Fate can be cruel. Why might I say this, you ask? Well, let me tell you.
I was born on October seventh of nineteen ninety-four. It may not have been known right away, but something was definitely off. I was born with very strange eyes.
Most ponies are born with a pupil in their eyes, and this allows light to flow through their eyes so they may see. I… I wasn’t so lucky. My eyes were defective, having been created with no pupil whatsoever.
I was blind.
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My name is Hi-Rez Shot. I am a Unicorn.
Life was quite tough for me.
As I went through life, I swiftly discovered that it was quite difficult to be blind. I couldn’t see anything that everypony else could, so it was quite often that I might have stopped to ask what a ‘tree’ or the color ‘blue’ was.
There were innumerable terms that I never understood which other ponies applied to day-to-day life, such as ‘Pegasus’ and ‘Unicorn’ and ‘Earth Pony.’ So many things I’d supposedly missed out on… there was just so much I couldn’t do, and so little I could.
It took me a long time to get used to my house alone, and even longer to figure out my neighborhood.
Thankfully, I wasn’t alone in my sightless walk through life.
My parents, Quick Shot and Snap Shot, mother and father respectively, helped me out each step of the way, sometimes taking that to a literal sense. Being blind, I obviously had a hard time with navigation. Heck, I remember one time I had tripped over a ‘rock,’ whatever that is, and just laid on my face and cried. I didn’t know what to do! I tried for a moment to get up onto my hooves, but the cold ground argued otherwise.
My parents had heard my crying and rushed to help me, but even though they helped me up, I still had an issue.
If I was blind, how would I get around? My parents couldn’t be there all the time.
I brought this up with my father one day, and we put our heads together to think.
After some time, my father came up with an idea. He wouldn’t tell me what it was, and kept saying it ‘would be a surprise.’ I was quite confused at first, but I would later learn just exactly what he had planned for me.
He would have shown me himself, but his line of work got in the way.
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Me and my family had a very average business. We were photographers.
Heh… funny how a family of photographers would have a blind child, eh? I couldn’t believe my luck when I first heard about our family business.
I’m blind. How can I take photos if I’m blind? I thought to myself. I would have brought this up to my father, but that’s when the business became intrusive.
He’d been asked up to a place known as ‘Canterlot’ for some kind of photo shoot. I, of course, voiced every objection I could’ve managed at the time. My father was leaving for some unknown land, leaving me unsure of his safety and when he would arrive back at home. Wouldn’t you be upset if put in my horseshoes?
Thinking quickly, I insisted I come with. I claimed it was so I could learn the tricks of the trade, but in all honesty, I only wanted to stay with my father.
Thankfully, yet also unfortunately, he said I could accompany him.
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During the time we spent in ‘Canterlot,’ I learned much about film, cameras and professional photography. Being blind, it wasn’t easy for me to understand and took much longer than anypony else would have learned, but I made my way through all my father’s lessons and became proficient with a camera.
After we got home from Canterlot, I showed my mother all that I had learned, and she could not have been more proud of me.
Time passed, and I started into the business myself. I was a bit shaky at first and botched a few attempts, but I got a good hoof on it after a few more shots. I practiced around the house and showed my attempts to my father, and I improved vastly over time.
It was after that time that I learned about magic.
Magic was a spectacular thing. I could touch what I couldn’t reach, pick up things that were too heavy for me, and I could hold and operate things with a much finer touch.
It was through this that I expanded my skills in photography.
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At the age of seven, I was adept at photography.
That’s when my house burned down.
In the middle of the night, my room began to feel very warm. I got up to find and open my window, but something very hot stopped me from reaching it. I scurried off to my parents’ room and woke them up, then told them about the hot thing in my room. My father went to investigate, but came running back and shouted something about ‘fire.’
I didn’t know what it was, but from his tone of voice, I could tell it definitely wasn’t good.
My mother rushed me out of the house while my father ran to get water. I didn’t know why he thought it would be such a good idea to get a drink right then, but I guessed some ponies just can’t wait.
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Shortly after the house had been incinerated, my parents put together the remainder of their funds, ‘bits,’ apparently, and got us a new house.
This house was far superior to the old one.
For starters, there were textured floor tiles leading from specific places to another. The studded one would lead from the kitchen to the bathroom, the one with lines would go from my bedroom to the stairs, the rough one would go from the basement storage room to the hallway, then so-on and so-forth.
It was really easy for me to get around, and I quickly learned what the house was like, thanks to the textured floors.
Unfortunately, one of the construction workers had been lazy when placing a support beam, and the entire kitchen collapsed… with my father in it.
I was distraught for several hours, but my mother eventually calmed me down and told me nothing had happened. She just said that my father was okay, but he needed to leave for a long time.
Oh, that makes sense. Maybe he’s going to go find that construction stallion¸ I thought. I had been so oblivious at the time. Each and every time I recall this thought, I shudder. How could my mother have betrayed me like that?
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Two years later, at the age of nine, I had discovered just exactly what my mother had covered with that excuse.
Me and my mother had been visiting the local cemetery to mourn the loss of a cousin. We were looking for the tombstone, and I was running my hoof across each name to find the one of my deceased cousin.
The fifty-seventh headstone I touched read:
HERE LIES SNAP SHOT
PHOTOGRAPHER
INSPIRATION
FATHER OF ONE
MAY HE REST IN PEACE
I didn’t stop crying for days.
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At the age of ten, I had been doing my best to live up to my father’s name and face full-life consequences.
Strangely enough, I had also started to delve deeper into magic studies.
At the age of eleven, I had made great strides in magical prowess. I even learned how to magically develop photographs so the customers would not need to wait for development.
That, of course, is not the point of telling you this.
I had been studying magic for long enough to know what a teleport spell was, and my mother had even bought me several books written in Braille to assist my learning. This sped up my studies quite significantly, but not significantly enough to tear me away from my photography.
Every now and again, I would work on a secret project of mine. I’d been trying to invent a spell.
Yes, I know. That sounds quite strange. Trust me, it can only get stranger from here.
You see, being blind, I had quite a way with misplacement. I’d lose my camera, or maybe my film, or other important things.
Well, I thought I’d found a solution to that.
If a teleport spell can send something somewhere, maybe it can bring something, too! I thought, then devoting more and more of my time into magical studies.
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One day, I had decided to give it a try.
I summoned up all the power I could muster and focused on my camera, but nothing happened at first.
The next thing I remember was waking up.
My mother told me what happened. There had been some sort of magical explosion, and I had been knocked out. She took me to something she called a ‘hospital’ to be sure I was okay.
Why didn’t she do that with Dad?
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At the age of fifteen, I had started up my own branch of photography, while my mother had moved on to another line of work. I did my best to keep my family’s legacy alive, but there was only so much one pony could do.
Faced with more trouble than I could handle, I did what any sane pony would have done in that situation.
I got an assistant.
I remember the day she first arrived. She introduced herself as Lens Cap, and told me all her work in previous businesses. She said she had some skills in managing and didn’t really know much about photography, but she said she needed a job.
She seemed kind, so I accepted her for the position.
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We were instant friends. Right off the bat, we developed an unbreakable bond forged with film and flash bulbs.
We did near everything together, whether it was on-duty or not. We shot photos together, read together, walked around together, sang together, watched movies together… although I do admit I had some trouble with that one, and did practically everything else together.
She was a new feeling to me, one I’d never felt before. I felt comfortable around her, as though she were a fortress of solid iron. She made me feel safe, and I hoped I was returning the favor.
She eventually moved in with us, and may as well have become part of the family.
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Now, I am seventeen, and I have stepped out into the world seeking what I may further my experience with.
However, what I am met with is not what I gain, but what I lose.