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// Chapter Five 
// Story: Scootaloo's Summer 
// by Kasper COEI 
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	A lone, shadowed filly walked along silently down a dirt road. On either side of her, tall trees stood securely and silently. The leaves that covered the branches of the trees gave only slight rustles as they swayed at the will of the breeze. The moon would be shining in the sky, being partly covered only every-so-often by a stray cloud, were it not that this night held a new moon. The sky was scattered with stars like sprinkles on a cupcake; some spots were clusters, while others were sparse. The world under these twinkling beauties was faintly lit, as without the moon’s aid, they could provide only minimal light.
Slowly, as the filly continued her way down the dirt road, it opened up to become a sort of clearing. Dead center this was a large tree, a wooden structure adorning its truck and branches. It was the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ clubhouse, originally built by Apple Jack, and restored by the Cutie Mark Crusaders themselves: Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo. From the door to the clubhouse, a two-part staircase descended to the grassy ground. Half-way of the stairs, it turned at a ninety-degree angle to the side.
Scootaloo wearily dragged herself up the stairs and into the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ clubhouse, and looked around inside for the candle she kept near the door. Despite it being pitch black and the dead of night, the gamboge-colored filly could see fairly well. She had been walking for a long while to the clubhouse, and her faded-purple eyes had adjusted fairly well.
The white candle was on the floor, sitting next to a box of matches. With some effort, Scootaloo walked to the items and sat down, picking up the matches and pulling one out. She lit the match it against the rough part of the box, and with it, lit the candle.  The clubhouse was quickly illuminated, the flickering of the candle creating inconsistence in the light. The posters hung on the walls could be seen, but not recognized, similarly to the other features of the clubhouse. Grabbing the candle holder with her mouth, she stood up and turned towards the chest in the corner.
Scootaloo walked to and opened the wooden chest, reaching deep inside with her hooves. She pulled out a blanket and pillow from the bottom, setting them at her side and closing the chest. From the flickering light of the candle, the blanket could be made out to be rainbow-colored. The pillow was a plain white. It had no cover over it.
Normally, Scootaloo would make an attempt to make her small set seem more comforting. Tonight, however, she didn’t bother. Her exhaustion made her want one thing, and that was sleep. She set the candle down beside the blanket and pillow, and crawled under the blanket, breathing a sigh of relief.
She shuffled and fidgeted under the blanket, using her hooves to spread the blanket around her as best as she could with the little energy she had left. Eventually, deciding that it was good enough, she turned her head and blew out the candle. 
As darkness again took over the dimly lit room, Scootaloo let her body relax. She no longer held her wings against her body. She let them extend naturally out, relaxed. Her legs lay limply on the floor. Her head rested gratefully on the pillow. She let her mind clear of all thoughts.
Quietly and slowly, time went on. Scootaloo lay awake, hoping to fall asleep soon and rest. She couldn’t, however, find herself able to. Many things were beginning to penetrate the empty mind she’d had.
The eerie silence made her remember her childhood; the innocent day that started with silence, just as quiet as this night. Her mother and father were nowhere to be found, she remembered. When the thoughts of her sister began to emerge, she squinted her closed eyes. She shook her head, her mane dragging on the pillow. She unconsciously let out a soft groan, the memories bringing some form of pain to Scootaloo.
Just as a tear began forming in her eye, she began regaining control of her mind. As her head cleared, she let it fall to the side in relief. The pool of saline that had formed in her eye slid down her cheek, and fell onto the pillow. She attempted a soft, subtle smile.
Time went on again, but instead of being relieved and relaxed, her mind was now unsettled. She opened her eyes, and stared where her head faced; to the wall on her left. She stared at the blackened wall for only a moment before deciding that she wasn’t falling asleep anytime soon.
With effort, working against her aching muscles, she used her arms to sit up. She threw the blanket off of her and stood up, walking to the door of the clubhouse. She opened the door, and stepped outside, staring up at the moon. She let her eyes trace the pattern of the waxing crescent. She sat down on the outside porch. Her mind was now buzzing with various thoughts; most of them painful memories.
She decided to think about the one memory that wasn’t painful, to tire out her mind. Well, really, it wasn’t a memory, Scootaloo decided. She could still feel the pain and exhaustion from it, so it was still here.
She began reliving the day: The morning, when she first got to school. The time she’d spent in school, unable to wait for summer. The excitement she’d had when the bell rang, and afterwards the disappointment when Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, told her they’d be gone. She skipped over the event at the cemetery… And then she remembered the fan club’s meeting and Rainbow Dash afterwards. Her confession, Rainbow Dash’s reaction, and the training she’d done. She fixed the last part to add “Brutal” before training.
As she thought of the day as a whole, she realized just how big if a day it truly had been. It made her feel even more tired than she was… She was thankful. Hopefully this would make her fall asleep. She took her gaze away from the moon, and walked back inside the clubhouse, shutting the door behind her.