Malt Memories

Hi, I'm Berry Punch. You already knew that though, didn't you? Of course you do. Everypony in Ponyville knows the infamous Berry Punch. I'm well aware that I have quite the reputation. That reputation being the town drunk. Again, I'm sure you already knew that. You may be wondering why presently, I am able to speak so clearly and fluently. Well, you happen to have caught me at an unusual time. I'm talking about being between drinks, in case you didn't get the joke. You weren't laughing, so I just figured-

I'm surprised you haven't just dismissed what I've been saying so far; most ponies just roll their eyes at my ramblings and walk off, mumbling something about me not being worth their precious time. You're still listening though, so I guess that makes you the closest thing I have to a friend right now. I'm sure that doesn't sound like much consolation, but its gotta count for something, right?

I remember when I was young. I had lots of friends then. I was always one of the popular fillies, the colts were always chasing after me. At the time, I had thought it was just because I was such a nice, sweet little filly. It wasn't until a few years later that I realized I was only popular because I was the 'prettiest filly in school', as I would always hear. Not that it was a bad thing necessarily. I mean, who wouldn't want to be wined and dined from week to week?

It was a fleeting happiness while it lasted. As I got older, I sort of realized I wasn't exactly into colts. You know what I mean by that, don't you? At first, I thought it was just a phase. At least, that was what my parents kept insisting. My mom was always supportive of it, of course. We didn't talk as much as we used to after I told her, though. I didn't mind at the time; after all, I was a little too busy hanging out with friends to notice. I think she was just trying to keep quiet about the fact that it made her uncomfortable. I suspected she was just hoping that eventually I would get over it, and things would go back to the way they were. It doesn't bother me that she thought that way, though. She let me have my space and make my own decisions, and that is all I could've asked for, right?

My father on the other hand, wasn't quite so accepting. When I first told him I was a- y'know- a fillyfooler, well he just laughed. He honestly thought I was just making a joke. To this day I don't think he was physically capable of believing what he was hearing at the time. Things got worse when I brought my first fillyfriend home. I didn't make it halfway through the front door before my father started yelling at me. As far as he was considered, his daughter didn't exist anymore; that the little filly he raised was just a figment of his imagination, and I was just a stranger standing in his doorway with her friend.

I moved out shortly after that. It wasn't even because my family was constantly trying to 'change me'. Oh yeah, that reminds me. My dad somehow got my mother on his side. She kept insisting I let her set me up with some of her friend's handsome sons. I wouldn't say I hated her for doing it, she was just scared of my father. It's a little sad when I think about it. When I was little, he always seemed like such a kind, sweet man. As I got older, and started making some choices that were different to the beliefs he tried to raise me on, was where I guess the resentment started setting in.

I'm not boring you, am I? Sorry to ask, it's just that most ponies don't talk to me for this long, and you looked kind of tired and- Nevermind. Where was I? Oh right, moving out. I moved out because I just wanted a nice, quiet place for me and my fillyfriend. Or fillyfriends. You know how it is when you're young, that experimental phase. Well, that didn't really last long. I think I have my schoolmates to blame for that one. It was bad enough being the 'gay kid' in school, without them thinking I was a whore. Not that I'm bitter about it, I just don't think it would have been a very good idea to have an open relationship anymore. If anything, they did me a favour.

I didn't much care for the ridicule, though. I always told myself that this would all change when I was older, that ponies got more mature and accepting with age. Well, I was right- to a degree, anyways. I'm getting ahead of myself, sorry. Anyways, I really should have listened to those thoughts a little better. I would always get into fights- mares and stallions alike- because of what they would say. It was never when they said something about me, it was more about when they would talk about one of my filly... Marefriends. I was always the protective one. Sadly, it's that exact attitude that got me kicked out of school. Got a real good earful from the Principal, too.

My marefriend left me the next day. So what was that now? The 8th one I'd had at that point? She never told me why, either. I figured she just couldn't handle being judged for it. That, or maybe she 'decided' she like stallions. She never was good at making up her mind.

Anywho, since I couldn't count on my education getting me anywhere, I had to start looking for a job. Sadly, nobody would take the teenaged lesbian dropout. Something about it being 'bad for business'. Bigots. So I lived off of the hospitality of friends for a few good years, spending each and every day begging- looking for a job. At least, I did whenever I wasn't out partying with my friends. Which makes it all the more a shame that they all got sick of me and kicked me out at some point or another. Not that I could really blame them. I never showed any promise that I would ever get my own place.

It's kind of funny when you think about it. I moved out of my parent's place because I wanted my own, without realizing I couldn't afford it. Luckily for me, I was only a few weeks away from being a full fledged adult mare, able to do as I pleased. So what if I had to spend the next couple of weeks sleeping outside on park benches? I mean, the only downside is that now my back hurts like crazy every morning when I wake up. It didn't bother me at the time; I was too excited about my birthday, which meant I could go apply at the last place in town that could still potentially take me. The local pub.

Now I know what you're thinking. And shut up. I really didn't want to work there; being around a bunch of fat, gross stallions with nothing better to do than hit on the young waitress? Unfortunately, I didn't really have much of a choice. So I took the job, and before long I was able to pay my rent for my new apartment. The proud feeling I had for owning my own place however, was a little bit undermined by the fact that I was only given the job because the owner knew very well who I was, and felt bad for me. It was a little embarrassing, since he was sort of a family friend.

It didn't bother me for long though, since finally having my own bed again was just about the best feeling in the world. I remember thinking one night that my parents would be so proud of me for getting a job and my own place. So like a dope, I decided the next morning that I would go visit them and tell them how well I'm doing. Geez, was that the stupidest idea I ever had. After- Hey! Pay attention! Oh, you were? Sorry, you were just looking kind of zoned out. My bad.

So after I knock on their door, my father answers, and immediately launches into his yelling routine for me to get the buck of his doorstep. Lucky for me, my mom talked him into letting me come in and talk. So we talked. Mostly about me, of course. They asked if I was still 'that way', and of course I told them I was, which earned me a stern glare from my father. I didn't pay him any mind anymore. He wasn't too proud of me for my choice of employment, but then he wasn't too proud of me to begin with, so no loss there.

My mom didn't say anything the whole time I was there. She just sat there, smiling and looking at me. I think she was just happy to see me, and know that I was doing okay. But as I was leaving, her smile seemed to disappear. I told her I would come visit again soon. She said she would really appreciate it. She told me she loved me. It was nice to hear somepony say that to me again. Dad didn't share the same feeling, however. He slammed the door in my face as I said my goodbye, but then that wasn't really a surprise. Part of me was pretty sure he was waiting to do that since I walked in the door.

The following day was what I would probably consider the best day of my life, and it all started with Colgate. A young mare named Ramona Colgate came into the bar one day with some of her friends. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She was just gorgeous. Bouncing, flowing hair, adorable laugh, and what a tight flank- Sorry! Got a little carried away. Oops. So I sort of watched her from the counter whenever I wasn't busy getting drinks, and when I noticed her walking away from her friends to go to the little filly's room, I knew that was my chance.

I tried to rush over to talk to her, but missed her just as she walked in. I could've gone after her of course, but I thought it might be a little weird to try striking up a conversation while she was trying to do her business. Hopes dashed, I sort of just stood there for a few minutes, soaking in my big goof up. I was about to turn around and get back to work, when the door swung open again, and she was standing right there in front of me. I couldn't believe what happened next. She actually said hello to me! I was so ecstatic, even if she was just asking me if I could move out of the way. I wasn't really in a good position to make a better ice-breaker, so I just tried going with it.

We talked for a bit, until she told me she had to get back to her friends, but she hoped we could see each other again. I was over the moon with joy right then. I couldn't even explain it either; I had never felt that strongly for any other mare I ever met before. Something about her was special. I was right, too. We ended up going on a date, and after that my life felt amazing. Working long nights, living in a tiny, smelly apartment, none of that mattered because all I could ever think about was her.

I remember when she asked me to move in with her. I was excited of course, even if a lot of that feeling was due to her place being a lot nicer than mine. Still, I was just looking forward to all the alone time we would have together. Not that you need to hear about any of that. Yeah, life was really good. She was happy, and I was happy. Then one day I popped the question. Oh, she was so happy! My ears still hurt thinking about it. She really had a set of lungs on her, if you know what I mean?

...

Right. Um, so the wedding. I'm sure you're not too interested in the details- I certainly wasn't, and she talked nonstop about different floral arrangements and boring junk like that- but everything was just perfect; and after the wedding, we had our honeymoon in Las Pegasus. Ah, such a romantic weekend. I don't think I'll ever forget it. I- Oh now you're focused and attentive? I mention the good bits and now you're paying attention? Ughh, this right here is why I never went for stallions.

Getting on with the story, my life was pure bliss over the course of the next few months. We were both hopelessly in love with each other, doing nearly everything together. I didn't think my life could get any better than it was. I'm sure you can guess that this isn't the happily ever after end of my story. One day Colgate brought up a question I had been avoiding for a long time. She wanted to have a kid.

Obviously, we couldn't have a foal of our own- believe me, I checked. I even went to see the librarian about it. You know, that purple unicorn mare? Apparently my questions were making her 'uncomfortable' and she made me leave. I don't think she could have helped me anyways. So we adopted a cute little filly named Ruby Pinch. Colgate adored her from first sight, claiming she 'looks a lot like me'. I didn't really see it; at least not at first. She was an adorable little thing though, and we were both attached to her right away.

For years onward, we lived as a big, happy family. I was loving life and everything I had. Then Colgate started to get sick.

And more sick.

And more sick.

And more sick.

I was scared. So I had her see a doctor. Turned out she was suffering from Metastasis. Yeah, I didn't know what that was either. Basically it means she had cells spreading tumors everywhere. The worst part was there was nothing that I, or any doctor could do anything about. I just had to watch the mare I loved get worse and worse everyday. Until...

Until one day she didn't wake up.

Ruby took things a lot worse than I did. Mostly because I had to be the strong one, for her. She needed me now more than ever, so I always put my feelings aside whenever she needed me. I think the only reason I was able to keep going was because I still had my daughter. That feeling didn't exactly last too long, though. One day while at work, things were running slow, and the place was empty, so I grabbed the nearest bottle of wine and poured myself a glass. Then another. And another.

I had never done that before, either. I had always promised myself beforehand that I wouldn't touch the stuff while I was working. I couldn't really help myself, though. It helped take away the sting of missing her. My wonderful Colgate. Not a day goes by where I don't miss her. Nor does a day go by where I don't regret starting to drink at work. Because it led to a lot worse.

The grief got to me. Being a single parent was stressful enough without having to deal with your foal crying all the time because she misses her mom, and her other one is away most of the time. She would be at school, and I would be cleaning up around the house. She comes home, and in a few hours i'm leaving for work, and having to leave her with a foal sitter. I always felt bad every time I walked out the door, seeing that sad expression on her face. She told me she understands that I have to go, but it never made me feel any less horrible for it.

Things didn't get really bad until I started drinking around the house. I felt like I needed to all the time. I just had to get away from my life. Ruby would get scared seeing me like that, but I would always be in too much of a drunken stupor to notice when she would start to cry. Once, she asked me why I started drinking so much. I told her it was something mommy needed to do to keep happy. Then she asked me why she wasn't enough to make her happy. That she was sorry she was a burden on her mommy.

I don't remember ever crying so hard in my entire life. My own daughter thought I didn't want her. I felt like a monster for it. It was what it finally took to get me to stop drinking. It was working pretty well for a while. Unfortunately, word got around about how I was having trouble paying my bills, so one day two ponies came to the door and they-

They took my daughter away. I tried everything to get her back, I swear, Celestia I tried. When they heard about my little drinking problem, they told me there was no way I would ever get to see my daughter again. I cried. For days at a time that was all I did. My boss was kind enough to give me the paid time off for it, too. I had lost the only two ponies I cared about, so I did the only thing I knew to do. I popped open a fresh bottle of wine, and poured myself a drink.

Eventually I lost my house. I couldn't pay my bills, because I was spending all my money on drinks. So for the next few months, I had to do things that I don't think I will ever be able to live down. All just so I could have a place to sleep from night to night. Of course, a lot of nights I still had to spend sleeping on a bench, but at least then I didn't have to do certain degrading things for a bunch of gross, fat stallions. The only positive part of it was making a bit of money off of it.

It was all for not though, as I just spent that money on more liquor. Because that was all my life was anymore. I spent my days drinking, my afternoons partying, and my nights- I don't even want to talk about my nights. I didn't have anything left to live for, y'know? So I just sort of let it all slip away. My parents wouldn't speak to me, nopony would talk to me unless they were looking for a 'good time'. I hated what had happened to me.

One night I woke up, and was pretty surprised to find dried blood in my left ear, and a lot on the pillow I was sleeping on. Whoever the stallion was from the previous night really wasn't too happy about that, I bet. So I went and saw a doctor. Turned out all my drinking caused a lot of brain trauma. He was surprised I wasn't anything more than a vegetable by now. I asked him what this meant. He told me he wasn't sure, but I probably didn't have a lot of time 'left', if you know what I mean?

So that's it. I'm spending the last of my days telling a complete stranger my life story, hoping in vain that maybe it will mean something when I'm gone. After everything I've been through, this is how the final chapter to my life is going to play out. And all I can do now is ask myself; Where did I go wrong? Look, thanks for listening. I know you didn't have to, so thanks. But I think i'm going to go now. I have a few things to take care of.

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Author's Notes:

Thanks for reading! I hope this story brought up some amount emotion in one way or another. This story was something that had been tossing around in my head a little while, and I felt the need to finally type it out. For anyone wondering, this isn't just an idea that popped into my head. Quite a bit of what is said in here was based on something in my own life. Of course, an equal number of details were made up to accommodate Berry Punch's character, of course.

Anywho, I would like to say thank you again for reading, and a little constructive criticism is always welcome.

Take care, now.