• Published 18th Oct 2012
  • 1,530 Views, 72 Comments

Dear Rainbow Dash - fluttershywriter



Scootaloo records her move to Cloudsdale in a series of unsent letters to Rainbow Dash.

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September 23

Dear Rainbow Dash,

Feather has been coming to school on and off for the past few days, and when he does come, he's been acting really weird. He's barely talking to anypony—not even me—and when he does talk, you can barely hear what he's saying. And yesterday, when we had lots of time to work on our projects, I thought he'd be psyched, but he spent most of our time in the library staring out the window with his mouth hanging open. When I asked him about it, he shook his head like he had been dreaming and laughed awkwardly.

"I'm fine," he said, rubbing his crystalline blue eye and blinking yellow dust out of them. "I'm just into the book, I guess." He lifted up the book like it took all of his effort and showed me the cover.

I wrinkled my nose. "You've been on the same page for the past thirty minutes, Feather," I laughed, rolling my eyes. "Come on—what's going on? Were you up late or something? Are you sick? Why haven't you been coming to school every day? You're always at school!"

"I've been sick," Feather said haltingly. He yawned widely and pushed back his tangled blue mane with a shaky hoof. "My mom...she wanted me to stay home for a little while. You know. No big deal or anything. It—yeah. Stuff."

I rolled my eyes again, my laugh faltering. "You sure? You look really sick and annoyed. Something up?" I glanced around, making sure that nobody was listening in on us, and lowering my voice, I went back to my interrogation. "Are you trying to get out of gym class? 'Cause if that's what you're doing, I can totally help you. I didn't want to tell you, but for the last few gym classes, I've been hiding in the bathroom and reading or writing to Rain—" I stopped, cringing. He didn't need to know about that. "I mean, I can help you skip gym class. I'll even research with you, if that's what it takes."

Feather groaned and leaned back in his chair, something he never does unless he's really nervous or annoyed. "Scootaloo, it's not about gym class, all right? I don't care about gym class. And you really shouldn't be skipping, okay?"

I blushed and smiled sheepishly. "That's not the point," I said, turning to him and making the most serious face I could. "The point is that you look bad and I'm worried about you. That's it." I waited a second, checking his expression, but his lips stayed tight and his head only ducked further into his book. "Well...what do you think about what I just said there?"

"Very caring," he muttered, slamming his book shut and flapping his wings. Gracefully, he slid out of his chair and went up to the top shelf, scanning the line of books and grabbing a new, thicker book. His left wing wobbled on the way down, a sign of his exhaustion—he never messes up unless he's crazy tired or sick or something. "Scootaloo, we're supposed to be working, remember?"

I felt a surge of irritation. "Hey!" I snapped, reluctantly opening my book again. "I was working. You were the one that was staring out the window and being all weird. I swear, something's up."

He tried to give me his best glare, but, of course, since he's Feather, it sort of looked like a snail was crawling across his face. The fact that he had huge bags underneath his eyes didn't help his ever-so-attractive expression. "Scootaloo?" he asked in a pathetic growl. "I really want to work. Sorry. Okay?"

I felt like a featherbrain underneath his serious gaze. "Sorry," I muttered, forcing my head down to the page in front of me. I felt something hot and sharp pierce my stomach. I don't like feeling this way towards Feather, but when he gets all serious like he did today, sometimes I can't help it. When he gets sad and cranky, he makes me feel like I'm stupid for feeling cheerful for once. He makes me feel worthless.

So I wasn't in the best of moods on my walk home. I stormed down the streets, barely noticing that I could find my way back home to Grandma's house without getting lost. When I finally got to her house, I grunted at her in the kitchen and sprinted up the stairs to my room. When I got there, I buried my face into my pillow and squeezed my eyes so tightly shut that no tears could leak out.

After an hour or so of lying on my bed and hating myself, I heard hoofsteps coming up the stairs. I stiffened, wiping the tears out of my eyes and staring at the wall like it was the most fascinating thing ever. Seconds later, I heard a knocking at my door. "Come in," I called, clearing my throat. I prayed that I didn't sound like I'd been crying. Which I totally hadn't been.

The door swung open to reveal Grandma, who stood there looking concerned. "Scootaloo?" she asked. "Are you feeling all right? I haven't heard anything from you all afternoon."

I rubbed at my eye to make sure there wasn't any wetness and turned towards her, smiling. "No. I'm cool. I just have a lot of homework."

She raised an eyebrow and peered at me over her glasses. "You're staring at a wall," she said flatly.

Sometimes, I think she's too observant for her own good. Can't she just get senile already?

I faked a laugh, clearing my throat and rubbing the back of my neck. "...R-Right. That's...that's part of the assignment. It's, um, it's a history thing. We're studying the history of walls, so we're supposed to study our own walls and make notes on them so that we can compare how they've evolved over time." I felt my cheeks begin to burn. I was fairly proud of myself for making that all up on the spot, but judging by the expression on Grandma's face, she wasn't impressed.

"Good to know that they're teaching you quality material in schools these days," she said, sighing. Then, to my surprise, she walked through the doorway and joined me on my bed.

"Hi?" I said awkwardly, fidgeting. Grandma's the relative that we're closest to, and she's really nice and all, but she's never been really affectionate and touchy-feely.

She put her forehoof around my back and sighed, joining me in staring at the wall. "I know how hard this move has been for you," she said quietly. "I don't think it's fair that a filly as young as you has to go through something like this."

"It's no big deal," I said quickly. This was a lie, obviously, but I didn't want to maker her feel worse than she already did. "Lots of ponies have to move."

She tried to make eye contact with me. I avoided her, and she sighed. "That's not what I mean, Scootaloo," she said. I jerked my head up, startled. Her eyes looked intelligent and searching.

"I..." I trailed off, unsure of what to say. Did this have something to do with my parents?

"Strong Hoof has been acting strange lately. And your mother..." She sighed, clucking her tongue. "She's gotten odd over the years. I always thought that she was the sensible, nice pony of the couple, but she gets crueler every time I see her." She stopped abruptly, shaking her head. She glanced down at me. "I hope you don't mind me saying all this."

I didn't trust myself to speak. Swallowing, I nodded at her and kept my eyes glued to the wall.

"It's not right, Scootaloo." The mattress bounced as she stood up. I kept my eyes trained on the wall so that I wouldn't have to make eye contact with her. What could I say after a conversation like that?

She bent down and kissed me on the forehead. "I wish that I could make you feel better, Scootaloo," she whispered before walking out the room. I felt a tear pool in the corner of my eye, but I brushed it away.

Stupid. The one moment when Grandma shows any recognition of what's going on with my parents, I freak out and clam up. I could have told her about when I was little, how Daddy would hurt Momma and himself. I could have told her about that time I saw him at the weather show, completely drunk. I could have even told her about how Feather was acting strange today, and how I was worried about him. But instead, I just sat there like an idiot, waiting for her to leave. What is wrong with me?

I always screw everything up. I don't want to go to school tomorrow. I don't want to have to see Grandma again, and seeing my parents is out of the question. If I can help it, I'm not ever leaving this room again.

From Scootaloo

Comments ( 8 )

2212885 Who doesn't like freight trains of inspiration? :pinkiehappy:

Huzzah@ the stationary has been recovered!
...
Feather...what's wrong...? You were my grounding rod of semi-hope in this story and now you're making me even more concerned...
Between Scoots and Feather...is anyone in this story happy?:fluttershysad:...Besides the bullies? Oh dear.

2345878
Siderodromophobics of course! :rainbowlaugh:

Finally a new chapter... though I kinda sense that my incessant bugging about it might have been a sliiiiight factor in the story. But who cares, right? we get to see more of Scootafeels. :twilightblush:

Also... I think this story is fast approaching the Dysfunction Junction, and all the ponies are getting off the train.

Cool, I've gotten caught up on this. Hopefully by the fact that the latest chapter was apparently updated not that long ago, means this story isn't dead.

This is amazing! Hopefully you update soon (no pressure it's fine if you have no time or something like that)!:pinkiehappy:

Poor Scootaloo... I'm really hoping this has a happy ending somewhere, because if not I think I'm going to be a blubbering mess by the end of this... If there is a happy ending I still might be a blubbering mess by the end of it...

I get the feeling that there's either going to be a revelation for Scootaloo coming along in the short term, or somethings going to happen to make her withdraw even more. Either way you slice it, its going to get a lot harder before anything positive starts to show itself.

August 29th is my birthday :trollestia:

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