One Day Like This

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Let this monotonous noise end.

I just moved into this town and am relatively happy being away from my family in Cloudsdale, especially after the events that occurred. I never had the drive my parents did, the athleticism, the spirit, or the motivation. I never was one for sports. My child life was a painful, sad experience.  I was born a little different. I had wings that weren't wings, they were like steel plates inside a mold. It looked like someone put them there, almost as if to ruin my life. The bases of them were black and their plate-like form was kinda scary. It kinda creeped me out as a little kid seeing wings that weren't of feathers. Every year I grew, I had to get them surgically removed and a bigger model placed on. I had a dream when I was younger, and that was to be as athletic as my parents. Then came the day when I got my Cutie Mark. Most ponies think of that as the best day of their life, but not so much with me. When I got my cutie mark, it was from when I drew my first picture, of my Mom, Dad, and me. They were as shocked as I, being a Pegasus, that's not what our family was meant to do. For centuries upon centuries, our family were great athletes. We had relatives in the Wonderbolts for crying out loud. We're meant to be athletic, not some rinky-dink artist. My parents were lenient with my athletics,though, but I always felt left out because they were always doing physical activity. I could never do that. Of course, when I went back to school, I got immediate criticism. I'll never forget that day, being the worst day of my life, even worse than my accident a few years later. Having all of the people you know tell you that your life goal isn't for you hurts. It hurts really bad. I never went back to school, I just drew and my parents taught me what they knew. A couple years later, I was attacked by a vampire pony. I couldn't help at my age to be scared. He tackled me down. I felt the pain pang through my neck as I lost vision and fainted. I awoke several days later to see my parents lying beside me, eyes watery and horrible, sad noises coming from their mouths. I leaned over to recall the events to be told a tragedy that meant for my suffering of no wrong doing. I was always a good child. I did my chores and respected my parents. I had done no wrong that I could see, and now I'm going through the pain of eternal life, having to watch history fly by, and see the ones you love die.

I prefer to draw, I'm called Scribbler for a reason. I just sit in my room, in the loneliness and just wait for somepony to come by. Somepony who can make me feel special. Somepony who will accept me, no matter my incident. Now, of course, I live in Ponyville. Ponyville is a nice place with friendly ponies and many others. Of course I'm the only one that stands out, being the depressing, lifeless shell of a pony that I am. The room was dimly lit as usual, my desk lamp shinging onto the paper. I scribbled away onto paper my feelings once more, then heard the doorbell ring. That was a rarity alone, to hear it ring, but what was even rarer was who was there. None other than my favorite musician of all time. The one and only, Vinyl Scratch.