The Mark Test

chapter one

Pinkamena awoke to the steady drip of water against her forehead, hitting so that each drop brought an ache in her mind. Or maybe it was just the unbearable hunger that knawed at her insides like a full grown Manticore. Whatever it was didn't matter to her at all.
It just made Pinkamena want to curl up against the cold stone ground and give in the the oblivious dark blanket called sleep. But she know she couldn't do that, not ever, or it meant worse than the night spent here, in the little rock cave. It meant days without food, without any warmth, or roof overhead, but not without the switch.

The angry red welts that so often burst open the filly's forelegs were a reminder. A reminder that she was nothing, was always going to be a worthless nothing.
And dare she defy and stand up for herself, dare she say something to her betters-down came the switch on her. But Pinkamena never learned, the filly would never relent to the outside world. That was the only thing that kept her going in the day, what made her willing to live on. The definance she found in her soul, the spark that she hoped to retain, so that her parents and everypony else knew they hadn't won quite yet.

Pinkamena had spirit, and no matter how rebellious it was, nopony would take it from her. She heaved a sigh. Oh, she had some spirit all right, but what a solemn little foal she was, they all said. How depressed and serious could such a young filly be? Well, she had said smiling sweetly at quite the pompos mare, 'It isnt very hard you see, when i have been adopted by the most horriblely solemn ponies you could imagine.

And when they suck all the fun out of life, it is quite hard (smile grower much too large) and everyone exspects nothing out of me, and holds me as a simple common earth pony. So thank you for asking but that is how serious i can be.' That had earned the spit-fire filly a great switching that had spelt out to the world her misdeed. Never speak back to the other races, exspecially with a tone.

But there were a few things that brought Pinkamena happiness, a warmth in her chest that was usually taken away be the frosty bite of reality. Her adoptive sisters, though just as plain and boring as the rock farm itself, knew how harsh their parents were, and had an unspoken agreement of trust and comfort for each other. When ever Pinkamena could no longer hold back the tears from falling, they would be by her side, concealing each other from the wrath of the guardians until the time passed. Limestone amd Marble were nice of course, but they would never understand Pinkamena like the way Maud did.

Maud, the eldest one, with her monotone voice, would lull Pinkamena to sleep with her many rock poems, no matter how tired Maud was herself. She had a sort of solidness, well, like a rock, which was a protective wall for little Pinkamena. She could always count on Maud. The last thing that Pinkamena would say had ever helped here through her struggles would be the necklace. It was the shape of a heart, cool and smooth to the touch, and a shade of cyan the the filly liked to think matched her eyes perfectly. When ever she touched it, Pinkamena would feel a sort of fire, warm and steady, burn in her heart. And for a second she would feel safe, and loved, as if her parents were watching over her and smiling sadly.

Granite Pie (her mother of which she would never call Mom) had told her quite distastefully, that she had been left at the doorstep with the necklace wrapped around her hoof, and decided to let the baby have it. Pinkamena knew it was the only connection to a happy life she would ever have. So she wore it every single day, not once taking it off since the time it was put on. Obviously, this was to cause tension. When Pinkamena ventured out to the store to buy milk and bread, ponies would stare and whisper, smug and horrified expressions plastered on their face. Earth ponies were not rich.

They did not get accessories or items of pleasure. They merly exsisted, and some agured they should at that. Earth ponies were the lowest race, the one with no power or talent, farmers forced to work the fields for the upper class. How it disgusted Pinkamena. Thus, there was always a young colt or tough filly unicorn attempting to steal her necklace, and strip it away from her neck. And Pinkamena had no choice but to fight hoof and tooth for her possesion, which ended her up almost in jail.

It was never a pleasent trip to the market, with their dissaproving eyes and watchful stares. Earth ponies were simple. They knew nothing. They are slaves. Those were the whispers dancing on Pinkamenas ears, the signs that pegasi tacked up for all to see.
Well, Pinkamena wasnt allowed to go to school, so who were they to judge? The filly already was sharp as a knife, but yearned for an education to rub in the nobles face. Her whole family suffered without learning, shunned from society. The whole world was unfair in the foals eyes.
As a result, Pinkamena kept her necklace close at all times, and always looked a pony straight in the eye. Someday, something was gonna change for the bettter, and Celestia and Luna would personally see Pinkamena be the trigger. If only that something would happen, because Pinkamena was tired of staring at the cave celing. There was a lot of work to be done.