"Good night, gals! I'll see you tomorrow!" Scootaloo yelled to her two best friends.
"G'night!" Apple Bloom yelled.
"Good night!" Sweetie Belle replied.
After they said their goodbyes, everyone went home with their families. Everyone, except Scootaloo. She walked alone through the dark night, heading toward the shanty side of Ponyville...the place that is almost never visited. Unknown to others, even to Rainbow Dash, this is the area in which Scootaloo resided.
In the far end of the shanty area, there was an old house. The windows were cracked or dusty, the paint was almost all chipped away, and the wood was old. The inside was worse than the outside: the wallpaper was peeling, the furniture had springs popping out of it, and her bed only consisted of a mattress with a pillow and blanket. While the place was awful, this was the area she could call her home. She walked in, went to her room, set her stuff down, and noticed a glowing light next to her bed.
She trotted over to the nightstand next to her bed, and saw a vanilla cupcake with chocolate frosting on top. A lit candle stuck out of the top, and it looked recent. Next to the cupcake was a piece of paper, and the words "I'm so proud of you!" could be seen written on it.
She smiled as she read the note. She picked up the cupcake and began eating it, and then she noticed something else. On her bed, there were three wrapped gift boxes, and a single envelope. She unwrapped the first gift, and found a bottle of "Super Stubborn Tree Sap Remover". While she knew that the likeliness of getting covered in tree sap were much lower now, she liked the gift anyways. The next present was a set of four knee pads. Oh! These will be useful! She thought to herself. The final gift was a little heavy. Upon opening the box, she found what she counted up to be fifty gold bits. She gasped. Wow! This...this is amazing. Was all she could come up with. She knew that she would have to save this money, and make it last for as long as she can.
This was not an unusual occurrence for her, surprisingly. In fact, this was happening to her for six years. These mysterious events were only happening for her, and she had no clue why. All she knew, was someone was out there...looking after her from afar.
Six Years Ago...
The first event was the one she would never forget.
It was after school, and she was quite stressed out. She had homework to accomplish that night, and the fact that Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were harassing her didn't help either.
"Seriously! Look at those wings!" Diamond Tiara commented.
"They're like those of a chicken!" Silver Spoon quipped, making the two share a laugh.
Scootaloo tried her best to ignore them, but it was no use. The two bullies continued to tease and torment her. They continued to make jokes about her tiny wings, and then went to making fun of her blank flank. The usual. Scootaloo grumbled. Suddenly, she felt her legs hit something and she tripped right into a muddy puddle. It turns out that Diamond Tiara had tripped her, and she along with her annoying friend were laughing about it. She was on the verge of tears...until DT's trademark flew right off her head, followed by a high-pitched "whir" noise.
"Huh?! What was that?!" Silver Spoon freaked out a little as she looked around for the source of the event.
"Let's get out of here!" Diamond Tiara yelled as she picked up her now bent Tiara and fled out of the area, leaving behind a very confused and muddy Scootaloo.
"What...was that about?" She asked herself out loud, as if expecting an answer.
She then noticed that something orange was on the ground. It seemed to have disturbed the dirt when it came. The object was unlike anything Scootaloo had seen before: it was pointed, orange, and made of a squishy material she could assume was rubber. She examined the object, and for some unknown reason...put it in her saddlebag and took it home. She wasn't sure why she did it, but she felt like she should.
This wasn't the only time it happened that year. In fact, there were many instances that followed when an orange object would fly near her and hit something. Sometimes, one would hit a wall to get her attention to something. Once, she was looking for her friends...and one of the rubber dart-like objects hit a wind chime hanging on somepony's porch. She looked in that direction and found her friends near that area. To her, it was like these objects were used by somepony to interact with her. At first, this disturbed her a little...but later learned to appreciate it, due to it helping her quite a bit.
Fast-forward to about two years after that. This was when the items appeared.
Now, since Scootaloo lacked a job...or parents for that matter, she had to depend on the kindness of others to get by. Two years after the rubber dart, items appeared in her home. She was unsure when or why they came, but she assumed it came from...whoever shot the rubber projectiles near her.
The objects given to her varied in types and purpose. One day while in school, her last pencil broke...and she ended up failing a lesson because of it. When she came home that night, there were five wooden pencils on her nightstand...with no sign of who left them. She certainly didn't: she was using the same old pencil for weeks...and now she had five brand-new ones.
Another time, she came home after her birthday party (arranged by Pinkie, of course) and discovered that there was a knitted blanket on her bed, and the old raggedy one that she used to own was gone. She was pleasantly surprised by the gift, but no matter who she asked, everyone said that they didn't now who gave it to her.
Fast-forward to about two more years after that.
Scootaloo almost always hung out with her friends to do crusading. However, there were some days when she had to stay home. Usually, she was either ill or busy. When she was home, there was nopony to talk to. She would often find herself staring at the wall or idly talking to herself.
Then the notes came.
Every once in a while, she would come home to find a piece of paper in her room with a message scribbled on it. They would say motivating or comforting things like, "Try your best! You'll make it!" or "Don't stress yourself. Confidence will keep you going in this world, no matter how difficult it may be."
One day, she was home sick with a temperature. Her throat was sore, she was light-headed, and was aching all over. She spent the entire day in her bed, reading a book. She would periodically fall asleep, wake up, and fall asleep again. When she finished a chapter, she fell asleep. When Scootaloo awoke, she smelled something. Something that was hot. When she rolled over in her bed, she noticed a steaming cup of something with a card next to it. Upon further inspection, it turned out to be a cup of tea...and there was steam coming up from the liquid, indicating that it was freshly brewed. She took a sip from the tea and it felt relieving as she took another sip. It tasted of lemon and honey. She read the card. "Warmest wishes for a speedy recovery!" it said, written in pen. There was no signature, but the thought that someone hoped she would get better gave her a warm feeling in her heart.
That brings us to the day when she got her cutie mark. Scootaloo began thinking back on all the times this..."mystery guardian" as she called him...fired one of those rubber darts near her, or left her a useful item. Suddenly, she remembered that there was an envelope that was with the three gifts she received. She opened it, unfolded the letter, and began reading it...
Six years ago...
My name is William. William Ross. I was a typical country man who lived in the woods.
My life could've been better, but I guess it could've been much worse. I grew up with my older brother and father in the woods along the countryside. No, we weren't "hillbillies" as people liked to call us. We simply liked to live off the land.
My brother was a talented fisherman, and often took me on fishing trips when we were kids. It was one of my favorite things to do with him. Heh, I remember the time we caught a HUGE catfish. We had it for dinner that night, and we got so full...we had to give the rest to our dog.
Then there was my father. My father was a marine veteran, and he was tough as nails. Strong, brave, and he never gave up on anything. He was also a talented gunsmith and armorer. He made his own ammunition in his backyard, and modified his own signature weapon that he got from being in the service: A Barrett M82a1 with a suppressor for stealthy hunting. I admired that gun so very much. In fact, I loved it so much...he made custom rubber .50 MGB rounds just for me to practice with when I was twelve. I practiced with his rifle so much, he was constantly making more rubber ammunition for me. He ended up making a large amount one night...I'm not sure how he did it, but he made over three thousand rubber rounds. Anyways, we hunted quite a lot. We took on small game, like hogs...and worked our way up to actually killing a grizzly bear. Normally, we would avoid those. The meat on bears were not very tasty and in fact, gamey...unless prepared the right way. Well, after killing it...we took it home...and ended up eating the meat over the course of four days. It was a good thing my father remembered my mother's recipe for a pretty tasty bear stew.
Oh yeah...my mother...
Well, I wish I met my mother. My father would tell me that she was the kindest, sweetest woman he ever met. She almost never thought about her own desires, and would take better care of others than her own self! However, she was no pushover. My brother once told me the story of how an annoying neighbor would constantly come over and yell at the house. One day...she got so fed up that she tore a wooden board right out of the old porch, and whopped the guy right in the face with it. He never bothered them again. Now, you may be wondering where she was. Well, I was told by my father that she died while giving birth to me. It's a saddening thought, but I am forever grateful for her giving her life to make sure I kept mine.
When I was fourteen, my father started complaining of chest pains and a bad cough. At first, it was just a random cough every once in a while...but then it escalated to a dry cough. When he began coughing up blood, my brother and I took him into the hospital...where he was diagnosed with lung cancer. This devastated me and my brother, who was nineteen at the time. We couldn't afford the chemotherapy, so all we could do was take him home and try to obtain the money for the therapy. We began doing all we could to get the money. My brother got a job in the city, and I stayed in the woods to nurse my father...praying every night that he would get better.
It was a week before my brother would return home from a long work trip when I awoke in the night to my father gasping and wheezing. He had coughs at night before, but this was the worst. He sounded like he was really in trouble. I ran out into the living room, and found my father on the floor...blood around his mouth. Tears welled up in my eyes as I held his hand in mine. I remember him looking straight at me, and saying "I love you two...so...so very much..."...before closing his eyes...forever....
It was not easy for me to break the news to my brother. In fact, it was possibly the most difficult thing I ever had to do. EVER.
When I was eighteen, my brother began experiencing fevers. In fact, the fevers he had were often...and his neck began swelling up. It was horrifying...so I took him to the hospital. It was the unfortunate truth that he had leukemia. Again, we couldn't afford the chemotherapy...and the price seemed to have risen since the last time we checked.
Just three days after, he succumbed to the cancer...and he died in his sleep.
This left me spiraling down the endless abyss of depression. I was often alone. Using the land and the rifle left to me in my father's will, I continued to hunt animals and make money off the skins and meats. I almost never found myself smiling, or experiencing any kind of joy.
Finally, there was the one thing that finally made me give up. My mortgage was underwater, and I struggled every day to pay my bills. Despite countless efforts to obtain the money required to keep my own land, I received a letter of foreclosure in the mail...saying that I could no longer own my forest, and that I had to move out within a week. I couldn't leave. This was my birthplace. This was where I shared countless memories with my brother and father. I didn't want to leave.
I finally decided to end it all. I grabbed a backpack, and grabbed every object in the house that held some sort of sentimental value to me. Pictures, the raccoon cap that my father gave to me on my fourth birthday, my brother's lucky mussel shell that he took with him on fishing trips, my father's sniper rifle, the remaining 1,835 rubber rounds that my father made for me, and the rifle's suppressor were either put in the backpack, or taken in my hands. The pain from my depression was unbearable. I wanted to die! I left my home with my most treasured items, the sniper in hand. If I'm going to die, I want to die in the same forest my family did. I thought to myself.
I stuck the suppressor on the sniper rifle and went out into the night. It was cold and wet. My coat and jeans did almost nothing to protect me from the elements...but at this point, I didn't care. I just wanted to be free from the pain of my lonely life. I needed to find a place where I would not be found...at least not for a while. While travelling for a place to take my own life, my attention was drawn to a water puddle on the ground. The reflection of the moon looked back at me. Instead of stepping over it, I decided to put my foot in it to make a little splash. However...when I did, my foot sank...and then my whole leg, and finally...I fell through the puddle entirely. I fell through something that wasn't water...it felt like cotton. My surroundings were pink and blue, and I could tell I was descending. I was so confused that I fainted, and continued to fall.
I woke up inside a forest. However, this didn't look anything like the forest near my house. This forest looked more...cartoony, if I could describe it. However, it was definitely a forest. A dense one, too. I checked myself. All my items were with me, including my Barrett sniper rifle. The suppressor was on the tip. My thoughts about committing suicide left as my depression became curiosity. I got up, rifle in hand, and went down the path in the forest...towards a light.
I exited the forest, and gasped at the sight. It seemed to be the afternoon. It was a place unlike anything I have ever seen...and more beautiful than anything I have ever witnessed in fact or fiction. I continued to go down the trail, and came across a small town. The thing that shocked me the most were the residents. They were like horses...but...smaller. They were very colorful...and seemed very cheerful.
I figured it wouldn't be too much of a bad thing to walk into the town. The second I stepped past the sign, one of the ponies screamed. Judging by the mane style...it was female. She pointed at me, and soon enough...I could feel many pairs of eyes in my direction. I froze. I almost dropped my rifle, and stared back.
"Aah! Monster!" one yelled.
"Get it out of town!" another yelled.
Suddenly, I found myself running back toward the forest. Rocks and other items were being thrown at me, and some ponies began chasing me. I ran faster than I ever did in my entire life, and I finally reentered the forest.
"He's in the Everfree!" I heard another pony yell.
I put my rifle on my back and began climbing a tree near the entrance. Once I got up in the branches, I took a second to catch my breath. After I heard the ponies enter, search, and leave, I finally relaxed. Figures. I enter a random town and almost get killed by farm animals. I thought, grimly. I continued to sit in that tree, feeling the nice cool breeze hit my face. Feeling curious, I pulled out my Barrett sniper rifle, positioned it on a tree branch, and peered down at the town through the scope.
The town was as peaceful as the scenery. Ponies were performing daily activities that were normal to humans: walking their pets, selling goods, gardening, and more. As I watched, my attention was drawn to a little scene that was taking place near the middle of town. I zoomed in on what was happening, and saw three ponies. They all seemed young. After watching a little, I realized that the pink one and the gray one were bullying an orange one. Due to the look of unhappiness on the orange foal's face, I knew that they must've been saying some pretty rude things to her.
Suddenly, I saw one thing that plainly made me mad. They tripped her, and she splashed into a muddy puddle. Okay, that was just cruel. Almost as if by instinct, I loaded a rubber round in the sniper...and took aim. I wanted to hit that stupid tiara on her head, just to tell her to piss off. I held my breath, took careful aim, and fired. It took a second, until the bullet hit. Bull's-eye. I watched in amusement as the tiara flew off the top of her noggin. She panicked, grabbed the object, and fled.
"Haha! Take that, bitch!" I yelled from the tree branch I sat in.
I then peered through my scope again to see the orange foal, muddy, get back to walking to...I supposed was her home. I'll keep an eye on her. Just to be sure she doesn't get bothered again. I continued to watch her through the scope of my rifle. As I made sure she safely walked to her destination, I noticed that she was heading straight for a really cruddy side of the town. The buildings were all colorless, and cracked. The windows that weren't broken were caked with so much dust, they looked like they were pulled out of the ground. Finally, I saw her reach her home. Her home wasn't the best house in town, but it was intact. As she entered, I realized that her house was almost like mine: rickety and old.
The sun was beginning to go down, so I climbed down the tree. After laying on a bed of twigs, I went to sleep.
Every day after that, I would climb that tree and watch over the town. There wasn't much exciting going on. However, my attention was often drawn to that orange foal and her two friends. They would often do these CRAZY stunts that would strangely...get them covered in tree sap. Their failed attempts to accomplish such tasks were quite amusing to watch. I often found myself laughing not at them, but at their curiosity...because that was exactly how I was when I was a kid. Like the time I tried catching a fish in my mouth with my brother, and I ended up with a mouthful of river dirt.
I then realized something: I was smiling again. I actually laughed. The activities that this silly bunch of ponies partook of were hilarious! Still, I was unsure of why they were doing it.
After two years of using my sniper to keep an eye on that orange foal, I realized that I felt obligated to protect her. I knew it wouldn't kill me if I didn't, but...something about it felt right. Of course, I realized that I was focusing on protecting her rather than my own health. I had been living off of nuts and roots in the forest for the longest time. So...why am I doing this? I often asked myself. I adored this little foal. She was like a miniature version of me: Curious, adventurous, and...lacking a family. Yes, I soon figured out that she lived by herself. All alone in that pitiful little house. Just the thought of my pain being experienced by someone else made me tear up. I then came to the conclusion: I simply adored her, like I said. Even though I never met her, and she never met me, I still thought of her like another family member. I had to do something. I had to interact with her somehow to make her life less miserable.
I then decided that the best thing to do is to simply look for a need, and find a way to fulfill it. To start, I saw her accidentally break a pencil in her school one day. After watching her get a bad grade on the assignment, I knew I had to do something.
I jumped out of the tree, snuck back into the town, and went into a store. I secretly stole about five wooden pencils, went into the shanty side of the town, went in her house, set the pencils on her nightstand, and went back into the forest to continue monitoring her safety.
I didn't think that was enough after a while. While she did seem pleased with the gifts I would leave her, I still had a strong desire to talk to her. I decided to leave notes for her, motivating her to get by in the day.
One time, she got quite sick. I could only assume it was the flu. I decided to make tea with my mother's old recipe. At this point, I was obtaining items on my trips to and from the town that I soon realized was named Ponyville. I picked some lemons from a tree growing in the outskirts of town, and stole some tea packets. When I got home, I set up a fire and boiled some water in a kettle with some tea. After that, I squeezed in some fresh honey I took from a beehive hanging from a tree in the park (which was a bitch to obtain, due to many angry bees). I took the kettle along with a cup, and went into Ponyville. I snuck into the orange foal's home (who's name I learned was Scootaloo), poured some of the steaming tea into a cup, and set it next to her bed. I left a note next to it and left the building.
That brings us to...I would estimate six years since the first day I came to Ponyville. All I can say is, I learned a lot ever since the very beginning. I learned the true reason why Scootaloo and her friends were off doing these crazy activities: they wanted to earn their cutie marks. Cutie marks represent their special talents, and they have been trying countless times to obtain theirs.
One day, today, I was doing my usual monitoring of her actions. They were talking to that pink foal. Her name was Diamond Tiara. I saw that she wasn't the bad guy here, it was actually her MOTHER. Well, it made me feel bad for shooting her tiara that one day. Well, as I watched...I saw something spectacular. They got consumed in a ball of light, and when the light was gone...they finally got their cutie marks! I almost dropped my gun! My smile stretched longer than a football field as they jumped in excitement at their accomplishment. I smiled so much, I found myself tearing up. Then I realized that I was actually crying. These weren't pain tears, oh no. These were tears of joy. I was so proud of her! I knew I had to do something special for her.
I jumped out of my tree, and looked through my inventory of mostly stolen items. I pulled out some of the best, all the bits I collected on my travels, and went out. I knew I had to do something special for her. I snuck my way to the bakery. Luckily, it was being run by a pretty nervous-looking stallion. I walked in, and he gasped.
"Shh," I said, "I'll give you ten bits If I get a simple cupcake, and you don't scream upon seeing me. Please."
"Y-yes! R-right away." He responded, shakily.
Wasting no time, he set a cupcake on the counter. He stuck a candle in it and lit it. I handed him the appropriate money with the promised bonus and snuck out. By now, it was getting dark, and the party celebrating the cutie marks was dying out. I quickly reached Scootaloo's home and set her gifts down. I then got an idea. It was a drastic idea, but it was something I felt like I had to do. Before leaving, I scribbled down a note that said...
"Dear Scootaloo. Congratulations for finally getting your cutie mark! It warms my heart to know that you have finally found your purpose in life. Listen, I am tired of not being able to talk to you. If you wish for us to meet, please stand in front of the entrance of the Everfree." Scootaloo read out loud.
Her face lit up and she got excited. She always wondered who this mysterious pony was. She looked at the shelf on her wall. On it, there were a total of one thousand and twenty two orange rubber objects. She looked at them and realized that this was finally her chance to meet whoever this was. Wasting no time, she got on her scooter, put on her kneepads and helmet, and begad riding straight for the Everfree.
I was nervous. Was she going to scream upon seeing my face? Was she going to be afraid when she saw who- what I was? There was only one way to find out. I heard the sound of wheels incoming, and then they stopped. I looked down...and sure enough, there she was. Well, it was now...or never.
Scootaloo got off her scooter and stood there. "Hello?" She called out.
"H-hello." A male voice called out.
"Are...you the mysterious guardian?"
"Is that what you call me? Huh. Never thought of myself that way. My real name is William."
"You...have really helped me a lot these past six years. Thank you, very much."
"Hey, it's just the right thing to do. The pleasure's all mine."
"Could you do something for me?"
"What is it that you ask for?"
"I want you to show me who you are. Wherever you are."
"But...I am afraid you may be startled upon seeing my face. That is what happened the last time I came to town."
"Please...I don't care how ugly you might think you are. Just please, come into view."
"If you say so."
She saw something drop out from a tree. It stood up on it's hind legs, and looked to her. She got a little scared, but she stood where she was. Then, it came into view. It was dirty, stood on two legs, had a strange face, and wore raggedy clothes. In his hands, he carried a long tube-like object with a scope mounted on top. Sticking out of his pockets were some of the rubber objects that she recognized from the countless times she had them hit something near her. She then realized that this...thing...was the Mystery Guardian. The one who was looking after and protecting her.
"It...really is you..." Scootaloo said, slowly.
William sighed, "Yes, it is me. I know, I'm not one of you. I'm simply a human. An ugly, dirty human."
"N-no. You're not ugly."
"Scary?"
"No."
"The other ponies thought so. The first time I came into town, I was chased out. They were horrified."
"Well, that's not fair. They didn't give you a chance."
William leaned his gun on a tree and sat down.
"So...it really was you who launched these objects near me?" Scootaloo asked as she held out one of the rubber bullets.
William looked at it, and smiled, "Heh, yep. It was the only way for me to interact with you."
"Why...did you decide to help me in the first place?"
"I too...have no parents. I never met my mother, and my father died when I was fourteen. For a long time, it was just my brother and I."
"Brothers and sisters really are amazing, aren't they?"
"Indeed. My brother was with me until he died. I was only eighteen."
"That's awful!"
"Mhm. I saw that you and that rainbow pony share a close bond. Almost sisterly."
"She is like my sister. The sister I never had."
"You're lucky to have her."
"I know..."
Silence filled the area, until Scootaloo broke it.
"However...that still doesn't answer my question. Why did you want to help me in the first place?" she asked.
"I just..." William started, "I didn't want you to go through the same struggles that I went through. No one deserves to suffer the way I did...and to be honest, I care about you...even though we have never met until this da-"
William was cut off by Scootaloo jumping into his lap and wrapping her forelegs around him. William responded by hugging her back.
"Thank you, William. For everything. For looking after me, for protecting me, and for supporting me..." Scootaloo said, tightening her embrace on William and nuzzling him.
"You're welcome," William responded, tears of joy forming in his eyes as he ruffled her mane.