Kicked Over
Kicked Over
Scootaloo sat alone in what had once been her parent’s house. It wasn’t large, more of a middle class sort of home, but it had all that a family could need. Scootaloo had her own decent sized bedroom, fully equipped with bed and wardrobe and dresser and various other items of furniture. There was a kitchen with conjoined dining room, a living room, a study and so on and so forth. Her mother had been a fanatic for white and almost everything in the house, from the walls to the floors to the marble work surfaces in the kitchen, were white in some way. Perhaps the only room which had escaped this genocide of colour was her own room, which had a sky blue wall, cyan carpet and ceiling and primarily golden bedclothes, but most of the furniture was still white so she hadn’t escaped entirely.
She was sitting alone in the living room, looking down at the white carpeted floor. She sobbed once. What was her life worth, really? Her parents were dead, had been for a few years. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon had re-doubled their efforts to ruin her existence and had stepped up to physical abuse, now convincing a large number of others to assist them. Apple Bloom had turned on her, leaking secrets to the bullies that were quickly turned against her. It was a shame that ‘loyalty’ wasn’t what flowed through her blood. Miss Cheerilee hadn’t been much help, nor had anypony really. Normally she could deal with such things. When she was hit with each one with some recovery period in between, she could cope. But combine dead parents, plus relentless orphan jokes, plus constant beating, plus betrayal of one of her best friends, plus the ignorance of her teachers eventually equalled a scenario that she quite frankly could not ‘deal with’. Not in a conventional sense at least.
That was when she’d snapped. She couldn’t take it anymore. She’d been alone, defenceless whilst Diamond Tiara told her jokes and beat her down (metaphorically). Scootaloo was silently seething, trying to ignore her, trying to go to her happy place, trying to ignore the shame as everypony else dropped what they were doing to watch the show. She stood with her head bowed, staring down at the floor. Diamond Tiara kept going on, her jokes eliciting howls of laughter from the crowd at Scootaloo’s expense. She told a particularly stinging joke that made Scootaloo tense up, wince in fury as she fought to control herself. This would come to pass, she just had to grit her teeth and bear it.
Diamond Tiara walked over to her, “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Scootaloo felt the filly grab at her mane and pull it backwards, forcing Scootaloo’s eyes to rise up to meet hers. Scootaloo winced, but didn’t scream. She was determined to show Diamond that she wasn’t a screecher. Diamond spat in her face; Scootaloo bit her lip, the fury rising in her. Diamond dealt her a cold blow before dealing a quite literal blow, knocking her head hard and forcing her to the floor with a cruel laugh. Whilst her vision swam and her head throbbed, Scootaloo lost her self-control. She’d had enough of being a pushover, being Diamond’s play thing to kick around and abuse however she pleased.
She shakily raised herself back to full height. Diamond was distracted boasting to the crowd. A golden opportunity. Scootaloo slowly but surely made her way towards Diamond. Scootaloo tapped Diamond on the shoulder gently. She turned, “What could you possibly want?” Without any further warning, Scootaloo clapped both her hooves over Diamonds ears before bringing her right hoof into contact with her jaw. In a fit of rage she threw herself at the stunned filly, again hurling a hoof at her head. She had her hooves up in defence, but Scootaloo hit past that, striking Diamond several times. She was kicked backwards and Diamond advanced, death plain in her eyes. Fearing for her life, Scootaloo leapt and bit down hard onto Diamond’s shoulder, drawing blood and eliciting a scream of agony. She refused to let go as Diamond slammed her hooves into the side of Scootaloo’s head, jarring her vision and making her head turn fuzzy with each hit. Eventually she let go and grabbed at Diamond’s mane, pulling hard and watching with joy as tears began to brim at the corners of the filly’s eyes.
She would happily have stayed there, pulling gradually harder until there was no mane left to pull on, leaving her nemesis in a puddle of her own self-pity, but Miss Cheerilee pulled her away before she was finished and scolded her heavily, issuing a month’s suspension followed by immediate internal suspension for the remainder of the term. Cheerilee had offered her counselling, but it wasn’t counselling she needed; it was revenge. She needed to put her mind at peace but she was kept well away from Diamond, who by now was re-embarking on her crusade against her. Her show of self-defence had achieved little, other than to turn the remainder of the school against her.
It was as though the whole school now had a vendetta against her. Even those who previously provided her with some form of safe haven were now scared of her. They shied away from her if she approached them and some even joined Diamond’s gathering army. Scootaloo retreated inside herself, not talking to anypony, not playing any games, not paying attention in lessons. She was just happy to be alone. Well, no that was a lie, she wasn’t happy to be alone, she just preferred it to a cuff around the head a stick between the legs.
Her grades began to slip. She had never been academically brilliant, not the sort of student that could pass anything with the minimum of effort, but she wasn’t bad. Her grades were good, or at least they used to be. As and Bs slipped to Cs and Ds and Fs began to spring up across various subjects. Even the letters were turning against her. Miss Cheerilee once asked her if she wanted private tutoring, but to Scootaloo that just sounded like, “You look stupid. Let me give Diamond more ammunition so she can keep shooting you down.” She refused, preferring to let her grades suffer if it meant sparing herself the torture of Diamond’s brand new charade of idiot jokes.
Home was the only place where she came even close to happy. The annoyingly white interior reminded her of a solitary confinement cell. Safe. Nopony in, nopony out. Except her. Maybe it wasn’t like a solitary cell in that respect, but it did make her feel safe. She spent her time ignoring any homework given to her. She didn’t want to think about school when she came home every afternoon. Occasionally she would simply read one of the books she’d read thrice before, or perhaps she’d play a game with herself or something like that. Just anything to take her mind off of her problems.
She tried visiting Rainbow Dash once in the hope that she could find refuge under the wing of her idol. Was Rainbow Dash free that afternoon? Did she want to play a game or go flying or something? Nah, squirt, sorry. Your idol is busy ignoring you and doing other things and is generally being too awesome to spend time with you. Go read that one book for the fifth time or play that game again or hell, I don’t know, dare I suggest you go out somewhere and spend some time amongst the other ponies of society?
She tried clinging to other ponies, trying to find shelter from the verbal rain. Sorry, sugar cube, but I don’t think you should be hanging around Apple Bloom no more; it ‘ain’t nothing personal. Oh, um… I’d love to, but… oh… I’ve just got so many animals to look after already and I don’t think I could afford it; sorry. Please, not now, I have very important work to do and if I don’t get my report to Celestia done in time then bad things will happen! Awww, sorry Scoots, but I don’t get to pick and choose, the Cake’s rent out the rooms, I just live and work here. How does a free cupcake sound instead? And so on and so forth in a similar manner until almost every pony in Ponyville had rejected her in some way. She just needed to grit her teeth and realise what was staring her in the face; no pony wanted to take her on, they didn’t want the extra responsibility.
So she continued to struggle on, taking the knocks and shielding herself from the sticks and stones that broke her bones. But the names… Oh, dear Celestia, the names. Names will never hurt me? Yea, that was rich. “Psycho!”
“Look out, everypony! The Freak’s shown up!”
“How’s it feel to be a loner?”
“Aww, poor chicken can’t fly!” That last one she hated most of all. She couldn’t stand the nickname. Every time she heard it she wanted to slam her hoof into the first solid object that got in her way; she wanted to block her ears and pretend it wasn’t happening. But that would just prove that it was getting to her and just give them more fuel for their relentless charge over her spirits.
She cried herself to sleep every night. Or she would if she weren’t melting with fury and hate. If there was one emotion more prominent than fear and sorrow, it was anger. The things she wanted to do to Diamond defied sanity. If she could only have her way she would make her regret picking on her. Unfortunately the world didn’t work that way. She would never get the satisfaction of bringing to a close this constant war between her and the rest of the world. Or would she?
She began to feel as though there was nothing left for her to live for. She ran out of coping strategies. All the things she’d tried to keep herself calm, to stop herself boiling over. It all came down to one thing, the only cure for her frustration and anger; sadism. Or, when sadism wasn’t a possibility (and it never was), masochism. She began to hurt herself, cutting herself with the knives in the kitchen, spilling her own blood for the sake of feeling that release of frustration. She’d even gone as far as to break her own bones just so that she could feel that sense of relief, that sense that only came from the causing of pain. She imagined that whatever part of her body she was hurting was Diamond, up to the point where she had considered cutting her own fore leg off.
But now it had come to this. Pointless self-harming was getting her nowhere. She just needed to do everypony a favour, and simply remove herself from the planet. She had been considering it for a while, but now it felt like the right time. She needed to do this, to spare herself from her miserable existence. She had thought long and hard about how she should do it. In the end, she’d just decided to make sure that there was a good supply of decent rope in the attic. She liked the irony in it. Whilst a normal pegasus could simply flap their wings and remedy the situation, well… she wasn’t quite so adept in that area yet.
Jump forward a few minutes; she picked up the house’s telephone, sobbing softly, a crudely tied noose hanging to one side. She was sitting on one of the chairs from the kitchen, brought into the living room for her to stand on. She slowly and shakily dialled a number, listening as the telephone on the other end rang once. Twice. Thrice. Was she even going to pick up? Had she abandoned her too? She breathed a small sigh of relief when there was a soft click and she heard a familiar voice, “Hello?”
“Sweetie Belle?”
“Scootaloo? What do you want?”
“I…” she sobbed once. “I’m sorry, Sweetie Belle.”
“Sorry for what? You haven’t done anything.” It was a while before she replied.
“It’s not what I’ve done. It’s what I’m about to do. You’ve remained loyal to me through everything, you’ve tried your best to help me. I’m afraid it’s just not worth the effort anymore.”
“Scootaloo you’re scaring me. What exactly are you planning to do?”
“Good bye, Sweetie Belle. And once again, I’m sorry.”
“Scootaloo?”
“I’m going now. Don’t try to save me.”
“Scootaloo! Don’t you dare hang up!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Scootaloo!”
Click.
Scootaloo sobbed to herself softly. After about five seconds the telephone rang. It was likely Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo didn’t pick it up. She didn’t want to talk anymore. She didn’t want to hurt Sweetie more than she already had. She waited for the telephone to stop its incessant ringing before finally giving a brief sigh and clambering onto the chair. She stood upright on the top, the noose now around her neck stopping her from falling. She broke out crying again, tears openly falling from her eyes. She was truly sorry for doing this, but only for Sweetie Belle. She felt that by doing this she would be saving more ponies than she was hurting.
She spent a few moments mentally preparing herself. After she’d steadied her breathing and put her mind at rest as to why this was necessary, she took one more deep breath and prepared to kick the chair. Just before she did so, the front door was opened with a massive slam and she heard Sweetie Belle’s voice call for her, “Scootaloo!” She saw the white unicorn poke her head round the corner into the living room. Her pupils contracted as she looked at Scootaloo, standing ready to kick aside the only thing keeping her alive at this point. “Scootaloo, think about this.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Scootaloo! Don’t!”
Kick. Scream. Scootaloo choked, clawing at the rope around her neck as it cut off her oxygen and slowly drained the life from her body. Sweetie Belle had vanished. Scootaloo could feel herself getting weak. After a few moments, dangling from the ceiling, her vision faded to black.
***
She awoke with a gasp. She looked around her frantically, trying to discern where she was. She knew where she wasn’t; her parents house. Nor, she didn’t think, was she dead. Was she so useless that she couldn’t even kill herself properly? Was she that bad at everything? The next thing she knew was a loud squeal before she felt hooves grab hold of her tightly and press her against a warm, comfortable substance.
She was lying on a bed in the Carousel Boutique. The room was well decorated and the bed seemed quite large. As her thoughts re-collected, she recognised the warm, comfortable substance as Sweetie Belle’s chest. Sweetie Belle eventually let her go, tears in her eyes and evidence of past hysterics still plain. Scootaloo looked bewildered and somewhat confused, “How come I’m not dead?”
“I… Sorry, I’m a little shocked,” the white unicorn sobbed once. “I cut you down as quickly as I could. I thought I was too late. I brought you back here. I didn’t know what else I should do.”
“Why didn’t you let me die?” Scootaloo asked, rather annoyed.
“How could you even consider something like that?” Sweetie Belle shouted back, anger dripping from her voice. “How could you possibly think that killing yourself would accomplish anything?”
“It was supposed to kill me.”
“That doesn’t help! I was so scared, Scootaloo! When you called me and said those things I knew something was wrong. When I saw you, standing there with that rope around your neck, I didn’t know what to think. When you kicked over that chair… I did the first thing that came to mind and cut you down. I thought I was too late. I thought you’d gone. I cried for an hour, Scootaloo, I cried solid for a full hour before I carried you back here and cried some more because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you like that. I can’t imagine a world without you, Scootaloo. I just can’t believe that you failed to see that.”
Scootaloo sat in silence. She felt awful. She was so full of self-loathing that she wanted to hide away and never be seen again. Sweetie Belle was right. She’d always been there to support her. She’d been there when the pain got too much to bear alone. How could she have been so blind as to have seen through her like that; how had she been so selfish? All along there had been one pony who’d truly cared for her. It wasn’t a case of how many ponies she was saving or hurting, it was how much she was hurting them. It was likely that she’d have ended up hurting Sweetie Belle so much that it wouldn’t have helped anything. Sweetie Belle had been a true friend. A true, honest to goodness loyal and caring friend; and she’d seen straight through that.
“I… I am so sorry, Sweetie Belle. So, so very sorry. I’m so selfish! I’m useless! I can’t do anything right! I looked through you, almost completely ignored you and your friendship! I don’t know how you could forgive me for that. I don’t expect you to forgive me. Just abandon me like all the others. I don’t deserve your friendship; go give it to somepony who’ll appreciate it.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Sweetie Belle clutched Scootaloo’s hoof in hers, squeezing it gently as she smiled at her, her eyes still filmed in tears. “I’m always going to be here for you, don’t ever question that. If you need anything, and I mean anything, then just come and talk to me. No matter what you do, I’ll always be here to help you.” Sweetie Belle sobbed once, wrapping Scootaloo in another tight hug.
Scootaloo sighed with relief. She hadn’t lost her. She hadn’t lost her only real friend. She returned the hug, enjoying the contact and putting her mind at rest, safe in the knowledge that there was somepony there that would always care for her. Somepony that she could trust. Somepony that…
Kiss.
Scootaloo stared blankly at Sweetie Belle, who simply stared back. Scootaloo had a heavy blush on now. Sweetie Belle gently stroked Scootaloo’s mane, “I love you. Never forget that. Whenever anypony makes you feel down, or makes you think you’re small, then just come to me and I’ll show you how important you really are. I’ll be here, and if you feel you need to talk then come and see me. I don’t care what it is, if it’s just a small problem or something more, if it’s in the middle of the night or during an important chore, I don’t care, just knock on the door and I’ll be there in a heartbeat to help you as best as I can. Even if you just want to talk, then I’m all ears.”
“Thank you, Sweetie Belle. And I’m sorry. This time for what I have done. I should have realised how much you cared for me. I swear, I won’t put you through that again, no matter how bleak things seem.”
“Don’t let anypony beat you down. Keep your head high and sleep well knowing that I’m here for you.” Sweetie Belle gently kissed Scootaloo on the forehead, smiling.
Scootaloo shuffled awkwardly. Sweetie Belle smiled warmly, “What’s the matter?”
“Well… I don’t really want to go back to my house. I’d much rather stay here with you. I don’t want to be alone anymore. It hurts more than the name calling and the abuse and the jokes. Being alone is the worst, but if I can stay with you then I’ll always know that somepony’s there for me. Is that okay with you?”
“Of course it is. You can sleep in my bed. I don’t mind sleeping in the guest bedroom until you recover.”
“Thank you, Sweetie Belle. Just for being there. For showing me things aren’t that bad.”
“You’re welcome, Scootaloo.”
“I’ll always be here.”
End.
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First!
This was so okay it was average.
I mean, technicals are good.
You've just gotta get de flow and de reddem down now zebruh bruddah.
But seriously, drag the brakes a bit. It was over before I was even beginning to get into it!
4919195 Thanks for the feedback! This was my first fic, so I appreciate it may not be perfect. I do have a second chapter on the go, based more around the theme of her recovery. It just depends on whether you want to see that. If you want I could make this several chapters longer. I'm flexible.
But seriously, thanks for the comment. It's always appreciated and I'm glad you thought it was okay!
I liked this. It was short, bitter-sweet, and to the point. I just can't imagine Apple Bloom, of all ponies, betraying her like that. I would have used an old friend that Scootaloo had gotten into a fight with. Maybe her and Silver Spoon used to be friends as foals, but got into a big fight and broke ties?
Still, very nice. Although, I agree with DJ Phycholoo, you could have paced it better.
4919417 Daaw, thanks. That means a lot.
Yea, I expect that lots of people will have a problem with my pacing. I often write late at night when I don't really think and just write what comes to me. Thanks for the positive feedback, it's a real confidence booster!
But yea, as I said to DJ Psycholoo, I can add a sequel if that's what you guys are interested in. If so, please drop a comment because I've got one in the works, it just needs finalising. I didn't want to post it initially because I wasn't sure how well this one would do, but it seems to be doing well and people keep complaining that it's short (so maybe a second chapter?
)
Thanks for the comment and keep doing whatever it is you guys do! I never expected to get this much attention so quickly and it's really phenomenal!
...Yeah, I'll just stop questioning everything from now on.
4919455 Mission Accomplished
Back to the looney bin!
4919162 why waste your time saying first it seems really stupid
Well, personally I didn't like the whole plot of the story. (The near death experience, Scootaloo is going to kill herself because the world sucks bit, then Sweetie Belle saving the day and-what-not making up for it; I've seen a lot of these but what do you expect.) Generally I enjoyed your writing, the little bits of detail you added with Scootaloo's home. Though it's not much it's always appreciated. Still, it's kickass of you to post your story for all to see, it can be overwhelming for some, I know It was for me. Regardless keep up the good work.
Some good stuff here. Two flaws,one AB turns on Scoots and we are not given a reason or anything? And two;ponies don't have phones, that kinda broke it a bit for me. But a sweet/sad story, overall good job.
U should be proud of your first fix.
It's great for your first fic! I hope that it will eventually be completed. The feels, I can't withstand their power!
HOLY SHITE THAT GOT DARK FAST. YOU NEED TO BECOME A PROFESSIONAL WRITER. THIS IS A BETTER LOVE STORY THAN TWILIGHT.
7222365 Umm, that's not exactly a challenge... I mean you're right, I'm just saying.
7241079 Yeah I'm pretty sure ANY story is a better love story than Twilight.
WHAT?!
Not you twilight!
But you said–
NOT YOU!!!
Oh....okay!