//-------------------------------------------------------// Devil on My Shoulder (Cake Side Story) -by HanadjisBox- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Devil on My Shoulder //-------------------------------------------------------// Devil on My Shoulder Blinkie fidgeted and glanced at Minkie Pie, who was attempting to read a small book. Although her reading skills were still stunted. They often weren’t alone like this together but Pinkie had taken the rest of the bakers off to collect ingredients and machinery parts all over Ponyville; Pinkie herself was cleaning the dungeon and had no jobs for Blinkie and Minkie. Though Pinkie Pie’s bedroom was colorful and full of confetti-filled daydreams, the tension between Blinkie and her eldest sister was always ice cold, they hadn’t quite formed a strong bond yet … A sleek and sharp piece of obsidian rock didn’t match the best with a hardy piece of beaming gold did it? But Blinkie hoped that would change. Slowly Blinkie prepared herself to break the brick wall that was the silence. “H-hey, Minkie? Can I ask you something?” Blinkie said with a few cracks of anxiety seeping through her tough exterior. “ ... Sure, what is it?” Minkie responded with long dark hair obscuring her true reaction to the question. In reality, she was quite surprised Blinkie was being so soft-spoken for once. Blinkie slowly and unsurely made her way off of Pinkie’s bed and rested her haunches beside her (admittedly quite intimidating) sister. Minkie lowered her head further into her book and slightly shifted away from Blinkie, already regretting her acceptance. The sweaty purple mare noticed the slight recoil and gave Minkie more of a space between them, as her hooves made small scraping noises against the cold floor. “Sorry … I just wanted to ask you about, Papa … ” Blinkie’s brow furrowed with melancholy and anger as she continued. “I just, you mentioned one time you were real close with him.” She searched for something more to explain herself. “ … I guess .. I was kind of a “daddy’s girl” back then … but I’ll never understand. Never understand why he switched so quickly to fit Mama’s little cookie cutter of a perfect husband … at my expense.” Minkie replied with clenched teeth, it was rare she said this much unprompted. Blinkie was a little blown away, proud even, but more so sorry she brought the memory of betrayal back to a pony who had been through more than anypony should. She considered ending the whole thing right there, as she prepared her back hooves to rise and flee; at least trying to save the smallest connection the sisters had left. Minkie sighed and calmed herself by rubbing the side of her head. “It’s fine … I’m fine. Just ask whatever you want to ask.” She said, Blinkie paused. Then awkwardly let her back legs plop back down. She wasn’t sure how to continue at this point without offending Minkie or upsetting her, after a few grueling seconds she went on. “I just … I never understood how Pa’ could love us so dearly, or at least act like it. Then never protect us from Mama when it came down to it. Does that make any sense?” Blinkie shifted her gaze as the question concluded. Truly hoping it did make some sense. Though all these questions and more would unknowingly be answered soon when Blinkie visited the rock farm, this was still important to ask. There were things no dusty old journal could say. “Blinkie ... we’re never going to be told why unless he could tell us … but I think it’s something that isn’t hard to figure out.” Minkie stated less sheepishly than usual, her sister stared inquisitively hoping Minkie might explain further because no, Blinkie really couldn’t figure it out. After a moment of innocently confused silence, Minkie peered through her curtain of unkempt hair and saw Blinkie’s wide yellow eyes waiting curiously and patiently for more. “Oh! Um .. well I guess I mean, it’s not some big mystery … ” Minkie said, setting her book down beside her and tucking a hoof full of hair behind her ear “Papa.. He wrapped up my arms when I'd have outbursts, but of course when Mama said It was my fault when I hurt myself … He stopped helping me take care of my wounds .. ” She didn't mean to say so much, but it felt like her muzzle took the authority from her, and said it anyway. She looked down in shameful sorrow and let her eyelids sag and protect her pupils from the sight of disapproval she instinctively thought was coming, but Minkie took a glance at the floor beside her and then up at her sister … there was no disapproval. There was no hatred or disgust in the lavender mare’s eyes toward her dear older sister. Just a look of sincere apology, it didn't feel like pity; It felt like a true “sorry” one she had never gotten but had daydreamed about, she didn't even think she deserved an apology but there it was. Not in the form of words or actions but a genuine expression, something genuine enough to make Minkie’s droopy-lidded eyes go wide in astonishment. “Blinkie, it’s not a big deal … we all fended for ourselves back then. I’m no different …” She said, trying to get that expression off of her sister’s face. This authenticity was too much for her. Blinkie herself looked down at the floor and fiddled with her hooves once again. “Why would he do that; why did he do all this for Mama? I just can’t … I won’t understand why it was up to-” Blinkie paused and hid the heartbreak on her face behind her bangs. “ ... Mama, when he loved us.” She spat out with disgruntled stale venom. Minkie wondered why this was only coming up now, and why would Blinkie choose to talk to her of all ponies? This didn’t seem situational, almost as if Blinkie wouldn’t ask this to somepony else if Minkie happened to leave to get supplies. There was something more, wasn't there? Minkie gently set a hoof with long overgrown fetlock on her sister’s shoulder. “What did you really want to talk about?” she asked as softly as she could manage, Blinkie seemed a bit scared by the realization that Minkie knew something more was lurking over this conversation. She wanted to work up her often present courage, but it had disappeared before she even realized which way it went. Blinkie held her hind legs close and buried her head in her lap. Was now the right time? She was ashamed, everything felt sweaty and jittery. Blinkie took a long shaky breath and looked up. “Minkie, I really thought Papa liked me. Y’know? I thought I was his favorite … and he never really understood me being a girl, but he was never like, mean about it. Except when he’d say I wasn’t pretty, and tell me the right word was handsome or whatever.” Blinkie’s gaze softened and faltered. For now, she would stop fighting whatever this emotion was. Then she continued “I was pretty young, eight maybe? Inkie was in town and Pa’ was busy in the fields … I felt real pretty that day. So I went to Mama’s closet.” Blinkie slightly leaned on Minkie, though her older sister was quite a lot shorter than her and it did look silly, Blinkie found it very comforting. Though she often hated physical touch. Minkie shuttered, this kind of contact from Blinkie was startling. They often fought and scrapped over little things, Minkie almost raised a hoof but stopped herself … this was kind of nice. And she didn’t want to see Blinkie sad like this. So she slowly patted the large shuttering mare’s shoulder. Blinkie smiled, ready to continue the story “I looked so pretty in the mirror … I had bracelets, them clip-on earrings, even a pearl necklace … I started to put on lipstick I found in a drawer. Then Mama saw me. Swear my arm almost came out of the socket when she pulled me out of the house, she didn’t even care that she broke the necklace, and all that pretty jewelry was dropping in the dirt as she dragged me out to the barn. I think she was yelling something about the devil … “ Blinkie stopped and sniffled as quietly as she could, Minkie wanted to apologize. Do something. But all she could think of was an awkward joke “ … Seems like she always was” She said, surprisingly Blinkie chuckled; it was true. Mama always scared her children with threats of hell and brimstone whenever they did something slightly annoying. Sad? Sure. Traumatic? Absolutely, but comedically ridiculous when Blinkie thought back on it. “Never a dull day with that crazy bitch!” She laughed out, but the laughter slowly faded as the memories became more clear. More vivid … they weren’t so funny anymore. “Papa still had his metal workin’ stuff in there, the furnace was fired up. I should've been scared. But I just thought to myself that he left it on because he knew he’d be comin’ back soon … he’d save me any second now. I was a pretty dumb kid.” A melancholy chuckle moved her shoulders slightly, Minkie wasn’t laughing or even moving. She didn’t know what the end of this story would be, or if she wanted to know. Minkie was scared. Cloudy Quartz had always been cruel, and angry. Her children knew that better than anyone.. Minkie knew that better than anyone. She stroked Blinkie’s messy light lavender hair and stayed strong, this was about Blinkie; She’d listen to Blinkie as long as she could. “Mama threw me on the floor, I heard her pick up something heavy from Pa’s workbench. When I looked she was holding something in the furnace with the tongs … the fire was too bright to see what it was. When I tried to get away she stomped on my back to keep me in place. I think she said something about god, or how I had forgotten the teachings of god. Sounded like gibberish with how mad she was. I was crying but I could still see what she took out from the furnace. It was Papa’s cross that he kept hanging on his workbench, beautiful thing it was. Said when I was older he’d give it to me because I liked it so damn much. Kinda wanted to make it a necklace or something.” The air was cold and stinging, empathy wasn’t lost on Obsidian. She wanted to cry herself now, knowing nothing good was to come of this. “Pa’ opened up the barn door, I couldn’t see it in the dark, but Mama was all sweaty and her hair had fallen out of that tight bun she always kept it in. Her hairband was still caught up in her mane. Her eyes looked so red … I yelled for him to help me. He looked at me, then to Mama … “ Blinkie stopped as if that was the end. Or she couldn’t get it out. Minkie spoke up “What did he do..?” She said, though she was dreading the answer. Blinkie didn’t look at her, just sulked further behind her bangs and finally said it. “Mama gave him a look. Then he stepped back out … shut the door. No doubt in my mind Pa’ heard me screaming when she shoved that cross down on the back of my shoulder, nearly woke the dead with all my hollering.” Minkie was shivering, it felt like she was slowly frosting over from the horror. Slowly she leaned back and took a shallow breath before peering at her sister’s shoulder blade. Surely enough, a holy scar became clear, long since healed but still fur refused to grow over it. How had Minkie never noticed? Blinkie was tall and it wasn’t exactly easy to look at her back, and perhaps she took extra steps to hide it. But nopony had ever mentioned it. Did anypony else even know? “Have you.. Did you tell Inkie? P-Pinkie? Any of us?” Minkie asked impatiently, Minkie didn’t believe she could be so important that her sister would confide in her, specifically her. “Just you, I thought you’d understand. Seeing as you and Pa’ were close..” Blinkie said as she held onto her frail sister’s arm for comfort. There wasn’t anything that could be said or done now, but Minkie Pie hoped there was a way to make it better. She hugged her poor burned sister closely, holding back tears of frustration. How could all this injustice befall fillies? How was it fair that everypony else was so damn lucky?! Blinkie sighed and held back a sob, it choked up her breath like it was tied in knots. She wanted to laugh and lighten the mood but it only let burning tears escape her eyes, and streak shining lines down her cheeks. Her smile faltered and cracked as she let herself sob into Minkie’s shoulder. Nothing could make this better; the past was permanent and its cruelty was forever lost on lucky ponies. And those with scars, visible or not, would always be outcasts in this world. Author's Note This side story was inspired by the song “Devil on My Shoulder” by Billy Talent, my favorite band hehe! :3