Mother and father don’t love me.
That single thought penetrated Pinkamena’s skull.
No one loves me.
She quickly pushed it into the back of her mind. Of course her parents loved her, that’s what parents were supposed to do. Just like families were supposed to be. Loving.
But sitting in her room, sore all over and quietly crying to herself, Pinkamena didn’t know what her family was supposed to be at all. Families were supposed to care for one another, encourage them, protect them. They weren’t supposed to ignore their daughter or tell her she was silly or stupid. They weren’t supposed to be disappointed when Pinkamena got her chores done early so she could color or play. Pinkamena also knew that they weren’t supposed to tell her her cutie mark was worthless.
She had gotten her cutie mark just last month and she had thought everything would be better after the party she threw. She thought they could be happy, she thought they could have fun. She thought they would love her.
She was wrong. That first party had them smiling for awhile but when it was over and everypony finally noticed her cutie mark everything had fallen apart. Her parents had hated it. Her sisters had laughed at it. They all told her it was worthless. That she was worthless.
She didn’t stop trying to make them happy, she would ask if they could have a picnic or if they could play a game. She would help them in whatever way she could, always doing extra things to make them happy. It was hopeless though, whenever she tried to make her family smile, her parents would glare at her. They would shake their heads and tell her no.
She did fun things anyway. She added a few spoons of sugar into their oatmeal, she painted a few rocks so they wouldn’t be so boring. She hummed to herself whenever she got the chance.
Her family didn’t understand.
They’d scold her and punish her and destroy whatever happiness she tried to bring. They didn’t even try to accept what Pinkamena was trying to give them and they constantly grew angrier with her.
They had gotten so angry with her and each other that one day she couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t live with ponies who sucked the happiness she was despretly feeding them just to crush it into nothingness.
She snapped.
She threw another party.
That would cheer them up, that would make them smile at least for a little bit. That would stop their anger and their hate. Pinkamena knew it would. It had to.
But it hadn’t. Instead of making them smile and laugh it made them scowl and yell. They told her to stop. They told her she needed to be more serious. They told her how much they hated her.
They didn’t stop.
They beat her so she would stop, so she would be perfect just like their other two daughters. It hurt so much. Everything did. And Pinkamena cried for the first time since she got her cutie mark.
Finally they had sent her to her room where the terrifying thought attacked her brain.
My family doesn’t love me.
She buried her face into her hooves, sobbing. She stayed like that as she listened to her parents yelling downstairs. Yelling about her. About what they were going to do with her. She buried her head deeper and cried harder.
Finally the yelling stopped and hoof steps echoed into Pinkamena’s ears. Her bedroom door slowly creaked open and her father stepped in.
He prodded Pinkamena and flicked his tail towards the door, gesturing for her to follow him. His eyes were cold and filled with disappointment.
Pinkamena slunk out of her bedroom and down the stairs. She stopped when she reached her mother and sisters. Her mother was glaring at her the same way her father did and her sisters were staring at her with hatred. Pinkamena cringed under their stares, but held her ground.
She felt her father’s hoof across her back and glanced up at him. He didn’t meet her eye but gestured towards the door.
She stared at him inquisitively but didn’t question him, instead following him out the door and into the fields.
She glanced around at their property, her eyes filled with questions but her father still would not look her in the eye and steadily trotted forward.
They walked for what seemed like hours, exiting their farm and making their way towards town. When they finally reached it Pinkamena’s eyes filled with wonder, she had never even left the farm and now she was trotting through one of the busiest places she’d ever seen.
Ponies wandered everywhere, shopping, chatting, laughing and enjoying each others company. Pinkamena’s heart filled with joy at some many happy ponies. She smiled up at her father and gave a little bounce to her step. To her disappointment her father continued looking straight ahead, not even acknowledging the happy greeting of other ponies.
Their walk took them across town and to the outskirts. Pinkamena looked back longingly at the happy town but continued following her father. Her brow scrunched at the building they were approaching. Foal’s heads peeked out of windows peppering the sides of a large dark building.
Her father marched straight through the doors and guided her over to some chair by a counter. Once she was seated he went over to the lady behind the desk and started talking to her.
Pinkamena gazed around the room. It seemed like a waiting area at a doctors or something like that. Chairs lined the wall and a hallway snaked further into the building. Pinkamena squirmed on her seat, tension filling her body.
Finally the adults had finished talking and Pinkamena’s father walked out of the building. Pinkamena started to follow but the lady that was behind the desk reached a hoof out to stop her. Pinkamena looked up at her in confusion but she just shook her head and pointed to a sign on the far end of the room.
Pinkamena walked over to it and read carefully. Her eyes widened at the words and she ran over to the window to see her father walk away from the orphanage.
My family doesn’t love me.
The thought came again loud and clear. Pinkamena pounded on the window and called out to her father to come back, tears streaming down her face.
But I still love them.