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// Scene 12: Int., Home, Morning. Age 20. 
// Story: My Sister Fluttershy 
// by brokenimage321 
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	“Good morning, April! Are you ready to go to the competition today?”
I’m standing in the doorway to the kitchen, yawning. Skittle stands at the counter, humming to herself and chopping carrots. “Skittle, what on earth are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m gonna take care of Mom for you today,” she responds. “It’s our special day, after all—our first day together as sisters in a long time.”
“Yeah, about that,” I say, rubbing my eyes. “I can’t go, Skittle. I have work.”
“No, you don’t,” she responds brightly. “I got someone to cover your late shift for you.”
I freeze mid-rub. “You did what?” I ask, furiously.
Her smile fades the slightest bit. “Don’t be mad, April—I-I knew you wouldn’t go if I didn’t, and I…” She gulps, and, flustered, scoops up the chopped carrots and throws them in the pot.
I sigh angrily and stomp to the bathroom. I shower quickly, throw on my uniform, and grab a few raw carrots from the fridge for breakfast.
As I open the front door, Skittle calls from the kitchen, “Meet me at the Cloudiseum at four, April—gate 7!”
I slam the door on my way out.
As soon as I get to work, I check in with my manager. I’m pumping the bellows again today. 
I’m lost in my thoughts—about Mom, and Skittle, and the Competition, when I hear the other ponies chattering excitedly about something. I look around for the disturbance and stop cold.
I live a life of darkness and routine. My neighborhood is cramped and dirty; the last bit of color left when Sunflower took her plants to college. My days are inside the white walls of the Factory, my nights inside the black walls of my bedroom. I don't stop and smell the roses because there simply aren't any in my world.
Nevertheless, in the middle of our factory floor, sprouts a rose. A white pony wearing a Factory uniform and visitor's badge stands in the sunlight. Two wings sprout from her back—not the regular feathered kind, but two things of gossamer and light. The sight literally takes my breath away. After a moment, I move closer, enchanted.
She flutters her wings experimentally, then lifts off, sending a cascade of silver sparks shooting across the walls. After a moment, she flies even higher, letting her wings catch the sun. The sunlight, filtered through her wings, fills the air with shafts of bright color. 
I gasp. She’s turned the factory into a cathedral.
She stays only a few minutes before her friends usher her out, but her wings stick with me. What is this feeling that I’ve forgotten? Not love, but ...wonder. Since...since Fluttershy fell, my life has been so cold. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel. I realize, for the first time, I have a deep hole in my heart, and I can feel its weight pressing on my soul.
It’s only later I realize she looked like a little filly who had gotten hold of the glitter. I snort and try to put her out of my mind.
A couple hours later, I punch my card and step outside. The sudden brightness catches me off-guard—I rarely make it home before sunset. I don't know if it’s the sun, or the pony’s wings, or what, but I suddenly feel happy. That hasn't happened in a long time.
I fly over to the Cloudiseum, and land in front of Gate 7, just like Skittle said. Skittle’s already there. As soon as I land, she runs over and gives me a big hug. “April! You made it!” she cries happily. I can’t help myself—I wrap my arms around her, and I feel a smile tugging at my lips, too.
She hands me my ticket and we go and find our seats. As soon as we sit down, Skittle turns to me. “Did I tell you about my last trip to Ponyville? I almost scored a ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala! It was so awesome—there I was…”
I tune her out. I check out the Cloudiseum—the big, empty arena in the middle, the ponies hawking popcorn and candy, the judges’ stand, tall and proud at the far end. It reminds me of that one time we came here to see Dad race. 
I sigh. Those were good times.
I glance around again, and notice for the first time that the stands are filled with dozens of ponies with the Merriweather Mane. I smile. There has to be one of us competing for there to be such a turnout.
Skittle continues to chatter for nearly the entire event. She only quiets down when #5—Apricot, the Merriweather—comes out. Her routine is relatively simple, but she performs it beautifully. As she finishes, Skittle and I jump to our hooves and stomp and cheer with the rest of the Merriweathers. As the crowd quiets down, Skittle picks up her saddlebags. "I'm bored. Let's get out of here."
I smile; she doesn’t like sports. She turns to leave, and I scan the crowd one last time. I’m halfway through my sweep when I pause, frowning.
Almost directly across from us, four ponies I don't recognize sit together. In the middle is a Merriweather with a long, luxurious mane and shy demeanor. I squint. Something about her bothers me, but I can't tell what it is.
Wasn’t she at the Factory earlier today?
I realize Skittle’s almost at the gate already—and she’s still talking, of course. I trot after her, still looking over my shoulder at that mysterious Merriweather.
Skittle chatters for our entire walk home. At first, I tune her out, but, after a while, I start listening with half an ear, and, finally, laughing along with her.
Right as we turn onto our street, there’s a lull in the conversation. I lick my lips nervously. “Hey, Skittle…” She turns to look at me, and I falter. “Um… thanks for getting my shift off.” I pause again. “I… I really had fun today.”
Skittle smiles. “I knew you would,” she says.
We get to our house. I start up the front walk, but Skittle stays behind. I turn and look at her questioningly. “Do you want to come in?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I’d better take off. It’s a bit of a flight to Canterlot, you know.”
I nod, and continue up the walk. “Um…April?” I stop and turn around. She’s looking at her hooves.
“April, I…I’m sorry.” She says quietly. “I… I know it wasn’t your fault, what… what happened. I was angry, and I…” After a pause, she sniffles and shakes her head.
I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. “I’m sorry, too.”
Skittle nods, then turns away. “Be safe, okay?” I say. She smiles and nods. She spreads her wings and takes off, and I watch her until she glides out of sight.
I smile as I turn and walk inside.