A pitcher of apple juice. Sparkler looked at it like it were poison.
Slam
The plastic cup slammed onto the table. It was the same every night. He’d come home happy, jumping like the colt he was only to wind down and turn to the juice. Five, maybe six cups a night, always demanding, always stressing, he tore himself up with doubt and hate of himself. And she couldn’t figure out any way to help him.
The convicted slammer sat at the kitchen table, two tombs making sure he could reach. “Another!” He demanded.
She moved with no conviction, her emotions having been sealed away from years of confusion and frustration. She wasn’t ready. Only eighteen. Why did his mother tack the condom onto his cork board. How in Equestria had he not thought to toss it! She could have waited another day if it meant she didn’t have to deal with a foal, much less an inbred one.
She looked at her son, clutching his cup with two hooves because he couldn’t hold anything with one. The look in his eyes distant as he stared into a world she could never comprehend. It was like he’d just gotten news that Celestia wanted him dead because he is tainted.
If that were the case, Sparkler wondered if she’d let her? It was a tough question.
She placed a hoof on his shoulder, mustering her best fake smile as she hoped her words came out right. “Gum Drop, this is your fifth cup. It’s almost bedtime, and I don’t want you having another accident.”
“Moooom!” The kid whined. He raised his cup, preparing to slam it down again, but was unable as his mother grasped it too in her aura. He groaned, straining to complete the slam, only to give up and slam his face onto the table instead.
With a sigh, Sparkler placed the pitcher and the cup on the counter before lowering herself to be eye level with him. “Are you going to mope until bedtime or are you going to talk with me about whatever’s bothering you?”
She knew what bothered him. It always was the same thing.
Silence reigned for a few seconds before another groan escaped his lips. Slowly he raised his head, turned before hopping into his mother’s open arms. Once wrapped in her embrace, he breathed, then spoke. “I can’t stop thinking about dad. I know you told me not to bother with him because he’s bad, but I can’t help it.” He looked up at his mother, who couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Seriously! No matter what I do or where I go he pops into my head! The meditation, Tree Hugger taught me didn’t work, running didn’t work, nothing works!
“I want to know why he left you alone to raise me. Am I a bad pony because I can’t do any magic beside teleportation? Does he hate me because I can’t pick things up like normal ponies?”
Sparkler rested her head onto his before nuzzling him, just like her mother taught her to. He returned the gesture.
Her will fading faster then she’d hoped, her words came out with some of the anger she’d failed to keep at bay. “If I had to guess, I’d say he’s more ashamed of himself then you.”
The colt shifted in his mother’s grasp until he could meet her eyes. “Then why doesn’t he come back to fix everything? Dad’s do that stuff. They fix things, like how Mr. Mac fixed the roof after the storm.”
A dry chuckle escaped Sparkler, “I’m afraid it is a bit more complicated then that. No one, not even Celestia herself can change how you were born. Your struggles won’t change if your father comes back.”
“How do you know!”.
His volume grated at her remaining nerves. She’d had a tough day. Holding down two jobs and a son had wore her to the bone. She’d love an all day visit to the spa, knew that Rarity would be more then happy to pay for it, yet also knew she couldn’t because of him. Four years of struggle with little pay off had begun to take its toll.
“Honey, inside voices, please,” Sparkler said, rubbing her ears.
“Sorry, but, I’ve never met my dad. Maybe he’s some really cool scientist that found the cure to all diseases! What if he can cure my palsy!” He rested his head against her chest, closing his eyes and listening to the beat of his mother’s heart. “I want to believe that, but you and Gran’ma keep him from visiting all the time.”
“Gum Drop, the last time he was here, he beat you unconscious and called you a freak!” She tightened her grip. She felt him shake, and knew it wouldn’t be long before the waterworks started, “I don’t think a stallion that can’t accept his own flesh and blood has the brain or the heart to find the cure to your palsy.”
“But I want to believe!” Rolo cried, tears beginning to flow down his cheeks. “Cheerlie said to never lose hope, that if you believe hard enough and push beyond your boundaries, anything is possible, so why can’t this be possible!”
Though she held more than a little hate for him, her heart still wretched at the sight of her son’s pain. She knew that in order to have any chance to get him off the idea of his father coming to save the day, she had to take drastic measures. Simple talking didn’t work, getting beat into mild amnesia didn’t work, but maybe the devastating, hard hitting reality would finally slap some sense into the colt.
She grabbed his cheeks in her hooves, forcing his tear stained eyes to look at her. “Know that I love you, but you have to listen to me. Your father is a dead beat drunk who can’t accept you for who you are. He sees you as unnatural, a freak, and would sooner kill you before even attempting to help you.
“You have got to stop thinking about him. It’s driving you crazy, and you don’t need that kind of stress in your life!”
His tears turned into sobs, “but I can’t! No matter what you or Gran’ma says or he does, I can’t stop thinking about him!”
He became inconsolable, loudly sobbing into Sparkler’s coat, making it slick with tears and snot. She did her best to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of slime, wishing that her mother could come in the door and save her, but that never happened. She was alone with the child she never wanted and didn’t know what to do with.
Fear crept into her at the thought of however many more years of this. She could hope and pray for things to get better, but that hadn’t worked for the past four years, so it was unlikely to work at all.
When he had run out of tears, she tucked him into bed (he did end up having another accident) and Sparkler took a shower to clean off the slime. She didn’t. She ended up crying.
