I Am the Giant's Shoulders
It's been a while, y'know. Since I last came up here. But there's something about still, moonlit nights that make me feel all. . . brooding. Restless, I suppose. And all my chores are done, I'm not needed - I won't be gone long anyway. Just a few hours. I'll be back before they wake.
Colt's Cliff is my favourite spot to be alone. I've had plenty of practice in finding the best places! It's not like I don't get enough alone time at home, down on the farm. I can see it from here, just about, if I stand on tiptoe and peer over the tops of the trees. I reckon it's about three miles away, as the pegasus flies.
I wonder what it's like to be able to fly? Now that's what I call truly being alone. Nopony else around, just the wind and the sky and the sun. It's why I come up here, I think. It's almost like flying; the clifftop is so high up, and so isolated, I've never met another pony up here.
And I've been coming here a long time now. I think the first time was a few months after Pinkamena got her cutie mark. The older I got, the less Ma and Pa seemed to notice me. Oh, they needed me - they've always been a bit doddery and I've helped out on the farm as long as I can remember - but they stopped wanting me, I think, when it became clear that Pinkie was going to be the 'successful' one. So I started coming up here more and more often.
I'm not jealous. Well, maybe a little. But not of her fame. No, I like my solitude too much. But I envy her the fact that ponies always notice her. "Ooh, it's Pinkie Pie!" they say. But never "Hey look, there's Limestone!". Boring old Limey. I might as well be a robot.
Pinkie and Marble have always been the ones doted upon by our parents. Especially after - especially after Surprise died. I still miss her, even though it's been so many years. One day she was there, the next she was gone. And I've always felt responsible, even though I know her death wasn't my fault. But I keep asking myself "what if I'd been there that day?". She was so gentle, so frail - and I let her down.
I let my youngest sister down. I wasn't there for her, and she died. Maud and Pinkie and Marble could have saved her, if they'd been looking after her properly. And I know it isn't fair, but I've resented them ever since.
I sometimes wonder what my life would be like if Surprise had lived. I'd spend less time alone, of that I'm sure. She always seemed to like me the most. At least, I think so. But now she's gone.
And Maud's gone, and Pinkie's gone. Gone to bigger and better things. Maud has Mudbriar, and Pinkie has pretty much anything she could ever want or need. Marble is the 'baby' of the family now, and Ma and Pa dote on her terribly. She'll never grow up if they don't let her. But they seem to think she's incapable of looking after herself.
Maybe they're trying to make up for losing Surprise.
But why can't I have some of that attention? Why does Marble get it all? Why have I always been the one running the farm, planning the crops, turning the fields, ordering supplies, travelling into Ponyville for the market, keeping the garden tidy? It's always me, and nopony ever says "thank you".
Maybe I deserve it. I'm not cute like Marble, or funny like Pinkie, or clever like Maud. Or dead, like Surprise. My parents spend more time with her than they do with me. That's how it feels, anyway.
I'm just me. Nothing special. Nothing worth spending time with. Just useful to have around. I fill a hole; do the work so others don't have to. That's all I've ever done, and all I'll ever do.
Sometimes it gets to me, y'know? Thinking that this is it, it doesn't get any better. I'll never jet off to be a Helmet of Armoury, or whatever it is that Pinkie does. Nopony has ever been interested in getting to know me better - not platonically and certainly not romantically. It's funny: I always though Maud would be the last to find someone. But now I think it'll be me.
I did have a short relationship, once. Sort of. We met in Canterlot when I was little more than a filly, when Ma was ill, and the five of us foals stayed with relatives in the city. I went for a walk on my own one night - how many thousands of times have I done that, I wonder! - and ended up sheltering in a doorway out of the rain. I first saw him, a dark grey shape cantering along the street, looking for somewhere dry to stand, so I offered to share the doorway.
It was a bit of a squeeze for me and a unicorn colt a little bit larger than me, but funny, in a way - we ended up chatting and laughing for hours. It felt like no time at all before the sun was coming up, and we parted ways - but not before exchanging addresses with promises to write, and meet up again someday. I and my sisters went back to the rock farm later that day.
A few days later, his first letter arrived. I was so excited! He - his name was Cirrus - told me all about his life in Manehatten, and his brothers and sisters, and all sorts of things. I replied immediately, and felt so happy! Finally, there was someone out there, out in the real world, who seemed to like me.
But I never heard back from him. I came down to breakfast a few days later, to find Pa reading aloud a letter to Ma, which I quickly realised was from Cirrus.
I was so angry! They had dared to open my letter, and to invade my privacy like that - I tried to take it from Pa, but he snatched it back. Ma sent me to my room, and when they came up a few hours later, it was to tell me that they had burnt the letter, and that I was to have nothing more to do with strange colts.
I started crying, but it made no difference. They just carried on lecturing me about all sorts of things I didn't understand, and saying that I wasn't ready to have coltfriends. They wouldn't listen when I tried to explain he was just a friend. I didn't even know about sex then, let alone have any desire to practise it - I'd been far too sheltered as a filly to have a clue! In the end I stopped crying and they went away.
I immediately wrote another letter to Cirrus, to explain what had happened, but Ma and Pa intercepted me on my way out to post it. They started searching everyone before letting anyone out of the house, just in case they were carrying a letter for me. It was ridiculous and embarrassing, especially when Pinkamena made up a silly song about it. So in the end I gave up.
I've given up on a lot of things, over the years.
I don't bother showing my emotions much, because nopony cares anyway. It's just a waste of time. I don't bother trying to get close to ponies, because who would want me? I've given up hoping I'll be free from this accursed farm one day. I've resigned myself to being useful, but not cherished.
But I've not given up my night-time walks. There's something so soothing about being alone, battered by the wind, on an isolated clifftop. Knowing that all it would take is a step forward, and all my troubles would be over. No need to worry about crop rotation. No need to juggle trips to market with household chores. No need to be the forgotten child. No need to shoulder everyone else's burdens without anyone else to share them with me.
A wise pony - Isaac Hoofton, I think - one said he had "seen further by standing on the shoulders of giants". I think Pinkie is the one standing on the giant. The giant is her friends and family.
But I am the giant's shoulders.
And I don't think I want to be anymore.
Author's Note
I've often wondered what life is like for the 'forgotten' Pie sister. Perhaps not so rosy as it is for her siblings.
