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Organised by
RogerDodger
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2000–8000
Letting Go
Over the years, I’ve learned a lot. I credit my parents, mostly, for how well I’ve turned out. My mother taught me how to be strong, a good earth pony trait. Her tender heart and strong will helped keep me grounded, always focused on the path ahead. My father, well, I understand now that he taught me everything else I needed to know.
Not a day goes by when I don’t look back on my days in Ponyville, the time when life was perfect, back when I had no idea how things would change after moving to the big city. Overnight, my whole world vanished. Thankfully, the old lessons carried through. A whirlwind of friends and family ushered in a day that I can hardly remember, but would never forget. If I had known then what I know now, I don’t think I would have done anything different, yet I wonder if my life would have been any better. Easier, sure. Better? Who knows? Still, time has helped heal the wounds and given some perspective. Even with all of that, I wouldn’t wish my experience on my worst enemy, let alone a young filly.
The long grass tickled my belly as I ran across the field toward the trees. I could hear my mother calling in the distance, but I wasn’t listening. Nothing could make me turn around. I had made up my mind, and I wasn’t leaving. The farm was where I belonged, not some far away city.
I ran for my friend’s house. It was only the next farm over, but it felt like going all the way to town and back given that I had taken the long way through the orchard. Over the first hill and down the rows of the second, I made my way to the short fence that marked the end of our fields and the start of theirs. The trees were in full blossom, but it wouldn’t matter if I wasn’t there to see them bear fruit.
As I neared the end of the last row, the humming from the line of little white houses served as a warning to stay clear. I should have been happy, just like the bees buzzing from hive to flower and back, working through the day, blissfully unaware of any change. It should have been a day to celebrate having just received my namesake cutie mark a few days before. Instead, the tears ran freely, streaking back against my mane. I maneuvered my way past the hives and between the sagging fence poles, at last free of the Clementine orchard and into the neighbors’ apples.
The Apple farmhouse sat on a rise in the middle of their fields, right next to their big red barn. I knew the house as well as I knew my own, I played there often enough. I could see the weather vane in the distance and kept on in that direction. Barely over the first rise past the fence, I got caught up on a root and tumbled head over hooves into the dirt. I’m not sure how long I sat there, crying. Even with the scrape, it wasn’t like I couldn’t walk, but that wasn’t what was hurting. All I needed was somepony to tell me it was going to be alright. I needed a lie; what I got was the truth.
“Hey now, what do we have here?” My friend’s sister pulled up with her apple cart strapped around her barrel. In no time, she freed herself from the harness and made her way to my side.
I sniffed and tried to wipe away the half dried tears from my eyes. All I managed to do was smear dirt across my face making me look even worse off than I was.
“What’s the matter, Honey Blossom? Why’re you out here all alone?” She was worried, but kept a straight face, much like my mother without the lecture.
I must have looked rather pitiful as I stared at my wounded foreleg. “I-I don’t want to leave.” It was all I could get out before I burst into tears again. The gentle touch of a farmer’s hooves stroked my mane for as long as it took for the well to run dry.
Exhausted, I let her hoist me onto her back. She kept a gentle pace which rocked me to the edge of sleep even in the short distance to the farmhouse. I barely recall being tucked into bed, my foreleg wrapped in a bandage, with the soothing tones of a lullaby filling my ears as I lay cradled in the cleft of a soft pillow and warming blanket.
“Hush now, little filly, don’t you cry or fret…”
“Thank you so much for looking after her, Applejack. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found her.”
“Aw shucks, Miss Clementine, it’s the least we could do for ya. She’s a bit banged up, but I reckon she’ll be back to normal with a hot bath and a good meal.”
I rolled away from facing the door with the ponies conversing in the hall beyond and stared out the open window. This wasn’t the kind of wake up call I had wanted. The mid-afternoon sun cast a glow across the floor at the end of the bed. Apples and hearts decorated the bedsheets and canopy along with nearly every other surface in the room. It felt like home, just with fewer flowers and apples instead of oranges. I hoped Apple Bloom wouldn’t mind my stealing her bed for the day.
“Are you sure you don’t want to leave her here with us overnight?”
“That’s very kind of you, but no. She needs to be there, even if she doesn’t understand. Again, thank you for taking care of her. I really appreciate it.”
The door swung open and I caught a draft blowing across the room. The warm air brought the smell of the orchard to my nose in full force. Regardless, I pulled the covers up over my head and tried my best to ignore my mother.
“Come on, Honey. We have to get going. There’s a lot to do before tonight and a lot more before we have to leave tomorrow.”
“Go away!” I didn’t have much choice, cornered as I was. The best I could do was make it clear that I didn’t want to leave this nice, warm, comfortable bed. “Leave me here with my friends.”
“I’m sorry, Honey. We have to get going.”
Before I had a chance to make another plea, the blanket fell, and I found myself being pulled away from the pillow and into my mother’s embrace.
“But I don’t want to go. You can’t make me!” Even I knew it was pointless to fight. My emotions got the better of me, even so.
“I know you don’t like it, but please, try and understand. It’s not what I wanted either.” My mother had a way of saying things that seemed totally reasonable, but kept the foul taste masked in sugary sweetness. “Please, come home with me and help me be strong?”
“Fine!” I relented. Her soft brown eyes and wind tousled mane melted away my resolve. She needed me, and I couldn’t say no when she asked like that.
I moved toward the door. Applejack nodded and smiled. Apple Bloom kept her eyes to the ground. I did much the same as I passed. “Thanks for letting me use your room.”
“That’s what friends are for,” she replied without looking up.
How many days had we spent in the fields together? How many adventures had we shared? Neither one of us could bear to say goodbye.
Down the steps and out the door, I made my way toward the path that led home, at least what was still my home for the next twenty-four hours or so. My mother walked alongside. Most of the trip passed in silence. It wasn’t until we turned up the path to our house that she finally said something.
“Let’s get you washed up first, and then I’ll help with your dress and mane. We only have a few hours.”
“Yes, mother.” At this point I had given up arguing. Even the thought of having to wear a dress didn’t seem to bother me any more than moving away forever did. That’s how I knew things couldn’t get any worse. I hated wearing dresses.
The warm bath water pulled the dirt and grime from my coat. My mother’s fetlocks wiped away what remained of the tears from my matted cheeks. Once clean and dry, she went to work on my mane. The pull of her brush against my honey blond hair gave it back a shine that she seemed rather proud of. At least, she took a certain amount of pride in setting it just right—I had trouble understanding why it even mattered so much to her how I looked. Her own mane could have used the attention far more than mine.
I followed her back to her room, our hooffalls echoing through the silent hallway. She opened the door and let me enter ahead of her. I stepped forward, resigned to my fate for tonight at least. Laid across the bed, two matching dresses for mother and I sat empty, hollow shells waiting to be filled. The black silk bore a grim contrast to my cream colored coat, but served to highlight the light orange of my mother’s.
At her command, I raised my forehooves over my head. A chill ran down my spine as she lowered the dress over my head. Each breath I took felt like ice in my lungs. I held one for as long as I could while she worked to tie the ribbon around my barrel. My tail pulled tight between my hind legs. I flinched as she ran a hoof along my flank, smoothing out the fabric that clung to me like a leech. I just wanted this moment to be over.
“There now, my beautiful daughter, don’t you look like a princess.”
She smiled at me. I couldn’t bear to look her in the face for more than the second it took to find that smile. Then she nuzzled at my cheek and laid a hoof around my shoulder. It was all I could do to keep from crying again. I managed to pull away before I completely lost it. Mother kept on smiling.
“Why don’t you play quietly in your room while mommy gets herself ready?”
I nodded my head and moped out the door. Walking slowly down the hall, the swish of fabric grated on my nerves. I managed to make it back to my room and planted myself by the window.
Staring out into the late afternoon sky, I couldn’t help but think about everything I was going to miss about this place. Ponyville was where I was born, where all my friends lived and played. How could some other city even compare? Most of all, I gazed out at the old barn—so many memories, both good and bad. How could I leave them all behind?
The sun dipped lower in the western sky. I could hear my mother’s approach long before her voice called for me to come join her for dinner. I obeyed. I was beaten, and I knew it. I had no say in the direction my life was turning. Carrot sticks and hay fries, my favorite meal, not even that could cheer me up. We ate quickly for no other reason than keeping the cart pony waiting for us any longer than he had to.
Mother helped me into the seat before settling in beside me. The driver took all the time in the world to pull us a mile down the road. Honestly, I could have beat him there three times over, even with my scraped up leg. Maybe he went so slow so that all the other ponies behind us could keep up. Anyway, it wasn’t a race, there was no prize waiting at the end. We reached the small clover topped hill a little before sunset and made our way toward the elm that guarded the peak.
From my seat in the shadow of that elm, I turned back to try and see who had joined us. It seemed like all the neighbors were there, my friends included. I gave a little wave, and they waved back. They looked as silly as I did, each in their own dress.
The Mayor sat next to my mom, one hoof resting on her shoulder while mom held me close against her other side. Most every pony there was wearing something fancy, which seemed odd to me at the time especially when you consider that most of them were farmers who probably only owned a single dress or suit. When everypony had gathered, the Mayor got up and said a few words. After she sat down, Apple Bloom’s sister got up and gave her two bits as well.
One by one, the other ponies paraded out in front of us, stopping to say hello and goodbye. Most had a tear in their eye, but my mother stayed strong like I knew she would. I had never been to a going away party before, but I knew I never wanted to go to another one. I hugged each of my friends as they passed, especially Apple Bloom since she was the closest pony I had to a real sister. It seemed like hardest thing I’d ever done saying goodbye to her.
Once everypony had said their goodbyes, we got back in the cart and headed home for the last time. Mother held me tight the entire ride. I looked up into her tired eyes and asked the one question I hadn’t been able to ask earlier. “Mommy, when we move to the city tomorrow, is daddy coming with us?”
“No, Honey. Daddy is staying here.” She pulled me closer and whispered into my ear. “But I promise we’ll come back and visit when we can.”
The cart turned up the lane and stopped in front of our house. Mother carried me inside and helped me out of the dress. I’ll never forget what she said as she tucked me into bed that night. “Everything will be alright.” It was the lie I needed to hear.
The next morning, I woke up, ate my breakfast bowl of oatmeal, and found myself in the back seat of the car almost before the sun came up. All my clothes and toys were packed in the trailer hitched up behind. Mom and I waved one last goodbye to the house and the farm before setting out for the highway. My mother taught me how to be strong and keep moving forward.
The entire ride to the city, I clung to the toy horse that my dad had given me for my birthday only a few days before. It all happened so fast, but I remembered the lessons he taught and all the stories he shared about the magical land of Equestria. It was his gift that helped me the most in life. Always be kind, generous, and loyal; be honest and share in the joy that life has to offer no matter what struggles you have to face. Even though he was gone, his lessons lived on. It may sound silly, but he taught me what it meant to be a pony. I’ll never forget that.
Truth be told, moving day wasn’t so bad. Letting go day was much harder.
Not a day goes by when I don’t look back on my days in Ponyville, the time when life was perfect, back when I had no idea how things would change after moving to the big city. Overnight, my whole world vanished. Thankfully, the old lessons carried through. A whirlwind of friends and family ushered in a day that I can hardly remember, but would never forget. If I had known then what I know now, I don’t think I would have done anything different, yet I wonder if my life would have been any better. Easier, sure. Better? Who knows? Still, time has helped heal the wounds and given some perspective. Even with all of that, I wouldn’t wish my experience on my worst enemy, let alone a young filly.
The long grass tickled my belly as I ran across the field toward the trees. I could hear my mother calling in the distance, but I wasn’t listening. Nothing could make me turn around. I had made up my mind, and I wasn’t leaving. The farm was where I belonged, not some far away city.
I ran for my friend’s house. It was only the next farm over, but it felt like going all the way to town and back given that I had taken the long way through the orchard. Over the first hill and down the rows of the second, I made my way to the short fence that marked the end of our fields and the start of theirs. The trees were in full blossom, but it wouldn’t matter if I wasn’t there to see them bear fruit.
As I neared the end of the last row, the humming from the line of little white houses served as a warning to stay clear. I should have been happy, just like the bees buzzing from hive to flower and back, working through the day, blissfully unaware of any change. It should have been a day to celebrate having just received my namesake cutie mark a few days before. Instead, the tears ran freely, streaking back against my mane. I maneuvered my way past the hives and between the sagging fence poles, at last free of the Clementine orchard and into the neighbors’ apples.
The Apple farmhouse sat on a rise in the middle of their fields, right next to their big red barn. I knew the house as well as I knew my own, I played there often enough. I could see the weather vane in the distance and kept on in that direction. Barely over the first rise past the fence, I got caught up on a root and tumbled head over hooves into the dirt. I’m not sure how long I sat there, crying. Even with the scrape, it wasn’t like I couldn’t walk, but that wasn’t what was hurting. All I needed was somepony to tell me it was going to be alright. I needed a lie; what I got was the truth.
“Hey now, what do we have here?” My friend’s sister pulled up with her apple cart strapped around her barrel. In no time, she freed herself from the harness and made her way to my side.
I sniffed and tried to wipe away the half dried tears from my eyes. All I managed to do was smear dirt across my face making me look even worse off than I was.
“What’s the matter, Honey Blossom? Why’re you out here all alone?” She was worried, but kept a straight face, much like my mother without the lecture.
I must have looked rather pitiful as I stared at my wounded foreleg. “I-I don’t want to leave.” It was all I could get out before I burst into tears again. The gentle touch of a farmer’s hooves stroked my mane for as long as it took for the well to run dry.
Exhausted, I let her hoist me onto her back. She kept a gentle pace which rocked me to the edge of sleep even in the short distance to the farmhouse. I barely recall being tucked into bed, my foreleg wrapped in a bandage, with the soothing tones of a lullaby filling my ears as I lay cradled in the cleft of a soft pillow and warming blanket.
“Hush now, little filly, don’t you cry or fret…”
“Thank you so much for looking after her, Applejack. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found her.”
“Aw shucks, Miss Clementine, it’s the least we could do for ya. She’s a bit banged up, but I reckon she’ll be back to normal with a hot bath and a good meal.”
I rolled away from facing the door with the ponies conversing in the hall beyond and stared out the open window. This wasn’t the kind of wake up call I had wanted. The mid-afternoon sun cast a glow across the floor at the end of the bed. Apples and hearts decorated the bedsheets and canopy along with nearly every other surface in the room. It felt like home, just with fewer flowers and apples instead of oranges. I hoped Apple Bloom wouldn’t mind my stealing her bed for the day.
“Are you sure you don’t want to leave her here with us overnight?”
“That’s very kind of you, but no. She needs to be there, even if she doesn’t understand. Again, thank you for taking care of her. I really appreciate it.”
The door swung open and I caught a draft blowing across the room. The warm air brought the smell of the orchard to my nose in full force. Regardless, I pulled the covers up over my head and tried my best to ignore my mother.
“Come on, Honey. We have to get going. There’s a lot to do before tonight and a lot more before we have to leave tomorrow.”
“Go away!” I didn’t have much choice, cornered as I was. The best I could do was make it clear that I didn’t want to leave this nice, warm, comfortable bed. “Leave me here with my friends.”
“I’m sorry, Honey. We have to get going.”
Before I had a chance to make another plea, the blanket fell, and I found myself being pulled away from the pillow and into my mother’s embrace.
“But I don’t want to go. You can’t make me!” Even I knew it was pointless to fight. My emotions got the better of me, even so.
“I know you don’t like it, but please, try and understand. It’s not what I wanted either.” My mother had a way of saying things that seemed totally reasonable, but kept the foul taste masked in sugary sweetness. “Please, come home with me and help me be strong?”
“Fine!” I relented. Her soft brown eyes and wind tousled mane melted away my resolve. She needed me, and I couldn’t say no when she asked like that.
I moved toward the door. Applejack nodded and smiled. Apple Bloom kept her eyes to the ground. I did much the same as I passed. “Thanks for letting me use your room.”
“That’s what friends are for,” she replied without looking up.
How many days had we spent in the fields together? How many adventures had we shared? Neither one of us could bear to say goodbye.
Down the steps and out the door, I made my way toward the path that led home, at least what was still my home for the next twenty-four hours or so. My mother walked alongside. Most of the trip passed in silence. It wasn’t until we turned up the path to our house that she finally said something.
“Let’s get you washed up first, and then I’ll help with your dress and mane. We only have a few hours.”
“Yes, mother.” At this point I had given up arguing. Even the thought of having to wear a dress didn’t seem to bother me any more than moving away forever did. That’s how I knew things couldn’t get any worse. I hated wearing dresses.
The warm bath water pulled the dirt and grime from my coat. My mother’s fetlocks wiped away what remained of the tears from my matted cheeks. Once clean and dry, she went to work on my mane. The pull of her brush against my honey blond hair gave it back a shine that she seemed rather proud of. At least, she took a certain amount of pride in setting it just right—I had trouble understanding why it even mattered so much to her how I looked. Her own mane could have used the attention far more than mine.
I followed her back to her room, our hooffalls echoing through the silent hallway. She opened the door and let me enter ahead of her. I stepped forward, resigned to my fate for tonight at least. Laid across the bed, two matching dresses for mother and I sat empty, hollow shells waiting to be filled. The black silk bore a grim contrast to my cream colored coat, but served to highlight the light orange of my mother’s.
At her command, I raised my forehooves over my head. A chill ran down my spine as she lowered the dress over my head. Each breath I took felt like ice in my lungs. I held one for as long as I could while she worked to tie the ribbon around my barrel. My tail pulled tight between my hind legs. I flinched as she ran a hoof along my flank, smoothing out the fabric that clung to me like a leech. I just wanted this moment to be over.
“There now, my beautiful daughter, don’t you look like a princess.”
She smiled at me. I couldn’t bear to look her in the face for more than the second it took to find that smile. Then she nuzzled at my cheek and laid a hoof around my shoulder. It was all I could do to keep from crying again. I managed to pull away before I completely lost it. Mother kept on smiling.
“Why don’t you play quietly in your room while mommy gets herself ready?”
I nodded my head and moped out the door. Walking slowly down the hall, the swish of fabric grated on my nerves. I managed to make it back to my room and planted myself by the window.
Staring out into the late afternoon sky, I couldn’t help but think about everything I was going to miss about this place. Ponyville was where I was born, where all my friends lived and played. How could some other city even compare? Most of all, I gazed out at the old barn—so many memories, both good and bad. How could I leave them all behind?
The sun dipped lower in the western sky. I could hear my mother’s approach long before her voice called for me to come join her for dinner. I obeyed. I was beaten, and I knew it. I had no say in the direction my life was turning. Carrot sticks and hay fries, my favorite meal, not even that could cheer me up. We ate quickly for no other reason than keeping the cart pony waiting for us any longer than he had to.
Mother helped me into the seat before settling in beside me. The driver took all the time in the world to pull us a mile down the road. Honestly, I could have beat him there three times over, even with my scraped up leg. Maybe he went so slow so that all the other ponies behind us could keep up. Anyway, it wasn’t a race, there was no prize waiting at the end. We reached the small clover topped hill a little before sunset and made our way toward the elm that guarded the peak.
From my seat in the shadow of that elm, I turned back to try and see who had joined us. It seemed like all the neighbors were there, my friends included. I gave a little wave, and they waved back. They looked as silly as I did, each in their own dress.
The Mayor sat next to my mom, one hoof resting on her shoulder while mom held me close against her other side. Most every pony there was wearing something fancy, which seemed odd to me at the time especially when you consider that most of them were farmers who probably only owned a single dress or suit. When everypony had gathered, the Mayor got up and said a few words. After she sat down, Apple Bloom’s sister got up and gave her two bits as well.
One by one, the other ponies paraded out in front of us, stopping to say hello and goodbye. Most had a tear in their eye, but my mother stayed strong like I knew she would. I had never been to a going away party before, but I knew I never wanted to go to another one. I hugged each of my friends as they passed, especially Apple Bloom since she was the closest pony I had to a real sister. It seemed like hardest thing I’d ever done saying goodbye to her.
Once everypony had said their goodbyes, we got back in the cart and headed home for the last time. Mother held me tight the entire ride. I looked up into her tired eyes and asked the one question I hadn’t been able to ask earlier. “Mommy, when we move to the city tomorrow, is daddy coming with us?”
“No, Honey. Daddy is staying here.” She pulled me closer and whispered into my ear. “But I promise we’ll come back and visit when we can.”
The cart turned up the lane and stopped in front of our house. Mother carried me inside and helped me out of the dress. I’ll never forget what she said as she tucked me into bed that night. “Everything will be alright.” It was the lie I needed to hear.
The next morning, I woke up, ate my breakfast bowl of oatmeal, and found myself in the back seat of the car almost before the sun came up. All my clothes and toys were packed in the trailer hitched up behind. Mom and I waved one last goodbye to the house and the farm before setting out for the highway. My mother taught me how to be strong and keep moving forward.
The entire ride to the city, I clung to the toy horse that my dad had given me for my birthday only a few days before. It all happened so fast, but I remembered the lessons he taught and all the stories he shared about the magical land of Equestria. It was his gift that helped me the most in life. Always be kind, generous, and loyal; be honest and share in the joy that life has to offer no matter what struggles you have to face. Even though he was gone, his lessons lived on. It may sound silly, but he taught me what it meant to be a pony. I’ll never forget that.
Truth be told, moving day wasn’t so bad. Letting go day was much harder.