You know how they say it’s better to be different than to be the same? Well, that was definitely what you could call me. But, thanks to how different my life was from everypony else's, I was in a living hell every single day. Constant remarks, always being told that I would never belong in society, that nopony would ever be friends with me? After a while of hearing things such as that over and over again, I slowly grew a shell, that nopony was going to break. Not as long as I lived.
At least, that’s what I thought, until I met her. She was so different from everypony else. She never noticed my problem that everypony else did. She accepted me as somepony of importance, and gave me a reason to be happy. We did everything together, every chance we got. We were there for each other, good times and bad, fun times and sad times. Sometimes I wonder how she’s doing up there in the sky.
Being a pegasus, she had much more freedom than I, an earth pony, did. Sometimes, if I ever have the chance, I go visit her and tell her about my day, and she listens so closely and carefully, never interrupting. She’s the best friend anypony could ever ask for. Always caring, thoughtful, protective. A true leader, which makes sense, what with her taking her father’s place as a royal guard for Princess Luna when he passed away. Everypony was amazed when she became the first ever female guard. She had always dreamed of following in her father’s hoofsteps.
I, however, was always fascinated by helping others, and I hadn’t discovered that until I met her brother. He made me realize there were other ponies like me. Ponies that were different. He was a pretty cool colt, and he was always making us laugh anytime we were upset or stressed from school. It’s just upsetting because of how restricted he was, but he always had an optimistic outlook on life.
Sometimes when I go talk to her, I talk to him as well. They’re always there for me, no matter what. Sometimes we will dwell on memories of the past and laugh. We’ll laugh so hard we cry. Well, I cry anyway. But only because of how happy I am. Knowing I have made the best friends anypony could ask for, and I thank them for that every day.
Whenever I wasn’t visiting them, I’d be working at my job in the hospital watching over the foals, reading to them, feeding them their meals, and checking up on them regularly. Every day I came in, their faces lit up in excitement and glee. They would always tell me I was their favorite nurse, and they loved me every single day.
Sometimes I would get calls from the hospital asking me to come in because the young ones would ask me to. How could I say no? I loved what I did. You would too if you saw happy faces every time you walked through a door and heard them shout your name in joy. I was pretty happy with my current life. But as I stated earlier, before I met her, I was absolutely miserable. I mean, who wouldn’t be when you’re born different? When you’re born with only 3 legs.
* * * * * *
Growing up, I lived in a pretty nice home. It was a three bedroom house, one room for me, one for my parents, and one for my mom’s studio. We lived in Canterlot. It was quite a nice town, with some of the nicest ponies there. Well, some of them anyway. At home, my mom would always be working on some art, getting ready to release the latest in her collection of paintings. Everywhere she looked, she would always be inspired by something new, even if it was something as trivial as dust on the ceiling fan. Other’s thought of it as just dust, she thought of it as an unknown galaxy, just waiting to be explored. No matter what it was, you name it, she could find the beauty in it.
She was a beautiful unicorn with the softest brown coat with a canvas and easel for her cutie mark, the curliest long white mane, and the most beautiful ocean blue eyes anypony had ever seen. My dad would constantly tell me that when they met, the first thing he noticed was her eyes, and how he just wanted to stare into them for all eternity. He was truly in love with her from the very second they met, and I’m sure my mom felt the very same way.
My dad was usually at work every day until I had gone to bed. Whenever my mom would tuck me into bed, I would pretend to be asleep. But once she left and shut the door behind her, I would be up and reading my books by moonlight until he came home. Every night he would come in and check on me, and every night I would be up and waiting just for him to hug me, give me a kiss on the head, read me a story and hold me while I slept. I loved my parents more than anything.
He was a very handsome earth stallion, with a short and spiky brown mane and tail, a shiny yellow coat, soft gray eyes, his cutie mark being a trowel. He was a gardener, so he would constantly come home dirty, but I didn’t mind. In fact, I was happy when he came home dirty, because that meant he worked hard, and when he worked hard, he was happy, and that’s all my mom and I really wanted.
Whenever my parents had time off, we would always go to the park and have a picnic, play games, sometimes even go bowling. We had so much fun together, I didn’t even realize that everypony was staring at me. I didn’t care, because I was happy with them. One day when we were walking home from a long day of excitement, I had started to get sleepy and asked my dad to lift me on to his back, which he was more than pleased to do.
As they continued walking, I had dozed off into a deep sleep. I had always been a deep sleeper. That’s why when I woke up, I hadn’t heard anything except for crickets. I thought I was still on my father’s back.
“Daddy,” I asked. “Are we home?” To which I didn’t hear a response, and what with me being half asleep, I hadn’t thought anything of it. It wasn’t until I was starting to get cold that I fully woke up and found myself hidden behind a dumpster. All I saw were flashing lights. Blue and red. Blue and red.
I got up from laying down, only to find an old hayburger stuck to my side. I brushed it off and slowly came out from behind the dumpster. Once I had fully emerged, I saw I was in a dark and dank alley. Broken glass was everywhere, trash littered everywhere you looked. There was a raccoon in the nearby corner eating on some old fruit. It smelled awful. It was as if someone combined dirty laundry, old food, and baby diapers and served it right in front of me. I could also smell something that I had never smelled before. I suppose the best way to describe it would be as iron.
Beyond the smells and the dark alley, I could hear the chatter of multiple ponies.
“This is just awful.” Said one of the ponies ahead of me. “How could somepony do something like this?”
“Officer Star,” said another pony. “Weren’t these the parents of….?” As I drew closer, they both looked up and saw me, and the only emotion that came across their faces, was complete and utter devastation. Their faces were completely sunken in, as if they had seen the most gruesome thing in all of Equestria. If only I had known that that was exactly what had happened.
Once I was fully out, they saw that I was utterly confused. My spiky white and yellow mane, which I inherited from my dad, was dirty and had bits of dirt stuck in it, my long curly white and yellow tail, which I inherited from my mom, was completely filthy and knotted up, and my cream colored coat was smudged with dry mud and ketchup on my side from the hayburger.
As I looked around, I saw two blankets on the ground, covering up two long figures with a hoof jutting out from one of the sides. I looked up at the police officer. “Where’s my mommy and daddy?” They just stared at me, completely unsure of what to say to a filly like me.
The officer had regained his composure and pulled me to the side. He was a unicorn, short, probably just a little taller than I was, with a grey coat and long black mane, tail and mustache and a dark grey star in the shape of a badge for a cutie mark. While he had me pulled to the side, I looked back to the blankets on the ground, and had noticed 2 officers putting a stallion in the back of the station wagon. He was covered in a red fluid, and had a red mane and blue coat and green eyes. I know they were green because his eyes met mine.
When our eyes met, I was immediately frightened and felt unsafe. It was as if I was staring into the eyes of someone with absolutely no heart or soul. I could feel my throat closing up as he smirked at me and started screaming like a crazy pony.
“You’re next little one,” he screamed. “I’ll find you, just you wait! I’ll kill you too! You can’t escape from me, you little, disfigured freak!” He was quickly silenced, when the officer that was putting him into the back, punched him square in the jaw, breaking some of his teeth. But even then, he laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed. They shut the door behind him, got into the front and drove off.
I watched them go by and as they passed, he stared at me, and it felt as if time was moving in slow motion. I couldn’t breath, I couldn’t move. I didn’t even hear what the officer was saying.
“....oung filly,” said the officer, causing me to come back to reality. I looked up at him, unsure of what he had said. “Can you tell me your name? I need to make sure you’re…” His voice trailed off.
“N-Noble. Noble Cross.” I said, “My name is Noble Cross. Where are my mommy and daddy? And what did that pony mean when he said ‘kill’?” I looked at the blankets again, unsure of the pieces I was slowly putting together.
“Noble, you don’t have to worry about that stallion.” Said the officer in a reassuring voice, trying to calm me down. “He’s going away, and never coming back. We’ll make sure of that, make sure he’ll never come anywhere near you.”
“Where are they?! Where are my mommy and daddy?!” I began to tear up, afraid of what I was slowly realizing had happened. “Tell me where they are!” The officer embraced me in a hug so tight, it was hard to breath and whispered in my ear what had happened while he was beginning to cry.
“Y-your mommy and daddy are…” Hesitation stopped him from speaking. He hugged me so tight, I felt as if I was being crushed. I started to pull away. “They’re….gone.” The second I heard those words, everything in my surroundings had disappeared. Everything had gone black. There was only me. I looked around and saw my parents in the distance, glowing brightly.
I ran towards them as fast as I could. ‘They’re right there,’ I thought. ‘How can they be gone? They’re right there! Mommy! Daddy!’ No matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t make it to them. I ended up tripping and fell right in front of the blankets, dirty and dyed red from what lie underneath. Right in front of me, the very first thing I saw, was a dirty yellow hoof, now dyed pink, slowly turning red. I slowly sat up, my heart pounding from fear. ‘It’s not true, it can’t be true.’ I slowly reached for the blanket, my left arm shaking softly, while the rest of me shook so violently, I felt as if I were going to vomit at any second. I finally grabbed the blanket and threw it off, exposing what I had been denying.
There he was. The stallion that had raised me since birth. His coat was completely dyed red, his throat sliced from one side to the other. The red liquid pooled around his body, his eyes wide open. I looked into his eyes, and they were filled with the same liquid. My own eyes had widened and I covered my mouth to keep from screaming as tears began to stream down my face. I looked over at the next blanket and slowly got up, walked over to it, and with no hesitation, I threw it off to the side. My mother was laying there, her horn cut off and shoved down her throat, stomach sliced open, her organs spilling out everywhere, and among them was a tiny foal, no bigger than my hoof.
The same liquid that pooled around my father’s body, pooled around hers. Her once beautiful, white mane was completely ruined by what I now know to be blood. I was completely speechless. Nothing would come out of my mouth. Nothing but a blood curdling scream, to which loud sobs followed immediately after.
“Get her away from the bodies, now!” As I screamed, I felt somepony grab me, to which I struggled to get away so hard, I kicked and screamed for them to let me go. I wanted to run to them. I wanted to hug them. I wanted to see them smile. I kept kicking and screaming,
“Let me go! Let me go! Mommy! Daddy!” They put a blanket over my head and kept a hold of me. Due to my screaming and crying, ponies from nearby started coming out, checking to see what was going on. But I didn’t care that they saw me. They kept a tight grip on me as I kept crying and struggling, longing to hold them one last time.
I quickly lost all of my energy and fell limp into the arms of the officer holding me. This time, the officer holding me was a tall, white unicorn with green medium length hair and a short curly tail, his cutie mark, a police badge. He was cradling me close to him, to which I didn’t fight. My fight had been drained after struggling so harshly. So I just laid there, in his arms. Laid there, and cried, slowly crying myself to sleep.
* * * * * *
I awoke some time later, the bright light binding me for a brief amount of time. I could hear ponies around me talking, some laughing, some discussing paperwork, some talking about their weekend plans. I could smell the sweet scent of coffee being freshly brewed a little bit away from where I was. It reminded me of how every morning I would wake up and wander into the kitchen, smelling the strong scent from my bedroom nearby. My father would be in the kitchen with my mother every morning, talking with her about me and my future, how they always wanted me to have the best schooling there was to offer.
As they would talk, she would always pour him a fresh cup of coffee and always put in 2 creams and 20 sugars. He always preferred his coffee sweet, so he wouldn’t taste the blandness that came along with coffee. My mother however always preferred hers strong and dark, said it gives her a better chance of being fully awake throughout the day. There was even this one morning where I decided to make them breakfast in bed, only to realize I had no skills in cooking.
I had it all planned out, I would make their favorites, just the way they liked them. Pancakes with haybacon for my mom, with just a small side of butter and syrup, a cup of orange juice and coffee, and french toast with powdered sugar on top, with a huge bowl of syrup and no butter, with some strawberries on the side, and coffee for my father. I decided that before I got started that I would try the coffee for the very first time. It was the single, most disgusting thing I had ever tried, making me question why grown ups would enjoy this distasteful brown liquid.
I put aside the liquid until I was ready to make their cups and got started on the breakfast I had planned out. Since I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, and I was too short to reach any of the shelves, I decided to hoof it and make them my own way. I grabbed the nearby chair and hopped up onto the counter to gather my ingredients and tools. Once I had everything set up, I turned on the stove and began to cook.
Seeing as how I had no idea what I was doing, my attempts ended up with me burning the french toast and pancakes, under-cooking the haybacon, and making the kitchen look as if a tornado had ran through it. When I looked at the breakfast, I began to break down into tears, knowing I had ruined the surprise I made for them. My tears grew into sobs, and my sobs turned into pure blubbering. My parents had rushed in to see what was wrong, and I explained to them what had happened.
“Noble,” said my mother, her voice calm and soothing as usual. “This was a very sweet thing for you to do.” She pulled me against her and hugged me, to which I began to cry more. “Next time you want to do something, just come find us and we will help you.”
“No!” I said with my voice cracking. “I wanted to surprise you, and I ruined it!” As I continued to cry, I felt a hoof be placed on my head.
“Oh sweetheart,” said my father, his usual happy tone in his voice. “You did surprise us! You worked hard for something, and you finished what you started! Most fillies and colts would have given up when they weren’t sure of what they were doing. Besides,” he walked over to the breakfast I had prepared for them, everything almost charred to a crisp, with the exception of the haybacon being under-cooked, and took a deep whiff of the scent. “It smells incredible, and I’m so hungry, I could eat a whole buffet right now! So how about we dig right in?”
I knew he was just saying that to cheer me up, but it worked. It got me to stop crying and we ate together. They said they enjoyed it more than anything because I made it. It made me so happy to hear that.
“Noble?” My father stated, as if he was trying to get my attention. “Are you…”
“...alright miss Noble?” I was brought back to reality, realizing it wasn’t my father talking to me, but the main police officer in charge. She was a tall pegasus, with a shiny teal colored coat, a yellow mane and tail, both short and straight, and a magnifying glass as her cutie mark.
I looked up at her in a daze, unable to respond with anything, not even a simple ‘huh’. What could I say? My parents were dead, I no longer had a home to go home to what with me being alone now. She sat down next to me and put her arm around me and embraced me in a hug, while I lay there motionless and completely dazed out.
“Noble, would you like to come with me?” She rubbed my back as she held me, trying to comfort me and get me to speak. “I know a room we have where you can draw and color and play, I can take you there if you’d like.” When she pulled her arm away from behind me and reached for my right hoof, I quickly pulled away. I didn’t want anypony touching my prosthetic hoof. I didn’t want anypony to come near me. I got up and ran towards the nearest bathroom, which was only a few trots away. When I got into the bathroom, I locked the door behind me, turned my back to the door and sat right in front of it.
I wanted to be by myself. I wanted to be alone. The adults knocked on the bathroom, asking if I was okay, if I wanted to talk. I said nothing. I walked away from the door, towards the mirrors, and went to the shortest sink, where I had managed to see myself for the first time all night. I looked like a train wreck. My mane was a mess and tangled, I was dirty from head to hoof, and my pale blue eyes were bloodshot from crying so hard.
I looked at my right arm and saw it was scuffed up and scratched badly. I hadn’t even noticed it until just now. But then again, how could I? I had no feeling in my arm. I had no arm. I had never felt more disfigured in my life. Not even when I had to get it replaced every year what with me growing, as my father would say, “like a weed”. I finally realized how different I was from everypony else. I never paid attention to it before, because of how happy I was. Now, I understand why that crazy killer called me that. Because I WAS a disfigured freak.
I looked at the mirror again, memories of my parents flashing through my mind. Birthdays, doctors appointments, picnics, parties. I started to smile from remembering such happy times, but it hurt so much, that I couldn’t keep the tears inside anymore. The next thing I knew, my tears were dripping down into the sink. As more memories flashed through my mind, those words from that...that monster rang like a loud bell, getting louder and louder with each gong. “‘you’re next….kill you too...disfigured freak!’”
With every second that passed by, it just got louder and louder, and the more I stared at the mirror, the more my anger flourished. When his face came across my mind, I blacked out. I don’t remember what happened after that, just that the bathroom door had been broken down and a medical pony had been wrapping my hoof, which was bleeding profusely, and stinging from what I could tell was iodine from a bottle right next to him. I looked around, the chief pony to the right of me, rubbing my back. To the left of me, there was blood splattered along the broken mirror, the sink and pieces of glass on the floor.
Once I realized what had happened, and my hoof had been fully wrapped up, I pulled away and stared down at the floor, my hoof up off
of the ground to keep it from hurting anymore than it already was. I walked with everypony to the room the chief pony had mentioned earlier. They had me sit down at a table and placed some paper and crayons in front of me. She asked me to draw something for her. I just sat there, like a rag doll. Eventually I had blocked out every chance for her to communicate with me. I didn’t listen to a word she said, I didn’t move a single muscle.
“Noble,” she stated, a sweet tone in her voice that was recognizable to my mothers, which is why she caught my attention. “I understand you don’t want to talk. We don’t have to talk if you don’t feel comfortable with it, you don’t even have to draw. We can just sit here and enjoy each other’s company. I find it quite relaxing to sit in silence sometimes, such as when I’m upset or afraid, or even angry. So, until you’re ready, we can just sit here. No rush for you to feel comfortable.”
I just sat there for what seemed like a week, but when I looked up at the clock, it had only been five minutes. I looked at her, and saw she had grabbed a nearby book and was reading. It was one of those romance novels, just like the ones mom would read. I looked back at the paper and the crayons. My favorite color stuck out the most to me. I grabbed the red crayon gently with my sore hoof, and began to make marks on the paper.
Only about 3 minutes had gone by and I had set the crayon back down. When she marked the page she was on in her book, she looked over and I looked at her and saw only one emotion on her face. Distraught. She tried to hide it, but it wasn’t a very good effort, like she wasn’t even trying. She asked me if the other officers could see this. I just looked down and sat in silence. She got up, grabbed the paper and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
When she had closed it, I looked up and examined the room around me. It was a pale yellow room with drawings taped onto the wall. So many of them were done by fillies and colts my age. Against one of the walls was a bookshelf with only three shelves, with enough books to last a few weeks. On the other side was a toy chest, red and green, with a fake lock on it, as if it were a treasure chest. Toys were strewn around the room, a teddy bear and ball in the corner underneath a white rocking chair, some costumes on top of the chest.
Right above the chest was a window with light pink curtains, the shutters only pulled up half-way. About 2 feet above the window was a clock. It had a picture of Princess Celestia’s cutie mark. The hour hand was pink, as well as the numbers, and the minute hand was green, and the rest of it was pure white. I was sitting in the middle of the floor at the table. The table was a gray color, with brown legs, and made of wood. The red chair I sat in squeaked every time I moved.
The clock and the chair were the only thing that made sound in the room. I stared at the clock. It ticked as time moved by. Tick. Tick. Tick. The time said it was 9:53. As I looked over at the door, I could see the figures of the grown ups talking, one of them holding my paper I had written on. I decided to get up and walk over to the door. I put my ear up against it to hear what they were saying.
“She’s not talking,” said the police chief. “She won’t even make a peep.” It may have been muffled slightly, but I could understand them somewhat.
“What’s with the paper?” It sounded like the first police officer that I saw when I came out from behind the dumpster earlier that night.
“You...you may want to look at it. She may be….” I heard the paper ruffle and she gave it to the officer.
“Sweet Celestia….” That’s all he said. I’m sure it was because of what I had written. Suddenly I heard a stomp. “That bastard! When I see that monster again, I’m gonna--”
“Silver Star! Watch your language! She is right inside!” I could tell she wasn’t happy with him. “And you will stay away from the culprit as long as I am in charge, do you understand?”
“But….” He took a deep sigh. “Yes, Chief Rosewell, as you order. Now then, should we talk to her?”
“That would probably be the best idea, at least ask her about the paper. We don’t want to pressure her, otherwise, she could be more hurt than she already is. Let’s go, and Officer Star, watch your temper and language around her.”
“Yes Chief, I will do my best.” I slowly backed away from the door as it opened, the two adults surprised to see me standing there staring up at them. They looked at each other, unsure of what to do, but quickly regained their composure and nodded to each other, knowing that they were sure of what had to be done. We walked back over to the table, and I sat back down in the chair, causing it to squeak as I did so. They sat right in front of me, holding the paper.
“Noble, we want you to know we’re here to help you.” Rosewell put her hoof on my prosthetic hoof, causing me to quickly pull away and forcing me to look down, to which I heard her let out a soft sigh. “Noble, we just have a question about this paper. That’s all we want to know, after that we won’t ask anymore questions. Are you okay with that?”
I sat there in silence, but gave a very slight nod.
“Miss Cross,” Silver Star took off his hat and offered it towards me. “Would you like to know something about this? This is a very special hat. It’s my brave hat. Any time I feel unsafe or unsure of something, I put it on, and feel like I can do anything! If you would like, I can let you wear it, and it’ll make you so brave and strong, you’ll be able to do anything. Would you like that?” I looked up at him and his hat, and, being a filly of my age, I really believed it, so I nodded softly, and he gently placed it on my head. When he let go, it fell over my eyes. Since I was so small, the police hat was more like a sombrero. It made me give out a soft chuckle.
“Well, I’d say you look braver already! Now, you only have to if you want to, but, can you tell us why you wrote this on here? We’re just a little confused and want to know, that’s all sweetheart.” I looked at them then looked down, memories of that crazy pony flashing through my mind, echoing repeatedly.
“Th-that pony,” I said quietly. “That pony called me…” My voice trailed off. I couldn’t finish that sentence. No matter how hard I tried, I wound up bursting into tears. As I sat there crying, they looked at me and got up. Suddenly, I felt a hug being wrapped around me. It was warm, just like my mother’s hugs. When I looked up, Rosewell wiped my tears away and gave me a smile as if she was looking at a child of her own. I kept crying and she helped me stand up.
As we walked towards the door, she asked me, “I know it’s awfully late, but, how would you like it if we took you to the ice cream store down the street? They may be closed, but my husband always lets me in with my friends for free ice cream. Would you like that Noble?” I let out some sniffles and nodded as we walked out the door. Silver Star followed right behind us, shutting off the lights and looking back at the table with the paper left on it. As he shut the door, the light breeze it caused managed to blow the paper off of the table and on to the floor.
To this day I still can’t say that one word. I can’t say the word that crazy stallion used. I can’t say what was on that paper, at least, not out loud. But it rings through my mind whenever I think back to that day. The day he murdered my parents in such a ghastly manner. The day he declared me…
...A Freak.
