Chapters Everypony tells me that I’m just an Earth pony. Everypony tells me that I can’t do anything special. Everypony tells me that, because I have no wings or horns, I’m not able to do much. But that’s not true at all.
See, I live in a town where nearly everypony is either a Pegasus or a Unicorn. There are rare moments that there are Earth ponies as well, but those are rid of just as fast as they come, either by being driven away or moving out of town themselves. So the entire population is “magical”, as they call it. Well, almost the entire population.
My parents and I have a house in Town Square that’s surrounded by other houses. In the middle of it is a huge food market, and that’s where Mother and Father work. They are grape and wine makers, and make money by selling it at town. There’s also a vineyard that we own a little ways away from the town. We don’t make piles of bits, but we have enough.
My job is to harvest all the grapes and take them back to the house to be made into wine. Sure, my special talent isn’t exciting, and having a basket of grapes as your cutie mark isn’t as fun, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Some ponies tell me that my life would be so much easier if I had a horn or wings. Then I could just levitate all the grapes at once, or get the grapes to the house much faster. That’s not what makes me special, though, and that’s exactly what I tell them. They only glare and walk away.
Ponies think I’m hurt by their words. They think that whenever they stare or yell at me, or offend me, that I will break down and cry. The few immature ponies that litter the vineyard or put graffiti all over the barn there think that we will bail out and go away. But we don’t. I’m surprised they don’t try to hurt us very often, but I won’t put it past them anymore.
Mother tells me that they’re jealous of us, and that’s why they hate Earth ponies. Unicorns are much more fragile than we are, and Pegasi can only wish of the power we have with the earth. If a Pegasus or Unicorn tried to do my job, they would surely give up in a matter of hours. And that’s why I don’t want to be like them.
I go to a normal school in the town. It’s small and only has one room in it, but we don’t need that much space. Every Thursday and Friday is when the ponies my age go to class; the ponies not yet ready for adult schooling, but don’t have to sit through elementary, either. It usually means a day off of work for me, which I enjoy.
Including me, there are twelve students. Most are Pegasi, a few are Unicorns, and only one is an Earth pony. Me. But that doesn’t stop me from getting a full education.
The sad thing is that even the teacher doesn’t pay much attention to me. You would expect her to at least stop all the bullying or something, but it’s sometimes her that starts it. So you could imagine the isolation in the nine hours of school I have to take.
I don’t like to complain, though, so I just tolerate it and sit out in the last row, in the left corner, in the cold and the dark, and strain to hear the teacher’s lesson. If I had the courage, I would definitely ask her to speak louder or to let me in the front of the class, but that would just get her angrier. So I just tolerate it.
I make good grades, though. The Equestrian laws from Princess Celestia require that I do not get grades based on how the teachers think of me, but on my performance in the class. I get mostly A’s, with a few B’s, and I’ve never gotten a grade based on what type of pony I am. Yet.
The rest of the week is when I have either work or free time. When I have nothing else to do, I end up going to the sweet shoppe down the road from where I live. That may be the only place without discrimination, because once I step through that door, I feel equal with everypony else.
The cashier there, Buttercream, is why I keep going back. She’s a Unicorn, but she seems to not care that I’m not. Unless her boss comes in to check up on her performance, she doesn’t get hateful or anything. The only reason she ever gets angry around me is when he comes in; whenever she glares at me, it hurts, but deep down inside I know it's an act. I’m kind of amazed at how good she is at it, too.
The place is named Sweet Cakes, and they live up to their name perfectly. They serve anything that’s cake or is related to it. It’s the greatest cake I’ve ever tasted, too! I always end up having to take the leftovers home, and my parents eat that up as well.
Since ponies rarely come by the place, I have a feeling that they may shut down for good soon. If they don’t make enough bits, they can’t afford to stay open. I wish I could help them, but with the few bits we earn from the market, we’d have to go out of business as well if we did. Then we’d have to leave. I don’t want to leave.
Other than the Sweet Cakes place, there’s not much to do here. There’s a roller skating rink, bowling alley, and a park as well, but those strictly prohibit Earth ponies. At least the sweet shoppe lets me in, or else I would be bored to death.
I’ve nearly been arrested for minding my own business before. I was on one pony’s property and had no idea until they came out and started getting angry. He threatened to call the police and left before I could justify myself. It was only a week ago, too.
It was a nice Sunday morning, and I had finished my chores early, so I could go for a walk. There weren’t many other ponies out, but I was glad. There would be a lot of noise and shoving - ”special” or not - and that wouldn’t be a good peaceful walk.
The wind was soft and gentle as it blew through my braid, and I had a feeling it would be a good day. Who knew that I was so wrong? I wish I had known better as to walk through the streets alone.
I was walking along when I decided to sit down on a bench and enjoy the sun’s warmth or something. There was a seat nearby, and I quickly sat down, wrapping my tail around me. It was calm and quiet. It was a good thing I had gotten to town square before the crowds came, or else the seats would have been full and I would have tripped over ponies and things would have started off badly.
“Hey, you!” I turned around at the sound of a stallion’s fuming voice, my heart beating faster. At the house behind the bench was a Pegasus standing outside the door, his eyes shooting daggers at me. When I didn’t say anything, he yelled, “What are you doing?!”
I didn’t know what exactly to say. “I-I’m sitting, sir...!” I stammered. Was there a law that I didn’t know about saying I couldn’t sit on a bench? "Is there s-something wrong?"
He got even angrier. “That’s my bench, you filthy brat! Get off of my property!”
I jumped off the bench and stared at him, not sure of what to do anymore. I was scared. It had been a while since something like this happened. “S-sorry!” I cried.
“‘Sorry’ ain’t gonna cut it!” he said, and for a second I thought he would try to hurt me. I stumbled back away from what was apparently his property until I was in the road. But he didn’t seem to care I was gone now and shouted, “Be glad I’m nice enough not to tell the police on you! Earth ponies aren’t supposed to be here, anyways!”
Then he slammed the door behind him, leaving me shaken and afraid. Was he getting the police? Before anything could happen to me, I turned and ran back to my house, tears loosely falling.
Ever since then, I’ve refrained from sitting on benches, in case it’s somepony else’s. Some aren’t so “nice”, as they call it, and would actually get the police. Then we would all be kicked out of town. We would be broke, homeless, and it would be all of my fault. This means my hooves hurt a lot more, but it’s better off that way.
Have you ever heard the story of the founding of Equestria? I went to the Canterlot pageant two years ago after we saved up enough bits to get there by train. I learned a lot from that experience.
When I entered the theatre, I felt like I was in a whole new world. There were Pegasi and Earth ponies talking nicely to each other, and Unicorns weren’t telling Earth ponies they were useless. Instead, there was harmony. Something I had only heard of in books, but never in real life.
I was in the very first row so I could get a good look. Next to me were three young fillies; an orange Pegasus, a white Unicorn, and a yellow... Earth pony. They were smiling and laughing, talking about their next crusade for their cutie marks. It was a sight for sore, blind eyes.
The beginning of the play reminded me a lot of our town. The Earth ponies were down on the food chain, while the Unicorns and Pegasi demanded everything from them. Typical.
Then it got worse at the meeting, and I almost wanted to leave. I knew it was a play and all, but still. The poor chancellor and her Earth ponies were made fun of by the commander. “What a shocker! An Earth pony with no ideas!” she had said, and I felt a bit offended. Then again, it was Commander Hurricane, not the rainbow-y pony playing him.
I liked Smart Cookie, Clover the Clever, and Private Pansy much better. They were treating one another equally, like nopony was better than the other. I began to wonder why that had changed so much over the years.
My favorite part, though, was the ending. Everypony was happy together, so much unlike our town. I wished it was like that every day.
Then everypony suddenly stood up, and I was confused. Even Mother and Father were up next to me, and they quietly ushered me up as well. The bells rang above the stage, and loud music played. What was going on? Was there something happening that you had to stand up to see? I was lucky to be up front, otherwise I wouldn't have seen a thing in front of me.
Then the ponies around me - even Mother and Father - began to sing.
The fire of friendship lives in our hearts,
As long as it burns we cannot drift apart.
I recognized this song. Mother used to play it on the piano around Hearth's Warming Eve. Finally snapped out of confusion, I was soon singing as well.
Though quarrels arise, their numbers are few.
Laughter and singing will see us through!
We are a circle of pony friends,
A circle of friends we'll be to the very end!
After the play was over, I didn’t want to go back home. I liked it in Canterlot better, and I didn’t want to see those other ponies again. If they had tried to act like the ponies in the play, I would actually enjoy it in the town.
We went back to the town where everything was the same. After seeing that play, I’ve been secretly praying that things would change. I’m not saying that I want to change, that’d just be stupid, but I think there should be equality in my little town.
For now, I’ll have to deal with me being treated like a pile of dirt for Celestia knows how long. Maybe someday they’ll learn that Earth ponies really are useful. Without us, there wouldn’t be any nature or earth-grown food. Grapes are pretty much the only healthy thing in the town, since the other fruits and vegetables are filled with chemicals.
Without us, there wouldn’t be uniqueness. There would just be Unicorns and Pegasi, and that wouldn’t be as fun. Where would the interestingness be? The other ponies may not realize that, but I do. Somepony needs to have an open mind here.
Without us, there wouldn’t be any specialness.
Because I am special.
I’m just the only one who knows it.
It was a normal Saturday evening, just like any other Saturday evening. The golden sun was just beginning its descent as turned a blushing pink, and I had the perfect view for watching it, at the window seat. I also had the perfect dessert as well; a chocolate and vanilla marble swirl with strawberry slices on top. A small glass of lemon tea sat next to me. The smell and the sunset made everything, for lack of a better word, perfect.
Other than Butter Cream at the counter, I was alone. Her boss had left her in charge of the shoppe, and it wasn’t as busy as weekdays were. It had been almost ten minutes since I had gotten there, and there had been no idle chat yet. I was surprised.
I took another dainty bite of the cake, chewing thoughtfully. There wasn’t much to think about, but it was one of those moments where you just reflect on life. For me, eating cake somehow triggered those thoughts. The room was eerily yet comfortably quiet.
“Hey, Grape Vine.”
Hearing my name, I turned toward the cream and white Unicorn, who was staring at me curiously with wide blue eyes. I swallowed the now over-chewed piece of cake and tilted my head. “Yeah?”
She was cleaning a plate with her magic, and I was straining to not stare as the china floated at her side. “I was just wondering...”
“Yeah?” I repeated with a frown, hoping she would get to the point. I wanted to watch the sun.
Butter Cream set down the glass and gave me a harder look. “Why do you and your family insist on staying in this racist town?” she asked, and I froze from taking another bite of cake. “I mean, you guys get so much hate I’m not surprise you haven’t packed up like the others.”
I sighed, then gazed down at the cup of tea at my side. The fumes rose and tickled my nose with the scent of lemon. “I don’t leave,” I finally said after a moment’s thinking. “because I like it here. That’s simple enough, right?”
She blinked a few times at me, then became concerned with my mental health. “You like it here? How?”
“It’s nice here.” Remaining emotionless, I sipped my tea and licked my lips.
Butter Cream did not seem to be satisfied with her answers. In fact, she seemed upset and confused. She walked out from behind the counter and stood in front of me, then slammed her hooves onto the table. The hot mixture splashed a bit.
“It’s not nice here, Grape Vine, and you know it!” she retorted in a low voice, trying not to add attention from outside the shoppe. I scooted my chair back in a jolt of surprise.
I could see why she was so upset. After hearing stories about my stress living in that town, and all the heartache I lived with, she didn’t think I should’ve lived there anymore. Almost every day she had consoled me about it, but she had never gotten that mad about it.
“I just want to live here, okay?” I said, and my voice rose into a higher volume.. “I doesn’t matter whether you think I shouldn’t, because it’s none of your business!”
Butter Cream continued to stare at me with a long, hard gaze, but I could see the hurt in her eyes. I had known her long enough to know I had hurt her feelings by just looking into her eyes. She couldn’t hide it.
After a pause that felt like a never-ending hour, the Unicorn took a few steps away, and her expression softened. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, then turned and walked back around the counter. My heart was fluttering wildly in my chest like a bird in a cage, unsure of what to do anymore.
Before either of us could do anything else, Butter Cream froze and whipped around to face me, her face wide in panic. “Grape Vine! Hide under the table with your food! Hurry!” she said with a voice sharp and quiet as ice.
I didn’t know why she would want me to do such a thing, but in this town, you’re never safe for long. So I grabbed the cake and tea, then scurried under the table. The tea splashed onto the seat and floor with my quick movements, and I cursed between deep breaths. It would be fine for now, at least.
A quiet moment, then the sound of hoofsteps grew into earshot. At first, it was unclear who it was or what was going on. But I heard the gruff yell of her boss and my once cageless heart flew free.
“I saw you in the window talking to that Earth pony!” he shouted. “What do you think you’re doing?”
There wasn’t a second wasted when Butter Cream spoke up. “What Earth pony?” She was better at lying then I thought.
“The one I saw that-” Another awkward silence; I was scared somepony could hear my heartbeat. Then he said, “Why is there tea spilled all over my seats and floor?”
“Horseapples,” I whispered a bit too loudly, then gasped and covered my face with a hoof. A bad move on my part.
The stallion’s hoofsteps drew closer, and I wanted to burst out screaming or crying. But I couldn’t, so I didn’t. I saw his brown face right in front of mine. It quickly went from the coffee brown to a poppy red. A red of anger and deception. I froze in my spot, unable to try and run away. I was scared.
Lucky for me, the boss moved myself for me. He grabbed me by the braid with his magic and yanked me abruptly to his face. I felt like an abused ragdoll, and if he got angrier, I’m sure that’s what I would have been turned into. “What is this?” he shouted at Butter Cream. I looked at the two ponies, my chest in knots.
To my disappointment, Butter Cream was silent. Not only that, but ashamed as well. It was as if she felt like what she was doing was wrong.
But it wasn’t wrong. She thought I was special, right?
“I don’t know why that’s in here,” she said in a firm voice that pleaded for mercy and made me scared all at once. “I’m sorry, sir, I’ll escort her out.”
With a jerk he let go of me and tossed my towards the front door, where I was knocked against the wood. The bell above me jingled. “I wouldn’t even bother with escorting it, just get it out.” The boss left us alone.
Butter Cream didn’t speak another word and used her head to push me out of the door. I was hurting both emotionally and physically already, and being shoved by my best friend wasn’t helping.
“What are you doing?” I asked when we got outside. “Why didn’t you stand up for me?”
“It’s for the best, Viney. For both of us.” She frowned at me.
I swear if you could hear a heart shatter, you would be able to hear it then. “But why?!” I repeated.
“Look, do you want me to keep my job or not?” she retorted, slamming her hoof onto the ground. “Just stay away from me and the shoppe, all right?” She turned and left without waiting for my reply. Like I even had a reply. Had I just gotten ditched by my so called “friend?”
I think I just did.
Usually I wouldn’t drink somepony else’s wine, because I could just make my own at my house, but that night was an exception. Actually, I rarely ever drank. So when I stepped inside the bar, the smell of the liquor hit me harder than I was used to. But instead of shirking away, I took in a brave deep sniff and continued inside.
Thankfully, the ponies at that bar didn’t give a crap about what you look like, so I was perfectly fine. The only reason I never mentioned it before was because I felt like the shoppe was a better example. It’s normal to be accepted at any bar, really.
I wouldn’t call it a bar, either. It doesn’t serve anything hard, just stuff that makes you a bit too giggly. I’d be fine, right?
I took a seat at the counter and laid my head on top of my hooves, staring at the selection behind it. Finally, when the bartender came close, I said. “Just give me some wine.”
The stallion, a blue Pegasus with black hair not much older than me, chuckled and said, “We’re a specific one, aren’t we?” I just glared at him. He sighed and turned away to fix me a glass, saying, “Tell me what’s up.”
I didn’t hesitate, wanting to talk about it right there and then. “Do you know that Butter Cream mare that works at the cafe down the road?” I asked.
He nodded, pushing dark red liquid in a tall, curving glass toward me. I picked it up with a hoof, having learned how to lift things without magic easily, and took in a good amount. “Well, she ditched me because I’m an Earth pony.”
The stallion suddenly looked at me in surprise. “You’re an Earth pony? I didn't even notice."
"You're not going to kick me out, are you?" I questioned, grabbing my wine and pulling it closer to me.
He smiled and shook his head. "Hey, more customers equal more money. I'm not going to get rid of money. Now, do go on," he said, gazing at me like I was expected to talk.
And I did. I told him about hiding from the boss, my hair being yanked, and being rejected by my only friend. I scarcely remember what exactly I told him. It was not a good ride down the memory rollercoaster, let me tell you. To my pleasure, the bartender sat and listened, and throwing in his own two cents every once and awhile, too.
An hour or two had passed, and we had moved onto different conversation. The while Butter Cream incident was way past me. And so was everything else. I wasn't screaming out my favorite song or anything, but I was extremely giggly.
"So I sit down at the bench," I said after a fit of laughter. "and this guy just starts yelling at me to get off his property! Can you believe that?"
The bartender laughed, even though I knew deep inside I was not that funny. "Hey, what time are you leaving? I mean, I'm not saying I don't like you or anything, but, uh…"
I grinned, then looked at the clock on the wall 9:00 PM. My face distorted into a terrified one. "Sweet Celestia, I gotta go!" I cried, hopping off of the seat. I plopped a hooffull of bits onto the counter and fast-wobbled out the door.
The last thing I heard from that guy was "Uh, you forgot your change…!"
I was able to sneak past my sleeping parents without waking them up that night. The next morning was complete chaos, to the point where I was locked in my room, fed by plates pushed under doors and relieving myself into a pile of paper. They certainly didn't want me back outside.
Thankfully, that was the first and last time I went into any bar. Next time, I just made five-minute grape juice.
The soft sound of a piano played through the halls of my house. It was firm yet calming, like a mother’s voice. Coincidentally, it was my mother playing the piano, so it made sense. As her hooves tickled the ivory, I sat comfortably on the couch not too far from her, a pleased grin on my face and half-lidded eyes.
My mother, Sparkling Wine, is a very elegant mare. Her coat is a shimmering snowy white, her eyes the color of lavender. Her purple mane flows down her back like an amethyst river, and her cutie mark is a glistening bottle of wine. She always insists on having her wine “sparkling” and in a champagne glass, a piano at her reach every time we move, and a mirror so she can dress and do her hair each morning.
In short, she’s really persnickety.
But, thankfully, her kindness is more significant than that. She loves everypony, even if they never love her back. She has a heart of gold and tries to keep things peaceful and in balance. It makes sense that she’s a libra. Dad and other ponies tell me that I remind them of her, but my dull coat and boring mane don’t compare to her beauty.
At that moment, the day’s harvest was over, so we had nothing better to do than sit and listen to Mom play piano. It was a great way to spend the evening after a long twenty-four hours of hard work. She was amazing at playing piano.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, feeling a bit guilty afterwards for stopping her music.
Mom paused and turned to smile at me. Her hair was in a bun with two stray bits, and they swayed as she turned. “Yes, dear, what is it?” she asked.
I sat up on the couch, letting out a sigh before saying, “Why do we continue to stay here?”
The smile Mom had put on faltered a little. There was an awkward pause, like she was thinking hard. She shouldn’t have to think hard, though, should she? It was a simple question that required a semi-simple answer.
“We, well...” she began, struggling to find the correct words. I saw her eyes wander around from me to the floor, and I narrowed my brows. “It’s hard to explain. Why don’t you go find your father?” she finally answered, giving me her best that’s-my-story-and-I’m-sticking-to-it smile. I wasn’t about to accept that, though.
I sat up straighter. “There has to be some reason. You know what’s been going on here,” I said, and my voice lowered as I continued, “And you know what happened to Grape Soda when we first got here.”
Hurt flashed over Mom’s eyes, and for a second I thought she would yell at me for saying such a thing. But she sat there with resilience that I hadn’t seen in months.
“We have our reasons, Viney,” she said. “And that’s that.”
She used my nickname/name she used when I got in trouble. Defeated, my ears flattened against my head. “But-”
“No buts! Now go to your room!” Before I could say anything else, Mom whipped back around and her hooves hit the ivory keys hard.
I wasn’t going to argue with her anymore. If we went farther, things would be said that could never be taken back. I slid off the couch and went up the stairs, not looking back again. I could hear a louder crunch of the keys, most likely her head, and soft sobs barely heard from my room above the room.
I sat on the bed feeling guilty as heck for what seemed like hours, until heavy hoofsteps echoed from behind the door. Picking up my head, I turned and saw come through the doorway.
My father, Sour Grapes, is just a little less elegant than Mom is, being raised a grape farmer and all. His coat is a deep gray, almost black color, and his forest green mane is as neat as a farm pony can make it. His hair reveals black hooves. But, besides the dark fur, his eyes are a sapphire blue, gentle like water.
When he entered, my stomach both turned into knots and was relieved. How, though, I’m not sure. I knew he would find some way to even out the folds in my mood. Most likely he already did with Mom, as the sobbing soon stopped after a few minutes.
I silently scooted over to make room for him. Dad sat down and looked at me. I was unable to read his emotions, like always, so I had no idea whether to be afraid or happy that he was there.
“Hi, Dad,” I muttered, unable to look away from his eyes.
“I heard what happened with you and your mother,” he said. “and I wanted you to know that she forgives you.”
My blood started boiling, but only some. “That still doesn’t answer my question!” I retorted, and he slightly jumped. “I don’t want to be forgiven, I want answers!”
“What kind of answers?”
“Answers as to why we’re here!”
He put a hoof to a head. “Well, an Alicorn named Queen Faust created the world from nothingness with her hooves and...”
He paused when he realized I was fuming like a kettle on a burner. “That’s not what I meant. I meant why we’re in this town when we’re being banned from living in this town! I get bullied, you and Mom usually have somepony rant at you every day, and you know what happened to Grape Soda when we first got here! Obviously we don’t belong here and it’s hurting us!”
At the end of my speech, I was quite the sight. My breaths were heavy, my eyes were dilated, and sweat came down in beads from my forehead. My throat ached, just like my heart.
Dad let out a long sigh. “Do you honestly want to know?”
I gulped and nodded.
“I’ve heard you tell other ponies about how strong you are. How you put up with the pain of this town and say that you’re special just the way you are, and that’s why you stay.”
“I do that because I have to!” I objected.
He frowned. “I wasn’t finished.”
“Sorry.”
“But the truth is, we’re here because we have no other choice.”
I looked over at him with wide eyes, my mind blown into smithereens. “W-what?”
Dad nodded somberly. “The law forbids us from ever moving away from this town. If we do, we could be sent to prison or even sentenced to death.”
Death? “But why?”
“I don’t know, Viney,” he said, shaking his head. “Somehow, we had signed something somewhere and, as a result, we can’t leave.”
“We can’t ask Celestia if we can leave?”
“She’s the one who set the law in the first place.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“We knew you’d take it like you are now.”
I ran out of questions and was at a loss of words to the point where my mind searched frantically for a reason. “But...” I finally choked. “...why?”
He sighed again. “My theory is that it’s not us, but the town.”
“The town?”
“This town has done some very interesting... things in the past, and as punishment, nobody can leave once they return.”
“Doesn’t that mean that ponies can’t enter, either? I mean, that would make sense and all,” I asked, tilting my head.
Dad shrugged with no reply.
There was a long pause. Emotions dragged it out for however long it lasted until I shifted in my seat and leaned over onto his lap. He didn’t move, but instead laid a hoof down onto my head and began to stroke my green and dark green braid.
“Dad...” I started in a quiet voice.
He looked down at me. “Yes?”
“Do you think we’ll ever find Grape Soda?”
I could hear him choke up a bit as he said, “Of course we will. I know she’s not too far gone.”
I smiled a little bit wider and nestled deep into his front legs. “Good. I’m lonely here.”
Dad just chuckled and kissed me on the head. Slowly but surely we both slipped into a dark, dreamy land of peace.
It was the next morning. A Sunday. I had free time for the entire day, after both Mom and Dad insisted that they let me have fun alone. Though they still didn’t understand that there weren’t any other ponies that liked me. They knew about Butter Cream, but not what had happened the week before. They just knew I had gotten tipsy.
Instead of staying inside town boundaries, I went out to the entrance. There were no buildings there, and rarely anypony came there. So I was all alone, and I liked it.
As I lay in the thick fields of grass and flowers, I gazed upon the town sign.
Coltington: The Home of the Proud
Somepony had scratched out the “proud” part of it and replaced it in scraggly hoofwriting with “RACIST JERKS” and other words that I will not repeat. I sighed, feeling sorry for the town I lived in, but knowing most of their words were true.
“Don’t worry, Grape Soda,” I whispered to only me. “We’ll leave this town soon with everypony in this family. You’ll see.”
Clouds hung over my head, and a bitter wind nipped at my body. I began to wonder why I decided to go on a walk in the first place when the Pegasi warned us about a light dusting. I must have really wanted to go on a walk or something.
The ponies around me, despite our differences, seemed to have the same thoughts going through their heads. They looked really cold, just like me, and were making hasty glances towards their houses. Lucky for me-not-my house was almost a half mile away, so I really couldn’t look at it or run fast to it.
As I walked/shivered my way down the cobblestone road, the wind quickened and the cold became even more harsh. I wanted to gallop straight home, but my legs were starting to become numb and it was getting harder to even walk.
The Pegasi hadn’t told us it would get that bad. I wanted to give the ones passing by a piece of my mind, insisting that they do something, but they were just as confused and angry as I was. Some of them were stopping to look up at the sky and stare at the gathering clouds, and I couldn’t help but do the same.
They were getting closer, darker, and definitely colder. After a few seconds, though, I couldn’t tell anymore, as it was starting to blanket snow onto us and my hair whipped into my face.
I glanced around hopefully, wishing for somepony to help me, but, as always, nopony wanted to. And my parents never left the house very much, so they were safe and warm inside the house now.
Suddenly, a bright light shone a ways away from me. The Town Hall had opened wide and was welcoming ponies inside. To be warm. To be safe. I smiled and started running that way, but the pony holding the doors saw me and frowned, then made sure all the other ponies were inside and slammed the door when I had almost reached the doorway.
I stood there, freezing and shaking as the blizzard raged on. I could feel tears edging to break free.
My braid suddenly flew loose as the violet ribbon holding them together drifted away towards the sky. “Oh, ponyfeathers!” I shrieked, trying to reach out and get it, but it was far too late.
The reason I kept my hair in a braid was because it was too long to work extended hours outside with. My double-shaded green hair was just an inch from touching the ground, and it was soaked and cold now. Not only that, but, since it was braided 24/7, no joke, it was crimped to perfection now as it was breaking caution to the terrifying wind.
I looked pretty dang good in crimped hair, but that wasn’t my main focus at the moment.
Honestly, though, I had no main focus then. My thoughts were flooding my train of thought and pushing it clean off the tracks, into the icy water. As I stood on the road, this was the only thing to come out of my mouth.
“AAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHH!”
I let out that string of air and slumped my head, feeling frozen to the ground. Then a voice of an angel reached my ears, along with a glowing yellow light.
“Yo, Grape-Butt! The one with the awesome-looking mane! The wet one! Yeah, you!”
...Close enough. I looked up and the doors to Town Hall were open again. But this time, it was a single mare my age holding it open with a concerned look on her face. I couldn’t tell what she looked like or what race she was due to the snow, but I didn’t care at the moment. I ran into the building, and the mare shut the door behind me.
“Welcome to the party, chick!” she said with a grin, hoofing me a towel.
The Pegasus had a light blue coat and a neon pink mane. Her bangs rolled off her head in thick curls, while the back was gathered to the high heavens with two hairbands. She had on dark blue eyeshadow and dark mascara, and on her hooves were plethoras of more hair bands and ties. To top it all off, she smelt like expensive hairspray. To be honest, she looked like the 80s rolled into one pony.
“Uh, thanks,” I managed, then began rubbing my hair with the towel. Droplets spread everywhere, but the new pony didn’t seem to notice, nor particularly care. She didn’t even seem to care that I was an Earth pony, though I knew for a fact that she saw already.
“I’m Scrunchy!” she said, fluffing her huge ponytail like she was proud of it. I wouldn’t be proud of a tangled mess of bright pink hair covered in spray and sparkles, but that’s just me. “And... who’re you?”
I set down the towel and began, “I’m Grape Vine-”
But she interrupted me as if she didn’t care. “And what do you think you were doing in that storm? Don’t you know a blizzard when you see one, gurl?”
I frowned at her. “Why are you Pegasi letting in such a storm, anyways?”
She shrugged. “Dunno. We don’t choose the weather, dude, we just bring it in. If we were in charge, we would totes just have sun all the time.”
I was about to question Scrunchy’s use of “totes,” until she turned and started walking. I took this as a cue to follow her and trailed in her path.
“We’re staying in here until the storm dies down. This is where my family is,” she said, and we stopped at a corner of the house. There were two normal-looking Pegasi, probably her parents, huddled in a blanket, and a younger filly wrapped in a towel shivering and sneezing. “Hey, I brought a pony I found outside.”
Her mother gave me one of those motherly stares of concern and worry that I knew so much from my own Mom. “Oh, are you okay, dear? You look... wet,” she asked. “And cold.”
“I’ll be fine after a few minutes,” I answered, then sat down a good distance away, but not too far from their little blanket corner.
Then, finally, Scrunchy took notice of my hair predicament. “Wow, you’re hair’s looking fiiiiine, gurl. Where’d you get it done?” Well, not necessarily.
I sighed. “The rain did it. It used to be braided, but the wind blew the ribbon away and undid the entire thing,” I said.
Scrunchy’s face suddenly lit up and I was scared. “I could redo your hair for you! I won’t make it stylin’ or anything, but I’ll get it back to its original shape in a jiff.” Her already creepy grin widened.
I really didn’t want her to touch me, let alone touch my hair, so a part of me begged to decline. But I didn’t want to break her heart, and she had already done so much to me, even if she didn’t realize it. “I guess...” I said and almost instantly regretted it.
She pulled me closer to her and spun me around to where my back was facing her. I cast a hopeful look to her parents, but they just looked proud of their daughter for doing something so nice. I wasn’t going to object, though, and let her begin.
We weren’t even ten seconds in and she had already gotten three even strands of hair and was braiding them together. Her hooves were like magic. They weren’t pulling too hard, the chunks of hair were perfectly even, and there were no flyaways or stray hair strands. Was that her special talent? Doing hair? I hadn’t gotten to look at her cutie mark yet.
A minute passed, and she twisted the final piece of hair, then quickly wrapped a purple scrunchy-go figure-around it. It was amazing.
“Thank you so much!” I said, turning around. Then I noticed the color of the band. “How did you know the ribbon was purple.”
Scrunchy shrugged. “I didn’t,” she said simply and innocently. “It seemed to match you, though. Did I do good?” Her front hooves clapped together like an excited little filly.
I nodded, and her baby blue eyes glowed with happiness at my compliment.
We both wadded ourselves up with blankets. Scrunchy snuggled closer to her mother, while I sat next to her sister. She looked colder than she should have been, so I welcomed her inside my own bundle of warmth. With her parents’ permission, of course.
Ponies passed by, not really giving us any mind. They only ever really paid attention to our huddle twice. Once was to pass out tiny bowls of hot soup and more blankets, and the other time was to tell us what was happening with the weather.
At that moment, the snow hadn’t stopped and had risen to the point where we couldn’t get out for another few hours until it melted. It was my best guess that the sun was starting to set as well, so my own parents were probably losing their minds worrying about me. They probably thought I was lost, hurt, or worse. If only they knew.
I looked down at the little purple and white ball of fur and feathers at my side. Her breathing sounded like she was struggling to get air each time, and I felt bad for the poor filly. I stroked her pure white mane as she went deeper and deeper into Dreamland.
Time seemed to creep slow. I couldn’t sleep, due to being scared of being trapped in there for longer than I wanted to, so I was one of the few awake. Even Scrunchy was asleep, to my surprise. She snored louder than a mare should, and that was another reason I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t help it, but I started thinking about where Grape Soda would be. Would she be out in the cold, freezing to death? Or did she already find shelter? The chances of her being dead already didn’t seem to pass in my mind.
I sat there for the longest time until something nudged at my side. I turned and saw the filly stick her head up from the fleece sheets. Her father told me her name... Lavender, I think. “Is... is it morning yet?” she murmured in the cutest voice I had ever heard. I sadly shook my head. “Oh...”
“What is it?”
“Are you a Pegasus or a Unicorn?”
I wasn’t that shocked by the question, but it did raise questions in my head. “I’m an Earth pony, sweetie. Why do you ask?”
Her huge blue eyes blinked innocently. “Why aren’t there any other Earth ponies?”
I swallowed. “I-I don’t know,” I replied. “But that doesn’t matter now, Lavender. Go back to sleep, okay?”
“Okay.” She nestled back into the covers and it wasn’t long before she was sleeping again.
“I wish I knew the answer,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”
The sun seemed to scream “GET YOUR LAZY BUTT UP!” into my eyes, and I was forced into bitter reality. I looked around, and I forgot what I was doing in Town Hall for a few seconds. Then I remembered the blizzard and let out a sigh of relief.
The snow had melted over night, so we could all leave. I bid farewell to Scrunchy and her family, hoping I could see them again, especially Lavender. Maybe they would help stop racism? Only Celestia can tell.
When I ran back home, my parents were crying with joy. Even my father, which was surprising. My mother held me close to her chest and was stroking my bangs. “Where were you, sweetie?!” she wept. “We thought you had died in the storm!”
“I was in Town Hall with the other ponies,” I managed to breath while she crushed my lungs.
She pushed me away, eyes wide. “Oh! They didn’t hurt you while you were there, did you? Your bow is gone, too! Where’d it go? What happened?”
“I’m fine, Mom,” I said, hoping that would answer all four questions. It seemed to suffice, and she just smiled even more and pulled me close again. I wished my Mom would just decide on how she would appreciate me.
I told them all about Scrunchy and her family, too, and they told me they really wanted to meet them. They wanted to tell how much they thanked them for how they protected me when nopony else would. And, I didn’t mention this to them, but I wanted to as well.
NEWS: FILLY DIES OF PNEUMONIA
A filly named Lavender died only a few days after the blizzard that took over our town on Thursday. She died in the local hospital yesterday night due to pneumonia and other unknown causes. She was very young and didn’t have very long to live, but left a scar on her family and friends. Her last words, confirmed by the doctors, are as follows: “Can you find Grape Vine for me? I want you to tell her thank you.”
I sat in the schoolhouse, my day beginning like any other day. The young mares and stallions, all my age, were in front of me. They were talking to each other, laughing, and spending their free morning time not-so-wisely. While they conversed, I was staring and scratching my head at the math paper I didn’t finish the night before, due to winemaking. At least I was being, or trying to be, productive.
In all, there were nine students. There were three Pegasi mares, two Pegasi stallions, two Unicorn mares, one Unicorn stallion, and me. An Earth pony. The only Earth pony. My spot was in the far back, in the left corner. Everypony else was around me.
The thing was, the Unicorns talked to Unicorns and the Pegasi talked to Pegasi. Not only were they discriminating against us, but against other races as well. That town was really screwed up.
The others didn’t seem to focus on anything going on around them until the teacher walked in. Her name was Mrs. Bowtie. She was a soft pink with dark blue hair, decorated with yellow ribbons. She was a Pegasus as well. She usually paid little or no mind to me, unless it was important.
And that day was important.
Mrs. Bowtie sat at her desk, giving us one of her warm smiles. “Good morning, students!” she greeted us. “Today is a very special day.”
The ponies looked quizzically at her, and even I sent her a wondering gaze.
“It’s Earth Appreciation Day!” she said with what looked like a forced smile.
My eyes went wide. How could I forget such an important holiday? Must have been all that wine tasting. “Wait, what?” I exclaimed, nearly sliding off my seat, and it didn’t take long before I realized everypony else had, too.
Mrs. Bowtie nodded. “Yes, today is the day where we celebrate the wonders both the Earth and the Earth ponies do for us,” she replied. I could sense something sharp and distasteful in her tone... sarcasm, perhaps? She hid it well from the others, though, so I remained quiet and began sinking in my chair.
A yellow Unicorn mare asked spitefully, “Why would a day like that exist? What have they ever done for us?” Other ponies nodded in agreement.
“Without them, we’d starve. They’re the only ones capable of growing purely organic fruits, vegetables, and grains for Equestria.” Then Mrs. Bowtie’s eyes caught mine, and I sunk deeper. “Like Ms. Vine’s grape vineyard, for example.”
The students eyed one another in disbelief and resentment. Then, on what seemed to me like a cruelly scheduled cue, they all turned and looked at me, even the teacher.
Twelve pairs of eyes were staring at me with mixed emotions. By that time, only my head was visible from behind the desk. Did they not care?
I celebrated that day by my family giving each other gifts and taking a day off of work. It was a care-free day where we stayed inside the house as much as we could, feeling relaxed and having fun together. But, at the school, it just felt awkward to be celebrating this.
“Um... hi?” I finally said aloud.
The white and silver Unicorn mare from earlier scoffed as she turned around, “Yeah, I really don’t care about that thing.”
I was about to say something not so nice to her, but Mrs. Bowtie interrupted me. “Moonshine, straighten out your attitude or I’ll do it for you.”
“With what?” Moonshine replied harshly. “Your wing? Like that’s going to hurt.”
Mrs. Bowtie let out a long sigh, then looked at me. It was a stare with confusion and a hint of anger and sarcasm, like her voice had the last time she had something to me. Even though she was facing me, she seemed to be talking to the whole class. “Look, we’re going to try and respect it- uh, her, for the rest of the school day. Got that?”
There was a pause of hesitation, then the class slowly nodded. But I wasn’t any more relieved. I was uncomfortable. “Can... can I go home, Mrs. Bowtie?” I asked, sitting up in my chair.
“Why would you want to do that?” She knew very well why I wanted to do that, she was just playing dumb.
“I, uh... feel sick. Yeah, really sick!” I said, then let out a few coughs for good measure.
Mrs. Bowtie eyed me carefully. I must have been bad at acting. Just like I am with singing. And dancing. And drawing. And playing piano. “Mm-hm,” she replied. “I’m sure you are.”
I coughed a few more times. “Yeah. And I think my family would want to see me on this special day, too. You know, for celebration reasons.” I smiled.
“Your family wouldn’t want to celebrate with you being sick, would they?” The other ponies in my class were snickering.
My face turned bright pink, from both embarrassment and anger at myself. “Oh...”
“Earth ponies are really bad at lying, aren’t they?” Mrs. Bowtie sighed, then turned to the chalkboard to start the lesson. There were a few stragglers who continued to giggle and gaze at me, but they soon turned back to the front of the classroom.
I waited for a good moment, then snaked out of my chair and silently ran out of the room, leaving behind a trail of dust. That was the most uncomfortable and awkward moment of my life, hooves down.
“And they said they were going to respect me!” I exclaimed, then inhaled a bite of strawberry cake. “It was weird!”
Mom set the egg shells down next to her and continued mixing in the bowl. “Honey, don’t talk with your mouth full, and don’t you want them to respect you?”
I swallowed the sweet bite and frowned at her ignorance. “They’ve been treating me badly for years! Seeing it change so quickly, and for just one day, mind you, is a bit disturbing, don’t you think?”
Turning to me, Mom answered, “Sure, it’s a bit disturbing, but you should cherish it, not run away from it.”
“But they were laughing at me!”
“Because you’re a terrible liar, sweetie.”
“Oh.” A puff of air passed my lips, and I started eating more cake. Cake had become my escape from my problems recently. When it was out in the open and looked good, I usually ate it. Somehow I didn’t gain very much weight, though, but I wasn’t about to complain. Besides, it would catch up with me sooner or later.
Mom shook her head with a few tsking sounds, then started making more cake batter, to my pleasure. Maybe, if I was nice enough, I could lick the spoon. I watched her mix the ingredients intently, seeing the chocolate brown glop swirl in rhythm with the wooden spoon. It was tempting to just grab the spoon and lick it already, but I restrained myself obediently.
“What did you want to do today?” Mom asked, then added a bit more sterner, “Since you decided to ditch school because you felt uncomfortable .”
“I dohn’t how,” I muttered through the dessert in my mouth. Mom glared at me, and I smiled sheepishly and gulped down the bite. “I don’t know... hey, can I have some more cake?” I held out my plate like a poor child.
Mom, who had just plopped batter in the oven, shook her head. “If you want to keep the figure I gave you, I suggest laying off the cake, dear,” she said simply, walking out of the kitchen. I looked down at my pudgy stomach and sighed.
We went into the living room where Dad was reading the paper. A steamy cup of black coffee sat at one side, and his reading glasses on the other. Every few moments he would put the glasses on so he could read better. It reminded me of that really old and cranky stallion at the nursing home.
...Don’t tell him I said that.
Anyways, Mom came over to him and kissed him on the forehead, saying, “The cake’s in the oven.”
Dad suddenly looked away from the newspaper with a frightened stare slashed across his face. “You’re pregnant again?” he cried, but it was more of a shocked yell.
While I refrained from laughing my head off, Mom stepped back a bit at his response. Then she realized what he meant and groaned. “Hon, the saying is ‘the bun’s in the oven’.” Dad huffed in relief and continued reading.
“Are we harvesting today?” I asked, putting my hooves on the rest of his chair, my smile wide and toothy with as much innocence as I could muster. “Because I’ll be bored otherwise.”
Turning away from the paper, he gave me a long stare. “We were going to wait until tomorrow,” he said, arching a brow. Then he put on a sneaky grin that scared me a bit. “but now that you ask, you can do it by yourself.”
“What?!” I shouted. It didn’t take long for me to realize that there was no getting out of it, so I pouted and went out the back door. When you go home without makeup work, why not do housework instead? Seems legit.
The vineyard was a few rolling hills away from our house. It was small, but could hold many bunches of grapes and provided us with its fruits all spring and summer. Barely anypony tried to mess with it, and when they did, they usually had a nice meeting with my father’s popgun. The sound alone would scare ponies away.
I carried two baskets on my back, one for the white grapes, and one for the green grapes. Those were the only kinds we grew, since Mom insisted that we made wine when we moved in. And the only wine she would drink was white wine, so we had no other option, not even red.
Most of the grapes were already gone, but there were a few left that needed picking. Thankfully, it was my special talent, so it would get done quickly.
I popped a few grapes in my mouth, making sure they were ripe, then took out my curved knife. It had a black handle, and the metal shined in the morning’s sun. It was my harvesting knife, and the only one in the entire house. Probably because I was the only one who knew how to use it correctly without breaking it.
Holding out a bunch of green grapes in front of me with one hoof, I used my other hoof to hack the knife across the stem. It came off in one slice, clean and perfect. I put it in the basket and smiled at my knife. If you had seen, it must have made me look like a murderer or something.
I continued doing that for a half hour or so, until the sound of childish cackles came from a distance. I looked over to the sound and saw a mare and a stallion, both a bit older than me, walking along the dirt road. They were glaring at me, but their smiles told me different. Though it was hard, I tried my best to ignore them.
“Hey, you!” the mare called. “You having a hard time with that knife?”
I hesitated at first. “No,” I answered.
The stallion, a Unicorn, walked a bit closer to the vineyard. I stopped and stared at them again. “If you had magic,” he started, and his horn lit up a dark blue color. He picked up a bunch of grapes, and my eyes widened. “this would be a whole lot easier, huh?” The grapes were yanked off, and most of the fruits flew off the stems.
“Stop that,” I said firmly, turning to them and stomping my hoof in the clay dirt.
He let go of the empty bunch. “What are you going to do if I don’t?” he snapped, his smile everlasting against his muzzle. The Unicorn next to him was just as snarky as he was.
But I wasn’t scared. I ran over to him, turned around and, before he could do anything, bucked him in the face. I could feel my hind legs hit his flesh, and a sickening thud and crunch right after. I whipped around and saw him unconscious on the ground, his face a dark red mess.
“You monster!” the mare said, but I could barely hear her over the blood roaring in my ears and my puffs of breath. “I’m telling the force!” With that, she galloped away, leaving me with an unmoving body. The small droplets of blood were warm on my legs.
Could I have just killed a stallion for no reason?
Original Pt.2
He couldn’t have been dead, right? I mean, sure his face was a red syrupy mess now and he was either unconscious or worse, but that didn’t mean he was dead! I didn’t hit him that hard, did I? He would be perfectly fine.
I watched the mare run, then stared down at the stallion I destroyed the face of. His golden eyes were at the back of his head, and his jaw looked twisted and broken. He had skidden quite a bit and was now back on the dirt road he was walking on. A pang of pity tore at my gut for bucking the poor guy.
What made the situation worse was the fact that the police were coming. And I would most likely be arrested for battery. Battery was a rare thing in Equestria, even in Coltington, so I’d probably be punished far worse than usual.
At the realization of this, I let out a scream of frustration. It was so loud I could hear the echo afterwards. All of my rage and fear was thrust into a ten second long shout.
My parents had heard it and came galloping to the vineyard. But, at the same time, the mare had come back with a team of five stallions in blue jackets and hats. Hot tears were already flooding my face. I was scared.
“What happened?” Mom asked, then saw the stallion’s body on the floor, the blood on my back hooves, and put a hoof up to her mouth in shock. Dad’s eyes just flashed from me to the body, his face turning into a confused and worried one.
“I’m sorry!” I cried, to both them and the police. “I-I-I didn’t m-mean it! It was in a-accident!”
The ponies shared glances, then one of the police ponies came up and placed a chained ball around my back legs. I felt the cold, rusted metal mix with the blood and squealed again.
“Shut up!” the stallion barked, and I attempted to back away further. But the chains forbid me.
Mom ran to the police pony. “What are you doing with her?” she demanded, at the brink of letting all her tears flow free. “Didn’t you hear her say it was an accident?”
“She can tell that to the judge,” the stallion replied gruffly. I gazed over at Dad for a second, who was staring at the ground in utter silence. Not even trying to stand up for his daughter. I thought he would want me to have a clean criminal record, but he wasn’t doing anything but glaring at the soil under his hooves. I grimaced.
The rest of the ponies gathered around me to make sure I didn’t try to run away, then started walking without warning. I was startled for a moment, then caught up with them. The ball dragged behind me, the metal scuffed my ankles, and my legs ached all the way there. But I didn’t say anything.
My cell was cold and dark. There was hardly any light shining through the titanium bars. The only source of warmth was a blue fleece blanket on the small board attached to the wall, and that was luxury at its finest in a jail cell. The rest of it, though, was just empty, cold, and heartless.
I watched the shadows form on the wall as guards walked by. It was my only source of entertainment. I didn’t eat the slop they gave me, and I slept most of the time. I thought about what I had done from time to time, but it was against my will. I really didn’t want to.
Suddenly, the cell door opened wide, and a guard popped his head in. “You have a visitor,” he said. My heart brightened a little bit, but it wasn’t enough to lift my spirits. I somberly slid off the bed and slowly made my way out the cell. It wasn’t like I was going to be set free or anything, so why bother?
I sat behind the glass window, and the pony in front of me shocked me. A white mare my age with dark brown, almost black, hair tied in a messy ponytail. Her blue eyes were blinking and confused. “Butter Cream?” I asked in disbelief. Why was she here?
“Grape Vine! What did you do to get you in here?” she demanded quickly.
I sighed. “I kicked a Unicorn in the face.”
Butter Cream leaned forward like an attacking bear. “What?! Why did-”
“Now listen. I didn’t mean to, really, and as a friend, you should understand.”
She didn’t know what else to say, so I continued, “If you had anything else to mention, you’re free to do so. Otherwise, I’ll get back to my cell.” I wasn’t in the mood for her antics. After what she did to me so long ago, getting me drunk, I had hoped to not talk to her again. And here she was.
Butter Cream gave me a long stare. “What happened to you?” she muttered, her voice grim and angry.
“Living in this town happened!” I nearly screamed, then got off my chair and slugged away before she could say anything to defy me or the police got me in trouble.
I didn’t look back.
Days passed. The stallion I had kicked in the face had healed for the most part, though he was permanently scarred. A chunk on his forehead where the edge of my hoof made contact would be there forever after the stitches were removed. This was one of the many charges pressed against me.
As I sat court, waiting like a scared little kitten in front of the judge, I listened to the other ponies talk about what kind of a mare I was. Some said I was evil for doing such a thing, other claimed I was a demon. But most of them just said I should be punished because I was an Earth pony.
It was unjust and uncalled for, and the lawyer my parents hired agreed with them, but kept it secret until later on. He made some fairly good points, though. For example...
“Ms. Vine proclaims that the stallion was destroying private property and using offensive phrases. Is that correct, Ms. Vine?” the lawyer said, looking over at me intently.
I snapped out of thought the second time my name was called. “Y-yes, sir,” I replied, sitting back up.
The lawyer nodded. “And our law clearly states that destroying private property is something to be punished for. If we punish the pony who did nothing but protect her property, isn’t that unfair?”
The judge scratched his curly white beard. My chin itched just looking at it. “But, instead of trying to murder a pony, she should have told the force.”
My lawyer was silent. I wanted to smack him.
It went on like that for a few hours, until it was finally decided.
I was sentenced to jail for ten years, a.k.a until I was dead . But, luckily, my parents gathered their payments into one amount and paid my bail fee. The whole enchilada. I didn’t even know they made that much money. But they did it. And I promised to do the chores for a whole week in thanks.
Probably not enough to pay for a life in jail, but whatever.
And you know what? Dad found a way for us to get out of Coltington. I would be free of my troubles. I would be free of my pain. I would be free of my torture.
Instead of being somewhere that I’m unwanted, I could go somewhere that I’m wanted.
Somewhere that I’m not just an Earth pony.
I’m unique.
I’m different.
I’m original.
I’m special.
