//------------------------------//
// Chapter 8 - Asking for forgiveness. 
// Story: Changing hope. 
// by Meow Mix 
//------------------------------//

Thanks to Alaborn For editing!


Changing Hope.



Chapter 8 - Asking for forgiveness.


You ran down the streets of Ponyville. Storm clouds had developed from west, and the late afternoon wind started to pick up. The bright sun that was out a few minutes ago was now completely engulfed by dark clouds. A few small droplets fell from the sky, landing onto your face, sending a shiver down your spine. But all that was on your mind was Scootaloo. You hoped she was okay, and that she would forgive you for not believing her.

You made your way to the middle of Ponyville. It seemed that everypony had either already disappeared or was beginning to take shelter from the incoming drops of water. The rumbling of thunder could be heard, lightning was visible through the clouds, and it was starting to get windy. Scootaloo's house seemed like a close place to navigate to, and it was also close to yours. But with all the events currently happening around you, it was taking much longer than usual. You went through another alleyway; the ground was muddy and the wind drafted through the cramped walls.

But as you were running down the last bit of the alley, you lost your balance and tumbled down to the ground, into the mud. The impact created a splash, mud splattering all over the walls and rebounding into your mane and coat. The rain had gotten much heavier than before, and was coming down in buckets. The wind wasn't helping at all either, sending a massive chill through your body once more. You tried to get back onto your hooves. Small scabs were visible on your front hooves, a red liquid oozing out, and they started to sting. You shook it off and ignored the pain. All that mattered right now was Scootaloo.
And she needed you.

* * * *

Scootaloo's POV

Rain thrashed onto the window, making a peaceful sound of bliss. The whole room was dark, but lightning occasionally illuminated the place. Scootaloo lay in bed, her face buried into her pillow, whimpers and cries escaping every now and then. She was not taking this well. She wasn't eating, drinking, or even leaving her room. Scootaloo isolated herself from the world.
Scootaloo took a moment to think about the times when she was happy, a time when she didn't get abused or bossed around, when she could be free with the pony she loved, when she thought of you. Her heart began to hurt, and her tears stained the middle part of her pillow. Since she didn't have anything to cover herself from the cold air in her room, she was shivering.

“Scoots, get out here. We need to talk,” said her dad.

Scootaloo rolled out of bed and began to head for the door, wiping the streams from her cheeks that betrayed her emotions.. She opened the door with a plain expression on her face.

“What?” she said.

“Don't use that tone on me, missy. Get out of your darnn room, and go downtown to get me some beer.”

“Bu-but dad, it’s pouring o-outside!” she said pleadingly.

“I don't care. You go down there right now!”

Scootaloo was fuming with rage. Ever since her mum went away she had been constantly treated like trash, being told to do pointless things. If she didn't listen, there would be a punishment to follow. Well, she had enough. It was too much for her. Everything was torture for her.

“NO!”

Scootaloo's dad looked at her in shock and questioning. “Wh-what did you s-say?!”

She took a deep breath and cleared her mind. “No, Dad, I am sick and tired of you bossing me around. I can't be happy at all! It’s like you want me to be depressed. You have taken so much out of my life, the things that mean the most to me. Well, I say n-”

Scootaloo was now being dragged from her room by her father. She started to scream and move around vigorously, bucking the air. “Come here, I want to show you something you little brat,” he said. As they came to the door, he opened it and threw Scootaloo onto the hard slippery steps. She yelped in pain and started to cry.

“How dare you talk to your own father like that? I don't even want you in this house. You’re sleeping outside,” he said with anger. “No wonder your mom left you here. You can't fly and you don't have your cutie mark. You're a failu- No, you're nothing to me, I have no daughter.” He slammed the door and turned off the front lights.

Scootaloo got up onto her four hooves and tried to maintain her balance. She took a few steps but tumbled back to the ground. Then she started to crawl; this was difficult, though. The rain and the fast winds were making it almost impossible to move. She started to go into shock. Her mind was telling her she was going to die, telling her that no one was there for her. No one loved her. And no one was going to save her. Scootaloo kept on trying and trying to stand, but failed every time. Scootaloo cried into the ground. She started to black out.

* * * *

“Almost there,” you said with great difficulty.

At last, you could see your destination. But it was hard to tell due to the surrounding events and because of how tired you were. The cuts and wounds were more noticeable now; they stung as the pouring rain crossed them. Your hooves started to ache and your mane had never been so dirty before.

As you approached her house, there was something that caught your attention along the side of the road. It wasn't clear enough to let you figure out what it was, but you thought it was a old rag or maybe some kind of dead animal. But then, a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the scene for a few seconds. That’s when the object became visible.

It was Scootaloo.

Your whole mind went into shock. You ran over to her. It was hard to see; luckily for you, a lantern was just in front of her house. Even in the dim light, it was obvious she looked terrible. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to have no sign of life. This was not what you wanted. You wondered how long she could have been out here.

“Scoots!”

She wasn't responding.

“Please! Say something!”

You started to panic.

“I love you Scoots. Don't leave me. I'm sorry for all the pain I have caused you. I'm sorry that I didn't believe you or even listen. I never wanted this to hap-”

Her chest rose and slowly went down.

She was breathing.

“Sco-scoots?!”

You were relieved. She was alive. And that was good enough for you. But you needed to get her out of the rain and take her somewhere safe. You knew this had something to do with her father, since you had learned he was abusive. So taking her back there wouldn't be the best idea. The hospital was way too far away. So it came down to your house. You carefully picked her up and laid her down onto your back, this only sending a large amount of pain through it. Once the pain started to fade, you began to take small steps away from the house.

With the filly you loved on your back.