The Mare in the Mirror
This story is dedicated to David, my father, and Janette, my mother. Clearly, there is a gracious God in the heavens to have allowed me to have been brought up under such wonderful people. I could not, no not in a million years if I were ever to live that long, ask nor dream of better parents. I love you both, even if you do question my choice in television.
Genesis
by
Harold Shepherd
and
Edited by Zach theDane
Chapter I: The Mare in the Mirror
Round and round the world spun. First, I saw Octavia as she was at the counter, then I saw Lyra over in the strings section of the music store, then Pinkie Pie through the window as she ran down the street throwing confetti into the air with Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy in hot pursuit. I could only imagine what those three were up to. Then the world changed again, showing Tavi at the counter then Lyra, then window, then Tavi, then Lyra, then window, then Tavi, then Lyra, then it began to spin so fast that all I could see was bits of blue as my mane whipped around my head. “Hey, Tavi!” I shouted, my voice vibrating as the turn table wiggled underneath me. “You have got to try this!”
I couldn’t have said it at a worse moment. The turn table that I had been sitting on suddenly tipped forward and sent me careening right into Lyra, who fell onto a guitar display, which fell onto one side of a keyboard. I had set a cupcake on the other end of the keyboard when Octavia and I had come into the store, and now it was airborne on a clear trajectory towards Octavia. She gave a frightful squeal and then at the last moment managed to duck out of the way. But the cupcake still flew onwards, smashing in a horrific display of frosting and caked goodness into the cashier’s face.
Once he had cleared his eyes of frosting, he looked down at Octavia with a scornful expression, bits of frosted cake dribbling down his chin. She just smiled sheepishly back at him, suppressing a squee of embarrassment. He pointed to a sign above the counter that said in big bold letters: YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT. Octavia sighed. “I don’t suppose you take credit?” She said.
“What in sweet Celestia’s name were you thinking, Vin?” Octavia hissed at me when we exited the store, two hundred bits poorer. “Sitting on a moving turn table? Why couldn’t you just do that at home like always? Now we had to pay money we don’t have.”
“Two reasons: one; that turn table can support three times its weight without slowing down, and two; I was there, it was there, and you were taking forever, as always. Besides, after tonight’s concert, we’ll be able to trash all the music stores in Ponyville, if not Equestria.”
“It’s only a one thousand bit gig, Vin, just like all the others.” That was Octavia for you, always miss-lets-look-at-the-glass-two-thirds-empty. “We still have to finish paying for my new cello after you blew up the last one, not to mention that the rent is due soon.” Sheesh, will she ever let me live that one down? You hook it to a bass cannon, forget to ratio the frequency, then the whole thing goes ka-blooy. It’s an honest enough mistake, anypony could have made it. But she was right, money was tight, and we were broke.
There were a few moments of silence, and I swallowed my pride. “I’m sorry.”
That seemed to lift her spirits a bit because she smiled and even laughed a little. “I forgive you. But that’s not what has got me troubled. You do realize what day it is?
She didn’t have to elaborate. I know she what was talking about: the anniversary. That wretched day exactly ten years ago when everything about my life was flipped, turned upside down, and flung out to dry. Octavia’s too, although not nearly as bad. I know that may seem like a selfish and self-pitiful thing to say, but it’s true. She left because she chose to. I left because I had to, with nothing being left to me. I didn’t find leaving hard, or even sorrowful, but it was the events leading up to that moment that are driving nails into my flank and fire out of my soul. A dark time, a terrible time, if only I could forget.
But that was a long time ago. I wasn’t her anymore, thank Luna, and never will have to be again.
After we had walked on in a few more moments of silence, Octavia suddenly started giggling to herself. “What is it?” I asked.
“Did you,” she said in between gasps of laughter. “Did you see the look on the cashier’s face right before the cupcake smashed into it?”
I instantly saw an image of the poor, surprised colt moments before the collision. I couldn’t help but join Octavia in an uncontrollable fit of laughter at the remembrance of the hilarious expression on his face, with his mouth hanging open as if to say Cupcake Landing Zone and his eyes as wide as a tea cups.
“Priceless.” I said when the giggling had subsided.
We didn’t talk the rest of the way to Twilight’s library, but preferred to walk in silence admiring the scenery. Ponyville is a really nice place once you hang around awhile, nothing like the older, noisier cities like Las Pegasus or Manehatten. It’s actually quite beautiful, with many well taken care of trees with leaves that flutter in the wind, and rivers of deep serene blue. The birds, thanks to Fluttershy’s tender care, were always in song and the crisp clear air always carried the faint whiff of apples on the breeze from Sweet Apple Acres. Because the town is set between two mountain ranges we would get the best dawns and sunsets as the sun reflected off the snowcapped peaks and through the tall oaks that border the town. It’s paradise, if there is no other word for it.
That’s not to say that there is ever a dull moment, though. Ever since Twilight came into town, she and her friends have been quite amusing in all the mischief that they seem to have gotten into over that past couple of years. Then there’s Derpy, the local zany mare. I’ve heard a lot of crazy stories about that pony, and after seeing firsthoof what she did to town hall, I don’t doubt that any of them could be possible. I even heard once that she used to live in Canterlot until she accidentally set Princess Celestia’s hair on fire. But once you get to know her, she’s not so bad.
Yep, this was Ponyvillie. Home. At least, now it is. I try not to think too much about my past, but it’s always there, like a storm cloud, especially today. Today it took great delight in tormenting me, reminding me of sins and mistakes long gone but that still refused to be forgotten. This was my place now, not that place where, had it gotten the chance, would have suffocated me. It almost had.
It didn’t take long to reach Twilight’s home, which was really just the library that had been carved out of a giant oak. It was a nice enough library, I guess if you’re into books. I’d rather have a max spinning turn table with 50-inch subs. That doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy a good Daring Do novel every once in a while, but I much prefer wubs to books.
Octavia knocked on the door, which was answered with a muffled “Come in.” Octavia opened the door and we stepped inside. The first thing that caught our attention was the chaotic state the library was in. Streamers and half-dead balloons hung from the rafters, confetti was scattered over everything in a thick layer, an empty punch bowl sat upside down on the floor, and almost all the books were scattered on the ground. The place was trashed.
“What happened here?” Octavia asked.
A small pile of books off to the left suddenly shook then fell apart to reveal a dizzy, cross-eyed Twilight lying on her back. I’d played at enough college gigs to know that she suffered from party lag.
“Wow, you ponies really threw one down here last night, huh?” I said, admiring a giant banner that hung in the center of the room.
Twilight groaned and staggered to her feet. “Pinkie Pie?” Octavia guessed. Twilight gave a feeble nod, but then stopped and looked down with her eyes squeezed shut, clearly fighting off a migraine.
“What time did you get to bed anyway?” I asked.
“Bed?” Twilight replied. That answered my question. “What are you and Octavia doing here anyway? Don’t you need to be preparing for that concert tonight?”
“Actually, that’s what brings us here.” Octavia said. “Vin here blew up my cello during practice earlier this week.” Upon mentioning my name, she gave me a hostile glare. I could only grin and say, “Ah, Tavi, are you going to honestly tell me that you didn’t enjoy being flown across the room and into the wall with your bow embedding itself mere inches above your head?”
Neither of the mares were amused.
“That aside,” Octavia continued. “I’ve always had a friend of mine string my cello when I needed it done, but she’s out of town today. So, I thought I would stop by and see if you had a book that thoroughly explains the process so I can have it strung by this evening.”
“Oh, I believe I have just the thing. Somewhere.” Twilight groaned, looking out into the vast sea of books.
We began searching for the book, but Twilight couldn’t remember that exact title, so we had to show her every book we found that might possibly be the one we were looking for. Needless to say, this slowed our progress greatly.
At some point our work must have woken Spike because we soon saw him coming down the stairs, his eyes drooping and a groggy expression on his face.
“Welcome back to the world, sunshine.” I said.
“The world needs a snooze button.” Spike huffed, crossing his arms.
“Now, Spike, be nice.” Twilight said. “Since you’re already up, you might as well help us cleanup.”
“Ah, but Twi-”
“No ‘buts’ Spike. If I remember correctly, you caused most of this mess.”
Grumbling to himself, Spike retrieved a broom from the utility closet and began to sweep up the confetti. The rest of us returned to looking for the book.
Several hours passed and there was still no sign of the book. Spike had cleaned up most of the confetti and had begun to straighten things up like flipping the furniture back over and rounding up all the balloons. But, seemingly for no reason, he stopped in the middle of the room, his face clinching up and his right eye gave a little twitch. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but was only able to mutter “Ah…Ah.”
Twilight looked over her shoulder to see what he was going on about.
“Ah...AH.” Spike continued to gasp, now bringing a claw up to his nose.
“Sweet Princess Celestia!” Twilight cried, knowing at once what was happening. “Everypony take cover!” She jumped behind one of the few remaining piles of books, pulling a bewildered Octavia with her. I dove underneath the nearest table, which must have been used to set the food on, because there was still an assortment of cupcakes on it.
“AH…AH!” Spike had his head tilted back and was very near the edge of sneezing, when his gasping stopped. But nopony dared move, waiting to see what would happen. Minutes passed, and he didn’t as much as sniffle.
“Huh,” he said. “Must have been a false-AHCHEOOO!” A giant green turret of flame erupted out of his mouth and sent him sprawling backwards onto the table I was hiding under.
It was the kind of table that had only one leg in the center, so when he landed on it, it tipped forward, flung the cupcakes into the air, and smashed down on my head. A momentary blackness blocked my vision, and then everything became hazy while stars did the waltz at the corners of my eyes.
I staggered out from underneath the table, my head swimming in a cloud of pain. I tried to make sense of my surroundings, but all I could see was a blur of reality. When the haze subsided, the first thing I was able to clearly see was an assortment of cupcakes falling in my direction.
I didn’t have time to duck or even blink. I was instantly showered in frosting and cake.
Octavia looked up from her hiding place behind the books, got one look at me, and burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter that sent her to the floor, pounding her hooves as if in a seizure. “Looks like you got your just deserts!” She said, which only added more laughter to her ludicrous display. Even Twilight couldn’t resist a smile.
“Haha,” I said. “Very funny, Tavi.” I turned to Twilight. “Where’s the bathroom?”
It took a good twenty minutes to get all the frosting and cake crumbs out of my mane. When I was done I stared at the mare in the mirror, making sure I had gotten all the cupcake off my face.
But then I stopped. The mare in the mirror was much like me: she wore black rimmed, purple tinted glasses, had a short cut mane style that was dyed two different shades of blue. But an image of another mare flashed into my mind; an image of a mare that I hated with all my being.
I slowly took my glasses of and let them fall to the floor. Now that the glasses where gone, I could see the blood red color of the mares eyes. The same eyes as hers.
I turned the faucet on and let the sink fill up the brim with ice cold water. I lowered my mane into the sink and began to rinse the dye out of my hair, giving the water a transparent blue hue to it. As I moved my head around in the sink, water splashed out and onto the floor, but I didn’t care.
I had sworn that I would never have anything to do with her again, but it had been so long since I had seen her, and the storm cloud above me threatened to burst into a furor, that I had to. I just had to.
I lifted my head out of the sink, now soaked in water, and shuttered as the icy cold liquid trailed down my neck and flank. I looked again at the mare in the mirror, which now had a sleek, wet mess of black hair on the back of her head, all the blue dye now washed down the drain. I pulled the hair over to my right side and let it hang over my face, partially covering my right eye and ear. I imagined it being longer until it covered over half my face and horn. The mares mane, now black, was in deep contrast to her snow white flank.
There was just one thing more to do. I closed my eyes and began to conjure a spell my mother had taught me. It was a simple enough spell, and didn’t even use enough magic to cause my horn to glow, but my mother had made me practice every day until I could use it without even thinking about it. I had, however, not used it in ten years, so it took a couple of tries before I was able to get it right. When I opened my eyes, the mare in the mirror eyes were no longer bright red, but a slightly deep green that, when in combination of her black mane and white flank, gave her a sort of royal beauty to her overall appearance.
And it was done. The mare in the mirror, me, was now a complete doppelganger of her; the mare that I used to be. Everything that I had learned to despise.
The storm cloud above me finally fractured and rent itself apart, raining down despair on me. I once again felt the pain of loneliness and the hate of my own heart from long ago; the betrayal, the malice, the hate, the desolation of my own soul, and all the pains and hopelessness of my past.
I gripped the edges of the sink and vomited. Tears welled up in my eyes, causing me to sob. I leaned on the sink and lay there, weeping.
Twilight and Octavia must have heard the commotion, because the next thing I saw was the door opening in the mirror’s reflection, and I heard Octavia’s voice through the crack saying “Hey, Vin, is everything okay in there?” She must have guessed what I was up to, because she poked her head in when I didn’t answer. Her eyes fell upon me as I was hanging onto the sink as if for dear life, and they looked from my wet face to my night black mane and then finally my green colored eyes. She looked at me with an expression of pure horror.
“Is she okay?” I heard Twilight inquire, sounding concerned.
“Get her a glass of water.” Octavia replied out the door, and then turned back to me.
She came over and knelt by my side on her front legs and looked at me sympathetically. “Oh Vinyl.” She whispered. “What have you done?”
By letting me support my left hoof on her shoulders, she helped carry me out of the bathroom and into the main library where Twilight was waiting for me with a glass of water. She offered it to me and I hastily accepted it and gulped down the contents.
“Oh, you dye your mane.” Twilight said, noticing the black hair that fell over my face. “I didn’t know that.”
I handed back the glass and slumped to the floor, crossing my hooves over my eyes, fighting back another wave of tears.
“What’s wrong with her?” Twilight asked.
Octavia started to explain, but I didn’t listen. I just wanted to find a hole, crawl in and let this storm of my life consume me. I wanted to die.
Octavia must have finished telling Twilight what was causing my trouble, because I soon heard her gasp with shock and she leaned down next to me. “You poor thing! Here let me-”
“Back off! I’m not a helpless filly.” I screamed, sounding very much like a helpless filly.
Twilight shrank back at the hostile tone of my voice. Seeing that I had offended her sent another wave of pain from my storm cloud, which only brought more tears.
The torrential down pour sent me deeper into myself, forcing me to look at who I was. I had made an oath that I would never remember what had happened ten years ago. I couldn’t remember it; I refused to. But the rains of hate and despair pushed me deeper and deeper. I had to. I had to remember.
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This looks promising - I hope you get the next chapter out soon!
2248418
So do I. So do I
A-hem.
Now, this is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside down. I'd like to take a minute, sit right there bub, and I'll tell you how I became the Fresh DJ of Wub.
Sorry.
Had to do it. 
That Fresh Prince reference in the description was too much.
This is alright so far. You might consider separating your paragraphs with a line-break. Vertical space is cheap on the Internet, and putting a line-break between your paragraphs helps deal with that Wall-O-Text syndrome. Indents are well and good, and dandy for books, but try line-breaks and I'm sure you'll see the improvement.
Also, use a horizontal rule or a spacer such as three asterisks to separate different scenes. This creates a much stronger separation than just a few line-breaks, and really lets the reader know that the story is jumping focus.
2317720
Thank you for the feed back!
However, I'm a little lost. You see, the way my system works is I first complete my work in a Microsoft Word dox because I'm useless without a spell check, then simply copy and paste to the website. I understand that to some people paragraph spacing may seem like a good thing, but I find it a little unprofessional. It just looks to me like a half-hearted effort on part of the writer because he/she didn't bother with proper word grouping. I recomand reading in the Serif texture, because it is the one of the least bold and has a very subtle, light feel to it that should help if you are having problems reading the bold, harsher print in a book form.
Honestly, I've never heard of Wall-O-Text syndrome, so please explain.
Now, I will most certainly take your advice on scene pacing! Also, I checked into the horizontal rule, and I'm going to have to say no. That kind of structure just annoys me, and looks like a very flippant attempt at writing a story. I want the very best for my stories, because they are like my children, and looking even the least bit unprofessional and slapdash is for me very unacceptable. I'm not only a fanfic writer, I also plan on making a career out of writing, so in all aspects of my writing, I try to be my best, to push myself and help develop my style. I understand that some writers, like JasontheHuman, like using these simple writing forms, but to me, when reading them, I enjoy the story yes, but it just doesn't seem like a true piece of literature unless its in standered "book" form and structure. These writers are good in their own right, but I prefer to be the very best that my ability and the Almighty will let me.
Lastly, when you said the Fresh Prince reference was to much, did that mean that you think I should omit it?
Well, thanks for the feed back all the same. Keep Calm and Brony On
-Power to the Bonys
First off, keep the Fresh Prince. It's funny, and this is the Internet. Bel-air is cool here.
Wall-O-Text is where a reader looks at a page, sees a ton of words without any breathing room, and the brain turns off. It can be caused by a lack of spacing between paragraphs. Basically, when one looks at the story, one sees a "block" of words with no breaks.
Since vertical space is a premium in traditional media such as books and newspapers, indents are used to clearly show the reader where a paragraph begins and ends. In most digital media, line breaks are used instead. It's totally up to you, and explained in more detail here:
http://www.fimfiction.net/writing-guide#Paragraph-spacing
We're all rookies here. There's no single "professional" way to group your words, it's just a tool to convey your concepts to the reader. I personally use line breaks. In some stories that have large paragraphs that follow one another I use both line breaks and indents to make it absolutely clear to the reader where a paragraph starts and ends. I have gotten complaints in the past that stories using only indents are difficult to read on some digital formats, such as smaller monitors or phones, while line-breaks are universally understandable across all digital formats. (Not gonna plug my work here, this is your story!)
Now, onto the Horizontal Rule, or hr. If you look on the toolbar above the FiMFiction story entry pane, the one with "save" on it, there is a button with a tooltip which reads "Horizontal Rule". The BBCode for it is (hr), though you would naturally replace the parenthesis with [ ]. It produces the following:
Which, when written with a line break above and below it, quite clearly tells the reader that the scene has changed. You might also consider Centering a few asterisks, this can also be found on the toolbar.
We're all here to improve. I hope this is helpful!
2318726
) What do you think?
Alright, I took your advice and gotta admit, it doesn't look that bad. (Ow, I think my ego just had a sezuire
2318848
Writing's an art, but there is a science to it. This means that it is largely subjective. For instance, I don't like a lot of Hemingway's work. Tons of people love him. I like Dickens, because he had a fun way of putting his heroes through the wringer. Some people don't.
I think your story looks pretty good. The question is, where do you go from here? What will you improve next? I'm partial to Vinyl and Octy, having written two stories about them and all, so it'll be interesting to see what you do with the characters. Like I said before, we're all rookies here, and the only way to get better is to write, write, write!
Don't worry about your ego. It'll mend. And if not, you'll get sent to live with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air.
2319023
Dickens 
But opinions are also heavily subjective. I"ll be coming out with chapter two here in few days, (hopefully), so that's something to look forward to.
Alright well, thanks! You've helped quite bit, and honestly, I don't know. I think the story is pretty good as is (What I've got planned) but only time will tell I guess. And man, I feel your pain. Hemingway
Sadly, my ego is very slow at recovering and I don't have any relatives living in Bel-Air.
This is the second Vinyl fic I read, It looks interesting and funny. I laught whe Vinyl throw the cupcake to Octavia
. And I have to admited, Vinyl with a night black mane and green eyes... 
.
And try to delete a couple of "then", she is spining on a moving turn table and use a lot of "then" is sometimes useless.
This is fic must be on featured box.
Neat, so far.
Just one little thing that's bugging me.
After the first HR break, when Vinyl is explaining her reasoning behind using the turntable as a Merry-Go-Round, it should be 'than', not 'then'.
Heil Grammar!
Hm. Interesting