Filly's Apology
Me and my friends, Sweetie Belle and Applebloom, sat in our Cutie Mark Crusader clubhouse fending off our most devious, determined, and dangerous foe ever; boredom. Granted, we’ve fought this dastardly monster before, but never before has it been so strong. It sucked away at our stamina, letting the day waste away second by second. Applebloom laid stomach-first on the window seal, looking outside and watching the apple trees grow. Sweetie Belle laid with her back arched and her legs limp atop our crafting table. But I, Scootaloo the boredom-slayer, stood firm and continued to fight the beast. I thumbed by head on the wooden walls without any rhythm or motive. The even beat was maddeningly simple and amplified by its comparison to the silent clubhouse-fort.
Oh, who am I kidding, I’m bored, too.
It was obvious to all of us, but Sweetie Belle was nice enough to shout it out anyway. “Aauuuuugh… I’m bored! Bored-bored-board-bord-bourd-booooorred!!”
Applebloom shifted from her spot, turning her head to look at Sweetie Belle, “We get it, no need t’ah say it twenty times.”
“Auugh. I know, I’m just really, really bored!”
I stopped my thumbing and jumped into the conversation, “Well, there’s gotta be something to do around here.” I looked around for something, anything really. Sweetie Belle and Applebloom stayed immobile and seem to have given up hope before even starting.
I searched through the nearby cabinets for something to do. To my luck, I managed to find some old drawing supplies and plenty of paper. I’d completely forgotten about these; we hadn’t used them in months. There were pencils, crayons, markers, even some glue and glitter.
I turned to my friends, exited about my find. “Check it out guys, I found some crayons and stuff. We can draw.”
Applebloom seemed to moan as she spoke, still unmoving from her perch at the window. “Ah’ don’t feel like drawing anythin’.”
Sweetie Belle spoke, “I’m with Applebloom on this one, Scootaloo. We can’t fix boredom by doing something boring.”
Boring? That gave me and idea.
I couldn’t help but form a grin at my devious new plan. “Say, Sweetie Belle, I bet I can design a better dress than you.”
Sweetie Belle finally got up from her limb from and sat on her haunches on our table. “What did you say?” He face seemed ready for a challenge; I know she heard me clearly.
I walked around the table, keeping the act up, “It doesn’t have to be a dress or a design of any kind. I bet I can make any kind of art better than either of you.”
I reached over for the art supplies in the cabinet, and grabbed as much as I could between my hooves. I pulled them out and simply threw them on the floor behind me. Just as expected, both my friend awoke from their limb selves. Their faces turned from sagging boredom to something more fiery and ready for action, with just a little bit of anger.
They both looked towards me as they reached for the art supplies and replied in unison, “You’re on!!”
Boredom, you are no match for me…
***
Well, there’s not really not much to say, that’s kinda what we did for a few hours. I have to admit though, while my boredom-slaying skills are top-notch, by drawing skills are a little lacking. I knew it would be a bit challenging to draw something better looking than my friends, but I didn’t expect them to just wipe the floor with me.
I just drew Ponyville from an imaginary aerial view, complete with a Rainbow Dash rainbow on top. The houses were plain and the colors a bit lacking. I didn’t have any real shading or much depth at all. It looked more like a yearling’s drawing.
Applebloom made something abstract. It was the picture of a clear ocean floor, I think, complete with square fishes and an underwater apple tree. It was the kind of picture that you’d stare at for long periods of time to give your brain time to figure out what its looking at. The underwater apple tree was interesting. It wasn’t just another apple tree surrounded by blue water; the leaves were all wavy seaweed looking things and extra roots kept it tied to the soft, sandy ground. The fishes were all made with contradictory colors like purple and yellow. It all started to give me a headache after a minute.
Sweetie Belle didn’t have any color in her picture because she only used a pencil and a hoof her entire time; maybe it helped that she could use magic and didn’t have to draw with her mouth like the rest of us. She only drew a hillside view of, well, some kind of landscape, but she put impressive detail in everything. I could see every bit of bark in the tree in the foreground to the right. To the left, down the hill, was a gorgeous river, complete with realistic wave patterns and even splashes against a few well-placed rocks. The river also served as a border between a cliff to the left and grasslands the right. Sweetie Belle put awesome detail even in the grass that must’ve been a hundred feet away if this was a real place. In the horizon was a large, dense forest, and the sky above was complete with cloud both in the foreground and the background. To top it all off, she even drew a small dragon flying over the sky. It didn’t have much color, but the entire drawing seemed to look better without it.
Sitting on my haunches, I threw my hooves up in the air, admitting my defeat, “All right guys, you beat me.”
Sweetie Belle got up, “Ha, I knew you couldn’t design anything better than me.”
“At least we weren’t bored for a while. And what exactly were we ‘designing’?”
“I, well, you know what I meant.”
We all giggled at that. It was a nice way to spend some time together; too bad the sun was setting. I looked out the window, and instantly the giggle-reinforced smile on my face fell apart at the dawn. “Awww, sunset already.”
Both Applebloom and Sweetie Belle looked out the window behind me, and lost their smiles as well.
Applebloom said, “S’rry Scoots, but ah’ gotta go. Ah’ma get in trouble if Ah’ make Granny Smith or ma’ sister worry the least bit.”
Sweetie Belle added, “Yeah, I got kinda the same problem with Rarity. You know how over dramatic she can get.” Sweetie Belle turned to face something that wasn’t there and lifted a hoof to her forehead, “Oh, Sweetie Belle how could you? In the small bit of darkness, every creature in the Everfree Forest could’ve snuck out, walked all the way into the center of Ponyville without anypony noticing you and eat you in the center of town.” She raised herself, standing only on her rear hooves and still keeping one hoof on her forehead, “This is the worst possible thing!!” Sweetie Belle fell on her back, mimicking her sister and ending her small act.
Applebloom and I fell on the floor, laughing our flanks off. I for one almost ran out of breath from laughing so hard. Even Sweetie Belle couldn’t keep up her own act and fell on the floor laughing next to us. After a few seconds, we finally laughed it all out and got up again.
Applebloom pointed out, “Aww, dangit, we forgot to clean up. We’ll never get it all fixed up in time now.”
I waved a hoof, “Don’t worry about it. You two get back to your sisters, won’t do any good if you guys get in trouble and can’t come out to play tomorrow.”
Sweetie Belle raised a brow, “You sure you wanna stay and clean up?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about. I got this.”
Sweetie Belle and Applebloom made for the door. We waved our hooves and said our good-byes. Before leaving, Applebloom turned around, “Thanks Scoots, we owe ya one.”
They both left me at the clubhouse with just enough sunlight to make it home. Sometimes cleaning was a bit of a drag, but I didn’t really mind it. It kept me busy, and busy was good a good thing. I didn’t bother to look at the clock, but I didn’t care anyway. I never had a curfew, so I could stay up all night, and no pony could stop me. Not like it matters; everypony else has a curfew, so it’s not like I get to stay up and play longer than my classmates or anything.
Anyway, I took my time cleaning up the Cutie Mark Crusader clubhouse. No curfew, now hurry, so no be deal. I put all the crayons Applebloom and I used back into the little boxes. I put the pencils and erasers back into the old cup and stacked all the unused paper into a neat pile. I put all the supplies back in the cabinet I found them in.
After putting everything away, I noticed that Sweetie Belle and Applebloom forgot their drawings. I snatched some tape from a nearby drawer. Using that tape, I pinned up each of our drawings on the wall. The clubhouse could always use a little more color, and I thought this was perfect way to do it.
Now done with the cleaning, I locked up the clubhouse; or at least the closest thing to that a filly could do with a house with no locks at all. Before closing the windows, I looked out at the night sky. Princess Luna always did make the prettiest stars and I caught myself staring at them for a few minutes. The moon was fairly high and the stars were all bright, so it must’ve been an hour or so since my friends left. I closed all the windows and left the clubhouse.
There was still one other thing I had to do before I went to bed.
***
I roamed on the dirt road leading out of town. Behind me was Ponyville. Well, technically I’m still within Ponyville’s borders, but the town part of the town was behind me. To the left of me was a bunch of nothing on some unused grasslands. To my right was a long, old, white picket fence and an ocean of apple trees. It was hard to miss Sweet Apple Acres, even at night.
I’d been down this road hundreds of times before, maybe even literally. I knew where all the big rocks were and all the spots where the fence was broken. I had all night to myself so I kept a comfortable pace down the road. The moonlight was dim, but my eyes had plenty of time to adjust, so I could see just fine. The air was chilly without the sun, but I’ve made this trip plenty of times in even colder weather. It didn’t really faze me, but I rubbed my wings on myself out of habit anyway.
The grassy area to the right wasn’t completely full of nothing; there was in fact one thing I was looking for, an old oak tree. To the regular old pony, it was just another oak tree, you know, seen one, seen ‘em all, but to me and my family, it was significant. It stood at the top of a hill, visible from the road but still a bit of a trot to get to. Still, in the same spot I did every night, I turned off the road and made my way down and back up the grassy hills to get to the tree.
The grass was almost as tall as me. It was home to plenty of bugs. Fireflies danced around in the late-spring night. Dozens, if not hundreds of crickets played their songs to each other in the tall grass. Even a few bees decided to work late collecting nectar and spreading pollen to and from all the different flowers.
After the small hike, I finally made it to the oak tree. Even though I’ve done this so many times before, I still get a little nervous. I took a second to rub one leg with a hoof and I braced myself and my emotions. I walked around the oak tree, stepping over the ancient roots and found what I was looking for in the same place every night: a gravestone.
I looked above at the night sky. The moon was high above me; it must’ve been midnight, or a least getting close to it. I looked back at the gravestone. This was something I just had to do. I sighed to myself once again before saying, “Hey mom… sorry I’m a little late.”
I waited a moment. I always did this, but I don’t know why. What was I expecting, a reply? It didn’t matter; this wasn’t the time or the place to start arguing with myself. I gave the silence a moment to pass before continuing. “I had a good day today. We learned about how volcanoes work in school today; I thought that was cool.”
“After class, Rainbow Dash spent some time with me. She’s the coolest. She showed me the new tricks she was working on and even let me sit on her back during a few of them. She tried to help me learn to fly a little more. For now, all I really need is practice. I get off the ground and even hover or fly just a bit, but I keep running out of breath and energy after a few seconds.”
“After that, Applebloom and Sweetie Belle got done with their chores and we hung out for the rest of the day. We tried for our cutie marks again, but I guess we’re not geologist or rock farmers. I still don’t know the difference between stalagmites and stalactites.”
“We got bored after that, but I fixed it by challenging my friends to an art competition. I got beat badly. Sweetie Belle didn’t have any color, but she could make amazing detail. Applebloom’s drawing had a bunch of color, but not so much detail, but she made it abstract and kinda cool in an art kinda way, you know.”
I gave it all another moment of silence. This is what I meant to say from the start.
“Anyway, I bet dad still blames me for… you know, everything. I still don’t know where he went or where he is now. I wish he didn’t leave like that. I wish I could find him, just to see him, but he probably still hates me.”
“I… don’t know if you hate me, but I hope you can forgive me sooner or later. I wish you were here. I wish I knew what you looked like. What you sounded like. What kind of pony you’d be like. I’d bet you’d be an awesome mom. I know you have every reason to hate me just like dad, and even if you still do…”
“… I just hope you know…”
“…I’m …. I…”
“I hope I didn’t hurt you. I never meant to, honest. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“I… I…”
I couldn’t say it. I’ve tried to do it a hundred times before, but it still hurts. It hurts so much. I’m no cry-baby, but tears still escaped from my eyes and fell down my muzzle. Some of it even fell on my mom’s grave. I’m done. I’m done! I can’t take it anymore. I turned around and galloped away into the tall grass. Everypony was right; I am just a scared little chicken.
I’m sorry… for ever being alive…
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EXPAND THIS STORY! IT NEEDS TO BE ADDED ON!
i1109.photobucket.com/albums/h436/lauchazonasur/th_aplausos.gif
My dear sir, you have evoked feels.
so death by childbirth then blame child? i formally request a chapter in which her dad is run over with a combine harvester
4175900
Ditto!
4175918 Your request is seconded with the following addendum:
The combine harvester is not enough. The implement that shall be utilized for the impact shall be the complete and utter sundering of local reality, unto the point at which the spin of the component quarks becomes erratic and inconsistent, literally wiping him from existence in an explosion of sub-sub-atomic agony.
4176529 so this
but implemented with farming equipment ? i approve
Its rare that I enjoy a first person story this much. Well done
4175918 4176529 4176568
I'd seriously consider writing that chapter, but I have a tendency to type very bad gore scenes.
4177242 just channel righteous anger that such an s.o.b could exist you'll do fine
4177242
Channel your righteous fury! Remember that he is the very essence of all that is wrong in the world, and purge him! In the eyes of justice he has been found....wanting....
I wish this wasn't a one shot
Not sure why but judging from the story description and the Sad tag, I thought it was going to be something really F'ed up. Like when they were drawing, Scootaloo draws something and tells them, "Look, I drew Apple Bloom's parents!"
4177242 I like Scootaloo stories, I'm working on one right now called Ace Combat: Divided Feelings. Want to check it out?
This... this was sad. Very, very sad. Not tear reducing sad, but depressing sad. And quite well written as well. The theory is overused, but you still made it interesting, and I was surprised when the gravestone scene rolled around. Good job!
4935406 It's nice to hear that you liked it.
also, is it really an overused idea? I honestly haven't seen it anywhere else (though I haven't looked for it either). The story was actually one of several disturbing theories about Equestria I've realized/thought up while trying to think of story ideas. This one in particular just required the least explaining, so its the only one I've written so far.
one last thing, I can tell you've read a lot of stories. I don't plan on ever doing anything with 'em, so if were to pm you those theories, would you tell me if you've seen 'em before?
4935878 Yes, it is a very common idea to have Scootaloo be an orphan. Very common indeed. Would you like me to PM you the links to a few?
4935905 oooooh, hehee.
I think we had a misunderstanding. I know almost everypony thinks that scootaloo is an orphan. I though the overused theory you were talking about was a bit more specific, like the idea that her mom was killed a birth. I hate awkward misunderstandings...
4937401 Oh, that's what you meant. That one isn't used as often... I've seen it done only a few times, but to find it I would have to search through my ridiculously long favorites list. And Scootaloo is one of the characters I read the most about, so it wouldn't necessarily help to filter the search with her character tag. Oh well, I'm sure I'll see it one day. It is a rather common theory that her dad hates her, and leaves her. Once again, I need to find the story, but when I do, I'll send you the link.
4937584 awhh, don't 'bout it. thanks for offering it anyway.
4937798 Okay, no problem.
4935406
Then you've seen her parents? What episode?
6677264 I never said that. I haven't finished Season Five yet, but I don't think Scootaloo's parents have been shown yet.
6687924
My bad...I thought that you were implying that the theory was incorrect.