“ . . . and ANOTHER thing! Don’t expect me to pick up your room! I don’t care if you don’t have enough time. MAKE some time! I’m not going to pick up any of your trash. Oh, and while we’re talking about trash, let’s discuss your flying . . .”

Fluttershy stared at the ground. Her mother towered above her, which made her look even more menacing than she already looked. The skinny yellow filly tried to block out her cruel, heartless voice, but she had no luck. It cut through her head, chilling her to the bone.

“ . . . can’t even get off the clouds. I can tell you, if you want to get a colt when you get older, you’d better learn how to fly—and fast. No colt wants a mare who can’t fly. And don’t tell me that you’re going to marry a unicorn, or—Celestia forbid!—an earth pony. You are going to keep this lineage going. Don’t launch into some lecture about how pony genetics don’t always work out that way, because I don’t care. We’re not going to take any chances. We don’t want another flightless pegasus like you . . .”

Fluttershy didn’t understand why her mother was always telling her not to do or say something. She barely said anything, so why did her mother get the idea that her daughter was going to suddenly start being rude? Then again, on her mother’s bad days, nothing she said made sense.

Most days were bad days.

“You’d better be listening to me,” snapped her mother. “If you’re not listening . . .” She left her threat hanging.

Fluttershy swallowed hard. “I’m listening,” she whispered, bowing her head so she wouldn’t have to look her mother in the eye.

“You’d better be. Oh, and speak up when you talk to an elder. It feels like you’re disrespecting me when you whisper like that. You don’t want to disrespect me, do you?” She didn’t allow Fluttershy to answer. “Oh, what was that? You do want to disrespect me? Well, if you’re going to disrespect me, it seems fair that I’m allowed to disrespect you.” She raised her hoof.

Fluttershy squeaked and backed away. “B-but, I don’t want to disrespect you . . . I didn’t mean t-to, Mommy . . . wait—”

A dark yellow hoof hit her in the face, just below the eye. Fluttershy cried out. She could already feel the bruise beginning to form. Her mother raised a hoof for another punch when there was a noise. They both froze.

“Celestia, I’m tired. There was an accident with the snowflakes breaking, and then there was a big order for a blizzard in Manehattan—” Fluttershy’s father broke off as he saw what was going on. His wife was standing over his only daughter with a hoof raised. His daughter was cowering and fighting tears with a big red mark under her left eye. He might not be the smartest pony in Equestria, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. His eyes widened. “Oh, Celestia.”

Many things happened at once. Fluttershy’s mother and father began yelling at the same time. In a daze, Fluttershy felt herself being picked up in her father’s strong arms. He raced up the stairs into her room, threw her onto her bed, and ran out. Before disappearing completely, he came back in and locked the door, then slammed it fiercely.

Fluttershy lay, trembling, on her bed. It grew dark, but she didn’t dare move until the yelling had ceased. When all was quiet, someone knocked on the door. She opened it a crack, in case it was her mother coming to hit her again. But a furious yellow mare didn’t greet her. A tired-looking blue colt looked down at her, exhausted.

“May I come in?” he asked. His voice cracked, as if he was going to cry. Fluttershy silently opened the door a little wider.

He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room for a while, unsure what to say. Finally, he sighed and sat down next to her on her bed. “I’ve enrolled you in summer flight camp.”

Fluttershy looked at him, startled. That didn’t seem to be the most important issue right now.

He elaborated. “Mommy’s been having a rough time. She needs some help right now, and it’ll take up so much time that we won’t be able to spend any time with you. So I’m enrolling you in flight camp—just for this summer. And if you want to spend more time there, we can enroll you year-round.” Fluttershy didn’t respond to this at all.

Her father exhaled. “Flutters, has this . . . has Mommy been hurting you like this for a long time?”

Fluttershy pondered how to answer this question. She knew that she should tell the truth, but sometimes a lie could be kinder. Besides, how long was “a long time?” A week? A month? A year? A thousand years? She slowly shook her head.

“Can you answer me out loud?” her father asked gently.

“Not a long time,” she said in a voice just barely above the sound of the night breeze outside.

They sat there for a while, her father struggling with what to say and Fluttershy wishing that she could just be alone. Eventually, he sighed and got up, slowly walking to the door. When he left, Fluttershy locked it. Maybe if she locked it, she would be free from all the terrible thoughts haunting her.

She crawled into bed. Before turning out her lamp, she looked at the picture on her nightstand. In it, her mother was laughing at something her father had said. Her lavender eyes were crinkled with happiness. She cradled something small, yellow, and delicate in her hooves—a baby Fluttershy.

She felt her throat tighten up as she looked at the picture. She ran her hoof over her mother’s face, then ran her hoof over her own. She winced when she touched the bruise. How was it possible that the laughing mare in the picture was the same mare who had yelled at her and hit her?

She looked at this version of her mother sadly. She turned off her lamp and used the light of the moon to continue staring at her. She often talked to the picture, hoping that her words would carry to her real mother. She said more to the picture than she did to real ponies! But tonight, she only whispered five words.

“You’re going to love me . . .”