If anypony ever told me I was weak willed I probably would have just nodded and smiled. I wasn't the brightest bulb on the tree when I was a filly and never really took the time to think for myself. What good would it have done me even if I had? Pinkie was always there to guide us. Until she wasn't. Okay, so Pinkie left. I still had big sister Inkie to help me. Except no, she left me, too. So all I had left were my parents. Parents who basically forgot I was even there until I was the only one of their children left. You have no idea how much I wish I could say I left right after Inkie did but it was just not a thing that happened. I was too afraid of life off the farm.
When my parents woke up the next morning to find Inkie gone they began filling my head with terrible, horrible lies. They put images in my brain of the way things worked away from the protective confines of the rock farm that scarred me for life. Looking back I can see now how verbally abusive they'd always been to the three of us. But when it was just me the abuse stopped being just verbal. It became a finely tuned process of damaging mental abuse. I stayed with my parents because they had me believing I would not survive a moment away. I would be kidnapped, I would be harmed in every way imaginable, and I would be left a shell of my former self. What I didn't realize then was that I was already becoming that shell. My fear of the outside world, of what it had to be doing to my sisters, gave me such nightmares as you would not believe. But it kept me on the farm for months longer than it should have, and it kept my parents happy.
I became almost robotic by the time my mother got sick. I was told what to do and I did it. The only time I was shown any real affection was on the rare occasion Granny Pie visited, but she came by less and less, and my will grew weaker and weaker. I believed there was nopony in the world that loved me anymore. Pinkie wrote all the time but I never knew it. I was never told about the letters she sent or the candy she wrapped specially for me and Inkie. I didn't find out until the day my mother died and my father completely snapped, throwing all the saved letters and packages in my face.
“This is your fault!” he roared, bucking out with his back legs to send a chair flying into the wall. It broke on impact. “You and your sisters! You killed your mother!”
I accepted the accusation without question. It probably was our fault, mine especially. I was never good enough, fast enough, hard working enough... I was just never enough. And because of my inadequacies my parents had to help me do the job that had once fallen to their children. It was my fault my mother was out on a particularly cold fall day, thus making it my fault she caught the cold that settled into her lungs and eventually took her life. So as my father raged through the house, weeping bitterly and destroying everything he could get his hooves on I didn't even think to protest. It was my fault. Everything was my fault.
As the weeks went by my father's rage slowly subsided, but he, much like myself, was turning into a hollow vessel. We were simply two beings working side by side to make it through one more day. We didn't speak to each other when we were out under Celestia's sun and at night, when I made dinner for the two of us, the most he would say was that my cooking would never compare to my mother's. Of course it wouldn't. I never expected it to. But it was communication, the voice of another pony besides my own voice in my head and I began to long for even insults, anything to break the monotony of the day. I started doing things wrong on purpose because it would get me attention. Negative attention, but attention none the less. I would break dishes “by accident,” conveniently forget to collect some of the best rocks. Then one night, deciding to see just how far I could take things, I found Mama's glasses and went into the kitchen to make dinner with them sitting on the bridge of my nose.
We were having zucchini and rice with cheese and I was already at the stove cooking by the time Papa came in. He sat down at the table in his usual chair, stared straight ahead at his usual blank spot on the wall. I poured him a cup of tea and brought it to the table and set it before him. And then he looked over and saw me. I couldn't name the expression on his face then and I still can't to this day. It was like disgust, confusion, sorrow, and excitement all rolled into one. For the longest time we just looked at each other while the zucchini sizzled away on the stove. Then he reached out to me, stroked the side of my face with a hoof in the most loving, tender way imaginable. And then he struck me. He struck me so hard that it knocked my legs right out from under me and sent me into a stupefied heap on the floor.
Once again I had done something wrong. I expected him to be angry but not like this. He got down from his chair and kicked out at me, and I folded in on myself, terrified and weeping, trying to protect myself as best as I could. Even with my sobbing he didn't stop, just attacked me again and again until I was certain I was going to die. Then, for absolutely no reason at all, he was gathering me into his embrace and crying, showering my bruised and bleeding face with kisses. I didn't know what to do. I was still so young. All I knew was that my Papa was offering comfort at the moment I wanted it most. It didn't matter that he was the one to inflict the damage, only that he was trying to make it better. So I wrapped my forelegs around his neck and hugged him while we cried together.
“I'm sorry, Papa,” I apologized thickly. “I'm so sorry.”
The room was spinning and there was definitely smoke in the air, but I couldn't focus on anything but the strong forelegs holding me close. Too close. I realized a second too late that I was slowly being crushed in his embrace. I was still too little to have much going for me in strength and as much as I struggled there was no escape. So I did the only thing I could think to do and turned my head against his body and bit into his foreleg as hard as I could.
He howled and I tasted blood before his grip on me released and I was shoved across the room. Mama's glasses dropped from my nose as I scrambled to my hooves and scurried for the door. I could hear Papa yelling at me, hollering and bellowing words I couldn't understand for the sound of my own sobbing in my ears. I didn't know where I was going but I knew I had to get away, to go as far from the farm as I could and as quickly as possible.
When you're as little as I was it doesn't take long to wear you out when you're running at top speed, but I felt like I must have run for miles and miles. By the time I allowed myself the luxury of slowing my legs were wobbling and my heart was beating so hard and so fast I was sure it would burst through my chest. My body took slowing down as a signal to stop and I quickly went from full tilt running, to trot, to canter, to two steps, to collapsing. The last thing I saw that night was a sky full of stars and a moon only half full.
“Is it dead?”
“I don't know. I don't think so. It's..she, maybe...breathing.”
Voices drifted in and out of my consciousness, playing with the characters in my dreams and making my mind fuzzy. I felt something prod my side but couldn't make myself move. Everything hurt, even my ribs when I inhaled and exhaled. My tongue was dry, there was dirt in my mouth and grass tickling the inside of my nose. Somepony moaned.
“Trottingham is still six hours away. Can we please get going? Just leave the roadkill.”
“Heartless much?”
I was prodded again and I managed to open my eyes, but the sun was too bright and I winced at the invasion of light in my senses. “She's alive!” My entire body was enveloped in warmth, like a blanket taken off the drying line on a sunny day. It was comfortable, but not so much that I didn't notice when the ground dropped away beneath me. I forced my eyes open and wiggled in the air, a soft yellow glow around me. “Easy there, little one.” I looked down to see a teal unicorn with blue curls looking up at me with curious purple eyes. “You shouldn't move around too much until you see a doctor. Looks like you were hurt pretty badly.”
Another pony, a light blue pegasus with a white mane and tail and green eyes stepped to the unicorn's side and tilted her head to look me over as well. “What happened to you?”
“Trottingham!” called an indignant stallion from within a beautiful and elaborately decorated carriage. The two mares shared a grimace before turning, toting my floating body along with them. “Oh, sweet Celestia, don't bring that thing in here!” A deep velvety purple stallion with a tan mane cringed away from my levitating form. He glared at me with angry blue eyes but I was too busy taking in my surroundings to care. What looked elaborate from the outside was dripping with elegance and pomp on the inside. There were heavy drapes over the carriage windows, plush cushions to sit on, golden lamps to keep darkness away, and a pretty door that suggested this carriage was bigger than I realized. “She won't be happy about this,” said the stallion in disgust.
“Quit your crying, little filly,” the unicorn said, frowning at the stallion as she insulted him. “The poor thing is hurt.”
“Moonstone, we are finally heading home after months on the road under her hoof. You realize we are six hours away from freedom and if we just stay up here in our servant's quarters, keep quiet, don't draw any attention to ourselves that we'll be pretty much home free. Not to mention when we get to Trottingham and we actually are free.”
The unicorn's frown only deepened. “There was an injured filly alone on the side of the road, Acorn.”
He blinked. “Yes, what's you're question.”
Moonstone growled and looked at the pegasus mare. “Can I put her on your bunk, Flashdance? Mine still has all the fabric swatches all over it.”
“Of course!” The pegasus flew up to a bunk above the window and I gaped as I was lifted up to meet her. This wasn't a carriage, it was like a whole train car acting like a carriage! My body touched down on the soft mattress and the warm glow left me. I turned my head to look up at Flashdance and smelled something like pumpkins and spice, and realized it was the mattress that smelled so good. “Comfy?” the pegasus asked.
“Yes, ma'am,” I said very quietly.
The two down below started arguing back and forth quietly, but Flashdance only tilted her head to look at me better. “My name's Flashdance. What's yours?”
“B...Blinkie.”
“That's a cute name. What happened to your coat, Blinkie? You look like you got into a bit of a row with somepony.”
“A row?”
She smiled in amusement at my cluelessness. “An altercation, a brawl, an argument, a fight.”
A lump formed in my throat and I nodded. “Yes, ma'am.”
“I hope they look worse than you do.” My bottom lip quivered and I bit down on it hard, feeling tears sting my eyes. It made Flashdance look at me with worry and gently nuzzle my cheek. “It's all right now. Let's have a look, yeah?”
“WHY ARE WE NOT MOVING?!”
I must have jumped because the pegasus wrapped her forelegs around me so quick that I didn't know what was happening. I looked up at her and she pursed her lips together in a quiet, “Shhh.” Down below the pretty door opened and a unicorn, tall and so pale a purple she almost looked white, stepped out for fix angry blue eyes on Acorn and Moonstone. “I assume there is a very good reason why the carriage has been stationary for more than two minutes,” she hissed, tossing her purple and white mane. “I would like to hear that reason. Now.”
Acorn stood tall, a smug smile on his lips as he glanced at Moonstone. “You see, these two decided to stop because-”
“Because I thought I saw some wild strawberries on the side of the road.” Flashdance held me close to her body as she carefully leaned over me to talk, hiding me from the gaze of the unicorn below. “I know how much you like wild strawberries, Glass Slippers, so I thought it might be nice to stop.” The unicorn said nothing but I watched Flashdance look down with an apologetic smile. “They were raspberries.”
“Ugh!” spat Glass Slippers, “I detest raspberries.” I could hear her take a calming breath before continuing. “Very well. Your excuse is acceptable. But we will stop no more.” She moved back through the carriage and slammed the door as she departed. A split second later I heard a hoof hit a muzzle and Acorn yowl as quietly as he could.
“What was that for?!”
“For being an inconsiderate jerk-wad, that's what!” Moonstone growled. “Do you know what Glass Slippers would have done if she knew we took that filly in?”
“Eaten her alive and used her bones for ambiance in her next photoshoot?”
I whimpered at the thought of being eaten but Flashdance calmly shushed me again. “Pay them no mind.” The carriage gave a small jerk and then we were on out way. I could feel the gentle motion of rocking back and forth even pressed so securely against the pegasus beside me. She smelled just as wonderful as her mattress and I found myself turning to face her, pressing my nose against her breast. “Do you want to tell me about what happened to you?” I shook my head and closed my eyes, just wanting to go back to sleep. Even though this mare was a complete stranger and this carriage of ponies seemed unpredictable at best, I hadn't felt safer in a very long time. So much for all those horror stories Mama and Papa always told me. “You have a bit of a kip then. We'll give you a nice warm bath and something to nibble once you've rested.” I nodded slowly, then inhaled deeply and drifted off to visions of pumpkin pie and warm blankets.
Several hours later I awoke slowly to the rhythmic breathing of my bunk mate. My mind still felt groggy and my body seemed to ache just about everywhere, but I was conscious enough to begin to have a real curiosity about the ponies who had taken me in. I opened my eyes to light blue fur and two forelegs wrapped around me in a protective embrace. I lifted my head just slightly and Flashdance's breathing changed. I felt the muscles in her legs and chest move as she lifted her own head and blinked, smiling sleepily down at me. “Well hello there,” she said quietly. “Have a good rest?”
“Yes, thank you. I'm sorry if I woke you.”
“Don't think on it. You looked so peaceful, I decided to take nap myself instead of waking you by getting up. Hungry?”
I nodded and my stomach rumbled in agreement. “Yes, ma'am.”
“Call me Flashdance,” she insisted. “Stay right where you are, then. I'll be back with a nice eggplant salad.” She was careful as she unwound her forelegs from around me, then climbed over me and jumped to the carriage floor below. I crawled to the edge of the bunk to peer down, looking for the other two ponies. Acorn was at a small circular table looking over a thick book, a pencil in his mouth, and Moonstone was sprawled out on the carriage floor surrounded by different small bits of fabrics. The unicorn looked up in my direction when Flashdance started digging around in a small clooer by the door.
“I was wondering if you'd sleep the whole way home.”
My eyes widened and my heart beat a hard cadence in my chest. “Home?” I didn't want to go home! “No,” I muttered thickly, tears quickly blurring my vision and running down my cheeks. “No, I don't want to go home! Please don't make me go home!”
“Shut her up!” hissed Acron.
“Easy, little one,” said Flashdance, tilting her head up to touch her nose to my hoof. “It's all right. Moonstone meant Trottingham. It's home to all of us.” She glanced at the unicorn who nodded and surrounded me with her magic again, floating me down to the floor. Both she and Flashdance stood over me and tried to still my panic. “We're not taking you home.”
“We don't even know where your home is,” Moonstone added.
With a wrinkled brow and worried expression, Flashdance tucked her legs under her body and lay down beside me. “Blinkie, why don't you want to go home?” I couldn't answer. Now that I'd started crying I simply couldn't stop. I was terrified of going home to my father and the very idea of it made me want to run. Flashdance's worried expression shifted slightly and I could have sworn I saw anger in her eyes. “Blinkie, did this...were you hurt at home?” Somehow I managed a nod and was immediately pulled into an embrace. I saw Acorn watching from the corner of my eye; his expression softened just slightly.
“You've got to calm her down,” he said, glancing meaningfully at the closed door at the back of the carriage. “Glass Slippers will flip her wig if she sees-”
“We know!” Moonstone barked quietly. It was she who had pulled me close and now floated a tissue over to dry my eyes. “It's okay now, Blinkie. You're safe here. No pony is going to hurt you.”
“And we're certainly not taking you home,” said Flashdance with finality. She looked at Moonstone, determination on her face. “She can stay with us then, yeah?”
“I don't see why not.”
I looked between the two, rubbing my hooves over my eyes. “With both of you?”
“Flashdance and I are sisters. We share a flat.”
“We can turn the work room into a room for her!”
“It's not like either of us has been home to use it much, anyway.”
“Excuse me.” Acorn got to his hooves to stand over the three of us. “You know how I hate to be the voice of reason and bring everypony down, but you do realize you can't simply take this filly into your home and raise her like she's yours. No matter how sad her story may be, it's still foalnapping.”
“But I don't want to go home!” I insisted. “I want to stay with Flashdance and Moonstone!”
“And you will,” Flashdance promised, sparing Acorn a quick, dark glance. Returning her attention to me, she offered a smile. “We'll figure it out when we get home, all right? Now, how about some of that salad?”
“And then a bath,” said Moonstone. “We need to look over those scrapes and bumps and make sure you're okay.”
Acorn sighed dramatically and went back to his table. “Fine, pretend you're some new happy family. Just don't call me to come bail you out when the royal guards come and throw your tails in the dungeon.”