It was dark and gloomy.
Rustles came from every direction; Applebloom, herself, would admit that she wasn't very confident about this.
She had told her sister a good, fat lie to make her trip to the tree house private, between her and the anonymous pony who had sent her the letter. She was sure that it was safe and had a good purpose--it had to be. If Applejack found out about the lie she was sure her sister was never trust her ever again...being a disgrace as her sister being the element of honesty, especially since Applebloom didn't remember the good reason she had told herself when she had read the letter why she shouldn't tell her sister what it said.
All she remembered was that it was a good reason...
Her hoofsteps made a little 'pitter-patter' sound as she jogged.
She was sure midnight wasn't very far away--it was 11:57, so it was only a few minutes until the anonymous pony revealed his or her identity.
Applebloom looked down at her hooves, than at the dirt path she was on that seemed to keep extending forever and ever. She knew that it was the path to the treehouse...she was sure about it. Especially the scent of the paint she used on the treehouse that she followed.
The treehouse came with many memories, no doubt about it. It was where the "Cutie Mark Crusaders", a club including Applebloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo (two old but close friends of hers), had earned their cutie marks, even if they had been the last ones in their class to earn them. Ironically, they had all earned their cutie marks on the same day and same hour of the day.
That day, the best day of their lives, was also the worst--the day when they had to leave each other, and where Scootaloo, the one Applebloom believed was a betrayer, had left the title of being their friend.
Applebloom, when she was younger, didn't see her obvious talent of art even though it was right in front of her eyes, she had easily remembered. Applebloom remembered a song they did--where Sweetie Belle should have sang, Scootaloo should have danced, and Applebloom should have done all the art to it. It was embarrassing--she couldn't dance at all...
She had fixed up the treehouse, though, she had remembered, with her art skills. She painted it, had the boards all fixed up, cleaned it...
It needed a lot of fixing.
Caw, Caw! Crows? Applebloom didn't remember crows in Ponyville, and especially not on the pathway to the treehouse. But it was a long time ago since she had visited--wasn't it?
Applebloom smiled as she remembered another memory. It was one about the crusading. Boy, did she love crusading. It was just so much...fun!
It was Cutie Mark Crusaders Bird Watching. They stood behind some bushes for hours with different kinds of tools they had borrowed...
It really wasn't much fun, being silent. But it was fun when Scootaloo got flies all over her mane when she didn't notice...
Applebloom missed those times; she really, truly did. Her eyes began to fill with tears...
Soon she stepped into a small piece of land. It was not very perfect, or attractive. It was covered with leaves that crunched when she stepped onto them, and branches of old trees had fallen onto the ground. It wasn't a very convenient floor.
Suddenly...
In front of her was just a pile of old memories. The treehouse...the one Applebloom believed could last until the end of time...was old and dirty and just like it was before she had fixed it up. It was unsuitable for the three old friends to walk into, though...but she bet that her friends weren't even here to try to see if it was correct...
"Applebloom?"
Applebloom jumped. Who had said her name? It was somepony, though, she knew, not a cow or a donkey...
"Applebloom? Is that you?"
Somepony came out of the shadows. She could tell that it was midnight.
"Sweetie Belle?"
Applebloom stood shocked as she saw the old friend, looking as beautiful as always, looking just as curious and shocked as her.
Applebloom's world felt dizzy. Her mind raced, her heart quick.
And she did the bravest thing she could do in front of a friend...cry.