It's strange how you remember some things and not others. Certain moments in your life or the lives of others, calms before storms, instances of perfect emotion. It's also strange how easy it is to forget other things, but I know I have forgotten almost nothing about the day the girls left.
I remember standing at the train station that morning as the conductor pony called his final 'all aboard's. I remember the way the three fillies hugged each other and pressed their little foreheads together, as if they could somehow share the pain they were all feeling. I remember Applejack leaning against my hip and burying her face in my side so that her little sister wouldn’t see the unexpected and uncharacteristic tears budding in her eyes. It’s captured in my head like a photograph, a last, perfect, bittersweet moment.
Their bags had been packed, and the schools were expecting them in a few days time. There was no turning back.
Sweetie Belle was off to a vocalist academy in Canterlot, where she could learn more about magic alongside her quickly flourishing singing skills. She had stars in her eyes, and dreams of one day singing in the royal palace for Celestia or becoming a famous singer like Rara. Twilight had promised to put in a good word for her with the school's headmaster, and even Celestia, assuming the little filly completed all her assignments on time of course.
Applebloom had been offered a place to stay with Babs, as she continued to learn about her abilities as a natural born leader and organizer. Ponyville had its fair share of leaders and organizers, but they were too busy to teach. The mayor was running the city, and Twilight was so busy with princess stuff... Besides, she didn’t entirely fit in with the rest of her apple-centric family and wanted to see what the world had to offer someone with her unique skills. A small school in Manehattan that focused on construction, leadership skills, and training the best and brightesed had offered her a place to learn, assuming she had a place to stay. Babs' family had happily agreed to that part. Applejack had been crushed, but had accepted that the little pony had to see the outside world, as she herself once had.
She didn't say it, but I knew she hoped her sister would get her fill and return someday. I somehow doubted that.
No matter how you turned it, the two fillies had just outgrown Ponyville. They were too talented, too curious and eager, and had too much greatness sprouting in them for the one small town to contain. So they were leaving. They’d promised to return, someday, but it was a vague promise and one none of us would have blamed them for breaking.
And Scootaloo?
Through all the adventures, all the tests, all the hard work with her friends, she somehow still hadn’t gotten her cutie mark yet. Without parents to guide her and push her, she hadn’t been given the same opportunities as the other girls. Sure, all of Ponyville had done their best to help her when they could, be the village that raised the child, but there was only so much we could do. She couldn’t even get up to Cloudsdale to learn what it was like to be a Pegasus. Her stubby wings had never developed past little flutters of feather and fur. All she had was Rainbow Dash, and she wasn’t there that day at the train station. She’d always hated goodbyes, and she didn't have a sister who was leaving. Besides, being a Wonderbolt had begun to take up more and more of her time, and we were beginning to see even less of her those days.
So, when all was said and done, Scootaloo would have to stay behind. At least for the time being.
I remember the conductor yelling once more, and the shudder that went through Applejack beside me as she pressed me closer. The three girls gave their last hugs, whimpers and tears flowing freely from them.
“Ah promise to write you both!” Applebloom said. “We’re still friends, no matter the distance.”
“That’s right,” said Sweetie. She sounded so determined and confident, like there was no way that could change. “We have to keep in touch so you can tell us when you get your cutie mark!”
Scootaloo blushed and shrugged her little winged shoulders.
“Yeah,” she said, obviously trying to sound enthusiastic. “I bet it’ll happen any day now! ...right?”
“Ah know it will,” Applebloom said warmly. “And shucks, maybe it’ll be something to do with bein' a leader!”
“Or singing!”
“Right, or singin’. Then you can come stay with one of us!”
They’d smiled tearfully at each other then, just as the conductor had shouted another urgent ‘all aboard’ that ended with a 'last chance' directed at the three of them. They'd touched their foreheads together one last time in a hug, sharing that invisible bond, then broke apart.
Applejack ran and kissed her sister wordlessly, still trying to put on a brave face. Rarity was busy giving instructions on what things to see in Canterlot, who to say hello to, what things to report back about the latest and greatest fashions. I watched the families hug their youngest members, say they loved them, wipe the tears away.
Then the girls had boarded the train.
They’d waved their hooves out a window and called additional goodbyes as the engine had puffed and grumbled its way into motion. As it pulled away, Scootaloo had begun to run alongside, her stunted wings flapping as she tried to keep up with her two best friends for just a little bit longer.
“Don’t forget about me!” she’d called as she lost ground and the train began to slip away. “Don’t forget!”
The wail of the train whistle nearly drowned her out, but you could see Sweetie and Applebloom smile at her as the train picked up speed and rushed away towards their new lives.
Then, they were gone.
Rarity had left right away, things to do, people to see, and Applejack had come over to me and buried her face in my side again. I remember thinking that she’d lost her parents and was now losing a sister. It wasn't the same, but it was still a very real loss. I’d lost everyone I’d known when I’d come to Ponyville, so I felt some level of empathy for her. And I’d hugged her and comforted her there at the station. I’d whispered the ‘there there’s’ and the ‘it’s ok’s’ and stroked her golden mane as she’d quietly sobbed into my shirt. I’d done all in my power to relieve even some of that loss she was feeling, as she’d once done for me when I first arrived.
I was so busy trying to help her feel better that I didn’t pay much attention to a lone orange figure sitting out at the end of the platform, completely solitary as she looked after the retreating smoke from the train. I almost didn’t see the stooped shoulders, the spiky purple mane undulating in the strong breeze, the drooping, splayed wings.
But I did see her.
I remember seeing her, and doing nothing. Somehow, even though I only caught that scene at a glance, it stands out the most to me in my memories of that day. Like a mental scar that I’ll never heal.
I still wonder if, maybe, on that day, we could have saved her.
~*~