“What a stupid cutie mark!”
“Heh, yeah! A rainy cloud? What are you supposed to do, make it rain on everypony?”
“You just wanna make the weather as dark and ugly as you!”
“Better being a blank-flank than having that stupid thing!”
That's how it had all started. In essence, that was the moment that put Stormy Knight in the corner, where he'd been sitting for who knows how long (he hadn't quite learned how to keep time yet). He'd had nothing else to do but to think back on this moment; Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon had been particularly mean to him, but that was nothing new. They'd been picking on him long before today, just because they'd had their cutie marks (what were they for, anyway, being rich or something?) and Stormy hadn't. Just last week, he'd finally gotten his mark, a gray rain cloud spewing showers, and he finally felt like things would change.
They didn't. They just got worse.
“Leave me alone.”
“Aww, what's the matter, Stormy! You all huffy 'cause your cutie mark is lamer than you?”
“I said leave me alone.”
“Good one, Diamond Tiara! And look at those tiny wings! You can't even make a breeze, much less a storm cloud!”
“SHUT UP!!”
Well, in Miss Cheerilee's class, “shut up” is considered a bad thing to say, so Stormy Knight was sent to the corner for time-out. Just like today. He couldn't figure out how those two bullies kept getting away with being such brats and being mean to everypony in class, cutie mark or no, while he was the one sitting in the corner just for defending himself. They seemed to find particular pleasure in making fun of Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom too, just because they were still blank-flanks. Sitting in the corner at least gave Stormy a chance to think more about these things—why was a cutie mark so important? What did it matter which colts and fillies had them and which ones didn't? Was he, Stormy, any different now that he had his mark? Did he think he was above anypony now that he had it? Did he ever feel beneath anypony when he didn't have it? And most importantly, did he have to be just like Diamond Tiara, and bully all of the blank-flanks in school just because he wasn't one of them anymore?
Of course, he didn't need to bully to get in trouble. All he'd had to do was lash out at the real bullies.
And pretty much everypony else.
“I don't even understand what that mark is for. Why a raincloud?”
“Who asked you?! Just leave me alone!”
“Hey! Y'all be nice! Nopony's attackin' you!”
“Who cares! I didn't ask you to stare at me like some kinda freak! Leave my cutie mark alone!”
“Well, if you just explained what you did to get it, we'd understand.”
“No you wouldn't! My cutie mark doesn't mean diddly! I should have just stayed a stupid little blank-flank!”
“Hey! We're blank-flanks, and we're not stupid!”
“So what?! You have a chance to get better cutie marks than mine! I was just a stupid little blank-flank colt before, and now I'm a stupid little colt with a stupid little cutie mark!”
That was the next day, after his first stint in the corner. “Stupid” isn't a very nice word either, so Miss Cheerilee had put him back in the corner that day, too. This time, though, his behavior against the “Cutie Mark Cavaliers” or whatever they called themselves, had been on him, and nopony else. It just gave him more time to think, and he'd come to a much quicker, more lucid conclusion: he wasn't worth it.
Being a blank-flank meant being picked on, and now that he had his cutie mark, he was picked on even more. So, it didn't matter whether he had a cutie mark or not; he was still being bullied, and that meant that it was he, Stormy Knight, a short, scrawny Pegasus colt with dark-blue fur and a black mane, that was the reason for it, not something stupid (for lack of a nicer word) like a raincloud-shaped cutie mark. He was the lame little colt who was mean to everyone, so he deserved to get bullied. It wasn't his cutie mark (or lack of one) that mattered. He was lame and stupid (again, not nice, but appropriate) and deserving of bullying. Not his mark.
And today, his third trip to the corner this week, he was more deserving than ever.
“You know, maybe if you were nicer, the other colts and fillies wouldn't be so mean to you.”
“Why should I be? Nopony's ever nice to me!”
“You have plenty of ponies who are nice to you. You just don't let them.”
“If they were really nice, they'd have been nice before! Now, I'm just a freak with a stu—a silly cutie mark!”
“You can't believe everything you hear, you know. You're way too sensitive.”
“I am not!!”
“Yeah, you are! You got mad just 'cause I called you sensitive.”
“Well, who asked you?! You don't know anything! You just wanna laugh at me like everypony else!”
“I do not! But if I did, you'd deserve it for being so mean!”
“LEAVE ME ALONE!!”
He'd pushed her down. She'd started crying. And once again, Stormy went back to the corner, while Miss Cheerilee had contacted Stormy's mom, Cloudy Knight. She was on her way to school now to pick up her son, and Stormy was to sit in the corner the whole time until she got there.
Now, it was over. There was no way back. The whole school thought Stormy was just a mean kid who wasn't worth talking to. Miss Cheerilee thought he was just a problem colt with a bad attitude. And when Mom got him home today, Stormy would probably get spanked or grounded, or something else that only happened to bad colts.
Because that's what he was. A bad colt. He was bad before getting his cutie mark. His cutie mark made him even more bad. Just talking to his classmates brought out the “bad” in him. He couldn't open his mouth without being mean. He didn't understand why or how. He just couldn't help it. He was always angry, always snapping at other ponies, always trying to hide how he really felt, because he didn't feel like he was good enough to talk about his feelings. Only good colts and fillies got to talk about their feelings without being laughed at or having ponies groan in annoyance or roll their eyes and turn away. Stormy Knight was just a bad colt who deserved to get bullied, and teased, and grounded, and whatever else happened. And now, he'd pushed down that little pink Pegasus filly with the blonde mane, who was only trying to help. After this, nopony would ever see him as anything else.
Was he a bad colt because he was treated like one, or was he treated like one because he was one?
There's only so many questions (and only so much crying) one bad little colt can handle while sitting in the corner. And judging from the opening of the door, it would have to be cut short. Mom was here to take Stormy home, to be punished.
For being a bad colt.
“You know why you're in trouble, don't you, young stallion?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“You've been saying naughty things at school, you've screamed and thrown fits, you even hurt a little filly! What have I told you about being nice to fillies?”
“It's not nice to hit a filly, I know.”
“And Miss Cheerilee told me that she's had to put you in the corner three times this week! Three times! Once, I can understand, but this is getting out of hoof! She doesn't know what else to do with you anymore!”
“I know, Mom.”
“You should also know better than to throw fits at school!”
“I know.”
“Stop looking at the floor. Look at me when I'm talking to you, young stallion!”
“I'm sorry, Mommy . . .”
“. . . . Honey, are you crying?”
“No!”
“Stormy, honey, if there's something wrong, please tell me. This isn't like you at all. You're a good colt, I know you are. But this is not how a good colt acts, and you know it. Please tell me what's wrong.”
“. . . . Nothing. I'm fine . . .”
“Are you sure?”
“I'm fine, Mom! Really! There's nothing wrong!”
“Stormy, remember what I said about throwing fits . . .”
“Sorry, Mom . . .”
“. . . . Well, when you're ready to tell me what's happening, I'll be ready to listen. But you know you're still in trouble for acting out in school. You need to learn to be nicer to ponies who are trying to help you, or else nopony will want to help you. Now, I want you to apologize to that little filly on Monday when you go back to school. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“And Miss Cheerilee will let me know, so I'll know if you actually did. And if you didn't, or if you lie, you're in the hot seat, mister. Understand?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Good. Now, you're grounded all this weekend. I expect you to get started on your chores early tomorrow morning, and no playtime until you do them all. Now go on up to your room and wait for supper.”
“All right . . . . I'm s-sorry, Mommy . . . .”
Stormy Knight thought back to that afternoon as he walked into the school building on Monday. Being grounded for the weekend wasn't so bad, I guess, he thought to himself. At least I didn't get a spanking.
The first class of the day started, and both desks on either side of Stormy were empty. All the colts and fillies helped move the desks for story time, and when they all sat in a circle, Stormy sat alone, outside the circle, because nopony wanted to sit with him. The class went outside for snack time, and Stormy sat at one of the picnic tables by himself. As he looked over at the table next to his, he saw two colts and two fillies sitting together, talking and laughing and sharing each other's snacks. He knew he had to at least try, so he held up a hoof, waved, and said, “Hi!” with a bright smile.
All four foals got up from the table and moved farther away.
Stormy saw it coming. Mom may have said that he had to try being nicer more often, but that made no difference anymore. He'd been an angry jerk for too long, and now nopony wanted to see anything other than that when they saw him. He'd made his bed, and now he was going to sit in it. Alone.
Like any other bad colt.
Recess came after snack time, but Stormy didn't want to play. He knew none of the other colts or fillies would want to play with him, anyway. Heaving a deep sigh, he trudged over to a tree and sat down with his back against the bark. He figured he might as well start getting used to it. He didn't like it, and it hurt him badly to have to be alone, but he knew it was what he deserved. He'd had his chance to be nice, and he blew it. So, while it was playtime for good colts and fillies, it was tree time for him. In essence, time-out hadn't changed much—the only differences now was that it was self-imposed, and it was the tree instead of the corner.
It didn't stop him from crying, though. Tears never changed.
“Um . . . hi.”
Stormy turned toward a voice, and saw the same pink Pegasus filly he'd hurt three days ago. “Huh? Wha— . . . i-it's you . . .”
“Yeah. I guess you remember me, huh?" she asked gently. "I'm Sunny Skies. You pushed me down last week.”
“Yeah . . . s-so?” Stormy tried to sound tough, despite sniffing a bit from his crying.
“Your eyes are all puffy," Sunny pointed out, still maintaining calm, "you were crying just now, huh?”
“I'm not c-crying! Why does everypony s-say that . . . ?”
“Take it easy," she said, trying to quell his temper, "I just wanted to see if you were okay.”
“I'm fine . . . s-so you can go ahead and laugh at me now . . . ." Stormy bit back, trying with all his might to keep the tears from returning.
“Why would I wanna laugh at you?”
“'Cause I got in trouble last week for p-pushing you," Stormy explained, his emotional dam slowly breaking down. "I got p-put in the corner again. M-my mom yelled at me. And now the whole class h-hates me.”
“I don't hate you,” Sunny said simply.
“'Course you do. I was mean to you, too. I hurt you. Why wouldn't you hate me?”
“Well . . ." she hesitated, as if what she would say would be difficult for Stormy to handle. ". . . . 'cause I think you're just sad, that's all.”
At this, Stormy's temper flared, and old instincts came back in full-force. “I told you, I'm not crying!”
“Calm down," Sunny tried to assuage him again. Stormy noticed, and found that she was fairly good at it. "I didn't say 'crying', I said 'sad'," she continued, "you know, 'cause of your cutie mark, and Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon always picking on you, and you always being in time-out. I think you just act mean 'cause you don't want anypony to know that.”
“. . . . . Why do you think that? Nopony cares how I feel . . .”
“That's not true. I care.”
“Why would you care? I pushed you, remember? I'm just . . . . . just a bad colt.”
Sunny slowly walked closer to Stormy and sat next to him. She gently laid a hoof on his shoulder, and Stormy felt himself wanting to pull away at first. But once her hoof touched him, he felt warm and fuzzy inside, and didn't want her hoof to leave him.
“I don't think you're a bad colt," she replied, her voice still soothing, and slowly having an effect on Stormy. "'Cause if you were, you would have stopped listening to me. You wouldn't care. But you're still here. You wanna talk to me, don't you?” She ended with a look of compassion on her face—the same look his mom would have whenever Stormy got sick or scraped up his knee—and she smiled.
Stormy just stared at Sunny Skies, trying hard to keep the tears from welling up. He was being stubborn again. He was being mean again. He was lashing out and trying to get her to leave. But one thing that was stronger than his attempt to keep from crying, was the simple fact that she was right. He'd needed somepony to talk to. He had no friends, he was afraid Miss Cheerilee was disappointed in him, and he was afraid his mom wouldn't understand. The only reason he didn't try to hurt her again was because he knew perfectly well she would leave if he did. He didn't want that. He wanted her to stay. He needed her to stay.
He felt the tears continue to swell in his eyes, and finally, he released them. One tear from each eye seemed to open the flood gates, and a slow stream of tears descended his face.
“Y-you're s-so nice,” Stormy said between sobs, “I . . . y-you don't have to be s-so nice to me . . .”
“Why not?” Sunny asked, confused. “I wanna be nice to you. Everypony needs somepony to be nice to them every now and then.”
“N-not me . . . I'm . . . I'm just a bad colt . . .”
Stormy couldn't take it anymore. He broke down and cried, releasing deep, painful sounds that hurt his chest and stomach just by being made. He slumped over and threw his front hooves over his eyes, wiping away the increasing torrent of tears as quickly as they came. It was all out, now. As if being the school's naughty colt wasn't enough, now he was the wimpiest colt, as well. That just made him cry hard enough to give himself a dull headache, which added to his frustration more. The cycle felt more and more painful, and all he could do in response was sit there and cry. The pain allowed nothing else.
Stormy jumped when he felt something strange, a feeling he thought only his mother could give him. He felt Sunny wrap her forelegs around him and pull him in close for a hug, and all at once, he stopped crying. Remnants of tears still slipped down the trails of moisture on his face, but soon followed suit and stopped flowing. Stormy found himself growing very red-faced and weak in the legs; he felt lucky to be sitting, as he likely would have fallen down otherwise. He was so stunned, he couldn't be shaken out of the speechlessness brought on by his misery—he remained silent.
“You're not a bad colt, Stormy,” Sunny repeated, gently patting his back, “you may be naughty every now and then, but it doesn't make you bad. If you had friends, I'm sure it would help make you nicer.” She released him and looked him deep in his brown eyes. “I can be your friend, if you want.”
Once again, Stormy was overwhelmed by emotion. This time, though, it didn't hurt. There wasn't that same pain in his stomach that his mom usually had to give him tummyache medicine for. There wasn't that feeling in his chest that, since Stormy had heard grownups talk about it, he thought must be “heartbreak”. There wasn't that really bad headache he usually only got after coming out of a really long movie at the theaters. But he did still want to cry.
This time, it was his turn to hug, and he threw his forelegs around Sunny Skies, pulling her in close and restarting his sobbing. Sunny easily hugged him back, and Stormy's tears of joy continued. The filly he'd bullied thought he was good enough to talk to, and she tried to make him feel better. This made Stormy happier than he'd ever imagined. Not only did he finally make a friend, but he'd confirmed for himself something he'd been afraid to find out all this time. He really was worth it. He really could be nice and make friends.
He wasn't a bad colt after all.
Stormy Knight and his new friend, Sunny Skies, walked away from the tree, side-by-side, to finish recess together.
“Um . . . Sunny?”
“Yeah?”
“I . . . . I was gonna say this 'cause my mom wanted me to . . . but now, I think I want to. I'm . . . I'm sorry I pushed you. I didn't mean to be so mean. Can . . . can you forgive me?”
“Aww, Stormy! We're friends now. Of course I can forgive you!”
“Thank you . . . . mmm . . . I've never hugged anypony except my mom before . . . . it feels good.”
“Yeah. I'm glad you feel better, Stormy.”
“Isn't that cute? Stormy found somepony to feel sorry for him!”
“Oh, no . . . not you two again . . .”
“Hey, Sunny! Needed somepony to rain on your parade?”
“You leave him alone, Diamond Tiara, or I'll tell! I mean it!”
“Oh, please! Like I'm afraid of what a silly blank-flank and a troublemaker with a lame cutie mark are gonna do! Besides, Miss Cheerilee doesn't care what we say! She'll ignore you and put 'Sulky Knight' back in the time-out corner where he belongs! If Miss Cheerilee could help you, you wouldn't be nearly as lame as you are, but she's just . . . . just . . . uh-oh.”
“No, go on, Diamond Tiara. I'd love to hear what you really think of me.”
Diamond Tiara reflected on this last exchange as she and Silver Spoon each sat in a corner, serving time-out.