//------------------------------//
// { 1 } 
// Story: My Little Cuties 
// by Amazing Ups 
//------------------------------//

There is a gaping hole in my life.

For the last 20 years I've been watching my whole life break down around me, and I've let myself break down from the inside out. With each year the aperture grows larger and larger, all my sorrows feeding the void. My family has been a a dysfunctional wreck for as long as I can remember. From what I can remember, I was the only one whose mind remained intact throughout the entirety of my life, but even now my sanity wavers. My father, a raging alcoholic, boasted a bipolar attitude that made his anger problems much more justified. He would always come home at late hours, smelling of liquor and shame, cursing my whole family. Said that we were holding him back, said he should've never even thought of children. Sometimes, I wish he hadn't.

My brother used to be a great person. He was the only person who really taught me anything in life. But when I was 10 years old, my father decided that my big brother, fresh out of high school, was plenty ready to face the world on his own. He didn't last very long on his own. He fell pray to a terrible disease with no cure. 

Crystal meth.

I'd visited him a few times in rehab. I could tell he was still the same big brother I'd known, but he was…changed. Now he's in jail. He tried to rob a bank to feed his cravings, and he killed a police officer in the process.

The final sad story to mention is my mother. She died when I was just 5 years old. She was fed up with my father's drunken antics, among other things. The car accidents; the lost jobs; the beatings. She had threatened to file for divorce is what my father told me. But he threatened her right back with a sharpened steak knife. So she did the only thing she could think of. The easy way out.

As for me, I finished my community college course a few weeks ago. As soon as I graduated from high school, my father threw me out just like my brother. I had been saving up for a while however, working at the local movie theatre. I had anticipated my father's decision. So now, I've got an apartment on "that side of town," the only thing I could afford. I still have the same jobs at the Theatre, serving up stale popcorn to this day.

I don’t know what keeps me going. 

Is it love? Is there something about this world worth living for?

Or is it hate? Do I want to succeed so badly out of spite, just to prove my father wrong?

Or...is it curiosity?

Whenever the odds have been insurmountable, whenever I felt like giving in, I let one question drive me.

Why am I here? 

And naturally, many other questions followed suit. What am I supposed to do with my life? How can I do it? And most importantly, why should I do it?

And on a separate tangent, which you maybe wondering at this point, how do I cope with such a gruesome past and dull present? Mainly, I take everything one step at a time. Whenever I want to just quit the game of life, I tell myself, “I can survive one more day.” It's like climbing a mountain. Just take one more step, and you're that much closer to the top.

And that’s how I make it through. 

However, there are a select few things that can help me and my sorrows. And although I don't care how corny it sounds, how childish it may seem, one of those things is My Little Pony.

I'd been completely in love with every aspect of the show since I first saw it on YouTube. I had found it laughable, and watched it ironically. "Grown men, watching ponies!" I said hysterically. Oh how the tables would turn.

As I continued to watch though, episode after episode, I was infatuated with the livelihood of the characters, their tangible personalities, and soon grew fond of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Just like me, they were constantly searching for a destiny they just couldn't find…asking themselves what their purpose was. I was soon digging much deeper than the show. I kept researching the culture behind it, the fan base, the music, everything. I had found something to help heal the hole. I filled my iPod with songs by brony artists, read countless fanfics, and I've even started saving up money so I can go to the next BronyCon. But with my current salary, it seems like a hollow dream. 

One fanfic I read hit me particularly hard. My Little Dashie. I sat on my couch for an hour, burning through tissue box after tissue box. I hadn't cried so hard since I was a child. After my mother's death, I felt like her passing had drained every last bit of emotion from me. Even though the tale left me feeling melancholy, I marveled at the thought of my own little pony, and the thought and heart put into the story; but I knew it could never happen. This was real life. Not a fan-fiction.

So I just keep living my life, convinced that the Pony world and mine are, of course, far, far apart.

***

It was a very slow day at the Theatre. I swept up spilt popcorn from the floor, and when my shift was done, I took off my old-fashioned usher uniform. Our manager, an old, frail man, couldn't afford to buy us new ones. My vest smelt of the aged popcorn I served so valiantly, and the mothballs that protected my uniform by night, two odors I'd grown accustomed to over the years. I usually would stay at the Theatre and watch a movie after we closed down every saturday night. The manager was kind if not anything else, and free movies were one of the few luxuries I could afford. But tonight was special. A brony friend of mine had found a link to the leaked first episode of Friendship is Magic season 3, and he said he would email it to me tonight. 

So. Awesome.

“Headed home for the night, sonny?” The manager asked.

“Yes sir. Just gonna call it a night.” I shook myself from fantasizing about what the new season may hold, and popped out a reply to his query. 

He smiled, beaming brighter than the neon lights of the open sign he proceeded to shut off. 

“Alright. You take care now.”

The manager always seemed to care about me. He didn’t really have much of a family, so he must have seen me as a sort of surrogate son. He said one day he would let me take over the Theatre. I didn’t know if I really wanted to. 

I walked outside in the cool moonlit street. I couldn't wait to get home. My second floor-apartment was a fair distance away from the theatre, which is on the outskirts of town. It's pretty far away from really anything important, and tucked away from most of society. As I rolled my skateboard home, I was deep in thought, pondering what intricacies of friendship and ponies the third era of FiM would usher in...

So deep in thought in fact, I rode right into the pothole I usually maneuvered around. 

I fell to the ground, spilling the popcorn I had brought home for the night all over the place. Hey, it was stale, but enough butter makes anything taste good. I cursed at nothing at particular and clutched my shin in pain. Hurt like hell.

I didn't feel like getting back up. I could barely see anything around me, as only a select few lights shone in this part of the city. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on lifting myself off the ground. I was about to ride off when something caught my eye. Yes, you guessed it.

A small, cardboard box lying in the street, illuminated by a single patchy streetlight. 

At first, I dismissed it. Just a box. A tiny, insignificant little box. But then, some sort of instinct kicked in. I got closer to investigate. There were five words on the side of the box, words I knew all too well. "Give to a good home." I blinked. The box was still there. The words were the same. I pinched myself; definitely not dreaming.

As I neared the box my heart beat a little a faster. Was this really happening? Could it really be happening? If this tiny, insignificant box held something more, could tiny, insignificant little me really hope to behold its contents?

I bent over, calling myself insane, and opened it up. I gazed downwards. My god.

In the box sat my heart’s desire. There in that tiny, insignificant little box, were three tiny, adorable little fillies: Sweetie Bell, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo, all breathing silently, huddled up together for warmth. They were shivering in the crisp November air. 

Omygodomygodomygodomygodomygodomygodomygodomygodomygod.

All three of them drowsily looked up at me, and started squirming around.

"Oh no, did I wake you up? I'm so sorry!" I whispered to them.

My speech only seemed to scare them. They crawled over in a corner of the box, with their big round eyes staring straight at me.

"Hey, come one. It's okay, I won't hurt you, I swear." 

I reached out my hand to them. They still seemed weary of me. 

"Pinkie Pie swear." 

I went through the custom motions of the Pinkie Pie swear, and in my nervousness, finished off by sticking my hand directly into my eye. I didn't exactly think that through, and flinched in pain. All three let out babyish giggles, and gingerly sniffed my fingers. Scootaloo was even daring enough to lick one of them. I barely managed to hold back a d'aw.

"Let's you get you girls to my house."

I picked up the box and ran home. Luckily it was late, and nobody was around to see me carrying a suspicious box in the middle of the night.

I battled myself internally. Half of me was extremely paranoid. "Is this a good idea? Is the government show up on my doorstep? Should I call someone?"

The other half of me was much more reasonable. "Who the fuck cares, ponies."

As soon as we were back in the apartment, I picked them all up and plopped them onto the couch. "What now?" I asked aloud. 

I had their undivided attention. At my words, Sweetie Belle cocked her head to the side like a little puppy, her usually poofy mane falling down to her side in scraggly bunches.

"Well…I guess you guys are probably real hungry, huh?"

Though they were still just babies, they seemed to understand me fairly well. All three sets of ears perked up at once. 

"Heh, I thought so. I'll go fix some dinner for you little cuties.” 

They seemed to emanate joy, happiness, sugar, spice and everything nice. I observed them from over my shoulder as I walked into the kitchen. I still couldn't believe this was happening. Three ponies, here with me in MY world. I reached for some carrots and sugar cubes out of the cabinet. It was particularly empty. I stopped for a moment. Was carrots and sugar cubes really a nutritious meal for these ponies? I'd have to stop going out every night and start buying real food, instead of living off Doritos and Hot Pockets. But hey, maybe not. I could call up some of my brony friends, see if they wanted to come over and… 

No.

Heeeeelllll no.

What was I thinking. I couldn't let anyone know about this. The Crusaders...they'd be put in a petting zoo, or be sold on Craigslist, or something much, much worse...I couldn't let the rest of my harsh world corrupt them.

I returned to them and they eyed the snacks with eager faces. I set it down for them, and they gobbled their snacks up ravenously.

"You guys sure have an appetite," I chuckled to myself. I still couldn't believe this. I had imagined this day for ages after reading that fanfic. And now it was actually happening. To me. In the real world.

When they were finished, I started to wonder aloud again. 

"How'd you fillies get here?" 

They looked as if they were quietly sharing their thoughts together. They all looked up at me with sad faces that clearly said, "We don't know."

I frowned. 

"Well…since you've obviously nowhere else to go, you three should stay with me for the time being." Obviously. Right? I was doing the right thing, right?

They all brightened up a little, and seemed to become a little livelier. If they were happy, I was happy.

"Well, for now, you'll have to share the couch." I was exhausted, and though the recent events had my heart racing, I just wanted to get to bed. But something held me back from entering my room. I turned around. And there it was. The three of them together, looking at me with pleading faces and puppy dog eyes. They didn't want to be left alone, did they? I thought back to all the episodes that they'd been in. There was one that particularly stood out in my mind. I tried to keep my voice down. I didn't want anyone to hear me, as this was about to be the most un-manly thing I'd ever done. I sat down beside them, and began...singing.

Hush, now, quiet, now,
It's time to lay your sleepy heads,
Hush, now, quiet, now,
It's time to go to bed…

I'll admit, I was a little off key, and I didn't have nothin' on Fluttershy, but it did the trick. Soon, the fillies were nuzzling up against me, drifting off to sleep. I was about to explode from the sheer cuteness of it all. I sat there, continuing to sing until their breathing patterns all slowed down to a regular pace. I could feel all three of their beating little hearts thumping along with my own. My God, how lucky was I right now? I couldn't even begin to explain. The three of them were just so innocent, so...adorable! They would've trusted anyone who picked them up out of that box. 

I was so glad I found them first. 

Eventually, I fell victim to my own lullaby, and blacked out into the best night's sleep I'd had in ages.

***

I woke up the next morning to the familiar sound of Ditzy Doo's voice on my computer.



The three fillies laid in sleepy disarray on the couch.

I quietly got up, trying not to disturb them. Sweetie Belle rolled off of me without waking up. Yeesh. They must have had a rough time yesterday, because they were absolutely KO'd. 

I looked through my email inbox. Junk mail, junk mail, junk mail. It was littered with updates on my favorite animes and deals for Domino's pizza. As I scrolled downwards, I shuddered. It was the link to the leaked episode. The responsibility of taking care of the little ponies was starting to hit me. If this was really going to be like the story I read, if I really wanted to do this right, I had to nip problems like this in the bud. I didn't even know if I could afford them; how did  "They shouldn't know," I said to myself as I deleted my MLP background, my beloved email alert, and everything pony-related on my desktop. "Not until they're ready."

***