Here I Am

by memphisgurl

Prologue

Author's Note:

Yes, the chapters are in the correct order. There's a reason I put the "Prologue" last. I'm not going to tell you what it is though.

My name is Applejack. It used to be Little Apple, but now it's Applejack. Papa says I'm too big to be Little Apple now. I live in a little house that's always dark inside because light hurts Mother's eyes. Mother has sick eyes. Mother is sick all over. She's always been sick, she says, but it was me that brought it out, it was me that unleashed it. She says she put all of her health into making me, and the sickness took her when all her strength left.

I take care of Mother. I give her her medicine when she's too achy to get out of bed and I make her the foul smelling food she says will fix her up every morning. I sweep the floors and pretend to kill the mice that Mother hates so. There's a field behind our house, and there are so many mice there. I don't kill the ones that wander into the house, the ones that make Mother scream at me to kill the filthy, filthy vermin. She thinks they're rats, but I know they're not. Rats are mean, these are gentle and soft. No, these are mice, so I take them to the field and kiss them goodbye, don't come back or Mother will cause you trouble.

I take care of Mother, but when she falls asleep, when I see the drool dripping from her lower lip and she stops barking at me, I sneak outside to Papa. I like to work with Papa. He bucks apples off of the trees next to the field when he's home, but he's gone most of the day. Gone to keep us living he says when I ask him why he can't stay with me.

"Papa?" I ask as I sit under a tree and Papa bucks his apples.

"Yes, my bunny?" he says in his deep, comforting voice that I fall asleep to every night as he rocks me in his lap and I look into those bright eyes that I love just as much as his voice.

"Why does Mother never come outside?"

Papa stops his bucking for a moment and looks at me, but then he begins his loud noises again. "Your mother is sick, sweet Applejack. She is too weak to come outside. Her eyes are sensitive to the light and her achy limbs are too weak to carry her."

I scrunch up my face and try to understand. "But doesn't she want to smell the flowers, or the field, or the earth when the rain comes down and makes it new?"

"She has forgotten those things, Applejack. She has forgotten the birds and the sky. She has even forgotten the earth when the rain makes it new. She has been sick so long. I'm not sure she ever knew of those things in the first place."

I don't understand what he means by she never knew those things, but I keep my mouth shut. Instead I listen to the birds and imagine what they're saying. One is speaking of her little chicks and how they are silly because they are always hungry. But she doesn't scold them. A mother bird never scolds her chicks. No, she raises her wings and swoops to the ground, searching for the food that will feed her little ones.

"Papa," I say just as a crack splits the air and the apples drop off the trees. "Papa," I try again.

He turns his bright eyes on me and I hear his lovely deep voice again. "What is it, my chick?" he asks as if he knows what I was just thinking.

"The birds all look the same. Why do they look the same? Mrs. Millie across the street says I look just like Mother. Do I look like Mother?"

"Sweet sugar plum, you do resemble your mother. Your skin is soft like hers was on our wedding day, and your frame is so petite and small, like her."

I sit in silence listening to the birds for another minute, and then I speak again. "But I am not Mother. I love the smell of the flowers and the field. I have not forgotten the birds or the sky or the earth when the rain makes it new. I am not sick like Mother, Papa. I am not small. I am strong."

Papa stares at me for a moment, then he stops his work and cuddles me. "No," he says. "You are not your mother. You are not small, you are not sick. You are right, bunny. You are strong."

~ * ~
I have smelled the earth made new many times since then. One evening when I knew Mother had fallen asleep by the drool on her chin I snuck outside to the nest of the mother bird who never scolds her chicks. I looked up but it wasn't there. I was confused and I walked around many times, searching for it. I could not find it so I sat at the foot of the oak tree and smelled the earth with my eyes closed. I let the chill set in my bones and took my fill of the scent of rain before I shook it off. I opened my eyes and noticed a scruffy little mound on the ground. I crawled over to it and choked when I recognized the mother bird. I cried and cried. My eyes made their own rain. I kept raining until a teardrop fell from my chin onto the mother bird.

"I have made you anew," I said, and found comfort in this statement. "You can sleep now; you can sleep and be new."

Now I sit in our dim house, Mother resting in her bed and Father is not at home. He's Father now. He used to be Papa. He used to have a deep voice that made my body sway and bright eyes that I lost myself in. Now his eyes are dim and reflect no light, and he never uses his voice. Now he is Father, like Mother. My poor sickly father.

"Child!" The scratchy sound disturbs my thoughts. I rise to my feet and follow the hoarse noise to Mother's bed. I look into her eyes and they burn me, so I quickly look away before they destroy the light in my eyes too.

"Child, you foolish thing, look over there! No, not there, stupid, in the corner! What do you see? A rat! A rat! What have I told you about rats? That's right, they are filthy, filthy vermin! Why have you let such a filthy thing into my house! Kill it this instant, and no supper for you!"

I reach down and carefully pick up the mouse, hiding it from Mother as I walk out to the field. I kiss him goodbye, don't come back or Mother will cause you trouble. Mother will destroy the light in your eyes and take away your voice.

I go back into the house and sit, waiting for the next shrill, "Child!" Because I am Child now. I used to be Applejack and before that I was Little Apple. Now I am Child.

Comments

[Dazzleme]

I love it! Its sad, but I do love it:)

[heavy weapons brony]

not 100% On whay really happened (its just me) but the story is still really emotional, is that really it? because i would really like to see more.

[LightOfTriumph]

..... Uhhh... It's a pretty good STORY, but it doesn't exactly sound like AJ. More like one of the Alicorn sisters.

[memphisgurl]

4576171 Why do you think that?

[LightOfTriumph]

4576294 .... I guess the lack of Drawl.

The use of "Mother" and "Father" instead of "Momma" and "Poppa." "I am." instead of "I'm." That kind of stuff.

Meh. Maybe I'm just picky. I like where you went with the EVENTS, but this pony just sounds too erudite to be a cowgirl.

*looks at your username* though what the fuck would I know.

[memphisgurl]

4576340 You make a good point. I didn't really think so much about the dialogue and speech. How is my username related to this??

[LightOfTriumph]

4576530 Are you a girl.... from Memphis Tenesee?

And you've always gotta be careful of dialogue. That's one of the VERY few things I can say I'm good at.

[memphisgurl]

4576561 I am a girl, but I don't live in Memphis. I live in Alpharetta, Georgia. Memphis is the name of my horse. As to the dialogue, I don't usually write stories with much dialogue, so its something I need to work on.

[Leafall]

This surely is... original. No, seriously, whenever I read a story with a similar topic, it all sounds the same. But this fic was actually really enjoyable. And, ouch, got me kind of feelsy. Bravo! (and you shall get a watch)

[memphisgurl]

4579178 Thank you so much! I know what you mean about everything being practically the same on this topic. I kinda wrote this deliberately to be something different than all of the other fics about Applejack's childhood.