//------------------------------// // The Pit of Poverty // Story: The Story of a Powerful Thief // by TaylorTheFailure //------------------------------// So there we were, in an alley somewhere in town. We didn't get to keep anything. Mom told us that the people who took our house, also took our stuff as payment. I was sad and scared, but not alone. I still had my awesome brother and my lovely mom. When we first arrived at our new "home," nopony said anything. We were, and still are overwhelmed by losing almost everything we've ever known. We'd been here for a few hours and realized that we couldn't just sit in this backstreet and sulk. Rider and I decided that we could try to build some kind of fort or house with cardboard boxes we could find. We ventured around the town, looking for any box that could help our cause. It was actually pretty fun! We eventually acquired a couple boxes, and even a lightly used sheet that we could sleep under. We took the materials and brought them back to our alley, where Mom still sat against one of the buildings. She looked like she was stuck in time. She didn't move or even acknowledge us when we came back. She just sat there, staring at the wall opposite of her, without blinking or anything. I'm worried about her. She looks even worse than when Dad left. I thought about going to talk to her, but I knew that she probably needed some time to process everything. Instead, Rider and I started to arrange the boxes we found. We had seven, each ranging in size. Most of them were about the size of our dishwasher at home, but we had two humongous ones that looked like they were used to carry pianos or something. We took some of the medium ones and put holes in their side so that we could put them together. Eventually, we had a small, but cozy "house" for Rider and I. Then, we needed to make Mom's. I peeked over at her, but she was still just emotionlessly staring at the wall. I have no clue what she could be thinking about! Rider and I used the remaining medium boxes and the two large ones to makeshift her a house. We both knew that Mom was struggling, so we agreed to make hers the biggest. After we had finally done it, Rider and I stood proud, admiring our work. I could feel a drop of sweat come down my forehead as I began to turn to Mom. She still hadn't moved from her sitting position, and her eyes were still locked on the wall in front of her. "Mom?" I asked, with obvious worry in my voice. Mom quickly turned her head towards us and was about to say something, but she quickly stopped when her gaze found the makeshift houses. Her jaw dropped, which caused Rider and I to giggle in excitement. "I think she likes it!" I whispered to Rider. "She sure does!" he whispered in agreement. Mom slowly got up with her eyes still hooked on the "houses". She made her way to the "homes" and admired each one of their sides. Then, she turned back to us. Her eyes began to water as she exclaimed, "You are the best colts a Mom could ever ask for!" She wrapped her hooves around us and gave us a nuzzle and hug. At that point, I knew that we would be okay. The hug only lasted a couple seconds, as the rumbling of a stomach interrupted the warm moment. "Sorry" said Rider with embarrassment on his face. I couldn't really blame him though, we hadn't eaten for quite some time. Plus, I was starting to get hungry myself. Since we didn't have any money, Rider and I decided to scavenge around our new "home" for anything that was possibly edible. There was a trash can at the far end of the alley, which we decided to check out first. The rusty old can was too tall for us to see into on our own, so I stood as a pedestal for Rider to get on. He stepped up, took the lid off the trash can and peered inside. "Oooh" he murmured with excitement. He reached in and grabbed something, but I couldn't see what. He stepped off my back and showed me what he had acquired. "A donut?" I questioned. "A pink frosted donut" he corrected. I took a closer look at it and was disgusted to see what covered its bottom. I pointed at it and exclaimed, "there's mold under it!" Rider took the donut and turned it over, revealing the disgusting green-spored fungus that grew on the delicious treat. "I mean, it's still a donut" he said, before attempting to take a bite. "STOP!" I screamed, halting him from putting that disgusting thing closer to his mouth. "There has to be something else" I continued. Rider took a quick glance from me, to the donut, to his gut, and then back to me. He paused for a minute before responding. "Fine" he finally said with a deep sigh. We decided to go searching for food. But each time, we were disappointed. There was either nothing, or something that had a disease-ridden mold on it. Eventually we gave up searching, but we didn't give up trying. With no other plausible options, and our stomachs growing hungrier and hungrier by the hour, we realized that there was only one remaining option: begging. We sat near the edge of our alley, where most ponies walked, and asked strangers for any bits that they could spare. I was completely ashamed and embarrassed at my own helplessness. And I felt even worse, as each pony that passed by, glanced at us from a distance, before turning away to look in the opposite direction when they got closer, as if we were some kind of pungent odor. We sat there until sundown, bitless and hungry. Not a single pony even had the guts to look my brother or I in the eye, as if they were superior, or we were too inferior for even that level of respect. The very thought of this infuriated me more and more. Eventually, Rider and I gave up, with the night sky hovering above us. We headed back to our new "homes." Mom was already fast asleep in her bigger cardboard fortress. Rider, exhausted from the day's work, didn't take too much time to also fall into a deep slumber. But, I, I didn't get that luxury. I was still wide awake, thinking about the disrespectful faces of all those ponies who walked by us, ignored us, left us for dead, and didn't even show the decency to look in our general direction, because we were the stain on this perfect little village! Every moment that passed, spent thinking about each "encounter" we had, bloomed my embarrassment into frustration, then my frustration to anger, and my anger into a rage that swelled up my eyes. I only went to bed a couple hours later, when I was emotionally drained and could no longer become any angrier, not at my situation or my family, but the ponies who I grew up around that now couldn't even give me the satisfaction of eye contact, and especially the very stallion that left us to shrivel up and die!