Illusions
Chapter 1: Behind the mask
“I hate you! I hope I never see you again!”
Journal entry: 1 week missing.
It’s been a week since you left, and I’ve cried every single day that you’ve been gone. I keep waking up in the middle of the night with the very last words you said to me haunting me in my sleep. I’ve had a lot of time to think about what was said that night, and you were right; I was being too hard on you. I only wanted to protect you after that one event. Everypony deals with hardship differently, I just didn’t want to lose you.
I did a great job of making you want to stay, didn’t I?
I’m so sorry, I just want my little girl back.
“I hate you! I hope I never see you again!”
Journal entry: 1 month missing.
I’m so worried for my little girl. I have nightmares about her lying on the side of the road, nothing but skin and bones under a tattered cloth that wouldn’t even pass for a blanket. What kind of father am I? I did all I could for her, I loved my little girl. It’s not easy being a single father. We both were heartbroken when her mother; my wife, passed away. Nothing was the same after that. I wonder if things would be different if I had not clung so strongly to the only thing dear to my life.
And now that too is gone.
I remember how she loved the stars, she would cling to my side as we walked under the night sky before bedtime. She would always ask me what everypony meant by “becoming a star”, and every time I would tell her that it was becoming somepony that everypony would recognize. I loved the look on her face when she was out there in the night air with me. I could see her imagining what it would be like to be a star. I always supported that dream of hers; everypony deserves to dream.
I just wish that my dreams weren’t of her saying she doesn’t love her own father.
“I hate you! I hope I never see you again!”
Journal entry: 2 months, 3 weeks missing.
She’s gone, she’s been gone so long but I’ll never let myself forget her. I know that she’s out there doing well for herself; she was always a clever one.
What am I doing? Lying to myself? Trying to justify her well being out there? I drove her out and I know it. She was fragile from her mother’s death and I thought she needed me to be there for her, but I overdid it.
I remember the days when she would call out for “daddy” to help her reach her toys, or help her practice magic. Now all I remember are those accursed words; the very last words I ever heard from her before she disappeared from my life.
“I hate you! I hope I never see you again!” She said. Maybe we never will see each other again. I wonder if she thinks about me, I wonder if she knows the torment I go through every day thinking of how she’s doing on her own; or at least, I used to wonder...
Now I’m haunted by the fact that she’s better off without me. I’ve stumbled across a flyer on a wall with her face on it. A showpony, I should have guessed she would have gone that route considering what she always dreamed about. Still, I can’t decide how I feel about what I’ve found. On one hoof I’m incredibly glad that she’s not lying in a gutter somewhere with an empty stomach and a heart full of broken dreams. But at the same time I wonder if I should go beg her forgiveness, ask for her to forgive a short-sighted father for being so blind to what she really needed.
No, I don’t think I will. I brought this upon myself. She doesn’t need me anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop loving her. Maybe I’ll turn this journal into a scrapbook of sorts.
“I hate you! I hope I never see you again!”
Journal entry: 8 months, 5 days missing.
I’ve long since run out of space in my other journal to keep clippings of posters and newspaper articles about my little girl, my Trisha.
I’ve grown to hate living in this house. It’s filled with far too many happy memories that only serve to make me remember things I wish I could forget, but cannot let myself regret. Holding onto the hope that she remembers me is something I dream of; the only thing I dream of these days is to have a night where I don’t hear her cursing my existence.
I don’t like why I’m writing this entry, it’s entirely selfish. But if I don’t write, I’m going to lose sight of why I hold on.
Why did I have to mess up so hard?
Today was “bring your colt/filly” to work day. Trisha isn’t really “little” anymore, she’s a mare in her own right. But she’s still my filly and she loved coming to the arcano-quarter for these days. I still remember bringing her into the observatory for the very first time. So many questions of “What does this do? What is that daddy? Can I see, please?”
I had to watch everypony else’s kids run around asking their parents the same questions she asked. I can’t believe it still hurts so badly even after all these months. I thought that the pain would subside over time, at least a little bit. I was wrong; I was so wrong, I can’t even look at a family anymore without choking on tears.
One of the kids was wearing a cape like Trisha’s. I’d be a wreck if I didn’t have friends that would let me lean on them. The last time I cried so hard was when I got the news of my wife’s death. It feels like my entire family is dead now since they’re never around. I’m falling apart, but all I want is for her to have a father worth coming home to. I have to keep myself together until then.
I will always love her, even if she can’t say the same.
“I hate you! I hope I never see you again!”
Journal entry: 1 year, 2 months, 13 days missing.
Trixie.
You changed your name to Trixie.
I cannot tell you how frustrated I am that you would do something like that. Do you hate me? Do you want nothing to do with me? Are you just trying to forget? I don’t know what’s going through your mind, but I feel so angry right now. I still love you Trisha, a father will always love his filly no matter what they do. Even if it drives him insane.
I went for a walk tonight to clear my mind. Canterlot nights are always good for suppressing my quick temper. I hate the thought that you might be trying to shed all ties to me. I can’t even begin to wonder what your mother would think if she was still with us. I remember wanting to name you Nova, but your mother was insistent that your name be Trisha. Did I tell you that? I can’t remember if I did. I probably didn’t, I probably should have told you after your mother passed away. Regardless, whether you knew what you were doing or not, it doesn’t hurt any less.
It hurts that you would throw something like that away.
Thats how I found out, I found a poster with your face on it. Something that somepony would just “throw away” carelessly. “The Great and Powerful Trixie: performing tomorrow in the Manehattan Event Center at 7pm!”. I picked it up and simply stood there, looking into the unmistakable eyes of my little girl claiming to be somepony else. I wanted so badly to get a guard and bring you home. I wanted so badly to take a train to Manehattan, jump on the stage, and hug you until security dragged me away. I wanted so badly just to know that you still cared about or even remembered where you came from.
But that’s not for me to decide anymore. You can make your own decisions now; you’ve been making them and doing fine for more than a year now. It’s selfish to think that you need me now, but a father letting go of his daughter...
It’s very hard, I wish I could forget you as easily as you forgot me.
“I hate you! I hope I never see you again!”
Journal entry: 2 years, 1 day missing.
I was at your show today.
I lied before, standing in that crowd was the single hardest thing I’ve ever done.
You were beautiful, just like your mother. You commanded an audience with nothing but presence, just like me. You showed real talent for show tricks, I could easily see why you became so popular so quickly. In the course of two years I’ve gotten newspaper clippings, posters, pictures, and ticket stubs of you performing everywhere from Fillydelphia to Los Pegasus.
I never thought that being a mere thirty feet from you would hurt more than having a proverbial eternity between us.
It was a fantastic show, lights, flowers, cheering, and approval. Everything you always wanted when you were a little filly. No father could be more proud than I to see you living your dreams, Trisha. I could see the joy in your eyes as you were up on that stage; you were alive, you were happy.
Even when you looked right at me, you didn’t pause for a moment.
I guess I should tell you why it was the hardest thing for me to just stand there. It hurt because I saw how happy you are, and I only wanted you to have a good life and be happy. It was the hardest thing in the world to accept that you were totally fine without me. But I do, even though that doesn’t change the fact that I will never stop thinking of or remembering you.
…
Journal entry: 2 years, 11 months, 14 days missing
My dreams have stopped waking me in the middle of the night. I still dream about you, but through a grey veil of reality that doesn’t feel alive at all. I frequently wonder where you are lately. I haven’t seen a poster or flyer with your face on it in months. I’d give anything to see a poster with your smile on it. The “Trixie” thing doesn’t even bother me anymore, I actually got over that pretty quickly. I think that seeing you happy did wonders for me. I did my job and made sure you had a life you loved.
I wish I could say I lived life with no regrets though. I was never the father you needed, and I still wonder what would have happened if I acted differently all those years ago. Would you still be here by my side to share in Hearth’s Warming Eve with me? Maybe. But then I wonder if being a perfect father would have kept you from pursuing your dreams. I find myself conflicted moreoften than not about the choices I’ve made. I frequently wonder what you would say to me if I ever got to see you one last time. I’d deserve anything you threw at me to be honest; I deserve it. No matter how many times I see it happening, I just don...
…
Journal entry: 2 years, 11 months, 15 days missing.
I find myself wondering about fate sometimes. What really causes astrological predictions to coincide with historical events? What forces lie behind the meeting of two lovers and the first glance they share? How does destiny weave itself to bring a long lost daughter back home?
I was used to ponies knocking on my door Trisha, but I had given up all hope of ever seeing you again. You looked ashamed, tired, dirty, hungry, cold; but none of that mattered to me.
All I saw was the beautiful daughter that I thought was gone from my life forever.
I couldn’t believe the stories you had to tell, and how you ended up on my doorstep. I felt so proud of you for how courageous and independent you were all those years. How scared you were, how guilty you felt about leaving me,and how you worried about what your mother would have thought of your actions. All of your pain and worry hidden under a mask; an illusion. You told me how you became arrogant and haughty. It hurt me a little to hear about you behaving like that. Though that pain was quickly abated when you told me of the events that led you back to me; how one pony got you to think of what was truly important to you.
Then you tried to beg for my forgiveness, but I wouldn’t have it. You had done nothing wrong, I was always the one who pushed you far too hard. I’m just glad that this “Twilight Sparkle” was able to save you from that Ursa Minor and let you come back to me. I couldn’t ask for a better Hearth’s Warming Eve gift.
I know that show magic is your talent, and you will always love the thrill of travel and the open road. So I’m going to help you get back on your hooves.
After we celebrate the holiday season, together.
…
Journal entry: 1 day since last visit.
I’ve enjoyed the last few days spent with you. I wish it could have lasted longer, but some things never change. It warmed my heart to see your adventurous spirit was one of those things. I remember how I lent you a couple hundred bits to buy a new wagon and outfit and you protested vehemently. It’s your dream and what you’re happiest with doing. I wanted you to be happy, Trisha, never forget that I’m always here for you if you need somepony to help you get back up.
I hope that when you leave this time you remember how hard it is for a father to let his daughter go. Sometimes it keeps him up all night; tossing and turning with a broken heart, a pounding head, and teary eyes. I know all this from experience.
One thing you also need to remember is that I will always love you, no matter what. I would gladly suffer sleepless nights every night if it meant you could be happy. Because that’s what love is.
Though you know what, Trisha? I think I’m going to actually enjoy falling asleep tonight for a change.
“I’ll come visit again soon! I love you Dad!”