“So it’s cutie marks now?” Planter said.
Orange Picker’s parents towered over her and glared down at her. Planter’s eyes twitched and he ground his teeth so hard they let out a screech with every movement. Juicer too looked angry, but it was obvious that her expression was half forced, compared to her husband’s which was one hundred percent pure rage. OP still smiled, as her euphoria from Nectar was still in effect. The sight of her parents caused her bliss to die down. She kept her smile and chuckled. “So what’s the punishment? And please try to be somewhat creative this time.”
Planter stepped forward. His grinding intensified. ”Punishment? You’ll wish I punished you. You have any idea what you made your mother n me go through?”
OP smirked. “Yeah. A ten to thirty minute long meeting where you all bitched about how bad and out of control I am, all while sitting on the best desks the school could afford, after hours of back breaking work in the fields without a second of break. You should be thanking me.” She walked past her parents and went into the living room.
Planter growled and turned around. He ran after her. “Hey. Don’t try n act smart.” She kept on smirking. “We’ve had to put up with a lot because of you.” He pointed at his wife who was still at the door. “Your mother can’t even go to the market without getting dirty looks, and that’s nothing compared to what she goes through when you’re out all the time doing Celestia knows what. But now you’ve got that teacher of yours threatening to send your mother n me to the dungeons.” He stomped the floor. His hoof dug deep into the earth. “The dungeons,” he screamed. “And all because of your little speech this morning. I’m not going anywhere because of you, you hear me ya little runt.” He turned to his wife. “And why are you so quiet? Say something already.”
Juicer walked to the others. She stood tall and glared at her daughter, but once again it was obvious that it was all just a show with her. She inhaled and pushed out her chest. “Your father’s right. This has gone on for years now, but you’ve finally pushed somepony too far this time.”
Orange Picker chuckled. “So this time I pushed somepony too far?” She showed her parents the bottom of her hooves. They were sprinkled with blood and cuts. Her father was unaffected, but Juicer gasped with her hoof over her mouth. “It wasn’t the thousands of absences, or all the wild animals I’ve fought, or even how I jumped off a cliff like fifty times this morning. It was because I spoke out against cutie marks. Gotta protect the youth right?”
Juicer walked closer to her daughter. “No, you have it all wrong. Miss Blossom cares about you, we all do, but-.”
“Yeah yeah, I know what you’re gonna say. But why then did Ms. B reach her breaking point now and not all the other times I came into class with cuts and stuff? Like you said, this has been going on for years,” OP said. Juicer didn’t respond. “Everything was fine when I was only a threat to myself, but now that I called out her horseshit I need to be stopped.”
“But it isn’t…that,” Juicer said. Her glare and angry look wore off. Her back hunched. “Cutie marks are-.”
“Please don’t gimme the speech again,” Orange Picker said. “I already heard it this morning. I’ve lost enough brain cells for one day.”
“Hey!” Planter moved his head closer to his daughter’s. “Don’t talk to your mother like that.” Orange Picker giggled. She’d always found it funny how it was the husband’s job to defend his wife’s honor and not her own. “Look, I don’t care if you think cutie marks are the work of Discord himself; you’re going to keep your mouth shut about them.” He bumped his daughter into the wall with his hoof. “Ya hear?”
She smiled. Planter’s hoof kept her glued to the wall. “No,” she said.
Planter pressed his hoof into her harder. “I’m tired of this,” he screamed. Orange Picker took the pain without a flinch. “Just listen to me. Please.”
Juicer ran to them and grabbed her husband’s hoof. “Stop this!” She yanked it away. Orange Picker was free. Juicer faced her husband. “How can you do this? She’s still your daughter.” Planter opened his mouth, but she put her hoof over it. “We don’t even know why she’s like this. Shouldn’t asking her be the first thing we do?”
Planter ripped her hoof away. “Stop acting like it’s some big mystery.” He glared at his daughter. “I know her kind. She thinks she’s bigger than the farm and us ‘simple folk.’ Probably lives by some motto like ‘Live life to the fullest’ or some other nonsense. There’s plenty of young ponies like her. She’s nothing special.”
Orange Picker tried to hold in her laughter, but couldn’t. “Who do you think I am? I’m actually offended that you think I’m that selfish. I’m not some walking cliché.”
Planter’s glare disappeared. “What? That’s not it…” He raised his voice. “Then what is it? What’s your problem?”
Orange Picker froze. A tightening pressure overtook her body. She couldn’t swallow her spit. It was a sensation she’d hadn’t felt for years, but one she knew she’d have to one day face again. She looked down. “Don’t worry about it…for now. I’ll tell you guys one day; I promise. Just not now.”
Planter stomped the ground. “No. No more games!”
“No. I’m not ready yet!” Orange Picker screamed back. She got into her fighting stance and locked onto her dad. If it was fight or confess before she was ready, then the choice was clear. Her mouth opened though, as if it had a mind of its own. The words wanted to come out, but she forced them down. It then hit her—she was afraid.
Orange Picker clenched her jaw and shivered from the thought of being binded by fear. She closed her eyes and exhaled. The words were free. She looked her parents in the eye. “Alright. Guess I might as well just say it. Gotta let it out sometime.” She paused. Her parents stayed silent. “The reason I do all this…is to prove it.”
Planter and Juicer looked at each other, still silent. Picker took a deep breath. “I want to prove that everypony can do a lot more than they think they can, and not just what some stamp on their ass says they should do. This isn’t for me; none of it is. I want to prove that it shouldn’t matter what you’re born as or meant to be. Cuz if a filly like me, who couldn’t even run a block without dying, can do more, then so can anypony else.”
Her parents remained silent and stared at her. She walked closer to them. “Don’t you get what I’m saying? Cutie marks, special talents, destiny, all that stuff, it makes ponies content when they’re capable of so much more. I mean think about; there's a reason technology in Equestria never improves that much. Ponies need an example to show them, and I'm gonna be that example." She raised her voice. "And it’s not like what pony gets what special talent is fair. One pony can be destined to be an orange farmer without wings or magic, while another could be Equestria’s best flyer or even a princess that can move the entire sun.” She stomped the ground. “How is that not horseshit? Huh? Tell me.”
Juicer stepped closer to her daughter and put her hoof over her. “Is that it?” She smiled. “Look, I know you feel strongly about this, but you couldn’t be more wrong. Cutie marks aren’t chains; a pony can do other things beside their special talent; there’s nothing stopping them.” Orange Picker faced away. “I know it might seem unfair, but everypony is happy doing their special talents. A pony meant to buck apples all day will enjoy their special talent just as much as one meant to be a Wonderbolt—maybe even more.”
OP shook her mother’s hoof off. “And that’s the problem. You’re all so content with it even though you’re the losers.” She stood tall and pointed at herself. “Take me for example. My special talent is obviously picking oranges; I’d have to be a retard not to figure that out. My destiny is to work in the fields for the rest of my life and nothing more, at least as far as my cutie mark is concerned. No matter what I do I’ll never be a princess, even if I can run the kingdom better than Celestia, just because I wasn’t lucky enough to be born an Alicorn and get a sun on my ass like her. And it’s not like I’m meant to master some magic like love either.”
Planter’s jaw dropped. He stood silent and switched back and forth between looking at Orange Picker and his wife, no doubt dumbstruck by what he was hearing. The sight of him unable to speak was as jarring as it was hilarious. He looked like a completely different pony. Juicer stepped in front of him. “Is that was this is all about? About being a princess?” she said.
Orange Picker’s head shot back. “What? No.” She laughed on the inside. “It’s the principle I’m talking about.” She pointed at her parents. “Like you two. You’ll never be more than a bunch of orange farmers in some town that doesn’t even have a name, when you’re capable of so many great things if you go after them. You’ll never be famous. Nopony outside of this town will ever know your name. Why doesn’t that bother you?”
Her parents turned to each other for a second. They turned back to her. “It just…doesn’t,” Juicer said. She smiled. “I’d die a happy mare if I could work in the fields and juice oranges till the day I die. Same with your father here.” She turned to Planter. “Isn’t that right honey?” He didn’t respond and was still paralyzed. His eyes were twice their normal size.
Orange Picker growled. She raised her hooves into the air. “Can’t say I’m surprised. This is exactly why I spoke up in class today. The only reason you all are like this is because they shove this special talent and self-discovery crap down your throats since day one.”
“Nope,” Juicer said, still smiling. “I would’ve juiced oranges no matter what anypony said. Always wanted to. Always will.”
Orange Picker was at a loss for words. She kept her mouth open and stuttered some indecipherable babble. No matter what she thought of, no matter how good the argument, Jucier’s smile beat her down and kept her silent. She growled. “Yeah…well just wait until I’m done then.” She smiled menacingly. “One day I’ll get more ponies on my side and change this place forever. Then you’ll see.” Juicer still smiled. “In my Equestria everypony’ll get an equal chance to be great, not just those that win some lottery. Everypony’ll be able to fly and do magic. And if not me then sompeony else will do it.”
“Okay,” Juicer said. She caressed her daughter. “And I’ll be right here, still making juice.”
Orange Picker glared at Juicer. She paused and opened her mouth. Nothing. She growled and ran out of the house.
-----------------------------------------------
Orange Picker ran away from the farm and to a nearby hill. She kicked the ground, making her way several inches into the hill. The moonlight illuminated the many worms and critters on the ground. “Ugh. Did I really just get schooled by my mom?” She sat down and exhaled. “Maybe she’s right though? I mean if she can beat me then it’s probably not that strong of an argument. “She lay down and spread her hooves. “And it’s not like she was totally wrong either. She loves making juice; no denying that. But how can that be the only thing she wants to get good at?”
OP rolled around and looked up at the moon. She sighed. “Either this place deserves a medal for brainwashing its ponies so good, or I’m crazier than I thought.” She chuckled. “But either way, guess the revolution’s never happening. So much for that dream.”
Hoofsteps came from the far side of the hill. OP got up. Nectar and her parents walked together, smiling and laughing. Orange Picker watched as they got closer. Nectar saw her and ran closer. “Hey OP, what are you doing here? Still fighting bears?” she said, laughing.
Orange Picker laughed along. The fact that it wasn’t sincere made her feel dirty. “Na, I’m done with that. Just chillin, and stuff. What about you?”
“Having an after dinner walk with my family.” Nectar’s family waved at them. “We do this every night. It’s kind of a tradition in my family actually.” OP looked down and frowned. “You okay? You seem sad.” Nectar nudged her. “I know what’ll cheer you up.” She smiled. “My family said they’re okay with letting me skip class tomorrow. We can train all day.”
Orange Picker growled and stepped away. Her mother's face returned to her. “Sorry, but I can’t go. If you wanna go then do it, but I’m not coming.”
Nectar’s jaw dropped. “B-But…huh? What happened?”
Orange Picker turned to her. She kept her head down. “I got a question Nectar. Do you like your special talent?”
Nectar paused. Her family walked away, continuing their stroll without her. “Maybe…? If I knew what it was it is.”
OP stepped closer to her. “Don’t be retarded. It’s obvious what your special talent is.” Nectar froze. “Your name’s Nectar. Your parents sent you to get the nectar from those flowers to heal. You're even the same color as nectar. It’s not like it’s some masterfully kept secret. It never is.”
Nectar giggled. “Actually, that makes a lot of sense. Pretty funny I never figured it out before. So yeah, I do like it. I’ve loved healing sick animals ever since I can remember.” She froze, “Oh,” and looked at her backside. It glowed, and out of the glow came a blue flower on the inside of a red drop. She smiled and jumped around with joy, squeeing all the while. Orange Picker frowned. “I can’t believe it. I wish my family was here. Finally. Woo hoo.” Nectar turned to her friend. Her smile dropped. “Sorry…I guess.”
“Na, you can be happy. My fault for being such a killjoy.” Orange Picker chuckled. “Guess I’ll never know that feeling. I’ve always hated my special talent. And I’m not talking about some generic, run of the mill hate; I’d rather-.”
“Yeah yeah. I think I know what you’re going to say,” Nectar said. Orange Picker and her shared a laugh.
“Just never got why I never liked it. I mean, isn’t it a part of our souls or bodies or whatever you wanna call it that we’re supposed to like our special talent?”
“Well then…what do you like?” Nectar said.
Orange Picker looked up at the moon. She thought back to all the times she was ever happy. Fighting bears, learning new languages, making wings—beating goals. She thought back to the days when talking to a stranger was just as scary as a bear, and her mom had to carry her to school. A pair of Bat Ponies flew in the sky. She imagined herself with them, diving through the air faster than anypony had ever gone before. Her back felt bare. It was an impossible dream, one that according to everypony else would never come true. She smiled and looked around for her book. A thrill came over her. There was another goal to beat, and another time to prove it.
Orange Picker turned to Nectar. “Everything.”