Chapter One
Lightning flashed and thunder rolled over Hoofington. Rain pelted the windows of the city’s homes, sounding like distant gunfire. On the stoop of one home at the city's edge, however was a young unicorn no older than sixteen. His ashen coat and carbon black mane and tail were difficult to see under veil of darkness. The only evidence of his presence were his piercing red eyes that shone with every flash of lightning. Anypony paying attention could see his tears before they blended with the raindrops on his face and the small saddlebags he was buckling shut.
He sniffled and strapped them to his back. Just then, the door opened and an earth pony of dull beige fur appeared. His unkept mane and tail were reflections of the nearly wild look in his eyes as he watched the colt. "Atticus! What in Celestia's name are you doing?!"
The voice of the young unicorn cracked in sadness, "Doing what I should have done a long time ago...!"
"Oh no you don't! I will not have my only son repeat his mother's mistake!" He reached out to grab the colt and pull him back inside.
"Get away from me, father! I've had enough of you!" He yanked himself away and stumbled down the steps of the stoop.
"Atticus," the elder called out, "Come back at once! Atticus!"
The old stallion's calls fell on deaf ears as his son ran off into the unforgiving night...
*brrrm brrrm brrrm brrm brrrm br-*
*click*
Atticus Rho's tired hoof came down on the alarm clock, its shrill cries silenced for the morning. It was day 127 of 180. Two months to go before he was once more free from the monotony of Canterlot Public High School. Two months before he got a break from the hell that the youth in his classroom would raise because of petty arguments. Two months left of his meager paycheck before it was gone for the summer. It was going to be a long two months.
Atticus was a pony who desired the simple things in life. He lived alone on the edge of Canterlot's West District in a modest apartment complex. He held a steady, if low-paying job, as a teacher of mathematics. As a unicorn, he was knowledgeable in little magic. Just enough to do his job, really, and nothing more. With an ashen coat and a carbon black mane and tail, he was a stallion many would consider unremarkable except for one detail: Atticus was blind.
He forced himself out of bed and stood on shaky legs, themselves not yet awake either. Mumbling in grogginess, Atticus leaned against the wall and felt his way to the bathroom where he showered and brushed his mane and teeth. Feeling satisfied with his cleanliness, felt his way further down the hall and towards the kitchen. He turned on the radio and prepared himself a bowl of grits and a single buscuit with apple butter. It was the same breakfast he ate every day, but with a teacher's salary and the cruel mistress of inflation working against him, it was all he could afford that was filling. By the time the weather forecast began to play on the radio, Atticus knew it was time to go. He laid his silverware and bowl in the dishwasher to run in his absence and felt his way towards the door.
Upon leaving his apartment, the stallion was immediately met with the strong odor of "De Lis Number 4." The perfume shop across the street must be running a sale again. He shrugged off the scent and walked down the sidewalk. For the next six blocks, he traveled in silence. The sound of ponies chattering grew in volume and youth, gradually drowning out the sound of his hoofsteps until he stood before the great doors of Canterlot Public High School.
A ringing bell and the breeze of air conditioning greeted Atticus as he walked inside the school. The din of students chattering amongst themselves pervaded the air, which smelled faintly of sweat, chalk, and processed fruit. Despite the constant shuffle of teenagers making navigation difficult, he eventually trotted into his classroom, number 114, and laid his saddlebags down by his desk. “Good morning, class,” he called out. The adolescent colts and fillies in the room either mumbled a similar greeting or said nothing. First period was always a difficult period to stay awake in. “Before we begin, let me remind you that next week is our third exam. Like the rest, this exam is cumulative, so I urge you to study everything. A new section to add to your study guide is at my desk to pick up as you leave. Now that we have that settled, let’s open up or text books to chapter seven, section three…”
Pages fluttered and the class went underway.
The last bell rang out across the school, signaling the end of classes for the day. Students immediately stuffed their notes and books back into their saddlebags and began to file out of the classroom. Atticus called out over the shuffling of hooves, “Don’t forget the homework that is due tomorrow! I want all of the even numbered problems of Chapter Five done by Monday!” No one responded to his reminder.
In a matter of minutes, the room had been left absent of life. Atticus was the only pony left as he sat at his desk and graded papers. He heard a knock on his door and a familiar voice call out to him, "Can I come in, Mr. Rho?" It was the voice of one of the students, Top Button.
"Of course. I assume you're here for the parent-teacher conference, correct...?"
The colt nodded. "Yeah, mom's right outside the door."
"Perfect. Let her know I'm ready to meet with her now," Atticus replied.
Top Button stuck his head out the door and whispered to his mom, who entered moments later. Her name was Golden Glimmer. She was your run of the mill upper class citizen with money up the wazoo and posh mannerisms that bordered on obsessive-compulsive depending on which side of the social fence one stood on.
Glimmer sat down in front of Atticus' desk and asked in concern, "What is going on? Did Top Button get into trouble with you or the other kids?"
He shook his head and replied, "Your son's behavior is fine. Not once has he been a disruption to my class. However, it's his grades I'm worried about...he's been failing for weeks now."
"What?! Why?"
"I don't know for certain, but it appears to me that he's completely lost the motivation to work." Atticus felt around the desk in search of Top Button's portfolio, but no dice. "Confound it all..."
"It's literally right under your nose, Mr. Rho. You'd have to be blind to miss it," she deadpanned.
The unicorn shrugged. "Sad to say that really is my case. I really wish I added those dotted tags to the folders...here we go." He pulled out page six of Top Button's file and nudged it towards her. "He excelled for the first few months, but went into a sharp decline for almost no apparent reason. His tests and quizzes received zeroes despite him being able to answer verbally with no problem." His face showed great concern as he spoke. Golden Glimmer, meanwhile, was at a loss for words, having almost ignored the page before her. Her son's math teacher really couldn't see? She eyed Top Button as if to say, Why in Celestia's name didn't you say anything? The only response was an indifferent shrug.
"I don't know what's going on with him, but I want to help him succeed...is there anything going on at home or in his circle of friends that's causing him to behave this way?" It was appalling to her that Atticus would be the one criticizing when there was no way for him to visually account for his claims. She replied angrily, "I understand the problem, alright, Mr. Rho."
"I'm glad you understand, ma'am."
"The problem is you!" Rho stopped where he sat and faced the mother in confusion. How was was this possible? "Ponies like you shouldn't even be teaching! How can I trust that you're doing your job right when you can't even see your own two front hooves?! Are you some kind of proud fool?!"
"You honestly believe that I don't have provisions for that? My textbook is written almost entirely in Braille," Atticus replied, "I use a specialized dry-erase board that uses magnets to assemble equations with both Equestrian and Braille on them--"
"Which I must say looks quite childish for a math teacher of your supposed caliber! Do you know what other grade levels apply this kind of tool?! You won't even find this in second grade classrooms! They're all even colored like a rainbow for Celestia's sake," she continued to rant.
Atticus calmly replied, "The color coding is for the students' aid and they've raised no complaints over it--"
She interrupted again. "Probably because they're too embarrassed to say anything!"
"Look, Mrs. Glimmer," Atticus said as his voice began to show frustration towards this obstinate mare, "I do what I do because I care about the intellectual well-being of my students. If you don't appreciate my methods, then all I can really say is bear with me because I'm not going to change them any time soon."
Golden Glimmer gasped and stared daggers at him. "How dare you insult me Mr. Rho...implying that I don't care about his education...! You don't know how much of my tax money goes toward the future of my son, much less that of all Canterlot youth!" Actually, he did have a ballpark figure, but mentioning it would make the already ornery parent more upset. "And knowing that money is being wasted on ponies like you sickens me..." She turned to Top Button and crossly concluded, "I'm done here, we're going home." With her snout to the air and her son in tow, she stomped out of the classroom and slammed the door shut. A cheap picture frame fell off of the wall.
Atticus sighed.
Six blocks of walking later and Atticus had returned home to his meager apartment on the edge of Canterlot’s West District. He closed the door behind him and hung his saddlebags on the wall with a heavy sigh. Today had ended on a poor note. It wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Life was never meant to be easy, but it had a way of dealing ponies poor cards. Surrendering himself to the status quo of his life, Atticus felt his way to his bedroom and climbed into bed. closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep in the only solace he could find in his world.
Tomorrow was Saturday.
TO BE CONTINUED
A/N: Please give honest reviews on this story and tips on how to improve! I will edit based on feedback.
