A young filly waywardly meandered the halls of her small cottage, startled awake due to a horrid nightmare. She stumbled about, seeking any type of comfort. The storm that raged relentlessly outside only worsened her fear, and with each lightning flash and thunder crack, the filly cowered and shook before steeling her resolve and moving again. As she turned a nondescript corner, she heard a familiar voice, with a foreign tone to it. Since the owner of the voice could supply the comfort the filly desired, she moved in the general direction of the voice. As
"I won't let you do that to our daughter," huffed the voice the filly had come to know as caring and benevolent. She had never heard it sound so remorseful, so hateful, so sad. The filly had just then reached the doorway to the room in which the owner of the voice was currently residing. She crept her head into the room to see what was happening. With the help of a flash of lightning, she saw a quick image of a mare and a stallion, the former standing tall in the center and the latter sitting in a bed. Fearing one of their wandering eyes to catch sight of her, the filly quickly recoiled back, hiding against the framework of the doorway.
"Our daughter? Try your daughter," replied a stallion's voice. This voice was one the filly heard before, but no concrete image of the owner was ever set in her mind. He continued, "'sides. I hate you as much as you hate me. It would be for the best."
"We have to stay together. You don't know what a marital split can do to a child's psychological well-being."
"Using fancy words doesn't change my mind, honey," the sound of multiple hooves touching the floor was then heard. "We've been over for Celestia knows how long. Why don't we just make it official?"
"We need to stick together for the family's sake."
"That's not convincing me."
"You know I can't provide for this family alone."
"So, let me get this straight."
"Okay..."
"Right, so: the only reasons for you insisting I stick around is to save the 'psychological well-being' of a foal I didn't want to have, and so that you can mooch off of my paycheck?"
"If you have to put it so harshly..."
"What other way is there to put it?" A long, awkward pause followed this question. The only sound made was the floor's creaking. "Thought so. I'm gone."
Another long pause. The sounds of movement were the only ones the filly could here. "I don't know why I ever loved you," the mare's voice said after many long moments.
"Don't try to pull at my heart-strings with your stupid guilt trips. It only worked when I was young and stupid." Another long pause. "Well, maybe you're just the only mare around easy enough to love this sad excuse for a stallion. It must have felt good that one night. That was the only time there was ever love," he continued, his voice heightening in volume and gaining a poisonous ring as it continued to speak.
The mare did not respond. The only sound that she produced was a sorrowful sniff.
"Crying again? You're just about as useless as that pathetic daughter of yours," the stallion said. The only response was a myriad of sniffs and sobs. The brief moment of silence that followed was broken when a loud bucking sound resounded throughout the house, followed by a skid and a thud.
"Pathetic," the stallion muttered. The normal response of sobs and sniffs was replaced with full-on crying. The sound of a somewhat heavy frame getting into bed was then heard by the filly, who sat frozen in place, leaned on the framework of the doorway. She gradually moved her head around the corner once more in attempt to grasp what had happened. She saw the mare sprawled across the floor, shaking heavily as sob after sob escaped her person. The stallion sat in bed, staring down at the mare with a remorseless look of satisfaction. The mare appeared to grow transparent as time went on, fading away slowly, her sobs fading with her. It had been only minutes until she had completely disappeared. Time felt frozen for the young filly, who only sat in shock, eyes locked on the place the mare's body had been. The stallion shook his head, and caught sight of the young filly out of the corner of his eyes.
"You," he began, rising from the bed, and trudged toward the filly with little rush, his robust frame now apparent to the young filly. He looked down at the filly for a long moment, with a look of sheer and unbridled spite. The filly looked up, shaking uncontrollably as her legs failed her in her attempts to flee. After a long moment of silence, the filly no longer felt the floor beneath her hooves, and felt nothing but the faint wind of movement against her face. Whatever action led to her sudden ability to fly was unknown in the pitch black darkness of the hallways. The only thing she heard was the steadily slow beating of hooves against the wooden floor.
After many painfully long minutes of noiselessness, the filly was then dropped into bed, the wind being blown out of her small lungs as her body connected with the mattress. Covers hit her face as they were thrown over her with little care. A sternly commanded "Now go to sleep," were the last words she heard for the night.