Friendship Is Monotone

by Shukawarioserfi

Family Is The Most Forced Upon Thing

The first thing always I hear in the morning on a weekend is a certain somepony screaming at 10 a.m. to wake me up. I'd much prefer to sleep longer on the weekends, but there are certain responsibilities I have to complete in the morning hours. I must be at my steppony's mercy to make sure all of my responsibilities get done in a timely manner. Ever since my dad found a new special somepony I've felt more and more hurt and neglected. I still love my mother but the one who my dad is trying to replace her with has always treated me more like a servant than her child. And that's understandable because I'm not her child.

I wake up on command as she requests, albeit reluctantly. I always must be careful to hide my feelings about my tasks. If my steppony sees even a hint of reluctance on my part such as a dull facial expression, heavy irritated breathing, centripetal eye movement, or mumbling and saying things that question or are unrelated to the task at hand I will get reprimanded. I sleep in the basement floor of our scantily-clad house, mostly to get a way from her. But sadly I can never escape the tyrannical tune that is her booming voice, commanding me to obey. The whole time trotting up the stairs I make sure to do progressive breathing exercises so that I can prevent another catastrophic outburst.

I breath deeply, and silently as I speak. "Mom. What is it?" The thing I hate the most is being forced to call her mom, but when I don't she always gives me a disapproving look that makes me cringe.

"Feed the chickens, water the lawn, water the garden, make sure everypony's clothes are washed..." She chortles. I always stop listening usually when she gives me more than three things to do at a time. She really should give me a list. I focus on her mouth moving up and down and the way her red-orange mane moves as she speaks. Her lime green coat seems to me like the color of vomit. And her red eyes really compliment her authoritarian style of parenting. "...Now I want all of these things done as quickly as possible."

I nod. Even though I'd prefer to go back to bed, I find it easier to just do what she says and avoid trouble. I always breath a sigh of relief when my dad is home, as he is on weekends, but he usually sleeps longer than I do. I walk outside first, careful not to swear under my breath. She has ears like a bat. As I exit to the front porch I trot quickly to the chicken coup. I can hear the squawking of the chickens as I move closer. I pick up the heavy bag of feed that rests on the side of the coup with my mouth. I drag it across the ground due to my immense lack of strength and intelligence. The feed bag tears. Now I curse under my breath, pretty sure that my steppony is not within earshot. She's going to kill me. I groan as all the chickens rapidly run out to peck at the food.

"Well." I say to myself. "I guess that counts as feeding the chickens." I'm hoping to just forget about my mishap instead of being anxious about it as I get my other chores done. Thankfully they are not that difficult and I get them done about as soon as my dad wakes up. I yawn as I finish the last of the laundry.

"I'm proud of you son." My dad says smiling. His warm brown eyes look at me appreciatively. His long grey mane that he refuses to cut because he feels like it makes him a more aerodynamic flyer. His water-blue coat is where his pegasus wings rest when he is not in flight. He is unlike me, my steppony, or my mother in the fact that he is a pegasus. I admire him because of it.

"Thanks." I smile back.

"Now let's go get breakfast."

My dad gets permission from my steppony and takes me out to breakfast. I really wish he didn't have to do that, but many of times it seems that he is under her mercy as well. "Dad?" I say as we trot along on mane street.

"Yeah, son." He looks to me smiling.

"Why did you have to ask permission to take me out to breakfast?" I ask, confused. It's hard to imagine somepony as awesome as my dad to defer everything to his wife. I've always been sad at his lack of ability to stand up for himself, just like me.

"Well, your mom just wants to make sure you're okay." Dad says. I hate it when he says 'your mom'. He doesn't get it. Why did he; Hydroform, the polite, amiable, and hardworking pegasus marry Copper Leaf, the most shrill, brash, pain in the flank earth pony I have ever been around in my entire life. He doesn't get it. My real mom has had her issues, but she's still my mom. Not her.

I growl. "She doesn't care about me." I sincerely meant that. I don't see any way in which she cares about me or loves me. I'm getting awfully tired of all my failed attempts to please her and make her love me, only for her to continue to criticize me and bring me down. I've retreated into an emotional shell that has left me a shadow of my former self; an introvert.

"Whoa, whoa." My father, Hydroform, gets down to my level, looking at me questioningly. "Do you really think that?" He asks. Sometimes my father doesn't understand but this time I see a glimmer of hope. I can't hold back my tears at this point.

"Yes. She treats me like a slave." I realize that my statement was overexaggerated. She may not treat me like a slave, but I feel like a slave. But the way she raised me, passively ignoring me until I had a task to complete. Shunning me for having opinions or beliefs that are different then hers. The constant rhetorical questions, the questions that I deemed rhetorical, but still she made me squawk out the answers that she wanted me to say constantly, like a parrot. If there was any hint of disagreement on my part she would break me emotionally until I bent to her will.

"Okay, food always makes you feel better so let's eat." My dad said, smiling and ruffing my mane before entering a restaurant called 'Stirrups'. I follow behind him joyfully. He is right, food makes me feel better. I stress-eat constantly and I bask in the pleasure of junk food more often than I should. My dad goes to the counter and orders two chocolate chip muffins. Their muffins are huge here, and for me, the bigger the portion size the better. I let my dad carry our food to the table, and I sit down waiting eagerly. A certain gray cross-eyed mare is hovering over our table in the booth next to us. Dad sets our food down. "Okay, let's-"

My dad is quickly interrupted by the mare stretching over our table and finishing our muffins... in one bite." My dad just stands there in awe. I look about ready to curse out the mare. The mare quickly swallows. "I'm sorry. I really like muffins." The mare's uneven eyes seem to stare at the both of us, blinking. I hold my tongue, it seems like this mare is sincere.

"Apology accepted." My dad said unfazed.

Comments

[97xxfastbike]

A really odd place to end this chapter. No cliff-hanger, and no resolution. But just a terminus.
I feel like you haven't laid the real conflict out yet. The protagonist is unhappy, but not really in a conflict situation yet. It would be nice to have had that much of the story told before posting. Right now, I really don't know what to think or feel about this.

[Shukawarioserfi]

>> 97xxfastbike Well, I assumed that the reader would pin the main antagonist Copper Leaf as the main source of conflict for the protagonist. However, more insight on Monotone's internal conflict will be discussed in later chapters. This was mostly just an exposition. Maybe in the future I'll add one or two more chapters and get more into the rising action and develop the conflict better before I submit my next story.

[Danthebronyman]

A good read, I just finished chapter 2. Not bad at all.