Finding My Inner Strength

It was a beautiful morning in Canterlot. The puffy white clouds floated, in the out-of-a-painting blue sky. Ponies chatted and walked, while others...danced, or read books and bumped into poles. Like me. The bookworm. I shook off my head, and smoothed out my mane with my hoof. Sooo embarrassing. Ponies sideways-glanced at me, and then carried on. I sighed, not discontentedly and not happily.. It was hard being a weird-hybrid-pony. When I was in filly school, they thought it was amazing. Now, in my teenage years, not so much. Adult ponies stare at me. Kids gape at me. Others laugh while some ignore it. My mother always said I was her favourite. I had three siblings, all of which were unicorns in special magic schools. My mother was an alicorn, my father...not too much is spoken of him. All I know is that he was (was being the used word here) a powerful aviator Pegasus who once coached the Wonderbolts before Spitfire took over. If anything, he might have been a hybrid like me, or he might not have been.  Who knows? He mysteriously disappeared when I was only eleven, and after that things took a turn for the worse. My mother had to work full time, and guess who had to babysit? Eeyup. Me. But soon she was promoted to manager, and then the money came in. Now we have it all, as far as luxuries go. Y'know, gold carriages, expensive clothing, chocolate, the works. At least everything was ok for the time being.