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Emmy

by Selbi

Chapter 1: Emerald Sky

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Here is an audio draft of the story's first part. I highly recommend to check it out!


My name is Emerald Sky. Most ponies just call me Emmy, though. Well, at least the few who would call me anything other than worthless orphan or thief that is.

I’ve been living in Manehatten since I was born, but my life wasn’t always like it is today. My mother passed away only a few hours after I came into this world, and my dad left her long before that. I lived in an orphanage for the first seven years of my life. Not having any real parents to take care of me was never really a problem as I’d never met either of them, and my caretakers were always very nice to me.

Until that fateful day… One of the caretakers died in an accident, leaving the orphanage understaffed. There were too many foals to take care of, so a few of us had to find an alternative. Some were moved around to other orphanages in neighboring cities, some even had the good fortune to be adopted and live a normal life!

But I was not as fortunate as some of the others. A life in a house made from cardboard boxes, nestled in a dark alleyway between a few shops—that is the life I’m currently living. The only way for me to stay alive is either by begging or… stealing. Most of the time I went without anything to eat, though. Because of that I’m sick most of the time, and that makes it hard to find work. Besides, who wants to let an eight-year-old unicorn filly do anything in their business?

Well, that is if you can even call me a unicorn. Often times ponies confuse me with an earth pony. That’s hardly a surprise, though. I’m suffering from a disease that slows down the development of my horn so much I was told that I may never be able to use magic. That small stub I have on my forehead doesn’t even allow me to lift a feather, whereas the other unicorn foals back at my old orphanage already mastered levitation.

So here I am, trying to live this life one day at a time, hoping that tomorrow I have a sun to say hello to again.

I move around in my makeshift bed of old newspapers and an old pillow I found in the trash, and turn the radio on. This alleyway doesn’t really have anything other than a few trash containers, but at least there are power outlets in here. Why? I don’t know, but nowadays I’m thankful for anything that helps me make my dark days a little brighter.

That wouldn’t be an easy task today, considering how dark the sky is. There is not a single break in the clouds, and I know it’s going to start raining any minute.

I tune the radio to the only station it can receive: Heartstrings FM, a station that limits itself to soft and cheerful melodies. I think I’m very lucky that at least this one station is receivable.

Slow, happy strings start to come from the old speakers, along with a bit of fuzzy distortion. This is the norm for me, but the distortion grows louder and louder. Then I notice the first drops of rain falling down.

“Stupid pegasi… Why did they have to make a rainstorm today?” I ask myself. But I know it’s pointless. The rain won’t stop because of pathetic, little me. But still, it means another night without music, and probably another morning with a cold.

I move my makeshift bed into the housing I made out of cardboard. Usually I just sleep under the stars, but on rainy nights I at least try to keep the water away from me while I rest.


The one benefit of being a weak, homeless filly is that you have the ability to sleep no matter how much noise there is around you. You are almost always too exhausted to complain about your situation.

I slip out of my completely drenched cardboard home and look to the sky. A weak smile forms on my face as I see the sun up in the sky with a little rainbow in its halo.

“Achoo!” My smile fades away as I realized what this day would mean for me: lots and lots of sneezing. But I can’t just stay at… home like normal ponies, I have to find food and something to drink that isn’t rainwater. I wipe my nose with an old towel I found in the same trash container I had found the radio in. Thankfully, the rain washed it pretty well, although it’s still a bit wet.

I make my way to the market. Most of the ponies there won’t give me anything, if they even recognize me. My voice is very weak because of my constant illnesses, and that makes it hard to talk through the loud noise around there.

As I look down to the ground while walking to the market, I notice a flyer that gains my interest. “Manehatten searches for the next Karaoke Champion!” I read out loud. I don’t consider myself a good singer, namely because of my torn voice from the weather, but I still enjoy it and do it whenever my throat allows me to. Which isn’t often, but that’s okay.

I walk back to my pseudo house and put the flyer away. Then I finally walk to the market.


As expected, the place is so overcrowded it’s a wonder I can even make my way through it. That means most of the vendors don’t even notice me, let alone give me anything, but I still try my luck with all of them.

I approach the apple stand and speak to stallion working there.

“H-hello? H… hello?”

“Beat it, kid. There’s nothing for you here,” he bluntly replies without even taking a closer look at me.

“P-please, sir… I’m… so cold and hungry… C-can you please spare an apple?” Some ponies have a weak heart and can’t resist helping an innocent and helpless filly, so sometimes I try make myself look worse than I really am. However, pretending your life is a gigantic pile of doodoo when in reality it’s still a big pile of doodoo doesn’t make me feel much better.

“Look, kid, some of us have to make a living in this city,” the stallion says, once again without taking any closer look at me. It’s obvious I won’t get any donations here, but I can’t give up.

“P-please?” I say once again, trying extra hard to put emphasis on the fact that I’m tired and sick. Thankfully, a rather heavy cough comes from my throat and I try my best to make it sound as heart melting as possible.

“No money, no grocery.” So much for the melting hearts.

“But… but… it… hurts…” I say weakly. That’s not far from the truth, as this cough really is one of the worse kind.

I expect another remark from the stallion, but this time he ignores me completely and moves his attention to a customer. This is my chance; I grab an apple and run away.

“Hey, kid! Get back here! Thief, thief!” I hear the stallion shouting behind me.

“I’m sorry!” I scream, although I’m not sure if he really heard me. I’m really sorry. Stealing doesn’t feel right, but if it meant not having to have an empty stomach for an entire day, it’s all I could do.

“Stop that filly!” But nopony pays attention to me.


I arrive at my alleyway completely exhausted. As far as I can tell, I was alone and there aren’t any ponies who followed me to this place. I’m alone... Again.

My house recovered pretty well from the rainstorm. The cardboard had almost completely dried, which means I don’t have to go finding new ones later today. I sit down and turn on the radio. Then I bring out the apple I… stole, and take a bite.

For a brief moment I feel like nothing matters anymore, like all my fears and worries are being washed away by the water inside the apple and the soft music coming from the radio. This is usually the highlight of the day, so I want to make the most out of it. I still regret that I had to steal to come to this point, but that doesn’t matter for me right now.

Between a bite I notice a familiar tune coming from the radio. Acoustic guitars strumming a simple melody with a little bit of bass in the background. This song doesn’t have any clear connections to me, but I still like to sing to it, if only because of its simple message and text.

“Mama said it won’t be easy, to take the long way of life,

As a child it was so funny now, but things turn to the bad side.

It is dark in the city jungle, to earn the cash, to stay alive,

But there is one thing I can tell you, listen to your heart and to your mind.

In this world we’re living, seven days a week.

In this world we’re living, seven days a week!”

Tears start to form in my eyes. Whether it’s because I’m sad or happy, I’m not too sure. All I know is that there’s always one thing that helps me cheer up a little: knowing that I’m not the only one.

Author's Notes:

Written after Cider Barrel hit me up with this short yet amazing audio skit. Who knows? Maybe this longer story will get a radio play as well?

The song at the end is from my brother's old band, from a song called Seven Days A Week.

One thing to note: This story may be marked as Complete, but based on the feedback I may or may not continue it. I know OC stories aren't well appreciated by some people, so I'll just see what the overall opinion is. Comment if you want to see this continued!

Next Chapter: Apple Joe Estimated time remaining: 22 Minutes
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