Trixie
My mother hurt me: what most would call abuse, she called 'A better alternative to school... It actually teaches ya shit.'. What most would call love, I'd call lies. She didn't love me. She didn't care when I came back from school, battered and beaten, my horn scratched and my still-blank flank beaten black and blue. They claim she did it out of love, they didn't know. The day when I was called to the head teacher's office, my eyes hopeful and wide, the deep gashes on my body seemingly trivial. That was the day when I had hope, the one day out of the few years that I believed in better, the last day where I had a place to cry.
My head teacher was an old one: her maize mane intricately streaked with grey, her sun-kissed coat patchy and wrinkled with faded golden eyes; her yellowed teeth failing to block the foul odour escaping from that mini pit of Tartarus, her coat falling out in places, leaving a trail of scratchy yellow fur in her wake with her clouded, rheumy eyes, looking and searching and never finding their target. She sat me down in one of her many antique near-braking chairs. 'Just because they're a little old doesn't mean they can't be used... Just like myself!’, her personal motto. So after I was seated in the school's very own Busby's Stoop Chair and had gotten as comfortable as I could on the brittle oak, she looked at me. Just looked. Not like she was sizing me up or anything. Just, looking... After a while she sighed deeply and passed me an old canned tomato soup receipt. I looked at her curiously, not quite understanding what to do with it. That was until I recognised my mother's hoof writing: scribbly and most likely filled with errors.
Look. I'm not gonna bother with bieng precice and whatnot. I'm taking my little brat out of your hell-whole. If you try to resist I wil have the cops come in here and brake your ass. And sue you for everything your worth and dooble. See ya in hell.
"Look, Trixie. I don't want to get into any trouble with your mother but I'm afraid I can't just let you out of the school just like: that!" She waved her hoof around to emphasise her point. "So I'm afraid your going to have to tell your mother that it simply can't be done." I promised myself everyday that I'd be strong, that no matter how beat up I was, no matter how degraded, no matter how much pain I felt I would never cry. Never. But really while similar pain and fear are technically different right? I never thought it'd ever happen, I never wanted it to happen. I cried. No, scratch that, I screamed. One thing lead to another and soon I found myself at home, if you can even call the back alley of a strip club that just has a tarp covering the front, home, with a letter, a letter of admittance. And just like that I realised that my last day of school was over.
Despite what I expected it wasn't better. No, not at all. In fact, the only reason my mother had removed me was for her own, selfish desires: to hurt me more. I became something less than dirt, something less than dust, something less than the dead. But I'm not here to talk about my mother's cruel ways. No. Now I'm going to tell you about someone special to me. Quite possibly the only pony who loved me. My sister.
Ever since I left the school, I, or my family really, became a bit of a legend. Not like 'Wow! Look at her! She's so amazing!!!' But rather more something to laugh at. Some scum of the Earth. Something not to be. So it only made perfect sense that when my sister went she was bullied. Often she'd come home bruised and battered, with deep gashes up her legs, shaking and crying. My mother didn't care, and if it weren't for me having been in that exact situation or worse, I wouldn't have either. Each day when she came back I'd pry myself from my mother, scoop her up in my arms and cradle her as if she were my child. As she grew older she grew tougher too. The vandalism would be less and less frequent until it disappeared all together. But each day, despite, she'd still come home crying, I'd still do my little routine, and one day she told me why she was crying. They hadn't stopped, she'd merely gotten faster. Fine, that's fine, isn't it?
"However," she continued, "whenever I run, I barely escape. I barely make it out. This makes them madder each day." Pausing for a breath she looked up into my eyes, they looked so round and scared... Did I ever look like that? She continued her speech, in that same innocent scared voice I was so accustomed to. "But whenever I run I feel as though I'm about to collapse: my vision gets blurry with dark spots at the edges and my fetlock feels like at any moment It's about to brake and send me tumbling down to my doom where they'll get me and hurt me and..." She was hyperventilating at this point. I could see the fear building in those too young eyes, too young to be exposed to this, too young to have this many fears, too young to let alone know what death is, but to fear it as if it's just another one of her bullies. Before I could get to her and give her as much comfort as I could, my mother stormed in and dragged me out to return me to my endless torture. But suddenly it didn't seem like much anymore.
That very next day, as fate would have it, while on her sprint home, she fell. The brats ran on her like a pack of savage and starved wolves would on a freshly killed elk carcass. One wolf had a knife and got her right in the neck. She died within the hour. Oh how I wish.
A local neighbour saw the butchery and called the police and an ambulance. They managed to get the wounded, dying elk on a stretcher and to the hospital. She survived. But the knife had damaged part of her nervous system so she would have random spasms and her hind leg, the one with the bad fetlock funnily enough, was damaged and dragged when she walked.
But since my sister was in so much intensive care and my mother couldn't even afford health insurance, the bill was too much. So my mother took the 'only logical answer' and sold one of us. Guess which one. That's right: me. I was sold off as a slave to some rich guy I've never heard of. Amazingly he was somehow worse than my mother, I'm just that lucky. But he died of lung cancer from smoking only mere weeks after my 'purchase'. But I'll tell you more about that later. This last but here is not only the last part of this section, but also my sister's life. Driven by guilt and mental-self torture she hung herself. Or so I've heard. The last time I ever saw her, I was leaving to go to the 'master's house', as I looked into those wide eyes full of every emotion imaginable, excluding joy, spirit, hope, even all her love for the world around us and herself was gone. As I stared into those pits of pain I realised that maybe she wasn't too young, but the world too old.
Almost as if Celestia herself was playing a cruel trick on me things got worse. Yep, that's right. Things somehow got worse than having your own younger sister brutally committing suicide because she failed me. So I got to the mansion where my 'owner' lived. I wasn't impressed. True it was infinitely larger and well maintained and overall better and actually had a roof; but something about it just seemed off. The whole place did. The master had a son about sixteen: a tall, lanky, shy unicorn, much unlike his father, who would stay in his room all day. But not play video games or go onto forums and hate, but just sit there. He'd just be sitting there staring out where a dead oak withered away, dead leaves in the midst of rotting, squirrels chasing each other, oblivious, around its large greying trunk. Picking up the laundry: staring. Sweeping the floor: staring. Hiding in his room to get away from the master and his sharp words and whip: staring.
The last time I saw him like that was on a cold mid-January evening: the sun was setting and casting golden lights around the large, empty room; I was sitting there on an old mahogany stool, the wood worn from age and use, sowing a patch of moth brown onto an old, beige curtain. I had finished the stitching a good time ago but something about the way this young stallion stared, so intently kept me waiting in this room. At times it seemed like he'd forget to blink, one time I swear he stopped breathing. Whatever it was that interested him I could never see it from any other windows, even while in the room it eluded me. I decided that day, that all this mystery would end. So I got up, put down my curtain and sowing materials, walked over to him and sat down. I stared forward and for a split second I saw it: just a flash of white. Then it happened again and this time I saw more: a pony, no, mare, in a white ethereal gown, with flowing, tattered lace at the ends of each layer. I was so transfixed I didn't even notice the pony talking beside me at first.
"Now you see her?" His voice was high and wispy, almost damaged sounding. "Nopony else could ever see her. Not even daddy." Hearing such a young sounding word on such a pony was unsettling to say the least. "She's always there, she would never leave me again. Sometimes she talks, but mostly we just gaze at each other. When I told daddy he got me a therapist. They didn't work either."
"Do you know who she is?" Amazingly my voice only showed a fraction of my horror, which was still a large amount.
"Huh? Oh yeah, of course? How do you expect me to forget her? A mother's not easy to forget." I gasped.
"Your, mother. How? Th-this is some k-kind of weird joke. Right, right? I mean, your mother's gone, but not, dead..." I trailed of at the end. The words 'dead' or 'death' weren't foreign in my mouth, but, just this once it felt wrong, strange, unnatural.
"That mare claims to be my mother, she may look like me in most ways. But I know. She's not my mother. Besides, why would the dead lie? What vengeance d they have to make others do for them when no harm can come to them now?" His tone turned dark. Looking at him now he seemed to be surrounded in a dark, thick aura. But yet, there was still a child-like spark in his eyes, or the way he slumped his shoulders, much like a pouting colt. "You believe me though, right? You saw her. You know that she's there. That even through death she still walks beside me. Would anypony else do that?" I didn't even have to look at his face to know he was smiling, that his eyes were gleaming, that he was both tainted and impure, but also full of child-like innocence. I couldn't be in the room any longer. Sprinting as fast as I can, I made it to the door, pushed open the large double doors and never went in again.
The master died around three weeks later from lung failure.
The young master took the old one's place: head of the house. At first it appeared as if he was impossibly worse: longer hours; less pay; more domestic abuse. But then after two eons of months he came up to me. I was in the middle of mopping up the floor, the wide, oak boards slippery with the murky water from the bucket. He wore long boots about a foot high all four plastered in thick, drippy filth. He walked right up the path I had just mopped, leaving a trail of thick, brown goo behind him, stomping out my hard efforts. He stared at me with those large, fragile, porcelainesque, muted brown eyes. He moved like a hunting snake, slowly then with lightening speed, smashing the mop out of my hooves and grabbing my face. I could feel the ancient filth being smeared over my face, I had to suppress vomiting, it proved harder than first thought. He brought his lips close to my ears and whispered,
"I'm letting you go."
"What?" I shouted, he lightly smacked my face, thought all it did was just further envelope my face in the wet muck. Shushing me he continued,
"I'm letting you go. On one condition, and I must warn you now if you fail to complete this each and every time, then I shall have Burt and Frank personally come and torture it out of you, you remember them don't you? Burt and Frank?" I nodded shuddering, Burt and Frank were pretty much the only menacing, besides the masters, ponies here: they were once frontline soldiers before Princess Celestia called a cease-fire, ever since then they've staying in this house, keeping guard. They were both tall, tall stallions, Burt being a faded crimson red and Frank a dusty corn coloured, reminding me of my old head mistress. "Well what do you say, dearie? Are you gonna or not." At the word not his hooves pushed together, pinching my face into a weird fish-like shape. His breath smelt like expired booze and old cigars.
"W-What's the condition?" The young master laughed at this, a low gritty laugh, ending in a cough.
"What do you think, Luv?" At that moment the term 'Luv' lost all affection and endearment, and became a cold, hard, insult, a threat almost. "Don't answer that, I don't expect a... Common pony like yourself to understand. What I want you to do is: all fame or riches or anything related be given/owed directly to me. I don't care how you'll get food, or how you'll survive. Follow my conditions and I won't have to. Now, whadya say?" It sounded more like a command then a question, though I felt to insignificant to point it out.
"N-" He started squeezing my neck, strangling me, I knew immediately what to do to make him stop, but some part of me wouldn't allow it, some part of me would rather be strangled to death then allow this buffoon to some in and take my earnings, and for a while I was letting that part win.
"I can't wait all day for an answer Sweetie. What. Do. You. Say." With each for he emphasised his point with an increase in pressure on my failing neck. Defeatedly I slouched down and whispered a yes.
Just two days later a coach came and picked me up. Ending one chapter of the many of my eternal torture.
I wandered streets for months, getting by one just change I found or pity donations, I at times almost missed my old life. That was until I got it. Finally, nearly a year later than average I got my Cutie-Mark: a blue, star wand with a swirl of sparkling magic. It came to me when I was feeling particularly depressed, a young colt had just walked by, clinging to his mother at the sight of me. At that moment I just wanted to know why he did that, to know what he was thinking. I focussed all my energy into it, guessing what the correct spell would be... And then I heard it, a slight voice in my head
"Why is she staring at me?" Shaking my head I stopped the spell, he looked away and ran after his mother who had walked ahead. I guess the shock of the spell had overridden the feeling and joy of getting my Mark that it was just there. I got used to it as quickly as it came, though it gave me some form of condolence, some form of normality, I still had my struggles, I still had to learn how to use my talent to my advantage.
By this point my eighth birthday had come and gone, remaining uncelebrated, with my ninth on the way. I had started a small stall in a travelling fair, in which I'd do simple magic tricks for the little ones, mainly bright coloured lights and levitating them around, much to some parent's horror. I had come as far as to create a little name for myself, a little money and even a kooky family of fair workers.
Keep in mind I was young still, I had just come out of a tough time, of course I wasn't going to think about past promises. He came a few months later, just knocked on my door then demanded everything, of course only an insolent twat like him could think to bring body-guards with him, but yet, there they were, standing there, just looking down at me with an expression that was either pity, apathy or no emotion at all.
I stood there, what could I do? I couldn't fight them, I couldn't run, I couldn't even say no. I let out a whimper. The young stallion smirked, his horn flaring, suddenly I felt my body go numb, as I lost control of everything, I tried to scream but my mouth didn't make any noise. I couldn't even blink, I had to just float there and stare as I watched him go into my draws, remove my small envelope adequately filled and walk away. The ponies left me there. Teleporting away without a trace.
I just lay there, staring vacantly as my senses and control returned. As soon as I had sufficient power over my magic I teleported away, as far as I could go. I found myself near an old shack in what looked like the Everfree Forest. There I stayed, foraging for food, practising my magic, building back my life.
Life continued as normal after that. I found out that the Fair I worked with went out of business soon after I left. So I figured I'd go back and visit my old romping ground, that's where I found my old stall, after fixing it up I finally felt ready. I started my trek to Ponyville, after that things didn't go so well. I bumped into an old acquaintance: Twilight Sparkle. Thing really went down after that. I still don't know why I went back. I had just had my flank handed to me again by that purple nightmare, even with the Amulet I still seemed inferior.
When I got back to my little shack, which over the years had been greatly improved, I noticed a little note on the wall, which read:
"You promised.'
Shivering I walked into my house, I was still slightly pumped from the Amulet and knew that against most I could win. I never expected it to be him. He was a frail old stallion now, hobbling and limping as if all those years of drinking and smoking away his depression had caught up with him.
"You promised." He croaked, soundly uncannily like his father, "You promised, and I don't like it when people don't keep a promise."
"G-Get out." The old man chuckled.
"But you promised, and I don't think you even have it in you to harm me. I'm not leaving until I have it, or you could kill me, either way is fine."
"I don't give a rat's-flank about some damn promise. So get out, or are you too deranged to remember where the door is?" Once again that sickening chuckle.
"I believe the word is senile, but of course you never were properly educated were you?" He smiled, it was the perfect mix of rictus and grimacing. He had turned out exactly like his father: always being able to chill me to the bone.
"P-Please, ju-just get out of here..." He slowly limped closer towards me.
"But dearie, you promised." His last word echoed in my mind. Promised, promised, promised.
A boom was heard all the way throughout the Everfree forest.
As I stared at the little pile of ashes in the centre of my shack, the dark stain tracing the edge of the heap, a little sweet, melancholy tune started to dance through the wind...
Oh the mare with her pain, and the sire wanting gain,
Promises were said, promises left dead,
Oh the mare with her pain, and the sire wanting gain,
Ashes in the wind, sanity's been thinned,
Oh the mare with her pain, and the sire wanting gain,
Joy is put on hold, stories will unfold
On top of this I felt my spirit lift, I walked outside, looking up to the cloudy evening sky, opened my mouth and let loose...
"Have you come to then end of my walkway?
Have you seen as the life fades to grey?
As my time ticks low,
Its flaws will show,
And it seems that everyone has lied, Oh,
No one cried when I cried,
Not a single shed a tear as I tried,
Scorn full of snide,
Chide after chide,
But still no tears were shed when I cried,
But still no tears were shed when I cried,
But still no one has cried when I cried...
Please note this was written over a long period of time spread out over months so style will have changed and also the tone. If anyone wants to hear the tune to the song then just tell me and I'll see if I can find a way to send it to you, it is real.
Hey guys, if you liked this then please like favourite and comment if you want to about what you liked about it so that I can use it more, however if you din't like it then feel free to down-vote but please explain why so that I may improve. If you have any ideas for other characters I could do it on then please tell me so, I have some others lined up. Thank you!
Caninelupis.
Stats
Page generated in 0.017 seconds
Total duration
769 users online
1,485,600 hits today, 1,943,222 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Wow... just wow. Anyone who downvotes must not like stories when Trixie is going through rough times. I love this story so much and it deserves a favorite and like from me. I don't favorite stories very often, but this... I have no words to describe how wonderful this is. You have some real talent sir/madam, and it's authors like you that inspire me to be better. I know you probably wanted some type of constructive criticism, because as an author, I myself want people to tell me what's wrong with my work too. But I got so into the story, I couldn't even think about that stuff. My brain was too busy picturing how this all went and I'm afraid if I go back and read it, I will only get lost in it. This looks like hours and days of hard work and I love it. I enjoyed this story and I hope to see more from you.
5030733
I did spend quite a while and probably have irritated the fans of When Rainbows Cry, by spending so much time on this. Either way it is great that you loved it so. I shall continue working on this and my other story and sometime, hopefully soon, I will update them both and be the writer I want to be: One who actually updates her stories. 
5030624
Thank you so much!
5040442 Yeah I know how it feels to be the one everyone is waiting for. But you get used to it I guess. And again, great story.
5040464 Danke. I was looking at the stories you write and I was wondering, there's this story I think you would love, you've probably heard of it but it's called 'Fallout: Equestria, Project Horizons' It's a branch off of the story Fallout: Equestria, in which the inspiration should be quit obvious. It's originally on google docs and whenever it get updated EQD does a post on it so look there if you're interested.
5044948 Well, I have to read Fallout: Equestria first. I have heard of it since I've been a brony 1 year ago, but I never got to reading it. Thanks for recommending the story though! I'll be sure to check it out when I can.
Also, you see a story you like in there? I always love to hear other's opinions.
5047003 I haven't read the first one, just skipped to the other. Of course there's probably a lot I'm missing out on, but it also keeps the mystery of the memory orbs. If you read the first one then you'd know what this is, who this is, why this is happening. But if you don't then you get a closer connection to the characters, to the plot, and frankly I like that more. I started reading it sometime in April/May I think and am only on volume 2, at that point I was only a brony (pegasister) for about 8 months max.
The story that I liked the most was 'Friends Forever', I agree a lot with the comments on there only I think you need to give some sort of idea on what is happening at that moment, are they depressed? Are they going abut their lives normally? What is currently happening in Equestria? I felt slightly like I was in a place without any grounding, that may have been what you were going for, and if it was then you need to give it some backing otherwise your empathy for the characters may be lessened or lost.
Just some ideas, but great story, maybe you could even make some side stories on it, go through what happened to them through their POV.
5063157 Yeah, I might. I just put one of my theories in story form. I know since one of the story writers said that Twilight won't outlive her friends, people have had Twilight die in their stories or the mane six become alicorns, but I haven't seen my theory anywhere. So I figured I'd make something different.
If you really want to know, it was 100 years after they defeated Nightmare moon (As the story said) and the castle and Ponyville is all the same. Just new ponies going around. They do have a bit more and better technology and yes, the mane six are depressed, but they still try to move on and live a normal life. In Equestria, the enemies don't really appear that much, and if they do, Twilight and friends can beat them really easily. Too easily. There's not much that's different in equestria at that time except for one thing: the ponies are getting dumber and crazier (Like what's happening in our world right now), and more violent. That's about it. I hope that helps you and thanks for reading my story!
5063375 Well it was a good idea to do so. K thanks, but one final question: if it was a hundred years, assuming that ponies live to their normal age of 30, how are Rainbow's and Soarin's kid only going to die in 5 years, wouldn't it make more sense to say they live longer and have it be their grandchildren? Just a thought, and really it might not make much sense as I didn't get much sleep and it's currently 11 PM over here and I spent all of today working on a science project. Do you have any questions about NOCWIC?
5065240 Well, I figured ponies would live longer in Equestria than on earth because of all of the magic. I figured they'd live like 50-55ish years instead of 30 years. Because... y'know... magic.
Um, no.I don't have any questions. But that might be because I have so much on my mind. It's like this: I got friend zoned by my crush and found out she likes someone else, so I feel horrible. On the other hand, a cute boy wants to go out with me. I seriously don't know what to do and so as a result, my comments look dumb. I shouldn't even be telling you about this, you probably don't wanna know about my problems. I'll um... be quiet now.
5065296 Oh, Ok.
I'm no expert in love, in fact I've never felt it before (unless you count my cats), but I think you should be supportive of your crush and let her be happy, if things don't work out with those two then be there to support her through it, then you can tell her your feelings, as, if you truly love her then you'd want her to be happy. If you like the boy and want to date with him then yes, go out with him, I don't know your life and I don't know your style but I don't think you should date him if the only reason is he's cute. Your comment doesn't look dumb at all, you should see the chats my friends have if you want to see dumb.
You can tell me anything you want to, I like to think that I help my friends and that's now what I consider you. If you have any other problems or just want someone to chat with you can talk to me.
Did this help at all, or am I making too big a deal out of it?
5068038 Yeah, that's what I was planning to do. I was gonna tell her how I felt and then help her out with her crush. The cute boy, however, is one of my best friends and he's a gentleman too! Who wouldn't want that in a man?
Also, thanks! You'll be the first one I come to if you really don't mind. And you really help me confirm what I was going to do and you're not making too big of a deal out of it.If anything, judging by the state of my room (Pillows thrown around and a few things broken. A few tear stains on the pillow beside me), I was making too big of a deal out of it. I thought of it as only a crush, but I feel as if it might be something like love. I'm not sure. I do know that if it is, it's one hell of a crush. Thanks for the advice, you're awesome!
5068417 Well That's great that you've decided and I hope you feel better. True, True.
Oh not at all, feel free to comment/message me whenever you want to, sometimes writing things to people is easier than having to say it, as if you're just thinking it normally and not telling people, that's how I told my friends I was depressed.
Nonsense! I'm sure if I was in your position the whole of England would know (I can scream and shout incredibly loudly and when I'm mad/sad I get weirdly powerful). No problem, anytime.
encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcR2E89H3iJ2HHTQJ94esbcDoX17qkUdjHcXuAnzfvlG5T_jGIrDsg
geekfill.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/who-is-awesome.jpg
Quick question: What other fandoms are you in, if any?
5068669 Aww, thanks! Hey, you're awesome too, y'know that?
Other fandoms... Well, I'm into Mario, Sonic, just began doing the Kirby stuff and then there's umm... well... I'm not sure how many Yaoi fans are out there, but there's Junjo Ramantica and lastly RWBY.
5068700 i.chzbgr.com/maxW500/7422318080/h60F45CC6/
or i.chzbgr.com/maxW500/1435606784/h7C439956/
I like gaming though sadly I am complete and utter hopeless at it. I was interested in watching RWBY but never got around to it with everything else going on, my end of years were going on at that point so... Do you know the anime/manga 'Hetalia'? I've done a blog post on it, and for once they have a ship that people agree with that's actually cannon (LudwigXFeliciano). It's freaking adorable and has so many analogies you can relate to in real life. Every episode is around 5 min long so if you end up hating it then it's not that long of your life wasted, assuming you do try it. You'd be surprised how many yaoi fans I know...
This story is amazing! I found no errors in any way and the story line is great. I friend so much.