"FUCK!" I spat, throwing a bottle against the wall, the glass shattering and spraying the floor with dozens of razor sharp glass shards. Screaming in rage, I flipped the table over. Tears streamed down my face, leaving glistening trails as they rode down my skin. I fell to my knees, sobbing pitifully. The glass from the shattered bottle of alcohol was dug into my knees and hands. Blood streamed from the wounds, running down my arms as my palms met my eyes. The crimson liquid stained my clothing,
but I didn't care.
"Uncle Thomas?" a small voice squeaked. Turning, I gave a weak smile as a petite filly shakily stood in front of me, bleary-eyed. She looked at the state of me and the kitchen, noticing the broken glass and open wounds on my arms that were still leaking blood The wounds on my knees were not visible to here, as I was kneeling.
"Hey honey, shouldn't you be sleeping?" I whispered, brushing off the shards as I unsteadily got to my feet. “Please, be careful. There is glass around and I don’t want you to get hurt, okay?”
"I heard shouting and I got scared… Are you okay?" she whispered, holding her stuffed teddy bear to her chest. It was the same one I had gotten her for her third birthday. I offered her a sad smile as I looked at the mess that was once the kitchen.
"It’s okay. Uncle Thomas was just being clumsy, is all. Silly me." I croaked, wiping the last remaining shards of glass and blood off my jumper. More blood to clean, great. I tentatively picked up the white filly, making sure not to get blood on her as she nuzzled into my chest. Ascending the steep stairs proved a challenge and I stumbled a few times. The filly took it as me goofing about, giggling with each hobble. After a few more stumbles, we reached her bedroom.
Gently tucking the exhausted unicorn in, I gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. The nightlight cascaded a dim glow across the filly’s room. I kept it on, so she could sleep easier.
"Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?" she whispered, her azure eyes looking pleadingly to me. I softened at the gaze of the white filly. I grabbed a tiny oak chair, which was comically small for my size and settled myself down next to her. Sighing, she cuddled into her toys, a content smile on her face as I gently stroked her mane. Her eyelids drooped slightly, and then more, until they closed fully.
The gentle snores of the white pony echoed around the silent room. Giving a small sigh, I hoisted myself to my feet and gently kissing the sleeping filly on the forehead. Silently, I left the room, closing the door behind me. I made my way back downstairs, grabbing a broom on my way past the cupboard. With a sigh I quickly and efficiently swept the glass into a pile, and then swept it into a dust pan. Depositing the remains of the bottle into the bin as I gave a tired sigh, my eyes glancing over towards the source of my sorrow and anger. Laying crumbled beside an empty bottle of Everfree-Clearing was a note of condolence.
Dear Mr. Lewis,
It is with very heavy heart that I inform you of the sad news of the passing of Mr. Magnum and Mrs. Pearl. Whilst flying back from the Crystal Mountains, a freak storm forced the air ship down. We are sad to say that rescue teams have reported and identified the two of the bodies as Mr. Magnum and Mrs. Pearl.
The staff of this company want you to know that in this time of sorrow, we too share your grief.
A memorial will be held for them and all who perished in the crash at 8 o'clock on Tuesday. My deepest condolences for the loss of your friends.
Sincerely yours,
Golden Diplomat, Chargé d'affaires of Negotiation.
When I first arrived, I was still young only seventeen. All but two of the ponies shunned and feared me. Those two helped me by introducing me to their friends as well as giving me a room to sleep in. They supported me and even helped me to get a job when everyone else evaded me. I became close to them, having meals together and meeting up for a few drinks at the local bars. Four years later, Rarity was born, and I was named godfather, to my disbelief. seven years after that, Sweetie Belle was born. I received the privilege a second time.
Sniffling, I gently placed the photo back on the shelf. My eyes were red and swollen and my lips cracked as I took another swig from the nearly empty bottle clutched tightly in my hands. It was not the first, though, as countless other bottles littered the floor. I lethargically dragged myself into the living room. Collapsing into a recliner chair, my eyes shut as I passed out.
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"No! You’re lying!" Rarity screamed, tears running down her muzzle. Her small frame shook with every sob. The snivelling filly galloped up the stairs, slamming the door to her room. I gave a defeated sigh. Sweetie Belle, who was only two years old, was not old enough to contemplate death. Rather, she was getting more and more upset at the sudden change in temperament. The small filly held her stubby hooves out towards me seeking comfort. I reached over her crib, pulling the tiny foal to me as she whimpered. Making matters worse, the foal was experiencing her first horn growth.
As I had learnt first hand with Rarity, the horn grows most in the first ten years of their life. After that, it continues to grow at a much slower pace until the age of twenty-one. The process was like teething, so unpleasant and the foal had a habit of scratching her horn against any hard surface to relieve the itch. Gently bouncing Sweetie on my lap, I gave a soft snort as she started using my hand as a scratching post.
"No honey, you cannot do that. You may end up damaging your horn," I sighed, exhausted. Fearing a tantrum from the horn itch, I reached over the table, knocking an empty bottle aside as I grabbed the ointment used to ease the itch. I opened the cap and squirted the ointment onto my hand. Rubbing the goo into her horn, I made sure to do a well enough job to make sure she couldn't eat any of the stuff.
Grabbing her stuffed manticore, I tenderly placed the foal back in her cot, sighing as I looked towards the stairs. The faint sound of sobbing caused my heart to drop as I lightly knocked on the door. Receiving no answer, my hand reached out and grasped the doorknob. I pushed the door open, locking eyes with the filly. My shoes made almost no noise as I slowly walked across the wood flooring.. I reached her bed and sat down. The filly gazed at me expectantly, her eyes a red tint from the obscene amount of crying she had done.
Bastards! Do you not see what you have caused? I mentally cursed Magnum and Pearl, for the state Rarity was in. My anger for the two was quickly replaced with sorrow as I gently scooped the small pony up in my arms, allowing her to bury her face into my chest.
"I want mommy and daddy..." she sobbed, refusing to look at me as I merely sat and continued to comfort her.
"It has been said, 'Time heals all wounds,' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone! Magnum and Pearl were taken from this world too soon and I can say that the world is now a slightly darker place with their passing," Cup Cake finished, tears running down her face. Carrot Cake stood beside the grieving mare, comforting her as she returned to her seat.
I sat next to a weeping Rarity. The small filly was dressed in black and was cuddled into me. Sweetie Belle was snoozing quietly in my arms. I had been hesitant to bring the foal, but many had said it would good for her in later life to know that she got to see her parents off. The funeral did not last too long; the couple were lowered into the ground as a priest prayed for the two. When the first layer of soil was dropped onto the caskets, I bit down on my lip. It was like sealing the deal of death. I picked up the exhausted fillies; holding them close as I walked down the graveyard path. Hailing a taxi, I allowed my mind to wander, the silent ride home allowing me time to think.
The family lawyer would be arriving to finalize the adoption, as well as give a time for the reading of the will. A sudden large pothole seemed to rouse Rarity, because she gave a small sniffle and a whimper. I gently stroked her mane, something that always seemed to put her at ease. I could not deny that I was terrified. Very, very terrified. My hands were shaking. I barely survived on my own. Now, I had two little fillies to look after. The first thing to do would be to sell the flat. I would also start job searching tomorrow for a better paying job. Working at a high school did not pay the money that I would require to raise two kids and a house mortgage .
"Here we are," the taxi driver grunted as I counted out the bits I owed him. Walking up the small hill to the house, I awkwardly pulled my key out whilst holding the two sleeping girls. I unlocked the door and just as the key, awkwardly opened it. Yawning, I put both of them to bed. I collapsed onto the guest bed, too tired to head into my room. It took me mere seconds to fall into an uneasy sleep.
THREE WEEKS LATER
With a tired grunt, I hoisted myself out of bed. I made my way to the familiar sound and smell of Sweetie Belle. Only being two years old. she required a lot of love, attention, and work. This had put strain on my relationship with Rarity, as she found it hard to process why I was catering to Sweetie Belle all the time, but was too tired to play and spend time with her.
My breath reeked of alcohol as I quickly changed the fidgeting filly. Her small snivels echoing in the otherwise silent house. Gently bouncing the distressed foal on my knee, I allowed my mind to wonder, sweetie Belle cuddling closer.
The stress of raising the two had really started to wear me down. My work and sleeping schedule were suffering as a result.
The shock and grief of losing Magnum and Pearl had not gone away, and I was not taking it well. I hardly ate or slept and had become little more than a shambling corpse. It was affecting my temper and other emotions, making me snap at Rarity. She just kept crying... I felt horrible and feared that I would be a shitty guardian if I let my temper control me.
She had of course forgiven me, albeit tearfully, which had made it all the worse. I drank myself stupid that night and had passed out in the bathroom . The smell still made me cringe.
The reading of the will had been a near disaster. The two of them had left everything to their daughters, and a not bad sum of money to me. The other relatives, mostly consisting of spoilt, little bastards had made a massive fuss about me, their friend and their daughters getting more than them. Most of those fuckers didn't bother visiting when the couple was still alive, and continued that habit of negligence as the deceased were being buried.
The crux had been when one of the stallions had snapped at Sweetie Belle, who, in a fit of childish rage, threw one of her toys, making it hit the fellow in the face.. The poor filly started wailing as he screamed at her mercilessly .I remembered the look of fear on his face when I had dragged him outside and screamed at him. I had warned him that if he ever screamed at my nieces again, I would beat the living shit out of him.
The rest had wisely kept their mouths shut for the remaining of the will reading. I was also warned that I would be removed if it happened again. Ponies were much more forgiving than humans, that was for damn sure.
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"Uncle Thomas, Uncle Thomas! I drew a picture for you!" Rarity shouted, running into my room as I just finished making the bed. Turning, I gave a tired smile as I observed the crude drawing.
"Did you make this for me?" I asked, gently patting the happy filly on the head as she gave a proud nod. "Well this is going on my wall," I said, placing a small thumbtack through the top of the picture and sticking it into the wall. It took its place next to several other crude drawings by both her and Sweetie Belle.
The filly’s eyes dimmed as she suspiciously looked at the bottle in my hand. She glowered at the bottle, giving me a sad look as she trotted out the room, giving an indignant huff. Rarity was incredibly sharp for her age and had made it clear that she greatly disliked my drinking. Self-loathing ran through me as I took another swig, cursing what I had become as I clumsily shut the door behind me. I made my way to the bathroom, tripping over my loose shoelace. I landed on my hand and knees, throwing up in the conveniently placed toilet and grimacing at the taste. I spat into the bowl, removing the last bits of last night’s meal.
"For Faust sake, you can’t keep doing this to yourself!" a voice sighed as I grunted. My chest ached as a hoof gently rubbed my back.
"Fuck off Berry, I don't need this shit right n—" A fresh bout of vomit cut me off mid-sentence.
"Bucking hell, look at you! What happened to the human who had some damn pride about his appearance?" she spat, pacing back and forth as I gingerly wiped my chin. The smell was awful. making me crinkle my nose in disgust. "You are going to end up losing those sweet little foals if you keep pulling this, do you realize that? There is only so often I can pull strings before the higher ups get suspicious,” she sighed, hoofing me a glass of water I took it and downed the substance.
"I'm fine," I mumbled, the mare shook her head sadly as I tried to curl up into a ball.
"Thomas, please help us by helping yourself. I know you miss them, but drinking yourself to death is not going to help anypony! Especially Rarity and Sweetie Belle," she pleaded, placing a hoof on my face as a lone tear trickled down her cheek. "Look, my sister is coming over tonight to take care of the two for a couple of hours. You are to be showered, dressed and at my house tomorrow for seven on the dot. And for Celestia's sake, wear some pants this time," she sighed, nuzzling my head affectionately. "ponies do care for you, ya big lug. But you can be so stubborn sometimes!" She chuckled mirthlessly, turning and exiting the bathroom as I lay there sore and feeling sorry for myself.