eyes are sealed tightly, her pale gray face wrinkled into an upset scour. Her pink tongue lolls out as she opens her mouth to release another wail.
Copper Key is removed from the room, as his violent outrage has caused an upset. He is told to wait until he can calm down and sign the papers for his new daughter. He angrily pouts in the hallway. He does not want to sign the papers. He does not want the child who killed his wife. But something causes him to stride in with an icy calm and sign the birth certificate. He will keep the filly, because he knows his wife would have it so. He also gives the baby the name Lavender had dreamed of naming a little girl. He picks up the pen between his teeth and scribbles the name onto the document:
Marigold Valley
A young filly opens her naturally thick-lashed eyes, a pallet of pink hues, to another morning of her existence. She yawns groggily and her eyelids flutter for a few seconds, her body's response to rousing from sleep. The filly lifts her light gray hooves above her head in a luxurious stretch. She hoists her body out of her bed- or rather cot of some sort- and stands for a moment, taking in her surroundings.
"Ah- Ah- choo!" She exhales in a short and high-pitched sneeze. "It's too dusty in here..."
As the child approaches an old and splintery wooden vanity set, she catches her reflection in the badly cracked mirror. Her hair, the color of butter and lilacs, is a nest of tangles and knots. Her face, a pale gray the color of a cloud in the midst of expelling a light rain, has a sprinkling of dark freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her symmetrical cheeks have a light pink blush to them, either naturally or from the heat of the thick comforter that she swathed herself in to keep out the frigid air of her tiny room (most likely the latter).
The filly reaches into a drawer in the vanity set that is stuck half open, and grasps a brush handle with her teeth, which she uses to smooth out her mane. She then proceeds to brush out her tail as well, and then is content with her appearance. The young pony is about to walk upstairs to get something to eat, when she notices her calendar that is hung right on the wall prior to the stairway. The calendar is pinned open to August, and the filly's eyes widen when her eyes fall on today's date: August the 5th. It is circled with a red marker and marked with the words: FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!
"Sweet Celestia, I forgot!" The young pony exclaims, and rushes upstairs and away from her cold bedroom in the basement of her small home.
When the filly speeds into her father's bedroom, which lies a hallway down from the tiny living room, she trips over a broken bottle of Jack Daniel's Whiskey. She gasps in pain when her hoof is sliced open, gushing sticky blood. She lets out a pained scream.
"Holy shhhh-"
Suddenly, a voice booms, "Marigold? What the h- You stupid filly, why don't you look where you trot?!"
"Daddy, I need a bandage or something!" Marigold Valley whips back, staring desperately at her father for help.
Copper Key's eyes, which were slightly darker than his daughter's, were bloodshot. A stubble spread across his chin and over his upper lip, the color of salt and pepper. His curly auburn hair was receding, and he appeared to be in ill health. This was due to drinking, which he did very often.
"Calm down, would you?" He yells, and with no sign of concern or hurry, retrieves a roll of gauze from the medical cabinet. He tosses it at her, and she quickly wraps her bleeding leg with it.
"Clean your bloody mess up. I don't want the wood to get stained." Copper orders.
"I will," Marigold says. Under her breath she mutters, "If your friend Jack weren't in my way, this wouldn't have happened."
"What's that?!" Copper turns to her, snarling.
"I didn't say anything, Daddy!" Marigold smiles sweetly, faking innocence.
"You little brat, we both know you did." He raises his hoof to give her a hit on the mouth, and she bats his hoof away in fear.
Copper seizes her hoof in anger. "Don't push me away! When you deserve a smack, I'll give you a smack!"
"But you don't have to hit me!" The young filly retorts, both fear and anger shining in her pink-hued optics.
"I'm your father! You don't get to decide what you deserve!" And the colt gives the cowering filly a hit on the jaw.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I won't disobey you again, I promise!" Marigold fumbles, trying to appeal to him. "It's the first day of school for me, you know... We haven't even bought my supplies."
"Use the ones from last year," Copper sighs. "You're in third grade now, right?"
"Fourth."
"Fourth? Thought it was third?"
"No, it's fourth, Daddy. I'm in fourth grade."
"But you're only eight years old..."
"I'm ten, Daddy. I turned ten in February." Marigold lets out a short sigh.
"Huh." He grunts.
That proves just how much he pays attention to me , thinks Marigold.
"Well, you'll just have to borrow supplies today. You should have told me earlier on," Copper shrugs.
"But Daddy, I did tell you!" Marigold Valley protests, then shakes her head. "Never mind. I will borrow some stuff today... But could you please take me out to get supplies later?" She looks up hopefully.
"I'll give you some bits and you can go to the market to see what you can get," her father replies.
"Thank you, Daddy!" Marigold beams, happy that he gave in. He is usually much more difficult.
Marigold trots to the kitchen to find some breakfast. Eyeing the clock on the wall, she sees that school had actually started about ten minutes ago. She grabs an apple and gulps it down, then hurries out the door to catch a bus or something, as school is a good half hour away from her home by vehicle.
As she wonders what schedule Baltimare Bus Lines follows, Marigold bites her bottom lip nervously. What will everypony think of her when she arrives late? Just then, a yellow and black taxi rolls past her.
"Wait!" The filly exclaims, waving her hooves.
The colt behind the wheel of the cab stops short and backs up.
"Need a ride, Miss?" He asks, eyeing her.
"Yes, please! I'm so glad I caught you..." And with that, Marigold opens the door and hops in.
"Where to, Miss?" The driver questions, looking back at her.
"Baltimare Elementary School for the Public, please!" Marigold says politely, and the car speeds off.
The awkward silence between the driver and the filly leaves Marigold fidgeting in the leather seats. The drive is long, but then again, Marigold never travels much. About half an hour later, the taxi driver drops Marigold off at her destination.
"That will be three bits, please." The driver smiles and holds out a hoof.
"Oh!" Marigold gasps, face-hoofing herself. "I didn't even think of that! I'm so sorry, sir... I don't have any money on me."
The cab driver is obviously upset by this. After all, nopony just does a job for free.
"You should've thought about that, young lady," the driver sighs, rubbing his temple. "I'll tell you what, though. You're young and probably in a hurry. I'll let you off the hook this time, but if you come across me again, don't expect me to chauffeur you around without a price." He says sternly, and steps on the gas to be on his way.
"Thank you!" Marigold calls after him, and turns to look at the building of her school.
The walls are red brick, and the roof appears to be dark metal. There are some windows lining the exteriors, through which one can see the classrooms. There is a bus loop and a narrow path leading into a suburban area. Marigold trots up the cement steps and opens the glass doors. She steps inside and heads to the office to check in. She knows the school, for she had gone here since kindergarten.
When she walks into the office, two mares are each at their own desk, tending to paperwork and dealing with phone calls. Two younger ponies, children (and probably fifth graders), are leaning against the smooth black counter-top, presumably office aids.
"Good morning!" One of them says, a young colt with toffee-colored skin and a short black mane and tail. "How can I help you?"
"I need to check in," replies Marigold, and walks up to the desk where there is a sign-in sheet.
"You need a parent when checking in a considerable time after the beginning of classes," the office aid says. "Do you have a parent with you?"
"No. Sorry."
"Well would you like to make a phone call?"
"We don't have a phone."
"Oh," sighs the young colt. "Mrs. Pennyworth? What do I do about a tardy student with no parent to check in with?"
An elderly mare looks up. She has pale skin and silver hair, with milky blue eyes rimmed with dark spectacles. She purses her lips for a moment, before replying: "I suppose she'll just have to check herself in. But it will be in her record."
"Yes Ma'am," the office aid nods, and gestures towards Marigold to sign herself in.
After signing her name and jotting down the date and time with a black pen, Marigold tells the aid her name so he can give her a yellow tardy slip. She looks it over and sees that it is checked as "unexcused".
"Thanks," she says, and asks for a copy of her schedule. The aid gladly gives her one and she trots out of the office.
"What's my first class?" She asks herself, and looks down at the schedule. She gets her answer when she looks at it:
FIRST HOUR- MATH- MR. ARITHMUS
Marigold sighs. She hates math.
"Well," she mutters. "I better get to class."
The filly peeps through the small square of glass that serves as a little window on the wooden door to Marigold's first class. This year, she will have four classes. This four-class schedule will proceed until sixth grade, where she will then be introduced to a seven-class agenda. Knowing this from ponies who discussed it, she hates it even more because she knows her classes are longer than middle-school hours due to the four-class schedule.
Marigold tries the door with a hoof, pressing down on the handle. This is to no avail, for the door is locked. Blushing with embarrassment, for she is a whole forty or so minutes late, she is force to knock on the wood, which creates an interrupting sound. Seconds later, a grown stallion opens the door with a strange expression, obviously not enthused. This was Mister Arithmus.
"Ah. I see you've a tardy slip, Miss..."
The gray-bodied filly handed him the slip, which the teacher then scans over.
"...Marigold Valley," he finishes his previous sentence. "So, you've decided to join us! How gracious of you."
"Oh no!" Exclaims the professor sarcastically, leading the filly into the room. The class, hearing all of this, breaks into mutters and snickers.
"Quiet, class!" Mr. Arithmus orders. "Marigold here has been through hectic times to get here! Why, she has no time to fuss over schedules and tardiness. So, therefore, she should not be ridiculed for this very minor mistake! To your seat, Miss Marigold! We are warming up with some simple equations. Paper and pencil would be advised."
"Sir," Marigold says, pride shot at this point. "I haven't got supplies."
"Terribly sorry. There's a seat in the back for you, and maybe you could manage to scrape by and borrow supplies?" The teacher replies, with no care implied whatsoever.
Marigold hurries to her seat, quickly dashing between an aisle between desks. But she is tripped for the second time today, this time by a pale blue hoof. She winces and yells in pain, for the hoof struck is the bandaged one with lacerations from the broken whiskey bottle earlier.
Laughs ring out, exploding in Marigold's ears. Tears well in her eyes, and she wipes them away.
"I said," Mr. Arithmus sighs, "To your seat."
"Y- Yes sir..." Marigold submits. She trots sullenly and plants her bottom in the very back row.
The young filly looks to her left, where a peach-colored colt scribbles down answers to equations on his parchment.
"Excuse me..." Marigold whispers. "But may I borrow a pencil, please?"
"Haven't you got your own?" The colt sneers.
"No... My father is sending me to the market this evening to get some... I've reminded him, but he hasn't done it yet."
"Whatever," he snorts. "Just take a pencil and leave me alone. No surprise you've forgotten supplies... You trip over your own hooves!"
"Hey!" Marigold protests. "That blue filly over there tripped me! It wasn't my fault!"
"Miss Marigold Valley!" The teacher raises his voice, and more giggles erupt from the class. "For the second- or was it third- time today, you have interrupted my mathematics session. Do you need to see Principal Weeks, or can you shut your muzzle and participate in class activities?!"
"Sorry sir!" Marigold pipes. She lets out an irritated sigh when the orange colt sitting next to her jabs her with a pencil.
"You needed one, didn't you?" He snickers, tossing the pencil at her shoulder.
"Th- Thank you, I think?" Marigold groans and retrieves the pencil.
"Oh, you're very welcome!" The colt replies with sarcasm.
As soon as Marigold finishes one side of the assignment, turning it over, the bell rings for next period. She hands her paper to the teacher, who looks it over.
"Only one side's finished," Mr. Arithmus remarks.
"Yes, I didn't have time to complete it, sir."
"Then take it home for homework. Everyone else has finished, because they were on time. Have fun with that paper, sweetheart." He smiles, shaking his head.
"Ugh. Okay, sir." Marigold replies grumpily, heading out the door.
"And dial down the attitude, while you're at it, Marigold!" Mr. Arithmus calls out. This gains another round of laughter.
"What a dummy!"
"Is she normally that idiotic?"
"Can't she even try to be normal?!"
"What a giant joke!"
Hearing these remarks, Marigold wipes her tears with a hoof. Clutching the homework in her muzzle, she makes it to second hour with streaks on her stone-gray cheeks. Walking into room 107, she nods to others.
"Um... Hello?" A male teacher looks down at the filly. "What do you need, ma'am? I'm in the middle of teaching a lesson here..."
"Oh! This is room 107..." Marigold sighs, looking at the panel that shows the room number, blushing vibrantly. "I was supposed to go to room 108... Please excuse my mistake!"
"No problem, honey. First days can be rough!"
Under her breath, Marigold mutters: "Tell me about it..."
With that, Marigold exits the room and goes next door, where she barely makes it on time for second period.
Just as the bell rings, Marigold seats herself in the very back of her next class. She figures that if nobody sees her, she won't be made fun of any more than she already has. Her second class is Science with Mrs. Scientia. The teacher appears normal enough, a plump mare with a magenta body and short, straight hair with streaks of gray blending in with her light cherry-blossom colored locks. Her eyes consist of calm, soft ocean blue colors.
"Hello, class!" Mrs. Scientia calls out cheerily, proceeding with roll call.
When her name is said aloud, Marigold raises a gray hoof and says quietly: "Here..."
The filly next to her looks eager to learn. Her mane and tail are smooth and rounded, like leaves. The color of her mane is the same as magnolia leaves, her body a light green hue. On her face there rest two radiant optics, all in green hues. She has black, squarish glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.
Marigold gives the green pony a friendly smile.
"Hi!" The filly beams, waving excitedly. "I'm Herbal Essence! I want to be an herbalist when I grow up! It's obviously my destiny..." She rambles on, nodding towards her flank. On that flank there is a cutie mark. It appears to be a mortar and pestle, with some kind of leaves nestled in the bowl of the mortar.
"I'm Marigold Valley." Marigold replies.
"Ooh! Your name is plant related as well... Do you want to be an herbalist, too?"
"I dunno yet..." Marigold states. "All I know is that my mother wanted to name me Marigold Valley. She was a florist..."
"Cool! Well, we better pay attention! Science is my favorite subject!" She dragged out the 'favorite' a bit.
"I can tell." Marigold giggles, picking up the pencil that she was bombarded with in the previous class.
Mrs. Scientia smiles down on her classroom.
"Today," The teacher speaks, "We will just be getting to know each other a bit. Maybe watch a few short science-related videos."
The classroom heaves a sigh of relief. At least they wouldn't have homework from this particular class.
"You can move around and talk, just not too loud!" Mrs. Scientia smiles.
The class moves around and talks. It gets a bit too loud. The teacher doesn't seem to mind. Probably because it is just the first day.
"Anyways," Essence, the green filly, perks back up. "What do you do for fun? What's your favorite color? Favorite animal? Favorite Food..."
Marigold grins, happy that at least one person wants to talk to her.
Marigold opens her mouth and says, "I like reading or going to the public theater to watch ponies rehearsing... I like purple and yellow. I suppose dogs and cats are my favorite animals. I enjoy a good strawberry and poppy seed salad... Not that I get to eat very heavy. My dad hasn't worked for years now..."
"Oh," Herbal Essence looks up. "Why hasn't he worked? He does have a special talent, right?"
"Well, yes..." Marigold answers. "He was a locksmith. But he was fired a few years after I was born. He started drinking and it affected his career..."
"Wow... Well, I hope it gets better!" Essence offers.
Marigold is surprised at how much she is opening up. But she thinks that she might as well be honest in her first friendship.
Just as she is about to ask Herbal about her parents, a pale blue filly walks up to the pair. It's the same filly who'd tripped Marigold in her last hour.
"Oh, hey! It's the pony who came in late, with no supplies, and couldn't walk straight!" She laughs in a shrill, patronizing tone.
"You tripped me!" Marigold shouts.
"Liar! I did not!" The bully snaps back.
"Oh, shut up, Pacific!" Herbal Essence chimes in. "Stop being such a bully!"
"Says the filly who bragged about her cutie mark all through last year!"
"I didn't brag! I was just excited!"
Then, Mrs. Scientia steps in. " Marigold Valley, Herbal Essence, and Blue Pacific! I am surprised! Arguing on the first day of school? Unacceptable! Break it up, now!"
"Yes, Ma'am!" Marigold whispers.
Pacific sneers and walks away to a group of other ponies, giggling and whispering while throwing glances at Marigold once in a while.
For the rest of the class duration, they watch cool videos about volcanoes, oceans, earthquakes, and other stuff. When the bell rings, Marigold looks at her schedule and sees that her next hour is lunch. What a relief.
It is now Marigold's Summer break. Eighth grade is over for her. Ever since that first day of school, the young pony has been made fun of for her clumsiness and hot temper, and the fact that she is poor. Her father still has yet to sober up, and she takes care of him as his health weakens. Herbal Essence, the green unicorn that Marigold had met on the first day of fourth grade, is her best friend; her only friend.
Marigold rubs her eyes as she wakes up in her room, the basement. She quickly brushes her mane and tail and brushes her teeth. Marigold then trots upstairs where Copper, her father, is laying on the couch with a yellow mare draped over his body. Marigold had to suffer through the noises that the two had made last night, until finally falling asleep. The stench of alcohol and smoke wafted through the air.
Quietly, Marigold steps out of the house, and trots to her job. She is fourteen years old now, and since not many jobs were given to young teens, she had to settle for a job at a fast food restaurant called Gardenia's. Her boss is kind, and she works alongside Essence, who had also applied for the job about a week before school had let out. It is Wednesday, and Herbal Essence has been sick for a while. It is now ten o' clock, which means Marigold has to tend to the register alone for two hours until someone shows up for their shift.
That is not a problem, though. Gardenia's is a popular place to eat, but Marigold is efficient with her job and has no trouble with her work. She gets paid seven dollars and twenty-five cents an hour at her job, and her payday is every Friday. Hollywood has been saving up money for the past few years. It started in fifth grade, when she offered tutoring in English for two dollars a day. Many kids had just paid her to do their work for them, but she hadn't cared, since it was money either way. She had gradually started doing things for ponies, and now she has saved up to over two hundred dollars. It may not seem to be a lot to others, but to Marigold, she has a fortune.
Marigold cheerily tends to demanding customers for two hours until Herbal Essence walks in with a smile on her face. Many customers are extremely rude to others in Baltimare, but Marigold is used to bad treatment from her father so it does not bother her too much.
"Essie!" Marigold exclaims as she hugs Herbal Essence.
"Goldie!" Herbal whinnies in glee as she hugs even tighter. Herbal Essence has a lot of energy, and can get annoying sometimes, but Marigold would not trade her for anypony else.
"How are you? I haven't seen you for weeks, since school let out, Goldie," Essence smiles as she clocks in and puts on her Gardenia's T-shirt.
"Oh, same old same old...." Marigold replies quietly. "I can't wait to catch up later."
The two friends work their shift until three o' clock. They then clock out and leave the restaurant. The two decide to go to the park to catch up.
"So, anything new?" Herbal Essence asks.
Marigold nods. "I joined a Drama Club recently. They meet every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday. I go every chance I get."
"How's your old man doing? Is he still..." Herbal trails off awkwardly, not wanting to offend her friend.
"Drunk as a fish in polluted water? Yup. Found him lying with some mare this morning, another one night stand. I wouldn't be surprised if I have some half-siblings out there somewhere." Marigold chuckles lightly, trying not to get too dreary on the subject.
"Well, anyways," Herbal Essence shifts the topic. "I'd like to see your Drama Club perform... Any shows coming up?"
"Yeah. There are showings of Alice in Wonderland every night next week from five to six in the evening. You should come. I'm playing Alice!" Marigold smiles with excitement.
"Of course I will! It's been great seeing you, Goldie!" Essence nuzzles her friend. "I'll see you tomorrow at work, okay?"
"Yeah! See ya..." Marigold smiles as she walks home. Right when she walks in the door, she heads to her bedroom and falls asleep.
It is the day of the first showing of Alice in Wonderland at Marigold's drama club. She smiles as she looks at herself in the mirror, adding a bit of mascara to her already full eyelashes. She smooths down her blue dress and makes sure that her boots and stockings are on tight. Marigold straightens the black bow on the back of her mane with her hooves. She wishes for a moment that she were a unicorn. It would have made things so much easier.
"I'll be fine!" The fourteen-year-old filly whispered to herself. "You've been rehearsing for weeks! You know the lines like the back of your hoof, Goldie!"
She hears the signal. It is show time. She steps out onto the stage and waits for the narrator (played by a colt named Ace) to finish his small monologue. She takes a deep breath, making sure to keep in character as she says her first line.
"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense." Marigold stated in a proper accent.
Lacey, the cat who had been trained to play the role of Dinah, let out a meow on cue from her owner backstage.
Marigold smiles, looking pointedly at the feline. "In my world, you wouldn't say 'meow'. You'd say 'Yes, miss Alice'"
The cat let out another mew.
"Oh," She says, "but you would! You'd be just like people, Dinah, and all the other animals too. Why, in my world..."
The audience went hushed as Marigold began to sing. She had a beautiful voice, melodic and soft.
She sang of a magical wonderland where the flowers had special powers, and animals were peculiar and wondrous.
The show goes on, and every time Marigold says a line, the crowd feels her emotions alongside her. Herbal Essence is in the front seat, smiling up at her best friend.
At the very end of the show, the cast bows in front of the audience. When Marigold Valley does a small curtsy, the crowd goes wild. Cheers can be heard from throughout the theater. At that moment, Marigold's flank goes alight with a golden glow. She feels a sudden warmth spread through her, and when she opens her eyes from the sweet feeling, the crowd gasps. Herbal Essence shouts out from the front row.
"Goldie! Your flank! Look at your flank!"
Marigold does so, and tears of liquid pride stream down her cheeks. She has gotten her cutie mark! It appears to be a mini golden statue of some sort, with a pony rearing up on a stand. Marigold knows what it is immediately. It is the Oscars Award, the highest achievement of an actor or actress's career. She had learned about it in her drama club. And even though she had not won such an award, she knows that this cutie mark can only mean great things.
"Thank you, everyone, really! I've gotta go now..." Marigold smiles and waves as she gallops towards her home.
"Daddy! Daddy!" She whinnies in glee. "I got my cutie mark! I got my-" She stops when she sees the sight. Her father is laying on the floor, dead, bullet holes piercing his chest and blood trickling down his head.