The air inside the farmhouse was warm; the lingering scent of various animals hung in the air like a thick musk. Though it was an off putting smell, the occupants didn’t seem to notice it. Though it was quiet and most of the those inside were asleep, one mare by the name of Applejack could find no peace. The young mare tossed around in her bed sheets, her eyes clenched shut as she did her best to get comfortable. The day’s events played over and over in her mind, constantly reminding her that the next would be the same. Images of feeding animals and kicking trees played out endlessly; the mare’s frantic mind kept her from sleeping and made sure she stayed awake for more than she had to.

Rolling over, Applejack whined softly as she clamored for a means to sleep. She had tried drinking warm milk, she had tried going for a small nightly stroll, and she had even tried counting the stars outside in a vain effort for rest. Opening her bloodshot eyes, Applejack stared up at the bare ceiling at her wits end, ready to scream for someone, anyone, to help her sleep.

She turned her body again, rolling on her side; Applejack huffed in an annoyed manner but stopped when she saw a picture adorned in a small frame. Looking long and hard at it, she calmed down and stared at the family portrait of her and her parents. Looking right to her mother, a proud rodeo champ back in her prime, Applejack felt a wave of sadness starting to rise up in her body. It was her mother’s career that brought the mare’s life to a short end and the same reason her relationship with her father became… well, interesting.

Looking away from her mother, Applejack’s legs twitched as she saw the burly image of her father. He too was a rodeo performer, but after his wife's untimely death, he retired and became a shell of his former self. He would wallow away in his bed, constantly beating himself up for not being able to save his wife. His well-being started to crumble, and he started to care less and less about himself and the ponies around him. As depressed as Applejack and her father were, Applejack stuck by him and she was able to put a smile on his face every night when she could.

Closing her eyes, she let out a deep sigh and let her mind wander.

Thump.

Applejack’s eyes shot back open as she noticed the hallway light was on, thanks to the crack under the door. Looking at it, she noticed the shadow of a pony standing in front of it, waiting for her to give them the okay to enter.

“Hello?” Applejack said softly and quickly found that her voice was different… more young and scared of the unknown.

Looking at herself, Applejack noticed her body seemed smaller and the room seemed bigger around her. The scent of animals disappeared and quickly got replaced with the strong scent of liquor and cigars. She coughed, the scent not something she was very fond of in her youth.

“May I come inside, Applejack?” the figure behind the door spoke, causing the young mare to tense up with uncertainty.

“Papa?”

Her bedroom door began to creek open, showing the large figure of her father standing at it. Thinking her eyes were playing tricks on her, Applejack brought her hooves up and rubbed them before she brought them back down. The pony at the door smiled at her, though a bit tipsy for his own good.

“Hello, sweetheart,” the pony said as he trotted in and closed the door behind him. “How you holding up?”

“I’m fine, papa.”

The words came quickly and, though Applejack had planned to say something completely different, she calmed down and fell into a trance-like state. The mindset she entered reminded her of how she thought in her youth. Her thoughts became childlike and everything in the past few years before her father’s death started to play out as current memories.

“Sorry I didn’t say anything when you got home,” the stallion moved closer to the bed and raised one hoof up before resting it on the cotton blanket. “How was your day at school?”

“It was fine, papa. The teacher and other students were nice to me,” Applejack replied as she pulled her body up and sat upright. “No one’s been teasing me for being a blank flank after mom…”

Applejack turned away from him, another wave of depression sinking into her body, hesitant to say anything else. Feeling his daughter’s sadness wash over him, the large stallion leaned into his little girl’s cheek and gave it a gentle nuzzle. As his nose touched her, Applejack’s nose filled more with the scent of decaying teeth and hard liquor. Though it was heavy, Applejack knew it took lots to get her father really drunk and rather… destructive.

“I miss her too,” he said to her, his words carrying the lingering feelings of regret and self-hatred. “But she’s in a better place now.”

“I know. Granny told me we will see her again one day,” Applejack said as she rubbed a hoof across her eyes, feeling a bit of tears starting to come up.

“That’s… true,” her father replied as his expression deepened more. “But I fear she won’t forgive me.”

“Why? Is it because of me?” Applejack asked to him, hesitantly. “I only do it because it makes you smile. I’m sure mom would love for you to be happy and smile more often.”

Her father went quiet and part of him knew it was his own fault for her careless approach. The first time it happened, he flew into a rage, stating that it was wrong for a filly her age to be doing the things she did. She cried for sure, but even that didn’t stop her from wanting to make her father happy. Eventually he started to begrudgingly accept it, and much to his own horror, started to seek her out on the nights where he felt lonely and abandoned.

“That’s true, I guess,” the stallion said with a heavy sigh as he rested his head on the damp blanket. “It’s my own fault anyway.”

“Why you so sad tonight, papa?” Applejack asked. “Do you wanna to share the bed tonight?”

Her father was ready to interject and say no to her, but he stopped himself. He couldn’t say no; the craving for affection and love flooded his hazy mind, like a thick fog that refused to let him see clearly. In the end, the stallion just sighed, nodded his head, and then climbed onto the bed.

Scooting over for him, Applejack smiled and knew she would try extra hard to make him smile that night. She would wait for him to slip next to her body and let his warm coat brush against hers under the covers. She would wait until she felt it poking at her back and, once he said it was okay to start, she would roll over and… make him smile.

“You know I love you right, sugarcube?” her father said to her as she found him being more hesitant with his movements. “And even after I’m gone, I’ll still love you, right?”

“Of course, papa,” Applejack replied, naïve to the true meaning of his words.

Smiling at him, her father smiled back before he lowered his muzzle into her face. And just as their lips met...

Applejack woke up. Breathing heavily, Applejack’s frantic eyes darted around the room. Her father was gone, and she was her proper size again. The cigar and liquor fueled air was gone and the familiar scent of the farm greeted her nose.

“Damn,” Applejack huffed out as she rolled over to look away from the picture. “I was… so naïve and dumb back then.”

Staring at the wall, Applejack let out a pout as the rest of the scenario played out in her mind. She made her father happy, but it was also the last night he visited her. When she woke up the next morning, she found his body…

“No! Its… not my fault. Granny said it wasn’t my fault,” Applejack told herself.

While she was young and confused at the time, Granny Smith told her every day after her father’s suicide that it wasn’t her fault. Granny Smith would blame the liquor and say his mind wasn’t always in the right state. Granny Smith never once thought that they were sharing a bed together. She believed Applejack was the perfect, honest granddaughter and never, ever doubted her. That undeniable truth hurt Applejack more than anything else in the world.

It was the truth her grandmother needed to hear; the truth she told herself every day for countless years, and, if Applejack told her otherwise, it would break her fragile heart. Applejack couldn’t tell her and would carry her secret to her grave, even if it was in her nature to be honest.

A sharp tingle brought Applejack’s mind back down to earth and her legs fidgeted from a bit of wetness from her pussy. She stayed quiet, upset with herself for feeling that sensation. It was a feeling of longing that she despised and hated about herself. A few weeks after her father’s death, that familiar sensation came to her every night, telling her, mocking her of the troubled filly she once was. She would ignore it for the most part, but at the end of her struggle, Applejack would always give in and get rid of it the only way she knew how.

The only upside was that she would sleep easy afterwards.