Chapter 1

“Mama, Mama! Help, please!” Scootaloo cried, her voice ululating in tone. Maliey woke up with a start and rubbed her eyes wearily, looking at the clock.

Three Am. Great. She got out of bed and trudged to the box Scootaloo slept in, nestled in the corner of the bedroom. She looked inside at the small filly, sitting wide awake reaching her hooves up to Maliey.

“What do you want Scootaloo? It's three AM.” she barked. The little filly cowered back in the box and began to well up. Maliey picked her out of the box, impatient to get an answer. “What's wrong, kid?”

Scootaloo looked at her and rubbed her nose, wiping away the snot. She rubbed it onto her orange belly and then cleared her throat.

“I had a bad dream Mama, and I made another accident in my diaper. Can you change me?” she said, wriggling about as her diaper hung from her hind quarters.

Maliey sighed and put her back down. “No Scoots. You know the rule. You only get one diaper per week. It's all I can afford. If you make a mess, you have to cope with it. Besides, it's changing day tomorrow, so wait until then.” She began to cry and looked up to her adopted mother.

“Can I sleep with you in the big bed? Pwease? It's cold and scary down here.”

“No Scootaloo, you know the rule. Until you stop having accidents, you sleep on your own in the box,” she said sharply, before heading back to bed. Scootaloo began to cry louder.

“Can I have a hug?” she murmured, almost inaudibly. Maliey stopped and turned around, heading back to the box. She bent down and lifted the filly out.

“Fine, one hug.” She put her arms around Scootaloo's and began to squeeze with all her might. Scootaloo soon started wheezing for air, waggling her hooves.

“Mama, too tight!” she managed to whisper, barely audible. Despite how tight it was, she enjoyed the cuddles. It was the closet thing to love she ever got, and she savoured them each time.

Maliey continued to tighten her grip however, until Scootaloo's body went limp, her head rolling forwards. She then held her back above her bed and let go, watching as she fell into the box like a rag doll, landing with a loud thump. She trudged back to her bed and got in, attempting to fall asleep.

Stupid kid. Good for bloody nothing. As soon as I stop getting benefits from the orphanage, you're out.

Maliey got up the next day and went to make breakfast before heading to work in town. She fed herself well, when Scootaloo trotted in, bleary eyed.

“Mama? Change me please?” she asked, rubbing her eyes with her hoof. Maliey looked her over and shook her head.

“Nope. That things only half full. It'd be a waste to change it now. You can wear it for another few days. Now do the washing up.” She got up and prepared her saddle bags, when Scootaloo frowned. “Oh right. Here's your breakfast.” She grabbed the leftovers from her plate, and threw it in Scootaloo's face. “Now clean up the mess.”

She trotted over to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her, leaving Scootaloo stood alone in the living room, weeping to herself. The filly clambered onto the worktop and carried the plate to the sink, washing it under the luck warm tap. She rinsed it off and tried to pick it up, when it slipped from between her teeth. It fell to the floor with a loud smash, sending pieces everywhere. She quickly jumped onto the floor, when her mother came back in.

“Oh you useless filly!” she screamed, running towards her. Scootaloo began to cower, knowing what was coming.

Maliey stopped and kicked Scootaloo right in the nose, drawing blood instantly. She started weeping as it ran down her front, soaking her orange coat. Scootaloo looked up to her mommy, only to see an angry gaze.

“I'm sorry Ma-”

She hit her again, sending the tiny filly flying across the floor. Scootaloo lay on the kitchen lino, crying, blood pooling around her nose. Her mother trotted over and picked her up.

“You break a plate again, and you'll be really sorry. Now clean up that mess, including your blood.”

Scootaloo nodded and quickly trotted over to the broken plate, picking each piece up with her mouth. The edges were overly sharp and cut into her mouth, drawing blood instantly. The taste made her retch, but she fought against the urge, knowing that if she was sick, she would only be punished more. Her adoptive mother stood watching, anger blazing across her face.

Once Scootaloo finished picking up the plate, she grabbed a towel and hurried over to the blood, when Maliey stuck her hoof out and tripped the tiny filly, causing her to land in the pool of blood.

“You're not cleaning up your blood with my towels. Give that here!” she said, wrenching the towel from Scootaloo's mouth using her magic. The filly looked up and began to cry.

“How do I clean it?” she asked.

“Use your tongue. It's your blood, and you're the only thing I'd waste cleaning it up with.” Maliey said coldly, putting the towel away in the kitchen.

Scootaloo began to cry, but bent down and began to lap it up, knowing that if she didn't, there would only be a bigger puddle to clean up. She kept on retching, fighting back the taste and the viscosity of the blood, until it was all gone.

“good. Now come here.” Maliey ordered. Scootaloo nodded and quickly ran to her mother, sitting down. “On your back kid.” her mother continued to bark.

Scootaloo obeyed and rolled over, not moving. She felt great relief when her mother began to remove her diaper, causing the filly to smile, despite recent events. She stood up once it was off and reached out to hug her.

“Don't touch me, you're filthy. It's raining, go in the garden and roll in a puddle to get clean. Then come back inside so I can put this diaper back on.”

Scootaloo looked at the diaper on the floor and frowned, seeing how full it was. The smell was disgusting, making her retch. Maliey lifted a hoof up to strike her again, so Scootaloo quickly ran out the door and began to roll in the freezing cold puddles. She hated her mother.

Once Scootaloo felt she was clean enough she trotted back inside, only to be lifted into the air and dropped back onto her dirty diaper almost instantly. She cringed as she felt the familiar warmth of her waste touching her flank, squidging around her tail. The clasps tightened and she frowned as she stood up again, feeling the dampness on her legs, feeling the weight of it on her legs.

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PaleRider

PaleRider #1 · Jan 20th, 2013 · 1 · ·

No.

Congratualtions if your goal was infuriate your readers.

wYvern

wYvern #2 · Jan 20th, 2013 · 2 · ·

Wow, this was... infuriating, as PaleRider already pointed out. I think you tried to go for a sad angle, seeing as you tagged it as such, but the pity one might feel for Scootaloo is wiped away by mind-comsuming rushes of hatred towards her stepmother, who is deliberatly evil. While your story is not badly written, it clearly failed at being sad for that reason.

There are many ways this could have turned out well, the mother using doubtful, but in HER mind righteous and good means of education, Scootaloo being neglected because her caretaker needs to work all the time to keep clothes on their backs, stuff like that. I think you should eliminate the sad tag from this story, this is just dark--and I'd add the gore tag for good measure, although I don't know if blood is enough for that, but it'd do it.

Listie The Scribe Maid

Listie The Scribe Maid #3 · Jan 21st, 2013 · · 1 ·

(Joke) Alt. Title: In My Life: Scootaloo's Childhood Sucked

Frost Wind

Frost Wind #4 · Jan 21st, 2013 · · ·

Not bad. Not bad at all.

mandopony

mandopony #5 · Jan 21st, 2013 · · ·

I agree with wYvern fellow. A dark tag would be more appropriate for the story. However the sad tag could stay if in later chapters there are sad scenes such as her step mother taking away her CMC cape, baring her from hanging out with her friends, or some important pony she idolizes blows her off causing her to question whether its worth being alive or better being dead. As well as other things of this nature.

Darkentrophy

Darkentrophy #6 · Jan 21st, 2013 · · ·

Out-and-out Scootabuse. The story is pretty much one scene after another of her stepmother finding new reasons and ways to punish her. Go watch Cinderella or read the first entry in A Series of Unfortunate Events to see how this should be done.

Abuser

Abuser #7 · Jan 21st, 2013 · · ·

1992211>>1992033
Sorry it was infuriating, I figured it would be easy enough to feel sorry for Scootaloo while feeling anger towards the mother, I didn't think one would over power the other. I actually thought the two would work together well, but I guess I was wrong.

PaleRider

PaleRider #8 · Jan 21st, 2013 · 1 · ·

1995773

Look, I don't hate what you done here. It's just that I don't understand the goal. If was feeling despair towards Scoot situation, then yes, I feel it. The problem is that her mother is so cruel and cold that the anger you feel towards her for doing those things to Scoot is enough to want to nail her head with a bat and take the filly from her claws. The sadness you are supposed to feel gets overpowered by the anger...

I want to be a father someday, and I know that I will love my child with all my heart. That's why I can't withstand this fic. Now let's immerse ourselves in some fantasy for an instant: If you, by god-knows-why motives found a My Little Pony character, a filly pony in some dark corner, would you be able to treat her like this?
When I read it, I kept thinking that her mother was spiting on a gift that she received, a gift that I would turn into a treasure. And I hate when someone have something that is a dream come true to me, and don't give a fuck, let alone treat it like trash.

I didn't even saw that the fic was incomplete. Sorry, not going to read this one anymore, it make me want to vomit, but I praise your flawless text, and impecable execution.

I know that all this rambling is just a bunch of personal opinions, I dunno if they can give you any kind of support, but that's what I feel towards this fic. Hope you can squeeze something helpful, sorry.

FenrisianBrony