Chapter 2

The following days were troublesome. Berry Punch had the letters, but was hesitant to share what she knew with her daughter, nor give her her letter. Pinch asked every day if her mother had tracked down her father, with no positive response.

Berry Pinch's fellow students were still just as rowdy and rude, however more towards the newly formed Cutie Mark Crusaders than her. Berry Punch's drinking buddies went their separate ways after a recent accident effected the drinking world. Some even went down the path towards sobriety like the normal ponies.

When asked about what she should do with the letters, Berry Punch's friends seemed to clam-up. It was a hard topic to speak about and few said anything after being asked. Though those that did all agreed, Pinch had to know.

Thus began the fateful day, in a long chain of events that would shape the lives of the Berry family.

Berry Punch came home late from her daily 'activities', her daughter was on the couch, examining the empty whiskey and vodka bottles leftover from the past few nights. Today was one of the few days Punch came home completely sober, and she didn't care for it.

"Pinchy, we need to have a chat. Go ahead and sit right where you are, I'll be back."

The filly did as was told, whilst Punch went upstairs to her own room, and picked up Pinch's letter.

"What I've got here is something your father wanted you to have." stated Punch whilst walking down the steps. "It's hard for me to tell you this, but he's gone. For good."

"What do you mean?" asked Pinch, confusion strewn across her face. "Is he dead? What do you mean by gone?"

"That's a story for another time, when you're older." stated Punch, handing her daughter the letter. "If you need any help reading this, just ask.".

Instantly the envelope was in shreds, the little filly was enthusiastic to have word from her father, even if it was the first and last.

The letter inside was perfectly devoid of the crumples and stains apparent in Punch's. On it were many apologies for not being there, and some simple words of advice, "be free". Not sure what any of it really meant or eluded to, Pinch put the paper on the coffee table across from her, and sat quietly.

The both remained quiet for a long time before Punch's slow maternal instincts finally kicked in, she gave her daughter a hug and made dinner for the two of them.

Without a word being spoken the rest of the night, the two sat together in the dark, until the little filly dozed off. Punch carried Pinch up to her room, and tucked the poor thing in, before returning downstairs to think about what she did over the remaining alcohol.

"It's tough being a parent." muttered the old drunk before passing out on the stairs going up.