Yeah yeah I know, school’s boring, so I’ll try to keep this part brief. I actually didn’t attend school for very long, just long enough to be literate and not be a complete ignoramus around others. Anyway I went off to some actual school while Berries stayed home due to some “condition.” If you ask me, she was the favorite foal, but I’m not going to go there. Color tagged along for a bit, but became disinterested and went off on his own adventures during the day. This left me stuck in the school essentially alone.
The first year or so was basic, not much going on. Come the second year though and that got hectic. Around that age, being a unicorn, ponies started to expect me to at least begin working with magic. I couldn’t. I don’t know why but just doing much was hard for me. I could hardly even levitate something like the quill I’m using to write this story. It was pathetic, and that definitely lead to some name calling. Name calling, that reminds me of something...
“Hey you! Dud Horn,” some bully yelled to me. In my head I knew he wasn’t too bright from the get go, but I knew better than to fight with him.
“Hm? Are you talking to me?” I asked him, possibly more sarcastically than I wanted to.
The bully snorted at me. He too was a unicorn, but towered over me. Another thing he had on me, his cutie mark. This guy wasn’t in a friendly mood and I was his target for the day.
“Watch that tone, blank flank,” he retorted.
I simply shrugged then asked, “So, what is it you want? I don’t have any bits if that’s it.”
“Nope.” he responded, “No need for money, just here to have some fun!”
Of course this meant to be verbally and physically abused. I don’t know about you, but that isn’t fun by any means. I would come home battered and bruised every few days or so and I would get the same run down. Concern from my mother, and a roughing up and stern lecture from my father. That man never failed to disappoint as a foal.
At this point I want to wrap it up by saying, “The adults stepped in and the situation got better.” Actually no, just the opposite. But I’m done boring you with details. One good thing did come out of this though. I found my way to a guitar. Old one, found it while digging through old stuff in my home one day. Before long I decided to give it a try. It was like... well... magic! That’s how I got my cutie mark. Turns out playing that guitar was my talent. Still use that same guitar to this day. Never let go of that thing.