My father is a very strange pony, some might say. The fact he kicked out his own daughter, pretty much for doing magic, might seem absurd, until you see the actual reasoning behind it.
You see, my father isn't so much against magic, for obvious reasons, but more against magicians. There was something he said about a year before I was kicked out that I remember deeply. He was talking to my mother while I had 'gone to bed'. I could hear faint talking from downstairs, so I opened my door quietly, just so I could get a better idea what the conversation was about. My father was the one talking a lot of the time. I say talking, he was more ranting, like he always seems to do. Mother and I didn't like it as much as each other, but I remember this not being something that's been going on for a long time, more something quite recent. All I can remember him saying was that he doesn't like the way I parade around my 'stupid' magic and that I should engage in something worthwhile, as opposed to being 'another one of those crappy magicians'
That could probably explain why my father kicked me out, he doesn't seem to like something I actually found myself enjoying. I had tried many things previously, some could say I was a bit desperate to find my cutie mark, before I found magic. I had tried the lot; writing, drawing, singing, sports, anything you can imagine. No-one told me to do it, no-one spurred me on, it was my own pursuit, and to find out that my own father hating the one thing of many that I enjoyed AND was good at broke my heart into a million pieces. That night was the toughest I'd ever had, mostly because I now knew that I was under the same roof as someone that hated my talent. The reason I didn't stop was that I wanted to be the greatest magician. Not good, not great, THE GREATEST!
But where was I once I had no roof above my head? Alone, cold and depressed. All my friends slowly pushed me away when I started actively pursuing my dream, bar one friend, whose house I headed to. Fortunately, there was no rain this night, but it was extremely cold. Blasted pegasi thought that would be a good idea. As I knocked on the door, I saw my friend and let out a small smile. As I asked if I could stay the night, my friend explained that she couldn't have me stay, as she's already having a friend around. I simply just gave a quick smile as she closed the door. That smile quickly turned to a very strong frown as a trotted away.
After about an hour or so of trying to find somewhere nice to sleep for the night, I gave in a decided to sleep on a nearby bench. At this point, I hadn't had any food or drink and my hooves and cape were starting to get dirty. But I didn't want to make it worse by sleeping on the ground. Besides, I could potentially get trampled on by early morning ponies. The bench I had found was cold, hard and very uncomfortable, but it'll have to do for now. I curled up in my cape and sighed into sleep.
That was until about an hour had passed and I had been woken up by a guard. "And just what are you doing sleeping here, missy?" I quickly jumped off of the bench and ran away. Impulse, I guess. So now, I was cold, lonely, depressed and tired, with no place to sleep. I simply just trotted around, hour after hour, before I finally caved in and collapsed on the ground. I didn't seem to care that my body and cape would get dirty, I needed to sleep, badly.
I woke up in a bed, rather surprisingly. My first thought was that my father found me and decided to whisk me back home and apologise for his yelling. That was until I got a better look around and found myself in a completely different bedroom than the one I had slept in just yesterday. As I looked around, I heard a creek coming from my right hoof side, and a door slowly opening. As you would expect, I started panicking, I didn't know if this could be my father or some stranger ready to kill me. Well, it was a stranger, but he didn't have any kind of weapon on him. The stallion in front of me was pretty tall and kind of handsome, with a pretty soothing voice. He sat close to my bed as I slowly peeked out of the covers more. The stallion greeted me, I replied, sounding very down and quiet. As we both engaged in conversation, I realised that I had entered a orphanage. They didn't know who I was and they had more than enough room for one pony, even if it could just be for one night.
As the stallion left, I turned myself over and sighed deeply, tears trickling down my eyes like a waterfall. How could my father just forget about me? Why didn't my mother do anything? Why didn't my best friend let me in at my time of need? These were all questions I had thought about while crying my eyes out, yet couldn't find the answer for. I must have been crying for at least half an hour. The floor, bed and covers were soaked in my tears. The only thing that stopped me was when I saw, at the corner of my eye, my cape and stuff I took with me, all perfectly clean. My body was clean too, if a bit wet, but not from the tears. My tears stopped as I laid in bed. I then had only one thought pass my mind once I saw these two things;
'Maybe this place isn't so bad'