Reflections of a Life

by NoblePonyLegacy

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Tragedy, DJ P0N-3, Sad
Length: 2492

Vinyl writes about her sad and tragic life

Vinyl reminiscences about her life: from a filly to an adult mare. She writes how a pony could go from a high to a low without themselves even knowing, much less anypony else.

Published 2016-03-08 02:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-03-08 02:00:02 UTC

A Mare's Tragic Life

Life is difficult. That’s all there is to it. It gives you ups and downs and all you can do is just go with it. Some ponies might say you just have to learn how to be content with what you have, but that’s easier said than done. Some ponies might ask why I hold such a bleak worldview. I would tell them that I disagree; I’m an optimistic realists: I know that reality doesn’t always give you what you dream for, but you should know that you can always make the best of a situation. And here is why I believe that:

I was born into an upper middle class family. We didn’t have everything we wanted, but it was much more than we needed and we were very comfortable. My parents were always supportive of me whether it was with sports, school, music, friends; they were good parents. When it was time for me to start school, they sent me to the best boarding school in Equestria. My mom was against the idea, sending such a small filly away from his parents, but my dad was insistent, telling her that I will be able to achieve great things with the right education. So my mother caved in and sent me away.

Although I was used to being a part of the wealthiest families I know, I was shocked to see myself as one of the poorest. Most of my classmates were from the top five percent, and the gap was larger than I thought it was. But only a few of them made fun of me for my lack in wealth, a great majority didn’t seem to care. While at school I found a group of ponies that were driven, diligent, and trustworthy and all had high hopes and dreams. A few of them wanted to go into politics, a few wanted to go into business, but only one other pony, besides myself, wanted to go into music. As the first year progressed, we became close and closer friends. They never judged me for wanting to go into music, in fact, they supported my decision.

We continued being friends even when high school came around. Although we couldn’t spend as much time as we could before, due to the raise in the amount of work we were given and we all wanted to exceed at academics, we remained close. During one of the breaks, one of my friends suggested that we go out drinking. Now, we were all smart and decided that we were smart enough to drink a reasonable amount, even if we were under the age limit. So we went out, got a few drinks, and brought it to my friend’s house. At first I was hesitant, but then I gave into the temptation. My friends and I only drank one glass each, which didn’t even make us tipsy, so we thought that there wouldn’t be any consequences to our actions. As the second year of high school progressed, we went out drinking more and more. We never got drunk, except for one of my friends who was somewhat of a lightweight, and never got caught. We also where beginning think about what specific careers we wanted. Although I knew it was unconventional, I wanted to go into techno and experimental music. The other pony who wanted to go into music, Octavia, wanted to go into classical music. Not many ponies know this, but I always thought it was kind of cool of her. She would be practicing her cello for hours a day, while remaining one of the best students in the class; I always kind of looked up to her. I thought of joining her a few times, but I could never stand having such a fixed and restricted music. I liked the idea of doing something different.

During our junior year, I started to compose music and perform it in front of my school. Everypony was getting into it, that I started to get calls from local clubs asking if I could DJ for them some nights. So I started to perform in clubs, parties, and school events. I knew that my parents also wanted me to put my education above everything else, so I did have my limits. During these gigs that I had, I would constantly be offered drinks, which I took but still in moderation. I knew that getting drunk once could ruin my life. Then during my senior year, things started to get intense. I started to look for colleges that would help me with my music, but I didn’t really find any. But I soon found that I didn’t need to find colleges because I was getting large amounts of scholarships from all over. I wasn’t the smartest pony in my class, but I was within the top ten percent, something my parents were proud of. I always thought that I would go to college, get a music degree and then go from there, but one letter made me rethink that. It was from a music producer who had heard my work and said that he might be interested in trying me out. The letters went back and forth, and I finally decided to go to a music college near the headquarters of the music label. So I went through all the scholarships that I put into a pile and found the college. I wrote them a letter back and within a few days they had offered me a full ride with housing, food, and other living expenses. This shifted much of the pressure of doing well in school off my shoulders and I was playing in clubs more and more. But I still knew that I couldn’t ruin my chances so I would refuse more than one drink and any form of drug or sex.

So I graduated and I left to go home to my parents. After a few days with them, I packed up my things and moved to Manehatten Music School. I enjoyed the city life and everything it had to offer. I went to the producer and started to talk with him. He said that he wanted somepony who could do something who would appeal to ‘the rebels’. Most of the music he did before was pop and although it was popular, he wanted to have more variety. He then gave me a contract and I signed it right there. And thus began my life as a professional DJ.

I dropped out of college a few days later, much to the disappointment of my parents. At first, many ponies in the label were cautious of me, worried that I would be a flop. I worked hard and started to make some pretty good music. More so than that, I was beginning to make quite a bit of money, as well as a name for myself. The producer didn’t think that my actual name would appeal enough to the intended demographic, so he gave me the name Vinyl Scratch, or VS. I didn’t think much about it, but that name started to change me. For the first couple of years as a professional DJ, I didn’t drink too much or do anything to ruin what I had. But at one party that I was invited to somepony gave me a drink with something in it, and I can’t remember what happened that night. All I can remember was waking up, feeling like crap, and lying next to a colt who I was holding. As I came into work, late, I found that all the other ponies there were showing pictures of me that I can’t remember doing. After a good laugh, one of them came up to me to give me a pill for my headache and I decided that it wasn’t my fault it happened and I just have to be more careful. Well, a week after that event, I was invited to another party. Knowing what happened last time, I didn’t accept any drink from anypony and got mine from the bartender. While having my drink, a really attractive colt came up to me and we started to talk. I soon found myself in a relationship with him, though I made sure that we never went too far. As this was going on, my name became bigger and bigger and I was about to go on my first tour around Equestria. The night before the tour, I invited my boyfriend to my house so that we could have dinner. He brought an expensive bottle of strong alcohol and wanted to celebrate with me. Being the fool that I was, I started to drink and drink until both of us started to lose our commonsense. I woke up to find myself in a position similar to the one before, but this time, I didn’t feel bad for it. I looked down on him and gave him a kiss on the forehead and left.

While I was on the tour, I started to have difficulty sleeping, so one of my friends offered my some pills to help me sleep. I thought that I wouldn’t have to take them once my tour ended, so I was safe. I was also starting to drink regularly, though never losing my senses like before. After my tour ended, I tried to stop taking the sleeping pills, but found that I couldn’t sleep without them, so I decided that it was now just a necessary part of my life. I also tried to cut back on how much I was drinking, but I felt like I was losing a vital part of me, so I continued drinking whatever amount I was. I called my boyfriend once I had time to see if he wanted to eat dinner, but he said she wasn’t interested. I found this strange so I went to her house and found him cheating on me with some mare that I never met before. I left her house in a fit of anger and once I got home I tried to forget about her with my drink. It helped for the while I was passed out, but as soon as I woke up and took a few pills for my headache, it all flooded back to me again. I had to go to work in a few hours, so I called my friend to see if he had anything to get me through the day. We met up outside our label’s building, and he gave me whatever it was. After half an hour, I was feeling better and started to work as much as I usually do. If my producer thought anything was wrong with me, he did a good job of hiding it. I think he didn’t really care what I did, as long I was earning him money.

After a few more years, I was being to get depressed. When I was being honest with myself I knew I was an alcoholic, totally dependent on pills from the moment I wake up until I go to sleep, and willing to give myself to any good looking colt that wants me. Internally I wasn’t doing great, but externally I was doing amazingly. I had received several gold rated records, hundreds of thousands of fans, had so much money that I didn’t even think about price anymore. I tried going to a therapist, rehab, and counseling, but nothing seemed to work. Some ponies
that were close with me started to notice this happening to me, so I started to wear reflective goggles so that they couldn’t see my eyes.

While I was drinking more than usual, I got a phone call from Octavia. She said that she was in the city for a week to perform in a concert and would like to meet up. Because I was so lonely and drunk at the time, I hastily replied yes and made plans to meet up. I realized that I had lost all forms of contact with all my old friends; friends that truly loved and supported me. The next day I tried to look presentable in front of a mirror: gelling my hair to look normal, brushing my teeth several times to get rid of the smell of alcohol out of my breath and tried everything to get rid of my blood shot eyes. I eventually decided to wear my goggles because she would see me breaking when she looked into my eyes. I walked down to the coffee shop where we were meeting. I started to draw quite a bit attention from my fans; most of which I wouldn’t like Octavia to see due to their delinquent look. I was able to get most of them away before she came. As I was waiting, I saw her in the distance. Overcome with anxiety I popped a few pills to calm me down. She walked in with complete grace; intimidating yet so calming like the pony you want to be. She looked around the café and then saw me. I couldn’t tell what her countenance showed. But she came over anyway and sat down next to me. She told me she was so glad we could meet again. She continued to talk as if we were never separated, she smiled while she talked, and it looked so beautiful. Her eyes kept going over my goggles, as if she was wondering what became of my eyes. I would have liked to remove them but then I knew she would see how broken and messed up I am; I couldn’t stand the thought. She looked so lively, so joyful; her body seemed to radiant a certain aura that I haven’t felt for so long. As we finished our coffee she placed her cup down before asking me to remove my goggles. I refused and she didn’t push it; oh, only if she knew how much I wanted to, but I couldn’t. We got up to leave and she suggested that we meet up again. A tear started to form on my eyes; even after being silent, not removing my goggles, and being so closed she wanted to meet up again.

I returned home to find the house the way that I left it: cold, empty, a void where no joy could enter. Feeling myself going unstable I took a few pills; then a few more, then a few more. No matter how much I took I couldn’t feel whole again. That’s when I knew that I wouldn’t become stable anymore.

So that’s why I’m writing this. Most ponies wouldn’t know why I’m going to be found, apparently overdosed. I don’t want ponies to think I decided to end it all, I didn’t. It just so happened to end like this. I can’t do anything about it, but I’m still going to accept it.

Good bye