Everything Wrong With A Puppet to her Fame
By Kaidan
Sins by BronyWriter
Spoilers
(duh)

I did not turn to see my cello sitting in its stand. I did not glance at the blood stained walls or corpses of my parents. I did not look to see her sunglasses on my nightstand.

Dead parents? I know I just said spoilers, but... spoilers! Ding 1

They had long, unbroken lines of musical prodigies in their families. Not even my status as ‘just an earth pony’ would break that chain.

That's racist. I mean... yeah, it's intentionally racist. So yeah, that's... who's doing the sinning here?! Ding 2

I had my enthralling books on music theory, wise and elderly instructors, and gentle parenting instead.

Gentle parenting? Given what we find out about her parents, and the fact that we already know that they're racist snobs, that seems unlikely. Ding 3

To their credit, the lessons rarely left marks. It would not bode well for their filly to be seen with bruises or sent to the hospital with a broken leg.

Gentle parenting. Ding 4

My stoic father offered his silent support from the front row. My mother would guide me between instruments, pointing out my failings with such grace.

You know, this is actually a pretty nice touch. Despite the insane abuse her parents put her through, she still looks at them through rose-tinted glasses just because they're her parents. She gets beaten by them, but she still strives for their approval. It's very well done. -Ding 3

I recall leaving my room in my youthful optimism to tell my parents I had gotten my cutie mark. Giggling filled the air as I skipped down the hallway.

In the previous paragraph, it states that all four of her legs and her head were bandaged up, and that she felt like she'd been run over by a carriage. I'll grant that it was probably a bit of time between the previous one and this, but her parents never come to check on her even once? We find out that her cutie mark has an unsettling backstory behind it, and her parents are the type who would want to make sure it worked. So it seems like either Octavia healed fairly quickly, which, considering her injuries, would still take a few days at the very least, and her parents never checked on her to make sure they got a return on their investment, or she was healed that day and she's bandaged up for no real reason. Either way, sin! Ding 4

Now they would treat me like their daughter, they would love me.

Comma splice. Ding 5

If we can teach that worthless mud pony to be a famous musician, it will prove we’re better than them.”

Really? But just before you said

And I will not keep wasting time on her!

So do you want to spend time teaching her the cello, or do you not want to waste more time with her? Ding 6

You continue to have servants discipline her for you until she gets good?

This reads oddly to me. It would be a bit better to have her say "you'll continue to..." Ding 7

They would say I had gone insane, that the cutie mark was a fraud.

Comma splice. In fact, this is kind of a frequent problem. I'm just going to add ten sins now for all of them. Ding 17

“What music, darling?” she coldly replied.

It seems a bit odd to me that Octavia's mother, who clearly hates her and Octy knows this, would call her "darling". I get that it might be a tic like with Rarity, but it sounds more natural if she just says "What music?" in a cold manner. Ding 18

“Octavia, put your bow tie back on,” Mother ordered.

“No. It’s too tight,” I complained.

“You’ll put it on this instant, or else!”

“Or else what? You’ll beat me in front of the judges and spectators? Maybe pummel me as the stagehands ready the lig—”

Octavia brings up a good point. Wouldn't it be smarter for Octavia's mother to, you know, not beat Octavia in public? In the next paragraph she essentially almost murders her by almost chocking her to death with the bow tie. So what happens if someone sees that? I get that her parents are influential ponies, but there's gotta be a limit. They can't have everypony in Canterlot in their pockets. Ding 19

It was a thin gossamer string with a hook resembling the kind a fisherman would use.

Fisherman? BronyWriter, you seductive pegasus, you, you're nitpicking!

...

Yup! Ding 20.

Slowly I raised my hoof to the odd, golden barb. I tapped it and watched it swing gently in mid-air. I tapped it again and felt it prick my skin. I yanked my leg back from the sharp pain.

Well, what did you think was going to happen? Who sees a hook, even a mystical one, and goes "I want to touch that!" Ding 21

I felt where it had pricked me, yet the spider-like hook had seemed to move. My eyes followed the string, looking for where it had bitten into my flesh. When I found the end of the string, it was pierced straight into the pastern above my hoof. The hook was too deep to be visible, and when I tugged on the string now I could feel it tug at my bone.

I felt a sharp pain as the string retracted, drawing my hoof forward. I saw another silvery strand branch out and embed itself in my left foreleg. I tried to rear up and tear them out, but they were fastened too securely.

One leg at a time, the two lines tugged me forward. Each step towards the cello that I resisted caused another jolt of pain. It was as if the hooks had embedded themselves into the tendons and nerves of my legs. I found myself walking along to the tempo of the mysterious strands, until I reached my cello.

I was still nervous to perform, but the friendly strings had thought of everything. They raised me to my normal posture. I balanced myself on two legs with the cello for stability.

Having said that, the hooks are one of the best parts of this story. They're probably the reason this story is considered iconic. It's another brilliant little touch. Very, very well done. -ding 16

Neither hunger, malnutrition, nor punishments issued by my mother phased me the entire time.

Phase: to put or come into use gradually; incorporate by degrees:
Faze: to cause to be disturbed or disconcerted; daunt: Ding 17

“I don’t understand: Grain alcohol? Cutting a drink?”

Improper capitalization. Ding 18

“You can call her ‘stick in the mud,’ “ Lyra added.

Considering the slang for earth pony is "mud pony" couldn't that be something a male unicorn/pegasus would say after scoring with an earth pony to describe the experience? No? Maybe? I'm just reaching? Ding 19

“Oh just some long island iced teas, a couple panty droppers, a few shots of Colt Daniels. . .” Lyra ran out of hooves to count on and noticed Bon Bon’s glare.

Maybe you could chalk it up to Octy's earth pony-ness, but for someone who's never had alcohol of any sort before, because why would she have, that much booze in the span of what can't be more than a few hours would probably kill her, especially given Lyra's comment about them cutting the drinks with grain alcohol. Ding 20

“four—five? forty-five Luna avenue.”

Couple missing capitalizations here. Ding 21

“Why help me? They’ll find out,” I asked.

Putting the "I asked" said tag by a piece of dialogue that is not a question. It would have been better to write it as "Why help me?" I asked. "They'll find out." Ding 22

The maid had been ordered by my father to gain my trust and spy on me. I learned what a cat o’ nine tails was after that escape attempt.

Uh, what was it that they said earlier about how they never really left marks on her? Yeah, that doesn't match up with using a cat o' nine tails. They're designed to break the skin Ding 23

My last thought was ’At least I’ll be free.’

Improper caps. Ding 24

I smirked as I thought about them. What I can recall about last night

Tense change. Ding 25

Vinyl scooted next to me and we began to have a quiet conversation.

“Yo, Octy, what’s up?” Vinyl asked.

I looked up towards the ceiling. A small yellow light hung overhead, illuminating our corner of the bar. “A light?”

Vinyl chuckled and shook her head. “Wow, we need to get you outside more. It’s not like a little sun would kill ya.”

"Responding to 'what's up' literally" cliche. Ding 26

“Oh, I don’t have a dog.” I frowned at the thought of having never had a wide-eyed puppy that loved me unconditionally.

Your parents probably would have killed it in front of you because you hit a flat note or something.

...

wow, what's wrong with me? Ding 27

“. . . I mean, just have a glass of alcohol, maybe a fancy red wine with a side of cheese on crackers.”

Using ellipses instead of showing us Vinyl's reaction. Ding 28

I fell back laughing into the booth. The thought of me eating cheese and drinking wine like a unicorn was too much.

Okay, there have been a few instances of this that I haven't really pointed out, but I really like it how there are bits and pieces of her parents' brainwashing that comes through, even when she's being rebellious. How she casually degrades herself because she's not a unicorn like it's the most natural thing in the world. It's a brilliant touch. -ding 25

She giggled. “You don’t have to be rich to have manners. I was born to a blacksmith and a tailor. I grew up learning to make candy.”

“Father always says earth ponies are only good for the service industry.”

Bon Bon’s eyes flew wide open as she gasped, before harsh lines shaped her frown. “Octavia! That’s awful. Look at you, a famous musician and composer. I hate when ponies talk about how we should be out farming or serving food.”

It appeared I had said something wrong, but I had no idea what.

Okay, I know I just pointed it out, but... gah, so good! -ding 24

“Hey now, stay on your feet, Octy.

Horses have hooves. Ding 25

The floor was covered by all manner of clothing, discarded pizza boxes, and beer bottles.

Clothing? How much clothing can Vinyl have? She's not a noble. I get that she might be wearing stuff when she performs, but we've never been told that. Seems out of place. Ding 26

That was when I turned to face the stallion, whom I assumed had showed me a good time, even though I could not recall it. That was when I saw Vinyl

Starting two sentences with "that's when." Ding 27

White fur, stained by sweat and beer, was accented by an electric blue mane, splayed in a hundred directions from the long night. Two eighth notes adorned the mare's flank, and though I could not recall what had happened in bed, it mortified me all the same.

I had slept with Vinyl, the DJ, and a mare. To rub a stallion in my parent's face might be hilarious enough to offset the punishment. My parents deserved to suffer. Knowing their daughter had gone out and experienced the real world would do that. What would filly fooling accomplish? How would they react to know I had run off, gotten drunk, and slept with a mare?

I dunno. For all of Vinyl's "devil may care" attitude, I don't think she'd sleep with a plastered Octavia right after Octavia told her she'd been abused. Doesn't seem like something she'd do. Ding 28

“I had a dog when I was a child. It was unruly and never obeyed anypony. It kept getting in trouble, until finally it crossed the line. My father ordered me to get rid of it, for his patience had run out. I took it into the back yard and bashed it in the head with a rock.

“It cried out in pain, for I lacked the strength to end it cleanly. It looked at me pleading for forgiveness, but her time for mercy had passed. I had no choice but to continue to beat it until it died."

Oh, um, I guess my earlier comment about him doing that wasn't actually far off at all. Huh.

“What bar!”

Needs a question mark. Ding 29

She hoisted me to my feet and released the bow tie to allow me a breath.

Is this an anthro fic and I wasn't told? Ding 30

Final sin tally: 30

Sentence...

...

...

Being choked by a bow tie. (forever)