This is my first ever text post. I am an author now.
Note: The parts 1,2,3 and 4 of this story are bleakbox/sadbox. But part 5, is nice, juicy, justified abuse.
Enjoy.
the story of B.
Part 1/5
B’s life starts when he is just a chirpy baby. Just like everyones lives. He is born in an alleywey. B was born without wings or a horn. He was a darkish green earthy with red eyes. He wasn’t that different from other foals. His mother was a dark pink fluffy, with even darker main and tail. She has dark pink eyes. The nest she lives in is not a very good nest, not even for a fluffy. It looks like it was built by someone who just wanted babies, but didn’t care about else. The nest was an old, worn out cardboard box with holes in it, and a small handfull of leaves and trash as the nest and floor. Not very much effort was put into it. But anyways, however, B’s mother was lucky.
“Biggest poopies”, B’s mother shouted. She survived giving birth, even though she has problems. This is where B’s life started.
B dropped, and landed. His first experience of the world wasn’t very positive. He and the other babies landed on a pile of poo. That was because his mother was too picky about moving. She was a selfish fluffy.
B lies in the poo with the other babies. His eyes hadn’t opened yet. He hears her mother speaking. “Mummah wub babbehs! Aww dah babbehs!” B didn’t understand any of that yet. But something in him rose a little dim glimmer of comfort. B can hear his mother turning around to face her babies. She suddenly stops as if she saw something out of the ordinary. She screams: “PWETTY BABBEHS!!!” She continues: “uu! dis babbeh am pwettiest! wook just wike mummah! dis am bestest babbeh!”. And so, B’s chanses of survival had been chopped in half. He would never get enough of the things he would need to be healthy. But his mother speaks again; “ew! babbehs smeww nu pwetty! nu wike babbehs! babbehs am stoopid”. and she left. Of course they smell. She gave birth to them, and they landed on her poo. But just like that. She left the things she wanted. And that she had sworen to protect, with no cost. And leaving her babies was her desision. Her concious decision. And the actions leading to that, were her decisions. Decisions, that she refused to acknowledge the value of. She thought only about herself.
A few of B’s siblings drowned in the poo. But some managed to crawl out. Including B. Even the “bestest babbeh” managed as well. It rained. The drops fell on the surviving foals through the giant holes in the cardboard. They took the smell away, but the drops were cold. And the wind made them worse. The foals would soon be too cold. And they would freeze. But B Heard a voice in the distance. It was her mother. She shouted and ran towards the foals. She shouted: “Bessy nu wike wawa! nee nestie to bee dwy! nu wike! nu wike! eeeee! Wawa nu feew god! am bestest!” She came crying back because she got a little wet. She ran as fast as she could. B’s mother sat down inside the box. She noticed the babies desperately wiggling their legs from the corner of her vision. She had a quick sniff. Her pupils dialated. She shouted something in happiness. She grabbed the “Bestest babbeh” with her teeth, and swang it infront of her “milky places”. Maybe a little too rough. The baby started bleeding a little from it’s neck. But it still whimpered towards the milk and started drinking.
B’s mother soon fed B too, but among the last. She didn’t feed the brown ones, nor the alicorn, though. The amount of milk that B got wasn’t much. Only a little. But enough to survive. His mother never looked B in the eyes while feedind, but when she eventually did, she had a frown. The “best baby” was always smiled at, and sang songs to. But often its mother was a little too committed in giving it the best treatment. B’s mother always forced the “bestest babbeh” to drink too much milk, saying that it is because the more milk it drank, the “bigger and stronger” it got. But what B’s mother refused to remember was how fluffy milk is often “too fatty and not ritch in protein.” The best baby could only drink milk. And only milk. While the other foals ate breadcrumbs and other “alleyway trash food.” This resulted in the best baby becoming fat, but not very strong. The other babies became stronger than the best baby, but they were very skinny. The mother had heard of the potential effect of fluffy milk on fluffy tv. But she refused to remember.
like always.
good luck my guy its gonna be rough.