First published
A short chaptered story of two colts adventures by each other from the eyes of the older sibling. This was a story I wrote based on my life that I decided to share with all of you.
Please help me get better. I am an amateur writer/artist and would love to get some helpful critics and tips about how I can improve my writing or execution on this site.
Thank you. Grey Slate Out
"Hey, Sonny. Come on. We have to go."
I stir in my sleep. I look up at my grandma. "What's wrong, Gran-ma?"
"Your mom is having the baby. We have to hurry."
I jump up and run out the door. I jump in the cart so Grandma can pull me. I am so excited...I just wish I wasn't...
...so...
...
....tired....
*yawn*
He was such a cute little foal. His tiny hooves, tiny tail, tiny head, and huge eyes. He was so funny looking. As I held him in my hooves, he slowly moved, blinking like the slowest tortoise and mouthing like he was savoring the sweetest candy he’d ever tasted, slowly rolling his little tongue around his mouth unstopping with no clear direction. His hooves moved just as randomly, swinging left and right, each shifting independently like he was trying to regain feeling after lying on them. I smiled as he got fascinated by his own hoof, as if it was recently given to him as a gift. He stuck his little hoof in his mouth, gently licking it as he looked up at me. He looked surprised, as if without his tiny stump to distract him, he finally noticed the world around him. I had to laugh. He was half my size and I could barely hold him.
He was only five days old, while I was three years old. The hospital chair that I sat in was soft and poofy. It was nice to finally see him. I had been waiting for him to come for what felt a year. I didn’t even know he was a colt until a few months ago. I’d felt him in mommy’s tummy as often as I could. He was so active. He loved music, especially mommy’s Appleloosa music. He loved the guitar sounds the most. He’d dance inside mommy and make her have to go potty. It was funny to see her make funny faces when he danced. I always hoped that he made mommy be silly like that to make me happy. It was our first connection. Now, I could finally hold him and see how silly he is. Mommy is still stuck in the hospital. Daddy says that she is very tired from delivering the baby. But I think mommy’s just being lazy because she had to carry him for so long. I mean, all she had to do to deliver the baby was lay there. The doctor did all the work.
But, I’ll let mommy be tired. I know that she is a nice mommy, and she deserves a break from being a good mommy. I’ll take the baby home and take care of him until mommy is ready. I don’t mind. I can feed him some muffins and juice. I’m good at making that, but I can find some of mommy’s cookbooks and learn more, like mommy. Then, I’ll play with him. I have lots of toys. We can play with stuffed animals, or build forts, or even play with my little ball. After that, I can put him to bed. He can have mine and I’ll sleep next to the bed on the floor. I’ll protect him and make him happy. He will be safe from the bad of the world. I am so lucky to have him.
He is such an awesome little brother. He is so fun to play with. He loves playing with the little ball. We make it roll all over the house. We go down the stairs and across the floor. We throw it around and make little whooshing sounds. Mom doesn’t like it when we play so much, but it’s too much fun to stop. We play quietly, so mom doesn’t yell at us. Sometimes, if mom gets too angry at us, we have to go outside to play. We like to kick the hoof ball around. Even though he’s only three, he still kicks really hard. We take turns with the ball, kicking it back and forth, around and around. We have so much fun. We can play together all day. Mom and dad say we’re like two parasprites in a pod. I think that means we play good together. And I know that’s true. I love my brother very much.
School is kind of hard. My brother and I have to be in separate classrooms. It’s hard. I miss playing with him. But the part of my day that is the most fun is coming home and trading stories about our days in different classrooms. We learn different things every day. When he is learning how birds fly, I’m learning how pegasi fly, which is funny because both have hollow bones. Ponies are so weird sometimes. We read different things too. I read stories about monsters in school, while he reads books with big letters about snakes. He says he likes his teacher, and I tell him that I like mine too. We like to walk to school together—if mom will let us. I think she’s a little too protective of us. But I know she just cares about us. She’s a good mother. And my brother agrees with me. I don’t know what I’d do without him.
Flight school is much different than elementary. Each class has a different group of kids. It’s hard to keep track of time. But it’s cool to work with such advanced flyers. I have Spitfire, Soarin, even Blaze. It’s all super cool. Little bro seems to enjoy it too. He gets Fleet Foot and Misty Fly—he loves them. We get better lunch options too. We get actual choices for lunch now instead of having to eat the one thing they make for us. After school, we have hoofball practice. When we get the ball, no pony can stop us. We read each other’s minds and react before anypony can figure out what happened. After practice, we always fly home together, recounting how awesome we are. Mom tries to pick us up, but we like to make her worry. Yes, we’re evil little colts, but we know that all we need is each other.
Holy, we were so naïve in flight school. Wonderbolts’ camp sucks. No pony seems to care. Drills are hard and fast. And we have to run between tracks to make it on time. We still do hoofball, and even do a little acting. We are so tired by the end of the day, we basically sleep all evening. Our drill sergeant, Rainbow Dash, thinks that we’re lazy, but we both argue that we just do too many things in a week. Plus, our jobs don’t exactly allow us to sleep all weekend. We both work at the Hay Burger. I work as a cashier, while he works as a cook. It’s awesome. Plus, we made a deal with our manager so that we always work the same shifts together. We are lightning fast. From when the guest orders to when they get the food is never more than a minute and a half. We’re awesome, as always.
This is hell on earth. Why would anypony agree to a Wonderbolt tour? It’s impossible. We’re so tired, always hungry, and never completely sure what is going on. The one good news is, we’re in the same squad! We can always be together. Also, mom worries less, and now only bugs us every couple of . . . hours. Yeah, we need to find her a hobby. We’re thinking woodworking . . . But, anyways, here we are with Equestria’s best fighters. I’m a scout and he’s part of recon. It’s so fun to continue this journey with him. He is so awesome. I’m glad that I have him.
Finally finished with the hell known as war, and we can finally be real colts. We got apartments right next to each other. So we can be separate, but still together. He and I have both decided to maybe look into actually dating now. I chose to try penpal-dating, while he is trying café-dating. I think he’s crazy and that he’ll never find anypony decent this way, and he feels the same about my method. But we think we’ll trade methods soon, just to try another way. He’s too funny sometimes. Glad he’s been by my side.
Great news. We both found our soul mates. He found his through letters, while I found mine at a local diner. His is blonde and tall, mine is brunette and short. We both love our girls to death. We do double dates and other annoying brotherly stuff that the girls both seem to enjoy. I have to hand it to him, we both found winners.
Man, do we look sharp. Double black suits, fixing each other’s bows. We adjust our boutonnieres. An hour away, both of our hooves are cold and shaking. We both proposed at the falls, Celestia’s sun shining, and water glistening. They said yes. We hugged our girls, hugged each other, and then gave giant group hug. It was such a happy day. Now, as we stand on a grassy field, with a white arc in front of us and balloons forming the aisle. Out come our brides, their white lace flowing in the gentle breeze, the sun reflecting off their faces, tear lines running down them, and smiles plastered on. We both have to hold each other up just to keep from fainting from seeing both of their gorgeous beauties. We take both of our brides’ respective hooves, their foal soft coat resting nicely in our rougher hooves. We both lean now and whisper to our goddesses in white, “You are way prettier than she is,” to which they smirked, glanced at each other and whispered back, “I know.” Hidden giggles followed. The ceremony went perfectly, both of us dipping our bride into the kiss. The reception was lively and long. Our mother cried, and cried, and cried. We both told her to suck it up, to which she punched us, leaving us “groaning” in pain. We went back home, opened a wine bottle, and shared a lovely at-home honeymoon. The four of us were inseparable—me and little bro especially.
The circle of life, I guess. The girls announced their pregnancies together, my girl being a week ahead of his girl. We cared for them religiously. We would take care of them as our mother took care of us, with a constant sense of panic and never-ending worry for their safety and well-being. They sometimes grew tired of us, and sent us away on a fishing trip, while they watched soap operas and talked gossip to each other. We’d come back if even one mail mare appeared, regardless of what the issue was, or if there was even an issue at all. We rushed home a few times because we thought we saw the wall-eyed mare. We didn’t care. We wanted them happy and safe, to which they always replied, in between reassuring kisses that they were fine and we were too paranoid. We both cared about our girls more than our own lives. But even in the end, we stuck together, little bro and I.
They came. Our foals finally came. I had a filly, he a colt. We named them after water. Mine is Crystal Heart and his is Clear Stream. We kept our foals warm and safe while our hard workers rested. We never left their sides, cradling the babies in one hoof and holding their soft hooves in with the other. We knew our lives would be better with our little miracles in our world, brightening ever single dark corner. We looked at each other and silently went, “You did good, bro.”
We love our world. Never did we want so badly to make the world perfect. Perfect to protect our babies from the world. All we wanted was our angel soulmates to be happy, and our miracles of life to grow up healthy. We watched as they first walked, talked, and started school. Saw them struggle with life, with friends, and with school. Saw them hide from us to walk home alone and unprotected. Even saw them find the pony of their dreams. In their young eyes, we saw us. We saw our rebellion and joy with each other’s company. As they left for camp, we saw in their spark a reflection of our own. Brothers forever.
I lay here on my bed. My chest feels heavy, breaths barely making it into my lungs. I start to have a big headache. I can hear my sweetheart in the joining room, whistling as she carefully cleans. I call for her with what breath I have left. As she comes in, rushing to my bed, I pull her close, gently kiss her, and say for a final time “I love you.” My eyes slowly drift closed as silence begins to consume me.
"We're here. Wake up."
He was such a cute little foal. His tiny hooves, tiny tail, tiny head, and huge eyes. He didn’t move. I had to watch from behind a plastic screen. I was only three and I saw the baby that my mommy had had in her for months, lying there in the little bed. He didn’t look like me. He’s face was blue and purple and he didn’t move very much. Grandma brought me to see the new baby. She heard mommy was going to have him, and so she rushed over here. I was so excited that I fell asleep in the cart. She woke me up at the hospital. I wanted so badly to see the new baby. But they wouldn’t let me hold him, like mommy promised. He looked sad and asleep. The little light on the blanket wasn’t on like the other babies’ blankets. He was quiet and still. Mommy said that baby was sick and had to stay here. So, Grandma took me home. Before I got back on the elevator, I ran back to mommy and told her to get better soon, and bring baby home so I could keep him warm and happy. She teared up, and whispered, “OK, honey. I promise.”
I never saw baby again, just a silver can with a name written on it. I told mommy the name on the can was a good name for baby.
I miss baby.