Six Broken Ponies: Mother Dearest
~BlackRoseRaven
I love animals. They don't judge you, they don't do things without reason. They live in a way that's pure, and that's good, and connected harmoniously with the world around them. Even when the predator hunts and kills, there's always a reason behind it. Not a rationalization like we ponies do… but instinct. True reason, dictated by nature, not solely by cold logic, nor by raw emotions… but a fluid mix of both, like that perfect shade that exists between light and darkness.
Yes… animals are wonderful, and they're so much nicer than ponies. You don't have to raise your voice to get their attention, and you don't have to play their games just so they'll listen to you. They aren't complicated… and if you love and protect them, you know they'll treat you the same way in return. Not at all like ponies… who you can never be sure of, never quite predict, never truly know…
Even my friends, well. I like them, I'm very fond of them, and it's so very good that they're always around for me, when I'm so weak, so useless, so helpless… when I'm little more than the chickens and the rabbits I care for. At least Angel always motivates me to get things done, and I can't even do that for myself… but well, I get scared all the same. What if my friends don't actually like me? What if, in their heart of hearts, they feel the same way about me… that I do…
I've always known that I was useless and worthless after all. Oh no, don't get the wrong idea, it's perfectly okay… mother always made sure I knew my place. She loved me… she loved me dearly, even though I was useless. Why, she spent all that money to send me off to Cloudsdale's flight school, even though I'm such an awful flyer… and she spent all that money, to give me my own separate little residence. Isn't that what you do when you love someone? You do things for them… you make sacrifices…
I think that's the only sad thing about me being so worthless, so useless. My sacrifices are meaningless, because I don't have much to give up… I mean, certainly if I'm so worthless, then my time is worthless, too. It's why I'm always so willing to drop absolutely everything to help out a friend… because it's just the absolute very least I can do for them, and whether they really like me or not, I do enjoy their company. They make me feel… a way mother never did, despite how much I know mother loved me, despite how hard mother was always telling me she tried… even as she sat there in her beautiful den, smoking her cigarettes, the… dead animals all around her…
Oh, I'm so sorry. I forgot myself, I apologize… I hope you're not mad at me. I'm not worth it, after all… ponies sometimes get so upset with me, I see it in their eyes, and I really don't always understand why. After all, a useless little thing like me… what's the point? I've always felt that ponies should just ignore me when I get out of line…after all, that's what mother did. Just tuned me out… just turned herself off. But she always loved me… why, she even bought that nice little cottage for me in Ponyville, didn't she? That's love… isn't it?
And I'm happy there. Far away from everyone else… near the edge of the Evergreen Forest. It's where I belong, anyway… the outskirts of society, where I won't get in everyone's way, where I won't ruin things and where if something happens, it won't bother anyone else. No one needs to be bothered by my problems, after all… I'm useless. I'm worthless. I'm nothing… the only thing I've ever been able to do right is help the animals and take care of them. I love them so…
My friends are always there for me, taking care of me. They help me along every day, because I can never do anything myself, oh no. I'm far too weak and helpless, just like mother always said. And when my friends aren't there, don't have time for me, I'm always careful to be quiet and stay out of everyone's way… it's better for everyone that way after all, isn't it? Oh, yes, yes it certainly is. No one needs worthless little Fluttershy underhoof…
Besides, as it is, they spend so much time and effort on taking care of me… which makes me feel both awful and wonderful at the same time. Awful, because I'm just so useless… wonderful, because it's like they think I have value. They tell me such kind things… and at first, I thought they were mocking me, making fun of me. I would smile and pretend that I didn't think their comments were satiric, or sarcastic, or false, because mother always told me that if ponies were telling me that I had value, they were lying, and they were only interested in making me do something for them, eventually milking some debt out of me. Mother said she loved me even though I was nothing but a terrible drain on her… mother told me she wanted to protect me. That's why I was never allowed to leave the house… that's why I was sent away to Cloudsdale. That's why mother has always nurtured me and done everything for me…
And yet… was mother wrong about ponies? My friends… they say things that sound honest. I don't know how they could be telling the truth, when I'm useless, when I have no value whatsoever, when I can't ever do anything right… but they all tell me such kind things. They all share with me… they all seem to love me, even if just a little. Yet all the same, I'm wary of them. What if mother is right? How could anyone care about a worthless, useless failure like myself? All I can do is look out for animals that can do perfectly well looking out for themselves if they can… the lesser beings, the little beings. Even taking care of little fillies was too hard for me, and I almost got them all killed. It was all my fault… all my mistake. Mother would have been so upset with me… she would have had to punish me.
Mother hated punishing me, but she had to do it often, you know. To make sure that I understood I couldn't do anything right, to make sure I knew my place, and didn't put too much faith in the world around me. She always told me it was because she loved me, and wanted to protect me. She told me I was a mistake, but she was going to be responsible, and take care of me. She always cradled me in her arms, even when she had to punish me… and even though I was useless, she taught me to punish myself, because she knew that I would make mistakes when she wasn't around.
She called them the marks of shame. She said they were meant to be felt, but not seen… to always be a reminder that I'm worthless, and of what happens when I try too hard to be something I can never be, something other than a mistake, than a failure. She told me to never, ever let other ponies see, because in public, a pony must always appear to be in control, and must maintain a cultured demeanor, even a failure like me. The marks are always made in places where it's hard to see, and where ponies aren't supposed to look… inner legs, under the body, the secret, primitive places. Mother told me it's like this for everypony, but you never discuss it, and you never show it. She used to do it for me, until I was old enough to handle the knives and the razors and the tools and do it myself. She told me it was all a part of growing up, and she had to teach me to do it… because she loved me. Even though I was a mistake, a failure… she loved me, and she had to teach me to make things right.
The pain doesn't bother me as much anymore… and since mother told me it is very important I never, ever talk about these things, I can only assume that means I have to make more marks of shame whenever I make a mistake, whenever I show how worthless or useless I am… but in a part of me, a scary, deep part of me, I hope that it means I'm not just learning, but maybe… getting better. Maybe this is why we make these marks… so that one day, the pain fades completely, and maybe on that day, we don't have to make any more, disturb those wounds, let the scars heal and leave only their overgrowing trails and stretched white shadows behind. I can hope, anyway, that maybe one day I won't be worthless or useless… my friends tell me I'm not. My friends care for me so much… and I feel so awful I can't do more for them all.
And sometimes… I wonder if they're just like me. What scars they have, hidden under their bodies… what shame they carry. It's improper, but I wonder all the same, even though I have to punish myself every time I think these thoughts. I wish I could help them carry their burdens… I know they all have deep shadows, after all. Mother taught me to see that there was bad in everything, not only good, after all… mother taught me that there's a darkness in all of us, and we have to learn to suppress it, but I wonder if my friends had as good a mother as I did. She loved me so much. She protected me… even that one time, when I… made such an awful mistake. When I thought I'd done a good thing for her, made her a birthday card, and she told me I had just failed again… she had come to punish me, and I should have lain there and allowed it to absolve me of my failure, and yet I lashed out, so angry… because even inside me, there's darkness. There's part of me that feels… alien, extreme. I would call it animal, but animals live by instinct and nature and always do what they have to, in order to survive… why would I fight my own mother, why would I want to lash out so savagely? I have to be punished. I'm a bad girl. I'm a worthless pony. I have to learn my lessons if I want to live in this cruel, cold world.
Mother keeps promising to visit. She writes me letters now and then, and I always respond. She tells me when I don't write back quick enough, and she's kind enough to remind me of my mistakes when I make them, so I know better when to punish myself. She's always looking out for me, and she loves me dearly, and I'm very glad for it. She warns me not to trust my friends too much, just in case… and I'm careful to heed her advice. I'm not very smart, after all… mother makes sure to remind me of that, too. So I remember my place, so she can better protect me, of course… so she can keep me safe from the evils of the world. She always reminds me that no matter how much someone can seem to care about you… they can turn on you in a moment. Except for her, of course… she taught me everything. She loves me, even though I'm worthless. She takes care of me, sacrificing so much for me… for worthless, little me…
But what if she's wrong about them… sometimes… I think she might be, but the punishment I have to give myself for that is always much worse than the punishment I have to give myself for impure thoughts, when I wonder about what shadows and shames and burdens my friends carry and wear. Yet… I wonder all the same… although I never question that I am worthless, I've learned that as fact, still… why do they care? Why does it seem like they honestly like me… they even… love me. Why does it seem like they look out for me… no matter what happens, why do they feel that I have… value… when the opposite is so true?
Still… even if they do care about me… even if, for some strange reason, they even think that I'm… worth something… it doesn't change anything. I'm worthless, and useless, and can't do a single thing right. That will never change… and you can't trust anyone, except for the animals that wear their hearts on their sleeve… and mother, of course. Mother loves me.
Mother loves me. Mother watches out for me. Mother is the only person I can trust. I love her. I have to punish myself now… I've been thinking evil thoughts, and mother would want me to make sure I punish myself for it. Yes… it's time for the worthless pony to remind herself of her place… just like my mother would want me to, so the world can't hurt me… because mother loves me… mother protects me… and mother knows best.