Cold Front

by Pascoite

Cold Front

It always happens on nights like this.

Outside, the rain pounds so hard that I can’t tell it from the thunder. We… we live on one of the lower clouds, below the rain. We can’t afford any better.

Mom and Dad work so hard. I know they do, but Dad still finds time to take me to hoofball games or Junior Speedsters or Wonderbolts shows. He even comes over to school on his lunch breaks so he can eat with me. Mom can’t. She works days and evenings, long shifts, and she does it for me. I know she does. She says so. But…

It always happens on nights like this.

I can’t see. It’s too dark in here, and my eyes haven’t adjusted yet. Dad told me to stay in the closet, no matter what. He said not to make a sound, not to open the door for anypony, not to cry.

That wouldn’t happen, anyway. I never cry.

I rub the bruise on my cheek from last time, only three days ago. It doesn’t hurt anymore. I can take it. The weather service usually goes months between storms this hard, but only three days…

I know she’s sorry. She says so. She cries, but I don’t. I never cry. Every time, the next morning, before she goes to work, she’ll apologize, and she says it to Dad, too, but not bruises—he g-gets… a swollen eye. Once, a broken collarbone. He tells her it’s not my fault. I can hear him. It only makes her madder.

It always happens on nights like this.

The front door slams, and I jump, but I hold a hoof over my mouth. I’m supposed to stay quiet. “Hi, honey,” Dad says. “I have some soup almost ready. Why don’t you go lie down on the couch, and I’ll give you a neck rub while it simmers.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Mom says. Why won’t she ever let him do something nice for her? She always twists it. I do hear the sound of her flopping onto the couch. Maybe this time. This time will be different. “Where’s Scootaloo?”

My wings twitch, and I huddle into the pile of winter coats. “At the neighbor’s.”

“It’s dinnertime,” Mom growls. “She knows she’s supposed to be home when I have to work late. These storms don’t make themselves.” I used to stay overnight with my friends or have dinner with them. That was a long time ago. I have to watch the clock now.

“It’s okay. It can just be us tonight.”

It always happens on nights like this.

A loud bang, and I grit my teeth. Water sloshes on the floor, glass breaks, somepony cries out. “You think I slave at work so my daughter can ignore the rules?” she roars.

“No, no! It’s okay, please. Just calm down.”

I clench my jaw and cover my ears. It doesn’t help. It never helps. I have to hold still or she’ll hear me. Maybe if she hears me, she won’t be so angry with Dad. It’s… it’s not fair. It’s not fair for him. I’m here, not at the neighbor’s and I’ll just tell her, say that I wanted to surprise her, that… that I love her. It was a little prank, and I made Dad do it, and I’m sorry.

“This is my home! I pay the bills around here, and I won’t have you undermining my authority with Scootaloo!” More glass, then a cabinet slams shut, and there’s a loud thump.

“Alright, alright! Just… I’ll go get her. I’ll go get her, and we’ll have dinner. I’ll cook some more soup. Just please, don’t… don’t be mad with her. It’s not her fault.”

My h-hooves, they’re sh-shaking, and… I can see a little in here now. From the slit of light under the door, I can just make out my hooves, trembling. But I can’t feel it. I can’t feel it.

No more words, just harsh screams, like a wolverine, over and over. It doesn’t stop. It doesn’t stop. It’s never been this bad before. Dull thuds, slowing now, then… silence. Except…

Hoofsteps, sometimes limping, sometimes sliding, coming toward the closet. Dad didn’t know. I didn’t want him to know, but I got a knife from the kitchen, in case he needed my help. He’d never think I would have done that, that I could, but it’s not fair for him. Somepony needs to look out for him. I don’t cry. I never cry.

The dying light glints off its blade. Don’t come out, he said. For anything.

I tighten my grip on the handle, brace it with the other hoof. The doorknob turns. My breath catches in my throat. Slowly, the door opens. And I lunge.

---

It always happens on nights like this.

I can’t tell the rain from the thunder, and I huddle in my closet. It’s my own room, anyway. None of the other kids in the group home ever come in here. The social workers made sure I had a room to myself.

None of them know.

A knock sounds at the bedroom door, and a shiver buckles my knees. “You in there, Scoots? It’s me, Rainbow Dash. I had to work late, but I figured we might get some popcorn and watch a movie. Sound good?” My hooves won’t hold still. “Scootaloo?”

No, no, he doesn’t deserve this. Leave Dad alone!

Hoofsteps. I have to keep quiet, but I can’t!

“You here? The receptionist hadn’t signed you out.”

I grip my pocketknife. The hoofsteps get closer, and I whimper. I… I miss Dad. Dammit, I miss Mom.

“Oh, yeah, I… I guess you weird out a little on stormy nights. You okay? Just some rain. Nothin’ to worry about.”

I have to help Dad. My whole body tenses.

The doorknob turns.

She doesn’t ask, and I don’t know what made her figure I needed it, but she just hugs me, and I love her for it.

She doesn’t ask, but I tell her anyway. And I cry. Finally.

Comments

[silvershinepony]

oh my god

[insertfootinmouth]

This is horrible.

In a good way.

[BronyWriter]

So Scoots killed her dad and has PTSD because of it (as one would)?

An interesting story idea, but not really your best work. A bit too short. We never really got time to develop any real emotions or connections.

[Pascoite]

7326944 It's not clear whom she killed. Or if she killed anyone. As to length... I don't know. Different strokes and all. It's about being in the moment. I don't think it could sustain being much longer without completely changing that.

[BronyWriter]

7327218 I suppose. It did kind of make the transition between her home life and her stuff with Rainbow a bit jarring, and the end felt a touch rushed. I dunno, that's just me, though.

[Kryssi]

Horror, fear, and wistfulness.

And all in a thousand words, at that.

[Axis of Rotation]

Hm, I don't think I read this one during its writeoff premier. Pretty heavy stuff. I'm guessing the 'illusion of choice' applies to Scootaloo here?

[Pascoite]

7330500 It was interesting seeing the different interpretation of this prompt. Some took it the straight way, where someone thought they had a choice but really didn't. Others took it as someone who was choosing among different illusions. Some meant that it was the optimal illusion. This was the second one, where Scootaloo lives kind of putting her past out of her mind, forgetting it until a thunderstorm won't let her, so her self-imposed forgetfulness is the illusion she chooses.

[Rao the Red Sun]

Flashbacks to when my mom and step-dad used to fight. Vivid flashbacks. Good job.

[Axis of Rotation]

7332093
To be honest, that's the one I think people fall prone to the most. I certainly do.

It always is fun to see the different ways writers interpret the prompt, isn't it? It can be boring too, of course :p

[Snogwritts]

Greetings! I enjoyed your story, so I narrated it and gave a review! Hope you don't mind

[Pascoite]

7337631 I don't mind at all. Thank you for taking the time. It seems like you missed a few things, though. Rainbow wouldn't have noticed the parents were gone because she didn't expect them to be there. The second scene explicitly references several things to imply Scootaloo's in an orphanage by that point. It takes place years after the first scene. The first one has Scootaloo living at home with her parents, but by the second scene, there are references to a group home, social workers, Scootaloo having been assigned her own room, and there being a receptionist at the facility. That would also explain the lack of bodies. The scene break occurs at which point there are even any bodies, and the second scene picks up well after all that has been dealt with. As to the number of sentences that begin with "I," there actually aren't that many. I'm sensitive to that as well, and there is some leeway afforded a first-person story for starting sentences with the same word, but if you go looking around, I think you'll find that this one's actually below what you'll see on average, even among good writers. Out of 138 sentences, 29 begin with "I," or right about 1 in 5, and that even includes dialogue, which you usually wouldn't when looking at this.

[Snogwritts]

7338591 Yes now I understand your point and I agree with you. But, you have to keep in mind you have to make sure the reader can easily make that connection. It wouldn't to hurt to place "1 year later" into the story. Remember there are different ways to interpret what happened because scotaloo herself could of been adopted all along. Adding a bit of backstory before events start to happen can help make those connections as well as getting a better idea of what time the story is taking place in.

[PresentPerfect]

Shiiiit :O

[bobbananaville]

7338997 I disagree. Every single time a "one year later" comes up in a story, I lose my suspension of disbelief, my immersion. I love how the transition was made here - it draws a sort of parallel between the past and the present. The only time something like that works is in a diary or an in-universe work, where someone says "it's been a year" or something like that.

[Snogwritts]

7377695 Ah, I see my mistake. Thank you, I'll keep that in mind.

[Loganberry]

Ouch. A far cry from the common or garden cute Scootalove, this one. I'm just glad Rainbow is on the side of the angels; I'd have had a very hard time with the fic had she not been. I do understand why some people wonder just how pony this story is, but there's no doubt that it's stuck in my mind.

[Zerocool7785]

I JUST FARTED OFF SOMETHING NASTY!!

[Vaguely Demented]

Interesting. Though I think Scoots would be in a psych ward.

[BirdsBooksBrownies]

Honestly not what I was expecting, I knew from the description there was going to be Scootalove, but I figured it was going to be a sweet fluff filled thing where RD helps Scoots get over a very natural fear of Thunderstorms, the arguing parents part and the implied murder or self-defense (depending on how you look at it) was completely unexpected. After all is said and done, I think that this particular idea could be expanded upon a bit, or just having a longer version of the fluff-portion without the PTSD elements not saying I don't like what you have, I really enjoyed the unexpected twist, but it feels a bit incomplete like you have a good start, but it is missing something. These are merely my thoughts on the matter, you are more than free to disagree or disregard my opinions.

[MixMassBasher]

Short, suspenseful but hearthwarming at the end. Nicely done.

[Pascoite]

10069225
Too bad canon broke this just before the finish line...

[MixMassBasher]

10069404
Cannon or not. Still a good story

[Butterscotch Moonglow]

This is a really well-written story, and I especially like the portrayal of Rainbow Dash here.

I realize this might give the story away a bit, but would it be alright to request a "Warning: foal abuse" in the summary for future notice?