//------------------------------//
// The Guilt of the Innocent 
// Story: Depression is Tragic 
// by artistwithouttalent 
//------------------------------//

	The crème-colored foal paced back and forth on a cloud, waiting for things to be sorted out, for her friend to return. The adults had to know that this was all an accident, and then they’d let Dash go free, right?

After several hours, she saw two ponies, one significantly larger than the other, coming towards her. At first, she was going to fly over and give Dash a hug, but as she approached, she saw that neither of those ponies was Rainbow Dash, but Bullet and somepony she’d never seen before. A little later, carriages from the CDPD showed up, sirens blaring. One of them, she noticed, was a paddy carriage. A few more hours later, the policecolts came out with a much smaller pony accompanying them, in hoofcuffs. As Fluttershy approached this foal, shock was the first emotion she felt, followed shortly after by guilt, intense guilt.

“This is my fault,” she said. “If I could just fly better, or stand up to those bullies—“

Large tears welled up in her eyes, and she bolted to her bunkroom, crying the whole way.
•••
She rolled over again, looking at the ceiling tiles.

Fluttershy hadn’t left her bunkroom in days. Normally, this was punished by automatic failure of the course, but given the events that had taken place, camp personnel gave her some breathing room; she was a rather emotional pony, after all, and this event can’t have been good for her. Suddenly someone knocked on her door. Camp personnel had come to check on her each day to make sure nothing had happened, and to bring her some food. This time she didn’t feel like getting up.

“I’m in here,” she called out. 

“I know,” came the voice from beyond the door. This voice wasn’t the camp counselor, but still a voice Fluttershy knew. “You haven’t left your room in days.”

Fluttershy had to get up and see what this pony wanted. She slowly flew to the door and opened it a crack.

“What do you want, Bullet?” she said, in as assertive a tone as she could muster.

“I came to see if you wanted help preparing for the exam. It’s coming in a few days, you know,” he replied, looking somewhat sorrowful.

“I thought they were going to excuse me because of—“

She couldn’t get her complete thought out before she burst into fresh sobs, collapsing onto Bullet’s shoulder. He just sat there, his role changing from trainer to comforter.

Once she had calmed down, Bullet explained that the camp would excuse her class absences, but not the exam.

“Don’t you remember from the first day?” Bullet asked. “The sergeant was all like ‘I don’t care what happens in camp, if you’re in camp that day, you take your exam that day.’”

“Oh. Yeah, I kind of remember that,” she answered, remembering Dash thinking how funny the sergeant’s seriousness was that first day. Thinking of Dash made her want to cry again but she managed to keep her composure.

"Why do you want to help me, Bullet? You made fun of me, told me your baby brother could fly better than me." she reminded him.

Being reminded of that incident made him shrink a little, but he was persistent.

"I know, 'Shy, and I'm sorry, I just want to help you," he finally said.
•••