My Sister Fluttershy

by brokenimage321

Scene 4: Int., Home, Night. Age 13.

“So, April: how old are you again?”

Mom looks at me over the top of her glasses. She’s smiling.

I roll my eyes and smile back. “Thirteen, Mom.”

“Thir-teen,” she says slowly, filling in the blank.

We’re sitting at our old kitchen table, working on my Weather Patrol application. The sky outside is dark, and the house is all quiet except for the two of us at the table. I smile as I watch Mom fill in the blank for our address. I’m really glad she’s helping me this time around.

You can apply to get into the Weather Patrol when you turn twelve. They don’t have you do a whole lot at that age—mostly just studying weather maps and such—but it’s a start. Right after my birthday party last year, I sat down and filled out the application all by myself. I still remember feeling just like Thunder Crash as I handed it to the mailpony.

A few weeks later, I came home from school to find an envelope on the kitchen table. It had the Cloudsdale Weather Patrol logo on the front. When I saw my name on it, I screamed. With Mom, Skittle, and Fluttershy gathered around, I opened it up and started reading. As soon as I read the words “Dear Weather Patrol Applicant,” my heart sank. Mommy gave me a hug and said it was alright—I just needed to try again.

You can only apply three times, so, this year, I’m having Mom help me out. I think her handwriting might make a difference.

As Mom writes, I gaze around the room. I smile as I see Fluttershy’s saddlebags on the coat hook. She’s in first grade this year, and, although she hates doing the homework (I think it freaks her out that the teacher has to judge her work) I think she enjoys it. As goofy as it sounds, seeing that sly little smile when she doesn't think anyone's looking makes me glow inside.

I take another look at Mom. She has all my personal information down, and is reading the instructions for the next section. I swallow. Maybe now’s the time.

For the past few months, I’ve been trying to work up the courage to talk to Mom about Grandpa Snowdrift. The only time she’s ever mentioned him was that one time with Fluttershy, and I’ve been curious about him ever since.

I’m scared to bring it up, though. She always seems so nervous, and I’m afraid to make her even more upset. But tonight, we’re all alone, and Mom seems to be in a good mood. I don’t think I’ll get an opportunity like this again.

I shift uneasily in my chair. “Mom?”

"Yes, dear?" she says, looking at me over the top of her glasses.

I swallow again. "Mom… who was Grandpa Snowdrift?"

Mom's eyes bulge, and she drops the pen with a clatter. "Who was... who?" she asks, breathless.

"G-g-grandpa Snowdrift," I say, looking away.

Slowly, she sinks down in her chair. She turns to stare straight ahead, face slack and eyes wide. After a moment, she starts to speak in a small, frightened voice.

"Grandpa Snowdrift was... my daddy. He was... the best pony I ever knew. He was a surveyor, and Princess Celestia asked him to... to find a new spot for a pegasus city... Whenever he left, he'd bring me back something from where he'd gone... a rock, or a leaf, or a bunny...” I see the hint of a smile twitch the corner of her mouth—just once, and it’s gone.

I lean over and look at her flank. "Isn’t that what your cutie mark is? A bunny?"

She continues like she hasn't heard me. "They'd looked everywhere, but nowhere was right for the pegasi.” She pauses, quivering. “Then they tried the Everfree Forest...”

She sags a little in her chair. "They knew it was dangerous, and Mommy asked him not to go, but Daddy said he had to...” She takes a deep breath. “I was so selfish... I asked Daddy to bring me back another bunny... Muffin was lonely... He ruffled my mane and said he would if he saw one. Then he left..."

She’s silent for a long moment. Finally, I see a tear run down her cheek.

"They said afterwards he was so brave... he fought the manticore all by himself so Bluebird could get away...”

She chokes back a sob. “But Daddy didn't come home. The monster on the ground took Daddy away, and he never came home again..."

Her eyes grow a little wider, and she finally falls silent. After a moment, I turn to follow her gaze. She’s staring out the window at the moon, hanging over the forest like a ghost. I open my mouth to say something, but I don't know what to say. I sit there for several minutes, watching Mom stare silently at the moon. Finally, I creep quietly off to bed, leaving my application forgotten on the table.

I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling until the sun peeks over the horizon.