//------------------------------//
// Memories 
// Story: Crusade No More 
// by AlbinoMunk 
//------------------------------//

	Crunching of dead leaves under my hooves as I walk through the age old forest is all that can be heard, besides my steady breathing. The trees are almost bare of their leaves, a cold wind blowing against me. To anyone else, it would seem I was just wandering around, not heading for something at all. There is a small worn down pathway I’m walking on, can only be seen if you know it’s there, worn down over a few years of hooves walking or running down this path. My breaths create a small puff in front of my muzzle. I take a look around once more, ruffling my wings to try and get some warmth back into them; I start to realize that I’m close to it now. Damn, it’s cold out here; I should have gotten a thicker coat. I’m so close to it now.

As I walk a little further, I can see my destination in the distance. Without knowing it, I have picked up my pace a little bit. As I get closer, the ache in my chest grows. I finally reach the clearing, staring at the thing I came all the way out here to see. The clubhouse. I’m surprised the thing is still standing after all these years. The thing looks pitiful, what with the broken door, the peeling paint, part of the railing busted, and I think I see some of the roof caving in. It’s a complete mess. Yet it’s a place where a lot of memories were created. Some were good, some were bad, others were just plain awesome, while others are really simple.

I walk up to the ramp that leads to the clubhouse, testing it first with my hoof to see if the old thing would even hold me. Once I was satisfied, I walked up. I stand in front of the broken door, just barely hanging by its hinges. I step inside, ducking a little. I just stand there, looking around. Most of the stuff was still there. The table in the corner, the random things of equipment from past adventures, even the map of Ponyville is still hanging on the wall. I walk over to the map and chuckle at the sight, remembering the day we went all around town, trying to figure out what we were good at. It had all the major spots we could think of: Twilight's Library, Sweet Apple Acres, Rarity's Boutique, the school, and even the town hall. There is a pathway marked between each of them with a red crayon, and also each placed crossed out with the same crayon once we tried to find our cutie marks and it didn't work. I look around again, and that’s when I see something that brings a couple tears to my eyes.

It’s a picture of me, of us, huddled together, smiling, trying to get all of us in the picture. I slowly walk over to it. Standing in front of it, I just stare at the picture, looking at each of us in turn. I look at a little girl, with curly pink hair, giant smile, and eyes shining like no other. Her name is Sweetie Belle. I take a look at the other girl next to her, with long, red hair, big bright red bow in it, flashing a toothy grin. Apple Bloom, we called her. Then I take a look at the final girl in the picture and chuckle a little. It’s me, with my magenta spiky hair, that cocky grin, narrowed eyes. The one thing we all have in common. . .were the capes we were wearing. Those capes symbolized our club, our friendship: the Cutie Mark Crusaders.

It was a little club we all made together, a band of little kids without their cutie marks. I have mine now; I would have never guessed, back then, that it was the one thing I love doing the most, going pretty damn fast and doing awesome tricks with a scooter. I heard Sweetie Belle got hers for singing, which now that I look back on it, was pretty obvious, what with her angelic singing voice. I believe Apple Bloom found out she was really good with. . .what was that word? Oh yeah: carpentry; something with wood and building, I think.

I place my hoof on the picture, remember all the fun times we had. I take one last look around, and I see something on the ground. Confused, I walk over to it. It’s covered with some old leaves. I quickly brush them aside and gasp a little at what I saw. It was one of our capes, torn up. The cape was a maroon color, with our emblem decently stitched into the middle of it. It was a figure of a foal wearing the cape on a light blue background, nothing too fancy. It definitely didn't look that fancy now, all torn up. Memories of that day come flooding, unbidden; the day when the CMC broke up. The day our friendships ended.

It was only a few years ago, maybe three, but I remember it all too well. It started off as a normal day, really; we all met up at the clubhouse, trying to think of new things to try. We sort of just sat around, listing random things before realizing we had already done everything we listed. It wasn’t really that big of a deal, but then I started getting angry, angry and frustrated. Angry that we couldn’t think of anything good; frustrated that we wasted all that time and had nothing to show for it. The others tried to calm me down, but I wouldn’t listen. I started getting worked up, saying things I should have never said. I called Sweetie Belle out on how she was holding us back, being all dainty and fragile and whatnot. It seemed like she did nothing but constantly put down the ideas that I came up with. She started crying, but I didn’t notice, because that’s when Apple Bloom came in, telling me I was out of line; that I went too far. I didn’t care; I was in the heat of the moment. I practically yelled at her, calling her a farm hick, saying she was stupid and that it showed in school with how bad she did. Tears formed in her eyes, and her face showed pure anger and pure hurt.

“You ain’t all that great either, Scoots. Y’all are reckless, bull-headed, ’n’ always putting our lives in danger with those crazy ideas you get. Y’all have a serious anger problem. Ah mean look at what you done; you made poor Sweetie Belle cry.” Apple Bloom sniffled, trying to hold back tears. “Yeah, I know we been havin’ a hard time figuring it out, but that don’t excuse you acting like such a jerk. Ah thought we were friends, but friends don’t treat each other like this,” she finished.

I was hurt by what she said, and that hurt only made my anger worse. “Well then, maybe i ain't a crusader!” I yelled at her. The anger vanished from her eyes, only hurt left in them. “And maybe,” I yank off my cape and throw it on the ground “we aren't friends, neither!” That did it. Tears started flowing from Apple Bloom’s eyes. She gently grabs Sweetie Belle’s leg, putting her other leg around her, trying to comfort her. “L-let’s go, Sweetie Belle,” she whispered to her. Sweetie Belle clings to her, crying her eyes out. They both start slowly walking towards the door then stop. Apple Bloom looked back at me, and I look at her. She shakes her head and walks out.

I stood there, seething with anger, staring at the door. Then I slowly start to calm down, remembering what happened, then my anger flares up again, this time towards me. I start stomping on the cape, then pick it up and start tearing at it. I stop mid tear, my anger quickly turning into sorrow, and toss the cape aside. Tears start welling in my eyes at the revelation at what just happened, I looked around the clubhouse, then quickly ran out, hopped on my scooter and drove away.

I stare at the cape in my hooves now, remembering that it was mine, tears dropping onto it. I hold the cape close and silently cry. After a few minutes, I wipe my eyes, trying to get rid of the tears, and walk out of the clubhouse, the cape slung over my back. I look around the clearing, remembering all the fun times we had out here. I remember the time we were preparing for our school talent show, and how much of a disaster it was. With me trying to sing, Apple Bloom coming up with the moves, and Sweetie Belle coming up with the costumes. We didn't get the medal we were trying to go for, but we got a different one, the most comedic act. We didn't care, it was just another opportunity to get our cutie marks, but were still happy that we actually won something.	

I slowly start down the ramp, not even bother making sure it can hold my weight this time. As I reach the bottom, I take one last look at the falling apart clubhouse. A few fresh tears rolling down my face, I turn away and start down the same worn pathway I used to get here. I was leaving behind a great piece of my childhood. A place where I had the greatest memories. . .and the worst. No matter what happened, I would always remember my time there, with my two best friends, who are lost to me now. I hope that one day, we can all get back together again, and go on one last adventure, for old time’s sake.