My talent is rather odd. I mean can I even call it a talent? I mean it did give me my cutie mark. I do love it, but it's not something I do on purpose. Sometimes...barely anytime I wish I didn't have this talent. I can't really explain what my talent is, but I can explain how I got it...maybe that will help clear some things up.
. . . . . . .
"Excuse me!" A little grey colt called from the back of Ms. Cherilee's classroom. "Ms. Cherilee!" The grey colt called out even louder this time. "You forgot to give me my paper!" The colt exclaimed, desperately trying to get his schoolwork so he wouldn't fall behind in class.
In the front of the classroom Ms. Cherilee continues to give her class instructions on how to do the work on the papers they were handed out.
The grey colt huffed and put his head on the desk. "Guess I'll take a zero." The colt said to himself. He had always been shy, he didn't like the idea of interupting the class or getting up amd trotting in fromt of the enire class only to emberass himself on the mistake he would make. He knew he would mess up any simple task, he always had this gift of screwing up everything with himself.
Either trippings, or stuttering in front of the class the colt wasnt going to take that chance.
Thirty minuted passed and the little colt began to grow sleepy, he let his eyelids droop over his eyes. . . . The colt jolted up from his sleep, a small pool of drool was on his desk, hopefully nopony was looking as he wiped it away, as he wiped away the drool he quickly became aware of the fact he didn't need to worry about anypony seeing, because there were no ponies in the room. He was alone.
The little grey colt stood up and headed for the window of the schoolhouse. He looked out the window and saw the colts and fillies playing outside on the school's playground. Piece by piece the colt's mind processed the situation at hoof. It was recess and nopony woke him up to go and play.
That would have bothered any normal colt or filly, but not this colt. In fact he felt relived that he didn't have to go out and be social with the other foals. Usually the other foals would tease him about his 'blank flank.' It didn't bother the colt, but he would rather avoid it than be stuck in the middle of the situation.
Minuets passed as the colt began to draw on a piece of paper, he never used colored pencils or crayons like the other foals, no he always used solid grey granite pencil. As the colt finished drawing his sketch the class bell rang, this caused him to jump a bit and send his paper flying off of his desk, the paper gracefully fell and glided to the front of the class. Before the colt could stand from his desk to retrieve his art, the doors to the classroom bursted open and the foals came flooding in, all taking their seats.
Ms. Cherilee trotted to the front of the classroom and let out a gasp. She lowered her head and retrieve a piece of paper and raised it up, she then grasped it with her hoof and raised it up for everypony in the class to see.
The paper had a sketch of a beautiful mountain and the city of Canterlot hanging onto the side of the high detailed mountain. The royal palace was completely detailed, the buildings all had their pristine looking walls. The buildings were showing off their unique architecture. Everything was simply perfect.
"Who drew this amazing picture?" Ms. Cheerilee asked the entire classroom. The little grey colt raised his hoof. "Nopony?" Asked the teacher. "Don't be shy, this is an amazing piece of work!" Cherilee exclaimed. The grey colt extended his hoof as high as he could.
"Alright then, but this is a pretty drawing, I'll hang it up on the chalkboard for everypony to see." Ms. Cheerilee said.
The little grey colt sighed and lowered his hoof, his face wore the sad expression of being crestfallen.
'What is it about today, it's like everypony keeps ignoring me.' The colt thought to himself. 'Maybe if I try to get a pony's attention?' He looked over at the pink filly beside him.
"Excuse me?" He asked the filly, but the filly gave no response what so ever. The colt gently tapped his hoof onto the filly.
The filly jumped up and looked directly at the grey colt. "Oh my, you can't just go popping up beside ponies like that!" The filly exclaimed. "You scared me!" She added.
The filly turned away. "But I was here the whole time." The colt said to the filly. Once again the filly didn't respond.
The colt began to think now. Was this a talent? He loved being un-noticed, mostly due to the fact that whenever he was being watched he tended to make more mistakes than the normal for him.
A bright flash laminated the entire class room, several ponies cried in shock and looked back at whatever might have caused the flash. They all turned and saw the grey colt but thought nothing of him and turned back to continue paying attention on the lesson Ms. Cherilee has started once again.
The little grey colt looked at his flank and saw his cutie mark. A ponyquien, like the kind dress designers use to model their dressed. His cutie mark resembled a faceless ponyquien and nothing else. The little colt pondered over what his mark even meant.
. . . . . . .
I didn't know what it meant at the time, but as time passed on and I became the young stallion I am now, I realize it means I'm hard to notice. I know it doesn't make sense but it's true. The only ponies that ever notice me are my mom and dad.
Honestly I like my talent. I never liked being the center of attention and now I never will be.
I don't really know what I'm suppose to say here, I mean am I suppose to explain to you what my talent is? It isn't even a talent! It's like...some sort of curse, my fate perhaps? I guess I'll just explain how I got this stupid cutie mark.
. . . . . . . .
An average sized colt sat at a window, his gaze averted directly towards the scenery displayed to him through the glass. His dark blue irises scanned the green yard, his small solid white barrel heaved as he let out a sigh.
"Hey are you okay?" A voice familiar to the colt's ears came from the doorway.
"Yeah, everything is fine." The colt answered his mother.
"Why don't you go out and play, it's really nice outside." The colt's mother tried her best to persuade her foal into leaving the house.
"It only looks like that." The colt replied.
"What do you mean?"
"Right now I'm looking through this window, I see beautiful green fields, clear blue skies, and the bright shining sun, everything looks perfect, but if I go out there the truth will come to me." The white colt blinked as he continued his gaze.
"I'm not sure if I underst-"
"Because if I go outside, I will see everything, I will see the neighbors and how they abuse their foals, I will see the dry and dead lawn of the abandoned home that resides beside our home, I will see the homeless ponies that live underneath the bridge, I will see the horrible truth that is life." The colt turned to look at his mother.
"Son, don't you think your being a bit melodramatic?"
"Please, just let me see through the window and let me live this lie, if I go outside I can no longer pretend the problems aren't there." The colt calmly begged his mother.
"I'm sorry but you have been stuck inside the house for weeks, I think you need some fresh air, go out and make friends, do something." The mother didn't want to upset her foal, but he had to be exposed to the real world eventually, he couldn't just hide away forever.
"But mo-"
"No! Go outside and make friends!"
"..." The little colt said nothing as he left for the front door. As he raised his hoof and put it to the door he took one final look outside of the window. He let out a sigh and pushed open the door and left his home.
. . .
The pristine white colt was standing in the yard, his dark blue irises scanned his surroundings, he found the dead lawn that belonged to the rotting house that took its place next to his own home.
His ears flicked as he heard the loud sobs and shrill screams coming from his neighbors home, his ears continued to flicker until he heard a loud slap followed by silence.
The colt looked around once again and saw the homeless ponies underneath the bridge. Most of them were visibly malnourished, their ribs poking out from their sides, the exaggerated jawlines. The colt looked away as his eyes caught site of a pony falling onto the ground due to starvation.
The colt grew weary of the problems that surrounded him so he turned his eyes towards his own house.
Through the window he could see his mother pouring alcohol into a mug followed by her popping some pills into her mouth. He always knew she had a drinking problem ever since his daddy died, but he never actually saw her drinking or downing pills. He always avoided it, believing if he never saw it, then it didn't exist.
Now he saw it through his own eyes, yet he saw it through the window.
Windows, they always were a way to block out his problems, the colt could always position himself so that he could see something amazing through the window.
Like when it rains and storms, he could always move around until he saw the silver linings in the clouds, the beauty of such a bad situation.
Even in normal situations like daily life, he could position himself so he couldn't see the homeless ponies, or the abandoned home next to his house.
But now, the window, the key to his life has betrayed him, for now he saw the truth, even in his own home he wasn't safe from anything.
The colt felt something inside him break..no..he felt something shatter. All around him he could see only the worst of life, he could no longer look at life and see the little things that could make him happy, now he could only see the things that made him sad.
A bright light flashed and a warm sensation took hold of the colt's flank. He looked over and saw his cutie mark, a broken piece of glass.
. . . .
I cant really call it a talent can I? I mean all I can really do is be a pessimist, that's not exactly a talent. All I can do is the the worst in all of life's situations.
I don't like my fate, but at least I know the truth to my surrounding.
Some ponies might see my cutie mark and get the wrong idea, and by all means they're right. I got my mark on a complete mistake. I didn't mean to get it the way I did. I didn't mean to hurt anypony or destroy anything. I am not asking for forgiveness, but I at least want ponies to understand why I did what I did..well what I didn't mean to do.
. . . . . . . . .
A sky blue filly stared into the flame of a lit candle. Her amber eyes reflect the flickers of the flame perfectly, a perfect reflection, as she stared into the flame her eyes seemed to glaze over for a brief moment.
No pony ever knew why the filly loved to watch the flame, sometimes older mares would worry for the small filly. Words like: arson, dangerous, or even crazy, would often pop up in conversations that included the little filly.
It didn't matter though, because the filly didn't care for what they had to say. Whenever she would look into the flame, she felt warm, she felt right. Her eyes traveled downward from the flame, her eyes caught the melting wax that slowly rolled down the dry wax and harden only to become melted at a later time. The filly was always so fascinated at this stage. A quick flash back played within the flame as she stared deeply into its entrancing flickers. . . . "The wax rolls down and hardens, only to re-melt when the flame re-heats it." An older stallion explained to the little filly that pressed against his side.
"So it does that over and over again until it is all used up?" The filly asked.
"Yes my little filly." The stallion responded. . . . The little filly snapped out of her flash back as she caught sight of the dancing shadows against the walls. She loved how this tiny little flame could make something so fascinating. This tiny little flickering flame casted shadows against the room's walls. Sometimes if the sky blue filly focused hard enough she could see ponies in the shadows, she could see faces and outlines as they danced happily across the walls and throughout the room.
Some nights when the filly was sad, she would lite a candle and join the shadow ponies in their random and graceful dance, this always lifted up her spirits. . . On one fateful night the little filly got an idea. If this small flame could make her happy, maybe she could spread her happiness if she made the flame bigger!
So she attempted to make a greater candle. She hoof crafted a candle from the old wax that she had previously collected from other candles.
Night after night, candle after candle, the filly crafted, melt, hardened, and re-melted the home made candle. Until finally she had done it.
On the twelfth night she had finished her candle. It stood in the center of her room in all its glory. The base started in calm lavender and lifted up into light pink than raised higher until it hit orange, red, yellow, and green. The prismatic candle stood an outstanding two feet in height.
The little filly smiled proudly at her creation. . . . Today was the day, she would lite her candle and invite her parents into her room, she would amaze the, with her creativity and see their proud smiles! The filly was so giddy with glee when she lit the wicker her hooves were trembling just enough to knock over the candle. As the newly lite candle crashed down it set the filly's window curtains ablaze.
The filly's mind was lost as she stared into the quickly spreading flames, her gaze focused on the destructive power that was the fire. She was so entranced that she didn't hear the screaming, or notice her father carrying her out of the house.
As confusion and chaos happened outside, the only thing the filly could focus on was her home being burned down. Her entire house set ablaze. The angry dancing shadows that were casted upon the dirt. The horrified looking expressions that were plastered onto the shadow-like ponies' faces.
The filly couldn't take it anymore, she shut her eyes and wished away the flames. All she wanted now was for the fire to be gone. As the little filly shed her tears gasps and awwe's were heard all around from the ponies that surrounded the burning home.
The sky blue filly opened her eyes to see her home, no longer ablaze. The fire was gone, but the damage was still there.
The damage would always be there.
As the ponies talked to the filly's parents, a bright flash of light and a warm sensation came from the filly's flank. There on her flank, was her cutie mark, a candle with a burnt out wick.
. . . . .
I didn't mean to burn down my home, I didn't mean to send my family into bankruptcy, and I definitely didn't mean to get sent into an orphanage.