Shades
These shades. Yeah, I get asked a lot about these shades. Why do you wear them? Why do you always wear them inside and at night? How do you even see through them? If I had a bit for every time somepony asked me about these shades, shit man, I wouldn’t even need to work. So why do you think I wear them? Style? Eye problems? I’m a vampire? I just like them? I wish they were the answers. So do you really want to know why I wear these shades?
Let’s start at the beginning. When I was a filly I was a spoiled fucking brat. The spoiled-ist you’d ever see. I wanted something I got it. I can’t remember a single time either of my parents said no to me. Not to say they didn’t try they just gave in almost instantly. At a store if I told them to buy me something, they would. No questions asked. I’m pretty sure I lived on a diet of pizza and candy until like ten.
It wasn’t just at home either. School, work, random pony on the street. Nopony ever said no to me. I did no school work. Other fillies, they’d be sitting there doing their work and I’d just be doing whatever, or not even go in most cases. I didn’t even go to school for so long at one point they sent Foal Services to the house. Parents nearly got locked up until I started just telling them I didn’t want to go to school and shouldn’t have to. Guess what, didn’t need to after that. Parents told me every day to go to school, I just said no and it was the end of that, every day. If it weren’t for Twilight, I’d be dumb as a brick.
Now it’s about this point any normal foal is going to start noticing that something's up. Thirteen years of always getting your way, always. Like most foals, I took advantage of it. I had my parents buy me this super expensive DJ setup. This setup must have cost like forty grand. Found out later my parents had to take like two loans out and remortgage the house; but I wanted it, so I got it. Don’t get me wrong we weren’t poor, we just weren’t exactly what you’d call rich either. Dad was a fairly unknown fashion designer; Mom was a therapist. The shit I put my parents through. They never got any sleep after that. I’d be up until three or four in the morning just playing random records full blast.
So after that whole mess in between the fashion designing my Dad gets a second job. I mean, they had to be able to pay all those bills now. You don’t know how much I wish I could turn back time, redo everything. Mom starts picking up more hours herself. It leaves me home alone for most nights. At the time it really didn’t bother me. I’d have friends over most nights. Trashed the house more than a hoofful of times. Never cleaned it myself, told my parents to and so they did.
Well one night my Dad gets back from a fashion show he just hosted, first one in quite a while. This night also happened to be one of my ‘trash the house’ nights. Understandably he comes up to my room demanding I clean up the house. Of course I tell him to, to put it nicely, pound sand and clean it himself. Now normally this is where he’d give up and just start doing what I said but this night is different. He actually starts acting like a parent. I can still hear it clearly to this day. ‘Excuse me? I am the parent and I just told you to do something, start doing it.’ I was stunned. Somepony actually talking back to me. Somepony didn’t do what I said.
This has never happened to me before; what do I do? I snapped back. ‘Just do what I say already and clean it yourself.’ His response. ‘No.’ There is was; the first time somepony ever said ‘no’ to me. I was furious; what was different this time? Why didn’t he do what I said? Out of anger I punched him right in the face. Punched my own father. Gave him a bloody nose. Knocked the stupid, large rim, purple tinted, sunglasses right off his face. That’s when I said the last thing I’d ever say to my father. Got right into his face looked him dead in the eyes and screamed, ‘I hate you! I wish you’d kill yourself!’
And he did. He went down to the kitchen, pulled a knife out of the drawer and just slit his throat. Last thing I ever said to him, and he did it; but why? He didn’t listen to me just before, why now? I locked myself in my room. Left my father to be found by my mother a few hours later. That scream she let out when she found him still haunts me to this day. Police had to knock down my room door, they found me curled in a ball in the corner. I just yelled at them to leave me alone and of course they did. Why wouldn’t they, I told them to?
Now there’s the question. Why did my father not listen to me for the brief moment? After the funeral I told my mother what happened that night. She didn’t seem surprised, as if she already knew. Turns out she’s not just a therapist she’s a hypnotherapist. She found a hypnosis spell made illegal somewhere around six to seven hundred years ago. That didn’t stop mom though. No, she used that spell. She used it on my father; and for what? To jump him of all things. She used an old, illegal, hypnosis spell for sex. Guess she didn’t think she’d get pregnant. Yeah the spell apparently has some side effects. Ponies have only been doing what I say to because I literally hypnotize them with my eyes.
There you have it. Why do I wear these shades? Short answer; they were my father’s; but now you know the long answer.
