• Published 28th May 2013
  • 371 Views, 6 Comments

A Journal of a Beating Heart - Swiftlyscripted



A story about a young Colt named Beat scratch. He has been having hard from his childhood all the way up to now. He would like to share it with everypony to know who he is and how he found his ture happiness plus his true calling

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The Lonely Soul

August 16th


It was my third birthday. Normally here in Manehattan they throw parties or they take the birthday pony and his or her friends out for them to go eat. And normally you sing the birthday song to that special little filly. For me that never happened. I never left the house when I was a little filly, I never had a birthday party and I never had friends. On top of that I was the child of two famous ponies. My mother, Fiona, who was the lead violinist in the West Manehattan orchestra. My Father, Spin, Is a worldwide famous DJ. He’s knows everypony who is any pony. But that wasn’t the reason why I was alone. My mom and dad always yelled at each other about which type of music is better. Classical or Modern was always the topic and there was never an answer. I never knew what the hay was the big problem about it. I never got what was the big idea. From them yelling it affected me in a huge way. I never wanted to be around anypony because they will always yell at each other or I was just scared to be around anypony. I never figured it out.

Anyway I always stayed in my room. The only time I came out was use the bathroom, eat or drink, and wash my jacket. - which I never understand because I never went anywhere - Other than those things I stay in my room with my favorite bear with a missing eye. I named him Scratchy, after my name. I also had a mini turntable, microphone, old records and new cds. I layed in my bed just talking to my Scratchy and having a “great” time on my third birthday. Letting music play on my turntables, pretending to eat birthday cake and pretending that Scratchy was singing the “Happy Birthday” Song. Once Scratchy was done I let out a big smile on my face... but looked outside to see the other ponies playing with each other. Then looked back inside, looked down, then started crying. Yeah, It was the “best” third birthday party no pony can ever have.

Author's Note:

This is first journal entry. I hope everypony likes the story of my main OC pony's life