What Are You?
The motor of the 1999 Honda Civic was all John could hear ever since the radio was stolen and ruined by some local kids. The soft sound turned into a crunching sound of gravel from the path to the farm. He reached the gate of The Firefly Farms, his place of work for the past few picking seasons. John was also considered a freelancer in the town, doing work for whoever needed it.
He stepped out of the car and headed to the house. The sun was setting, so he didn’t have much time. He knocked on the door. “Mr. Evans?” he called. The door swung open and out came a tall man. He was nearly six and a half feet, had aged skin, and wore a hide jacket.
“You made it!” he said with a joking surprise.
“You didn’t explain on the phone where the intruder was seen.” John’s grumpiness got ahold of him. Missing dinner made him irritable.
“Oh, well Jacob saw her enter through the north-western hole. You know, where the tree fell from the outside.”
“Okay, thanks.” He headed off the porch as Joe headed in and shut the door. John stopped as he let one word sink in. “Her?”
He spent around half an hour passing through the orchard looking for the intruder. The light had receded behind the mountains. He had to use the flashlight from his keys to find his way through the orchard. He had his pistol at the ready in case something else stalked its way to him. He followed the training he took back at home. “Keep hand in an easy-to-reach position, call your intent, don’t fire unless attacked,” he repeated over and over again, keeping calm.
He was two minutes into the search when he heard a rustling. He took his pistol out and rushed to the sound. The rustling continued along with several cries of pain. The pitch sounded as if it came from a woman or a young boy. The grunts sped away from him. Once he got to an aisle, he caught a glimpse of the person. What he could mostly see was a dress and bare feet. Now he understood why she was grunting.
“Stop right there!” he shouted, sprinting to the rustling sound. It headed towards the center of the orchard, one place John knew very well. She had nowhere to go other than a locked tool shed. John turned off his light.
The pained grunting came to a stop behind the shed, but the sound of panicked panting took its place. John snuck around the other side, guiding his boots along the foundation of the shed as to not make noise. Once he saw her calm down with steady breathing, he turned on his light and grabbed a hold of her arm. The woman let out a scream.
“Calm down,” John said to the woman. He was amazed that she wasn’t struggling. She stood there accepting her fate. With her head down, she whimpered and shook from fear of what might happen. Her eyes closed, with tears glistening at the corners of her eye. His heart was softened from the sigh and he felt sorry for her. She was probably assaulted and left behind in a place she did not know. “Ma’am, are you alright?”
She looked to him, letting some tears go. She was in a moment of shock. She tried to whisper but it was too quiet, it was more like a squeak. It was saddening.
John felt horrible. She was so fearful of him, a man she had never met. Her fear brought a fire to the bottom of his heart.
“Listen, I’m not going to hurt you.” John tried to get her to come out of her shell. “I just want to talk to you.” The woman began to listen. “I need you to come to the farmhouse. We need to get something straightened out.”
“Um, okay,” she responded quietly.
John loosened his grip on her wrist. She stood up straight and offered her hand. Trust had begun to show. “My name is John,” he said to her. “What’s yours?”
“I’m Flutter…” her voice trailed off.
“I’m sorry?”
“Fluttersh…”
“Come again?”
She let out a soft squeak.
Her voice kept trailing off. The sound of the rain came to drown out her voice. The pitter-patter made it impossible to hear her soft voice.
“Never mind that, we need to get going!” shouted John as he grabbed her again and pulled her to the house.
As they ran to the farmhouse, the rain poured down on them. They were soaked to the bone when they arrived at the porch. The light made clear the dark puddles on the wooden steps of the porch and a mark on the woman’s shoulder. It looked like three pink butterflies with green antennae. The image mesmerized John. He gazed upon the marking as the woman shook in the cold. She looked back at him and blushed in embarrassment.
It took a few seconds for John to notice the woman was blushing.
John came out of his standing slumber with a shake. “Sorry, it’s just your tattoo…” He chuckled. The woman came to look at him with a small timid smile.
The door opened, and Mrs. Evans stepped out. “Oh my, you’re soaked.” she said with worry. The elder woman looked at the strange haired woman. Her fear was all that was visible. Mrs. Evans believed she needed to be careful so as to not scare her further. “Who might you be, deary?” she asked.
The strange woman looked away with a slight frown.
“Well, I am Mrs. Evans,” she said with a smile, trying the get her to come of out her shell. The woman continued to stay silent. “Well, come in. This cold will be the death of you.” She offered her house as shelter to the two.
They headed in, leaving a trail of water on the wooden floor. Mrs. Evans led them into the dining room. She let the woman sit as she grabbed some towels from the hall. She returned and placed the towels on the table. While looking at the woman, she got a brilliant idea of how to make her more at home.
“I’ll make you some tea to warm up.” She kindly offered as she headed to the kitchen.
John was left alone with her again, so he examined her. The woman took a look at her hands. She moved each finger one at a time, trying to get a feel of things. She looked at her leg. Though dirty, she gawked at them in fear and confusion. Through his time taking mental notes, John could tell one thing: she was probably under the influence.
The woman looked at him back, feeling awkward as he stared at her face. She blushed, turning her eyes away from him. Again, he woke up, apologizing for drifting into thought. She didn’t mind. They were alone for quite some time. The missus took her time on the tea. ‘This could be a good time to ask some questions,’ John thought quickly, ‘what could I ask her before Joe comes? He was obviously resting upstairs.’
“The rain caught us by surprise, huh?” he asked nonchalantly.
“Oh, well, yes,” she answered. It was a start.
“It’s quite scary out there in the dark, especially this close to the woods”
“Well… I live close to the Everfree forest. I often walk into it… but it’s okay, I come out fine.”
‘Everfree forest?’ he thought to himself. ‘Where the hell is that?’
By this time, some loud steps sounded from upstairs. They headed from directly above to the direction of the den and down the stairs. The loud steps seemed angrier and harder the closer they got.
It took a few seconds from the echoing steps end to hear the grumbling of an elderly man coming into the dining room. “I heard John’s voice,” he said in surprise. “He didn’t kill them did he? The last thing I need is the police coming here…” He stepped into the room and saw a new face in it. With a grumpy face, he walked over to the woman. “So, you were the trespasser.” The woman began to cower. “Have you been eating my peaches?”
“Joe, that’s enough,” scolded a voice of reason coming from the kitchen. Mrs Evans headed over to the man with a look on her face that showed disapproval. “This young lady is soaked to the bone and hurt from being out in the orchard, and you still want to interrogate her?”
Her husband was drenched in shame. She always knew how to make him feel bad about any situation. It comes in the training from mother to daughter. “Well, how else would we know what she was doing?” he defended.
“Well, yelling is not going to help. Remember Joshua? He only yelled back after a few years.”
John knew the answer, but he would rather wait it out. He knew better than to enter a couple’s quarrel.
“Then what? Do we just give her what she wants until she answers us?” Joe continued.
“Well, it works better than force.”
“How about we just ask her nicely?” John couldn’t went beyond what his mind told him and spoke out in an inappropriate time.
The two looked at him. “At least he agreed with me,” said Mrs. Evans. Joe kept his cowl of grumpiness and crossed his arms in defeat.
John came first to ask the questions. He reached into his inside pocket and brought out a small notebook and a pen. It was a force of habit from his time working in the city as an officer. He had the basic questions he could ask. “What is your name?” he asked while preparing his hand on the notebook.
“I, umm.” She was shaking like a leaf. The fight seemed to have unsettled her nerves.
John placed his hand onto her shoulder and looked at her with a smile. “Don’t worry. We’re not here to hurt you. We just want to help.”
The woman looked at him, analyzing his face. She saw something trustworthy in it. As John’s hand receded, she straightened her pose and took a few deep breaths. “I’m… Fluttershy.”
They were all amused by what she called herself. John wrote the name and continued. “Is that your real name or are you just giving me an alias?” he asked, watching her face.
“That’s my real name,” she said with a sad face, believing she was angering people.
“That sounds like some hippie I met back in the sixties when I had to break up a nude love-in on town square,” said Joe Evans, interrupting the line of thought. His wife shushed him.
“Moving on,” John continued, “Where are you from?”
“You see I’m originally from Cloudsdale, but I currently live in Ponyville”
John stopped writing. He rubbed his eyes from corner to corner. “Are you messing with us?” he nearly shouted at her.
“No, I’m not,” she lowered her head, wincing in case of a strike. “I’m telling you what I know. Am I that unbelievable?” she was shocked by an oncoming realization. It seemed to hit her like a truck.
“Well, do you know anyone around here, anyone that could take you in?” John concluded.
“I… don’t know of any… I don’t know anyone here. Even you ponies look different.” She stated while quivering.
Joe threw his hands in the air. “I knew it,” he said. “I need to talk with you, John,” he said loudly as he left the dining room area. John followed him as Mrs. Evans stayed with the woman.
Upon entering the living room, John came to ask a simple question. “What’s wrong, sir?”
“My problem is that I will not get my money back for any produce she stole!” Joe shouted.
“What do you mean?”
“I saw the signs, she’s one of them forest commune hippies.”
“What?”
“She came from the forest, she uses weird animal or plant lingo, the hippie name,” he kept on going. “It all leads back to something my friend in Nebraska had to deal with. His crops were stolen and eaten by these hippies. Their leader, Bear Hug, led the group and were left free for a few years. Of course that was before the government found them harvesting illegal crops and they were all arrested.”
‘He had some story to tell…’ John thought.
“Anyway,” Joe continued, “if she was sent here, that meant either she was sent to look for food, or she was exiled.”
John started to think on what was said. Joe came up with a valid point. She probably came from a village somewhere not too far from here.
“What do you suggest we do?” he asked hoping to get a safe and moral answer from him.
“We should send her back with a message telling them not to come back, probably a picture of me with my gun.”
“First of all,” John reasoned, “we need to know if she comes from a commune. Second, if we were to go with her she would probably be exiled. Then we would have to keep her with us being that it would be our fault she was exiled.”
“You’re right…” he grumbled. Considering what was said, he smiled in a way that scared John. “You should take her in,” he said, pointing his index finger like a gun of shame.
“Why me?” John was surprised and annoyed.
“You were the one who said it would be impossible to return her, and you were the first to find her. She’s probably grown on you…” he winked.
“Look, I get what you’re saying, but why me?”
“I saw your house. Nice two bedroom house, both with beds and drawers. It will be perfect for her.”
“But what do you think the neighbors would say? ‘He’s got some fresh meat’. Do you know what my reputation is in this town? People will think worse than they do already.”
“Would you rather her stay on the street?”
“Why don’t you just let her stay in Andrea’s room for a while?”
“Do you know how possessive ‘Drea can get? We had to pull her off another girl in school because she touched ‘Drea’s toy.”
John looked at his feet, rubbing the back of his head. He continued to ponder if he could take her in. One question came to mind. ‘Will she agree?’
They arrived back in the dining room where the woman who called herself Fluttershy was sipping on her tea. John stopped at the doorway and looked at Fluttershy. With one look, he stopped in his tracks and gazed at her with eyes enlarged. Joe tapped him on the shoulder.
“What, did you see a rat?” he asked with worry.
“No,” John replied, “just a bad memory.” He snapped back into reality, watching as the memory faded away.
They stepped over to Fluttershy and got her attention. She turned in curiosity.
“Listen, Miss,” Joe started. “We see you are in a situation you can’t deal with right now. You obviously can’t return home and need a place to stay. So my friend here has offered his hospitality at Casa ‘ale-vares.’” John stiffened at the statement, not knowing if he was joking or if he had never learned how to pronounce ‘Alvarez’. “Tell her.” Joe nudged John.
“Well, it’s not much. You will have your own room…” he stammered, trying not to offend. “The kitchen can be messy but I can clean it if it will make you more comfortable.” John then realized the stupidity behind what he just said. He smiled awkwardly, not looking at the people around him just in case they heard.
“That’d be nice,” said the woman with a cute grin that would have made Mona Lisa jealous.
Trying to recover from the slip, he looked at her dress. The green dress was covered in stains from the chase. He had to say something about it. “First we need get you some new clothes.” The three looked at him with curiosity. The woman blushed in a shy manner in ignorance of normal etiquette.
“But I don’t normally wear clothes.” She stated.
“We don’t care what your hippie-dippy commune believes about clothes,” Joe growled. “In civilized public, we wear clothes wherever we go.”
The woman flinched, expecting to be hit by the older man. John quickly moved in to comfort her with a gentle touch. She looked at him, eyes quaking. She felt calmed by his presence.
“She’s spooked enough as it is. Let’s not make it worse,” said John, hoping to calm Joe down. “What is with you and hippies?” he mumbled to himself.
“We got some old clothes that Andrea wanted to throw away,” Mrs Evans interjected. “Perhaps she could take them.”
“You sure she won’t miss them?” John asked.
“She’s been getting new clothes since she went off to college. I’m sure she won’t miss them.”
“With what money?” interjected Joe, starting this argument again.
John let out an awkward chuckle as the couple argued about their daughter’s money. He took a look at the woman, watching as she giggled at the couple’s playful spat. He began to think of the woman he had in his past, and the good times they had.
‘Maybe this could work,’ he said to himself, expecting the hippie girl will be a clean addition in his home. “I’ll bring up the car,” he said to try distract the couple.
“What’s a car?” asked the ever confused pink haired woman.
Stats
Page generated in 0.026 seconds
Total duration
884 users online
1,366,656 hits today, 2,280,440 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.®
please feel free to comment.
I want to know what you guys think of the story.
i48.tinypic.com/vxi1bl.jpg
It has some potential. Although I think that Fluttershy would start to wise up to the situation pretty fast. While she might not understand what things are, she would at least get some understanding within the first day.
Otherwise, as my picture illustrates, I like this, more please!
not all that bad though the grammar needs some ruffening up
1841629 I did get an editor. I guess I should talk with him.
1841659 an editor should be able to catch what I can being as I am rather far from being an editor
I'd say, first things first, put some capital letters in your summary. I don't even want to read the story itself because your opening pitch for your writing skills includes a complete lack of the shift key.
1841754 That was cold.
But I tried my best. Now edited as much as i could see.
He gonna fucking rape her then murder her. I just know it. Poor Fluttershy.
1844006 I'm not the kind of person who would write that.
your scaring me.
Seriously. Why all the hate?
Not hatin. I love this fic. The rape and murder thing was just a joke. I didn't mean to send a message of distaste. This has been great so far. Needs a little more meat on it, but it's good nonetheless.
I hope you will continue.
1844527 Sure, no worries. I just was reminded of a classmate that said my stories need more hookers and death. I promise the story will get more meatier as it progresses, whatever that means.
I am on chapter 6 at the moment and it just needs to go through the editor to get it up.
Good to hear! ^^
I want to reveal several awkward bumbs in the story... but that Derpy with some kind of hunting rifle won't let me formulate what I'd like to say...
2344822 It's the sniper from TF2.
I absolutely love the way they translate everything Fluttershy says as hippie speak. It's so perfect and amazing.