Hate Is A Strong Word

by Mr Blu Shy

Chapter 2: The Hat [Edited]

Every one of the different and brightly colored ponies stood, looking at me like I had committed a murder. I shrugged and looked at the weirdo again.

‘Well? I’m talking to you, I expect you to answer.’ But she didn’t move, she just froze, like no-one had ever been mean to her or something like that. I mean, not one of them moved, they were just scared I suppose, and damn right they should be.

From behind me I heard an extremely quiet whimper, impossibly quiet, like a mouse trying to quiet. Although, I don’t know why a mouse would try to be quiet, they’re not very smart creatures, and I gathered that neither were these horses.

‘Ain't nobody talks to mah friends like that!’ one of them said quite loudly. I turned around and saw an orange one, with a Stetson, wow, such amaze. She, and I now noticed, and her friends all had stupid little tattoo’s on their butts.

‘Oh? Who asked you Breakback Mountain?’ My god, I'm getting better with my insults aren't I? I laughed and then stared at her blankly, she wasn't joking.

‘If you wanna see tomorrah, you’re gonna apologize now!’ she shouted. Let me take this spare time to describe the rest of them so I won’t have to later. There is a yellow one, a white one and a pink one, oh Christ I would not talk to her.

I laughed again and walked up to the orange horse, who I had labelled cowgirl, c’mon, I couldn't come up with anything too good. I put my face next to hers. ‘That a threat?’ I whispered. To be honest, I didn’t think I was prepared for the response, see, she pushed herself closer to me and gritted her teeth, closely followed by saying ‘Yeah. It is.’

I raised my hand to prod her, but I imagine she mistook it as she punched me with her hoof, she hoofed me? I don’t care, but she knocked me slightly, so I stole her hat.

‘So, you wanna play rough, we’ll play rough.’ Yup, I did just make another movie reference. I then proceeded to tear her hat in two and I did not expect, again, her response. She froze and stared at the shredded hat.

‘Yo, anyone else got a problem?’ I asked. The white one decided to get involved, she looked like a bit of a snotty brat to be honest, I will label her Queen snot.

‘How dare you destroy Applejack’s hat!’ she screamed. Screamed may have been somewhat of a lie, she seemed to cry it more than scream it.

‘Applejack? Wait, you guys have names? Oh damn, this is gonna be rich.’ I laughed yet again.

The purple one joined in, ‘Yes, we have names, Twilight, Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow, Fluttershy and Pinkie.’ She spoke, rather firmly.

I continued to laugh and then looked at this Applejack, who was still looking at her hat I had previously torn in half. At this point, a part of me I thought dead surfaced for a millisecond. If not for more, I saw something in her eyes, it could have been tears or something, I don’t know and I don’t really care, but I saw something.

I retraced my steps, or rather my words a few down in the conversation and I shut up. Applejack looked up and she had tears in her eyes. I felt it of the utmost importance that at this very moment I asked…

‘Are you alright?’

I didn’t know what to do, no-one I had ever spoken to or known had broken down before, no-one except… never mind, it doesn't matter.

‘What the hay is wrong with you?! You just destroyed something personal to her and now you’re Mr nice guy?’ The blue one suddenly came back to life and looked at me ferociously. I was now far from all of them. I decided to walk towards Applejack and I picked up the remains of her hat. Everyone looked pretty pissed off, so I quickly handed them over to the white one.

Applejack turned around and walked off. I immediately tried to follow her, but the blue one, which I assigned Rainbow due to obvious reasons, got in my way.

‘Don’t you think you've done enough?’ she pushed me backwards. One by one, the horses, you know I'm gonna call them ponies now. They walked off one after another. Eventually, there was only two left, the yellow one and the blue one, both Pegasus? Pegasi? I don’t care, but the pink one was going to say something, but quickly shut up.

I looked up again as Rainbow walked off. The yellow one, who I can assume is Fluttershy due to her look, tattoo and personality so far, looked at me and whimpered again.

‘What? Don’t look at me you stupid pony!’ which, again I wasn't proud of, but there you go. She whimpered once more and started crying. Then she ran off.

I felt really bad for a split second and then didn’t give a damn again. I ran after the group and Rainbow got in my way again.

‘Just go away!’ she shouted. Pinkie, I can assume the pink one, walked up to me.

‘Don’t suppose you want a tour or anything?’ She looked really sad, her mane was depleted, as I remember earlier she had a really fluffy looking main, she was verging on the look of insanity.

‘Well, I don’t even know where I am, so hell yeah.’ I might as well try to get through this pony infested life as quick as I could.

I followed her to town, she showed me around pretty much quite a lot of it. There was a library, a few stalls that I had seen earlier and I could see a farm in the distance. I decided to ask Pinkie a question.

‘Does anyone you know hate you?’ I asked, comparing the question to the majority of my life.

‘Hate is a strong word... Hey, I don’t even know your name!’ she screamed. Well, there was no way I was going to tell her my real name.

‘I’m not telling you my name Pinkie, just call me…’ Hmmh, no here we go, lemme think of a pony related pun. Well, screw it, I can’t think of a good one. No wait, maybe hoof something or other. Like… Hoof Wing? Well, I thought that was pathetic, but what I said next, I said with a deep regret. ‘Just call me Jack.’

‘Okay, but I know that’s not your name, so it’s gonna bug me, and did you just take that from Applejack?’ she asked. Actually, I did, I couldn't process a name quick enough in my head, so I copied Applejack.

Anyway, I shrugged and we continued on our way. I asked several times if we could go somewhere with less ponies, they are all annoying. Pinkie was talking about some random stuff I didn’t really care for, and eventually I just told her to shut her God damn trap. She frowned, lowered her ears and stopped talking.

‘Oh my god, you actually shut up, thanks.’ Before I could do anything else, some other stupid pony apparently could not see where she was looking. I have assumed by now that apart from Red, there were no other boys in this world. Great, a world full of weirdo's.

Anyhow, this pony was a rather dull grey Pegasus. Oh my god, her eyes, they’re screwed. She stumbled a bit and smiled, a bit like something from a kids cartoon.

‘Hi there, I’m Derpy.’ She spoke excitedly.

I laughed hard, ‘Derpy? Hahaha, you’re such a stupid looking pony, you’re eyes are screwed, you know that?’ Every time I insult someone in this world, a part of me seems to die, but yeah, screw it.

Derpy slumped on the ground and burst into tears. From behind her, a smaller pony emerged, a sister maybe?

‘Mommy?’

Okay, a daughter… Yeah, that’s not funny anymore. I swallowed and ran off in the opposite direction. Pinkie sighed and watched as I just left the scene.

After what seemed like three hundred million years, I found myself walking past a cottage. There were loads of animals and I could hear singing from inside. It seemed to be attached to some sort of giant tree too.

I walked up the gravel path, which I had noticed hurt my feet, and I also noticed that my shoes were no longer on my feet. I continued nevertheless, towards the front door, which was painted a dull pink color. I knocked. I don’t know why I did that, I mean, what would I even do, just take the mess out of more hideous ponies?

Well, it just so happened that when the door opened, the song ended and a feeling of dread landed on my shoulders, for it was Fluttershy who resided here.

She stared at me for about twelve seconds completely frozen and then slammed the door shut and screamed, in a puny voice, for me to go away.

‘Fluttershy, I need to talk to you, now open the door you pathetic excuse for a pony.’ God, did I really need to say that?

All I heard was crying sounds and then it struck me that the only way I was getting in was if I was going to apologize. What a disgusting word. Besides, it’s probably too late to apola… NOPE!

‘Fluttershy… I… I’m sorry.’

She silenced and the door creaked open about an inch, ‘What?’

Comments

[TheDarkprince600]

So, you realized hate is a strong word...
wonderful, truly wonderful.

[Jojo Salatcia]

lesbian

Breakback Mountain

Layin' on real thick with the gay jokes, aren't ya?

My god, I'm getting better with my insults aren’t I?

No, not really, no.

[Mr Blu Shy]

3980680 well, sorry i tried then, i am only 16, and i have some problems with literature, you would possibly be willing to go over it for me and edit some parts to make it better?

[Brimstonne]

3981739 I am 15, and you sir, are an absolute disgrace to us. People like you, are why we get such a horrible, bleeding, troglodyte reputation.

[Mr Blu Shy]

3984479 well then... brb, just gonna kill myself
[ps; im a suicidal person, not a joke] please dont call me a disgrace as it doesnt help my self-esteem or conditon. thank you for being a nob.

[PrussiAntique]

3981739 Had I the time, I would probably say yes. However, I've not merely work but essays to write for my university courses, so unfortunately I can't take you up on that.

I would recommend perhaps 4 ways to improve your writing (and these are by no means the only way to do it):

Firstly, be extremely careful when reading afterwards for more technical mistakes (spelling, punctuation, grammar, etc.). These tend to be the things that annoy readers most often and are also the most straightforward to fix.

Secondly, read as much as you can. In this sense it's a bit like learning by example. The more you read and the more diversely you read helps you as a writer by exposing you to themes, language, vocabulary, styles, plots and ways of thinking that you might not have encountered. Consider how different authors write. Are there modes, expressions, genres that these authors use/invoke/hark back to?

If you want a good spread of how diverse literary ideas may be, go have a read of, say, Dickens, Austen, Shakespeare, Kafka, Lovecraft, Joyce, Smollett, Vonnegut, and you will see how different their respective approaches are. The kind of rich metaphors Shakespeare uses in his plays would be utterly alien in the legal satire of a Kafka comedy. Similarly, Dicken's vibrant caricatures would feature strangely if they ever appeared in Vonnegut's cynical Realism. Jane Austen's concerns about the comings and goings of country gentlemen and ladies would be impossible in the weird geometries of Lovecraft's comic horrors. Joyce's allusive and poetic language would be ridiculously ornate for a picaresque novel by Smollett.

For a writer the most basic step is understanding the how,- how does this author explore this, how does that author think about that, etc,- and becoming conscious of the way authors work their magic is one big step into developing into a mature author as it forces you to think about how you write.

Thirdly, and this is going to only be a concern if you choose to write realist fiction, just spend more time listening to how people speak and interact. Behavior and some measure of consistency helps convince your readers that the character their reading is real or at the very least grounded in reality. Things like dialect, expressions, gestures, semantics, grammar tell a lot about a character to a reader as a narrator can. You for example wouldn't even need adverbs to describe the way someone speaks as their dialogue does that all already.

I recommend reading this fic by TheVulpineHero1 (http://www.fimfiction.net/story/74427/1/three-mares-in-a-boat/three-mares-in-a-boat). Inspired by a piece of comic realist fiction from the late 1800s, but there's a lovely moment when Applejack and Rainbow Dash are arguing. Without needing to say 'Applejack said' and 'Rainbow Dash said', the strength of their dialogue, with their respective figures of speech and dialects, makes the entire scene work very, very smoothly.

Finally, spend time with people. The more time you spend, the more you become aware of the depths people have. What makes them tick, what drives them to doing things, why people are given to certain emotions at certain times. What often makes realist fiction so powerful is how real and how psychologically relatable their characters are. A reader understands both the joy and the grief of the character who develops as the story goes along. The ability to write this generally comes from experience more than just reading books, as people act as logically as they do illogically, which makes it hard for a young writer to really get a grasp on how real people would act if they were placed in a given situation.

You have to gradually improve, which comes with experience more than time. Saying that you're 16 is one defence against some of the criticism, but only so long as you're aware that it is one that will only last for a short time. For that reason I'd concentrate on improving your literary abilities rather than necessarily caring too much about some of the less constructive criticism that comes your way at this stage.

Remember: very, very few ever wrote well at the age of 16, which is why you shouldn't worry too much about how this story might be received. Don't be discouraged and keep on hammering away. Even the greatest authors have to start somewhere before they become truly great.

[PrussiAntique]

3984479 I'd probably avoid being too harsh, if I were you. Putting down someone like this does make you look more juvenile than I think you'd want to look, especially considering you're 15.