//------------------------------// // Understand? Perceive? Or Simply Grieve? // Story: Waking Up in Black and White // by _Kenzu_ //------------------------------// Understand? Perceive? Or Simply Grieve? ___________________________________________________ The voice I heard was obvious. My father was home from a long day of work. The sound of the front door’s creaking hinges opening was all the motivation I needed to gallop at full speed for my room. I could hear the heavy footsteps of my father’s work boots echoing through the hall as if calling my inevitable discovery. Suddenly, they stopped as I could only guess that he passed the kitchen. “What in the hell!?” I heard his voice bellow through the house like clap of thunder. My father was never the type to get mad about anything, but the rare occasions when he did, everyone around knew. I tried to close my bedroom door as quietly as I could the moment I made it through the doorway. “JACE!” My dad called from the other side of the house. I guess not quietly enough. The footsteps began again, getting close enough to where I could hear them even through the door. I put myself in front the door, leaning against it as my whole body began to shake with each closing footstep. I felt like I had found myself in the eye of a raging storm, with no hope of escape. The footsteps finally ceased just outside the door. “Jace, what on earth did you do to my kitchen?” My dad asked through the door, the frustration obvious in his voice. My fear boiled over as I watched the doorknob begin to turn. Before I knew it I launched myself against the door, my front hooves clapping loudly against the wood. “Don’t come in please!” I shouted as I put all my weight against the door. “What you see, may make you freeze.” My dad immediately let go of the door as he heard my voice. “Jace is someone in there with you?” I cursed to myself under my breath and I shut my eyes. Somehow I had forgotten all about the fact that my voice wasn’t my own anymore till that very moment. “What’s going on in there?” My father demanded. The frustration that was in his words only moments ago had taken a suspicious tone. I gasped for air as I began to think about my position. There was nothing left I could do to delay the inevitable. I couldn’t hide in my room forever, and even if I wanted to, there was no way I’d be able to keep my father from pushing my small body out of the way and entering by force. I sighed, and pushed the lump in my throat down. “D…Dad I’ll give you good warning… something happened this morning.” I cringed as I finished the rhyme before I could stop myself. I let go of the door and backed away into the corner of the room beside my dresser, trying to make myself as small as possible in some vain hope that my father wouldn’t notice the small black and white equine. “Just… promise me you won’t get angry.” I said as calmly as I could from my improvised hiding spot. There was no answer from the other side of the door. I watched as the doorknob began to turn again, the door creaking open slowly as my dad entered. I stared at my dad anxiously as he scanned the room in search for something, or more likely, someone. He was always a tall man, even taller than me when I was a six foot human, but now he seemed as if he was a giant from my new height. He scratched the facial hair on his chin, confused at the empty room, before he finally turned to my direction, his eyes locking with my own. “uhh... Hi Dad.” I grinned sheepishly as he realized what he was looking at. There was another awkward silence as we just stared at each other. Neither of us moved, or talked, just stared. I could tell my dad was still trying to comprehend what sort of creature he was looking at, but it did not take him long to come to the realization of what was going on. I felt paralyzed under him as the expression on his face quickly changed. In his face I didn’t see anger, hate, surprise, not even frustration. What I did see however made me want to crawl inside myself in shame. It was disappointment. I broke eye contact with him and stared down at my hooves. My dad finally broke the awkward silence in the room. “So, you’re one of those ponies on the news now?” he said as he crossed his arms. The way he said it hit me worse than any punch in the stomach. “I…” I was at a loss for words as I looked back up to him for only a moment. “This may seem bad, what has been done. But inside this form, I’m still your son.” I winced as the rhyme seemed to do little to convince my father. ‘Rolled a one on your bluff check.’ I scolded myself. “May seem bad, look at you,” my dad said as he threw his arms to his side. “This doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me you watched a show for little girls before you went and sprouted a tail.” My dad continued to look down on me with a slight frown as I curled my hooves closer to my body. “Did you at least think about what you were doing before it happened?” I shuffled my hooves together, not wanting to make eye contact again. Did he really think I did this on purpose? “I didn't ask for this to happen, it just did. And also-“I caught myself as I realized what I was doing. I would normally never even consider raising my voice to my parents, but something inside just seemed to click. “And what?” My father countered as he looked to me sternly. I curled my tail beside me and closed my eyes trying to force the calm thoughts from before back to the surface. I couldn’t believe what I was about to say. “Bronies they are called, the ones who have resolved, to love a show meant for girls, but nonetheless, love for said show has unfurled,” I spoke trying to ignore how naturally the rhyme flowed off my tongue. I looked back up to my father as I heard a deep grumble from the bottom of his throat. “So why didn't you tell me about this sooner?” I dug my hoof into the carpet as I stared blankly down to it. “I wasn't sure what to expect, if your responses would deject...” It wasn’t the whole truth though. I wasn’t sure how anyone would take it if they’d found me watching a silly kids show. Many times I had turned the volume of my computer down to a whisper just so I could assure myself that no one would listen as I watched the online streams. Other times I would worry if my parents would ever go through my computer and find the sketches that I had drawn of the show, or the small scribbles of fanfic writing I never would bother to post and come to some horrible off the wall conclusion. I knew it was an absurd thought, but it always haunted the edge of my mind. Just like the thought of losing the few friends I’d made since arriving in the evrefree would haunt me in my sleep on occasion. “So you kept quiet because you were afraid.” My dad sighed, dragging me back to reality. “Sounds like something you’d do.” It was another low blow. “I’m sorry for my action, and everything that’s happened, I didn't hope for this reaction.” I tried to assure him as finally had enough confidence to look him in the eye. The frustration from before was gone, but I could still see the disappointment in his eyes. “Stop rhyming,” he commanded sternly as he locked his gaze with me, “why don't you just speak normally.” I recoiled a little at his gaze which seemed to be all consuming. “To speak in rhyme is not my intention,” I said as I broke eye contact again, “but... with effort, I can talk at my own discretion.” I stopped talking as my father gave an exasperated sigh. “Err... sorry” I apologized as I flinched. “I guess it’s because I’m Zecora.” “You are who and what now?” My dad asked confused, a noticeable shock in his voice. The reality of what I had just said began to sink in as I nervously tapped my hooves together. Though unintentional, I had just introduced myself as a fictional character instead of myself in a manner of speaking. What was probably worse was how easily it went by unnoticed. “Well,” I continued, carefully choosing my words, “Zecora is a character from the friendship is magic show, and she usually speaks in rhymes-” “And now you’re stuck as this, Zecora, character.” My father cut me off as he rubbed his forehead tiredly. “Just how long do you plan on staying like this?” I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out as my jaw just hung there. I had no idea how to answer that one. It was certainly a valid question. Would this last till Lauren Faust and the Mane six did whatever they needed to do? If so, how long would that take? A day, week, month…? I didn’t want to think any further than that. I found myself trembling slightly as I shoved those thoughts away. “You don’t know, do you,” my dad declared, the frustration in his voice returning. Somehow he always managed to read me like a book, apparently even as a zebra. He moved, as if about to say more, but stopped when I looked up at him. I must have looked like I was in a near panic. Instead, he simply turned back to the door. “What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into now…” “Sorry…” I squeaked. I wasn’t even sure what I was apologizing for. It just felt as if it needed to be said. I stared at the black and white forelegs that used to be my arms in shame. Just how long would they be there? “Well, nothing you can do about it now.” my dad breathed “Anyway, the kitchen is a mess. Something to do with… this, I guess?” he said as he pointed in my general direction. “Zecora is a potion master, though her skills, I thought I could learn faster,” I said, slightly embraced. I could tell however that he had stopped listening the moment I said my name. “Whatever, just, get it cleaned up,” he said, walking out of the room. He didn’t even bother to look back as he grabbed the doorknob. “I’ll be in the computer room… We’ll talk more about this at dinner.” And with that, he closed the door behind himself with a not so light slam, leaving me in solitude once again. I finally dislodged myself from the corner between the wall and the cabinet. I gasped for air as if I had just run a marathon. The first talk with my father about my hobby couldn’t have gone any better than I had expected. I never expected that he would understand. Being the only son of a family with three sisters, my parents had long since stopped trying to understand my usual antics and shenanigans. They were used to raising my older sisters, but didn’t exactly anticipate getting a son. Still, they were my parents, and worked as best they could, but simply put, boys were different than girls, and even then, I was probably not your typical son. But now, they would no longer have to worry about details in gender. I poked my head out of the door and looked out the hallway, seeing no one around. The coast was clear for now. I wasn’t sure who I was looking for. I felt as if now that my family knew, I was exposed to the entire world without any way to hide the shame of what I had become. I walked out of my room being as quiet as I could on my hooves, but the tile floors made it practically impossible as I made my way back to the kitchen. Once I returned I looked around at my handiwork. The kitchen itself had been in much better shape since I had left it last. Most of the green ooze that was everywhere had been cleaned from the floors to as high as I could reach on the walls. The scorch marks had been a bit trickier to deal with, requiring actual cleaners to be used. I learned quickly that opening and closing bottles was definitely a challenge with hooves, especially since I dared not put my mouth anywhere near the chemicals. The only thing really left to work with was the counters and upper walls. I sighed and dragged a chair from the dining room in, using it as a platform and got back to work from where I left off. As I began to work, a sound made my ear swivel to the side before I could turn. I looked back, seeing my father watching from the doorway curiously. His gaze still made me recoil a bit. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but only sighed and shook his head. I quickly found myself turning my head away in shame as he left the room. I tried to ignore my feelings of doubt as I continued my work, but the image of my father still nagged at the back of my mind. I poured all my effort into tidying up the kitchen to try to shake the thoughts away. ____________ Eventually the work was paying off as most traces of the explosion had disappeared. I scrubbed vigorously at a particularly stubborn burn mark on the counter. If I could just get it out, I would be finished. As the last mark finally disappeared, I took a moment to bask in my work. The explosion looked as if it had never happened, other than the simple empty jars still on the counter from my experimenting. I looked around the room, making sure I had not missed one detail during the cleaning. It was only then that I noticed the footsteps approaching again. I turned to the kitchen door expecting to see my father again checking up on me, but as the figure turned the corner, I couldn't have been more wrong. “Jace? If your home I have groceries in the car if you could go get them for me.” I heard a feminine voice call from just around the corner, my mother’s voice. I wasn’t even able to move from the center of the floor as she turned the corner to hang her keys on the rack. Our eyes met immediately as she stopped. Her keys fell out of her hand, crashing on the kitchen floor loudly. “Mo-?” I wasn’t able to finish before I heard what I was expecting. “What!?” my mom shrieked on top of her lungs causing my eardrums to ring. “Mom,” I raised a hoof to calm her down and I took a step forward. “Can’t you see? It’s only me.” She stepped back instinctively as if she had just seen a mouse. “Stay back, I’m warning you.” She said as she dug through her purse. I froze in place immediately. I knew exactly what she was reaching for, her pepper spray. She’d always carry it for her mail routes as a postal worker in case of an angry dog, and right now I was probably just as good of a target. My father practically burst out of the computer room next door almost immediately as soon as he had heard the commotion. He didn't get far when he saw the situation. “Brad, one of those things is in the kitchen!” My mother yelled to him as she pointed at me. I cringed as I heard the word ‘thing’ come out of her mouth, the same way she would scream about a house pest. “Honey… we need to talk.” My father said calmly as he grabbed her shoulder, motioning for her to come with him. “In our room?” My mother tore away from him before extending an arm towards me. “Not until that horse is out of my house!” she demanded. She always knew the best way to word things when she was stressed. “Mom, it’s me, your daughter Jace, I simply have a different face!” I exclaimed hurriedly as I lowered my head, craning my neck to keep looking up at her. I gave a hopeful smile looking up to her, but it was obvious she wanted nothing to do with me. “You can't be my son!” she cried, turning back to me banging her hands against her hips. “He’s just a normal boy! Not one of those... things!” “Karen,” my father said, taking my mother’s shoulders with both hands. He tried turning her around but she kept staring at me balefully. “That is Jace.” The words seemed to stun her as she stared daggers in my direction. Her mouth quivered as she looked down at me. She seemed almost speechless before she yelled “What have you done with my son?” “Mother it is true, this fact I give, from me to you,” I recited quickly as my speech devolved into rhyming. “I am your son, let there be no doubt. Even though I am a lout, I still love you dearly. Does my shame not show that clearly?” “NO!” my mother screamed. Her face was red with anguish as she leaned over. “My son isn’t some sort of animal!” ‘There has to be something,’ I thought to myself, still trying to keep a smile. I just felt I had to prove to her that I was who I said she was. Maybe if I did that, she’d calm down and actually help instead of just scream. I quickly shuffled through my memories for anything that would prove to her I was who I said I was. “Remember the day, I drew you that work of art,” I turned to look at the wall gesturing to a single picture hanging idly in the corner, “you’ve always held close to your heart. Our family was at the beach, though the water, you would never let us reach,” I looked back to her as I thought back to that day. “I decided to draw in my sketching pad, a scene that would make you glad. Something to be a reflection, of how you had and have my affection.” My mother seemed to be taken back a moment when she looked at me. “I don't believe you.” She lied harshly. “Mom…” I felt something wet run down my muzzle before I noticed the tears streaming down my face. I took a step closer to my parents. I just wasn’t sure what to do anymore “I said, don’t come any closer.” My mom yelled as she quickly pulled her pepper spray out of her purse. Thinking quickly, my father batted her hand away just as she was about to push the trigger. I stared in a mixture of shock and horror at the two humans in front of me. My own mother was ready to attack me, even when she knew who I was. “But, it’s me...” “Come on,” my father intervened as he took the spray out of her hand, setting it aside on the counter and out of reach. My mother stopped any resistance as he guided her out of the kitchen and down the hallway I walked out of the kitchen, as I heard my parent’s bedroom door slam shut. I brushed away the tears that had collected on my cheek, trying to pull myself together, but it was just no good. The thought of my parents’ disgust at me threatened to tear my heart out of my chest. They had found out one of my closest secrets in what was almost undoubtedly the worst possible way, and there was no way to put the genie back in the bottle now. I sat down on my haunches and just stared back down at the floor, ignoring the small drops of water that hit the tile every now and again. Everything that happened today, I had managed to force a brave face and a smile for. This though was different, and it stung deep. I wasn't sure I could feel like I was any more helpless.