The stories are real... very, very real...
War was what she faced; morning, noon and night. She didn't want to come home, never ever. It was too much for somepony her age to bear. The fighting, yelling, screaming, broken dishes and it all resulted in sleepless nights with worrying. Only hoping that it'd end... but it never did. And every night, if she was lucky to catch a few winks, there would be dried tears on her pillow and blanket. The worn-out teddy bear she had should've been her protector, but it did nothing. It gave her false security. Lies that it would all be ok. That she would be ok... but would she? Really? Would she ever escape?
... She's tried before. And it didn't work. He found her and dragged her home, locked her in her room for days. She had nothing. By the time her freedom was granted, all she wanted was to be locked in once more. So that way, she could just escape it all. Stay there forever. Just try and ignore it. But, sometimes, on those very rare occasions, he'd leave... to go get more cider. Or cigarettes. or whatever he was hooked on.
It would be quiet for once, unless you listened closely. There'd be whispering and faint sobbing. So heartbreaking it was something you really thought was just a rumor...
"Shh, baby. Baby, calm down. It's gonna be ok..."
"I don't wanna live here anymore, Mom."
Scootaloo hated life. That wasn't normal. Not at all for a filly her age. She was only four. She was going to be five soon. She didn't want presents or a party... she wanted a true home. One that made her feel happy. It would warm her heart and the house wouldn't reek of alcohol or smoke. There wouldn't be any screaming. It wouldn't be like it was now.
"Scoot, sweetie, I don't want to either. I wanna leave too. But we can't."
"Why not?" the young filly sniffled. "We could go now."
"Your dad would find us."
"Dolly! Where's my dinner?"
A kiss was placed on Scootaloo's forehead as she watched her mother leave the room... and so, it began once more. The real life nightmare.
"Dolly!"
"I'm right here! What do you want?"
"What the hell do you think I want? Where's my dinner?"
A silence.
"What's that?"
"Woman, you don't ask me anything, you do what I say!"
"Tell me what that is."
Another silence, with a light thud soon following.
"Woman, you hear me? You ask me nothing! I've got my own business! Now get back in the kitchen, then meet me in the bedroom. That's all you're ever good for."
A loud crash. Not again.
"You bastard!"
"What did you just call me?"
"You heard me."
A bang, and a shriek. Murmuring, but it wasn't apology. Scootaloo had heard it one too many times to figure out the true meaning. It was begging for mercy. Her mother didn't want to be hit again.
"Aerial, please..."
"You're lucky that you're a pretty mare, Doll." A pause. "Now pour me a drink."
He had let her off easy this time. He must have been sober, for once. Thank Celestia and Luna.
"Where's that brat of ours?"
Or maybe not.
"She's out. With her friends."
"Don't lie to me, Dolly. I know that brat's here."
A pause and then a scream, followed by a bang.
"I told you to never lie to me."
Loud bangs were heard throughout the hallway and without even thinking twice, Scootaloo knew what it was. Her father's drunken walk. His hooves would never know which way left or right was, or back and forth; he'd bang into the wall more than once. The proof was the holes. They weren't just from when he couldn't walk either. He'd get really mad. And he'd hit things. The couch. The walls. His wife.
His child.
"Please don't. Please don't. Please don't."
The doorknob was being played around with. Was he struggling to open it? Scootaloo could only pray that he wasn't.
"Dolly! This door won't open!"
A loud thud. Shrieks.
"You worthless whorse! What's wrong with you?"
Scootaloo didn't have to see what was going on to know. Her mother was taking it again. Taking all of the worst end. The beating. The cursing. The hurt. Something that would be scarred in her mind forever.
"You don't touch me! You hear me? You don't fucking touch me!"
Silence.
"Well? Aren't you going to fight back? Or was that just a stupid act?"
In a choked and breathless whisper, all that Scootaloo could hear her mother say was, "No. I hate you, so much. You don't deserve to live."
And the screams continued. Banging. The breaking of glass. Shrieks that could cause deafness. It was such a surprise that no one had ever suspected anything.
"You'd be nothing without me! Nothing! You hear that? I'm the reason you're not on the street! You've got nothing, except that little ungrateful accident of a brat you call a child!"
The little filly dived underneath her bed, whispering prayers to Celestia that it would all be over soon, and that, maybe, just maybe, this was actually all just a really bad dream. Scootaloo would wake up in her bed, walk to the room of her loving parents and they'd sing her to sleep, until the horrible thoughts went away. She wouldn't have to be scared to walk outside of her bedroom anymore. She could invite the few friends she had over to her home. They could have playdates. She wouldn't have to be scared.
... But her mother's screams and whines were reality. And dreams were the exact opposite of reality.
"Stay there, and don't you move. I'm going out." The front door slammed and the crash of many things falling echoed throughout the household.
Hesitantly, Scootaloo cowardly moved out from underneath her bed and slowly pushed open the door, only for her gaze to fall upon a horrifying sight.
"Mom...?" the bloodied, bruised and beaten pegasus mare lying underneath a broken shelf was not her mother. Scootaloo knew her mother as a strong, daring, beautiful and thoughtful mare who wouldn't hide from a fight or desert anypony. The one the filly's sight was inspecting wasn't it. This mare looked frightened and weak, afraid to do anything, even move a muscle.
"It's not that bad, baby."
"Mom..." Scootaloo was taught not to cry over injuries and as she slowly stepped towards, her mother, that rule went out the window. The dam broke and tears flowed. "Mommy..." The last time that was said? Never. Even for her first word, the young filly had always said Mom.
Dolly herself nearly cried as she outstretched her forelegs to her daughter. "C'mere, Scoots." But her daughter did not. She kept staring. Staring at the shard of glass in her mother's hoof. Part of a broken cider bottle.
"It doesn't hurt."
Scootaloo bit her lip and continued to cry, despite the blood and injuries, rushing straight into her mother's embrace. "Mommy..."
"I know, baby. I know. It'll be ok."
"It'll never be ok."
... What kind of comeback could you tell your child if that was the truth? Lying to a child was like a crime; something unforgivable and unacceptable.
"I can get you some band-aids."
"No."
"Mom..." Scootaloo's lavender eyes shone with tears as she looked up at her mother. "You can't stay like this."
"I won't, Scoots." Dolly whispered, placing a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "We'll get out of here someday. I just don't know when."
"Will it be soon?"
A moment of silence between the two before the elder mare herself began to weep. "I don't know, baby. I don't know."
The filly continued to sniffle as she looked over her mother once more, to find more horrifying sights. Strikes, with what looked like a whip, thin ones, across the explorer-themed cutie mark the mare beheld; crimson blood, slowly drying every other second, was staining the tan coat; small shards of glass and wood in the black and grey mane...
"I'll be fine."
"Mom..." Scootaloo whined, hugging her mother once more. "I hate it here."
Tears streaming down her cheeks, careful not to injure her child, the pegasus mare held the filly close and nodded. "I do too, Scootaloo, sweetheart. I do too." She lowered her voice to a whisper, "But I promise you, we're gonna get out of here."
"Make me smile."
... What an outrageous request. How could that be possible? At a time like this, knowing what they had? How it would possibly never get better, for at least a while, anyway? And when was the last time either of them had so much has a grin across their expression?
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine... you remember this song?"
Scootaloo nodded. "You make me happy, when skies are grey." she murmured.
"You'll never know, dear, how much I love you... Please don't take my sunshine away..." Dolly sang in a breathless whisper, holding her child close.
A small smile of sorts spread across the filly's muzzle as the tears of sadness and fear continued. "Can you sing it again?"
"I'd do anything for you, sweetie." And once more, the mare began to sing the short and simple, yet comforting, lullaby, but meanwhile, in her mind, all she had was ideas of how to escape this Hell.
Three years later, there was a scream in the night...
"Shh, shh, shh, baby, Scootaloo, calm down."
"M-m-mom?"
"I'm right here, sweetie."
The filly whimpered and outstretched her forelegs for a hug, which her mother gladly gave. "It was the dream again."
"It's ok, Scoots."
A moment of silence passed between the two, before full blown sobbing escaped Scootaloo. "He's gonna come back, isn't he?"
"He'll never find us. I promise you." Dolly retrieved the worn-out, but now patched up, teddy bear from the floor. "I think the dream came back because Teddy wasn't fighting it."
The filly chuckled and snatched the toy from her mother. "Mom. I don't call it that anymore."
"Of course you don't."
Scootaloo managed a sly smile as she held her beloved Teddy tighter and held back tears. "Mom?"
"Yeah, baby?"
With glossed over eyes, she hesitated, looking around in the darkness. The one that she didn't have to be frightened about. No one would come after her. There would be no horrified screams. This place was where she belonged. It was all new...
Scootaloo's gaze fell on the hardbacks sitting on her bedside table. Endless Daring Do novels, with the penname of somepony she knew well engraved on the covers. The villain on the front, she knew the inspiration personally. So did her mother.
But at the same time, the heroine of the books was somepony they were. They beat the one who inspired the villain and now...
It was finally all ok.
"Don't let Ahuizotl win. Daring Do always has to beat him... right?"
The mare smiled, only before chuckling as she pulled her daughter into yet another tight embrace.
"He'll never win, Scoots. Me, you and Daring will keep fighting him."
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This looks like another sadfic...
cdn.derpiboo.ru/media/BAhbB1sHOgZmSSJTMjAxMy8wMS8yMi8wMV8yMl8yM183NDFfMjIwMjYwX19VTk9QVF9fc2FmZV9hcHBsZWphY2tfcmVhY3Rpb25faW1hZ2UuanBlZy5qcGVnBjoGRVRbCDoGcDoKdGh1bWJJIgwyNTB4MjUwBjsGVA/220260__safe_applejack_reaction-image.jpeg.jpeg
two in one day 0.0
um...
Well... that wasn't what I was expecting. Normally I don't read Scootabuse fics but seeing Daring Do as a character I had to give it a chance. To be honest I like the ending, Scootaloo is not an orphan and her mother loves her very much. That by itself separates your story from most of the Scootabuse fics out there. You did good.
2003363 That's because it is! *evil laugh*
2003364 I'm magical~~~
2003367 ... What?
2003392 Glad you liked!
While the story was good I found it difficult to believe that as an adventurer she has to take abuse from her husband, I mean she's supposed to be tougher than that.
2003409 Hmm, maybe I should have explained more. Dolly is not Daring Do, in my eyes. She is the author of the Daring Do books and Daring is highly based off of her personality/looks. (Besides, even the strongest of women can get into abusive relationships.)
I hope you enjoyed the story though.
2003415 The story was good but maybe you should reedit the fic a bit to include that little tidbit to avoid complications in the future.
"You'd be nothing about me!
I think you meant "You'd be nothing without me!" though I could be wrond.
Another good story. Though I agree a bit with 2003430. Until the last few lines, I was thinking Scootaloo's mom WAS Daring Do. Still an enjoyable story. Keep it up.
That was beautiful. In some twisted way, that was beautiful. It reminded me a lot of the movie: Once Were Warriors. If you've ever seen it, you wold see where I'm drawing this allusion from. If not, I'll sum it up for you: an abusive, alcoholic father slowly but surely tears his family apart, and after a series of heart aches his wife finally decides to storm out, taking the kids with her. A truly powerful film. I feel as though that same vibration the film gave me carried over to this story just as well. I thought it was quite clever the way you conveyed Daring in this story, that is to say the author of the novels with a little bit of her daughter's spunk thrown in, and embodied the father/husband as the arch-nemesis of the series. Kudos to you for taking such an odd concept and turning it into this piece. I enjoyed my read, thanks. Let's hope that others decide to give this one a shot before judging it based on the off putting coverart though.
Loathe,
Your Antagonist
2004339 I'm glad you liked it!
Poor Scootaloo.
Right into my unshielded feels. Owie, owie, owie, well done.
Thank you for this story.
It was truly sad, but it was amazing.
Both horrible, not meant in a bad way, and beautiful.
I never really like stories were children are being abused or are stuck in abusive homes but...
I truly like this story, it had a type of Dark Hope to it that made it vary magnetizing.
I liked the unique correlations you did with the Author-mother-main character of the series and the Villain-father-true villain.
I am at a lost for any more words right now.
but three things; 1). Think of the all the invisible strings that tie us together.
2). I hope you keep writing.
3). Good luck in the future.
Thank you again.
2008200 You're very welcome!
A sad, but very well done story.
Good job
Spoiler for those who didn't get the ending: Scootaloo's mother is NOT Daring Do, obviously, but she writes the books and the character of Daring is based off of her. Ahuizotl is based off of Aerial, Scoot's jerkwad of a dad.
I can't remember whhy exactly, but, whenever I hear or read it, it always brings tears to my eyes: You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skys are grey, you'll never know dear, how much I love you, please, don't take my sunshine away... Thank you, I really needed this.
2116095 No problem whatsoever.
ARGH!
Right in the heartstrings.
The feels man, the feels!
You seriously seem to have a talent for making me tear up with your sadder stories.
It's absolutely brilliant.
I need to stop underestimating your power within the "Sad" and "Dark" tags.
Keep at it, because when it's absolutely brilliant.
2138372 Glad you thought so!
2138372 *pulls out M16 and shoots the feels* GOD DAMN FEELS MAKING PEOPLE SAD!
Commendable effort! Domestic abuse is a very dangerous area for writers to delve into, but you pulled it off well. I especially like the opening paragraphs, where we're immediately pulled into Scootaloo's world, and from the very beginning we're shown just how trapped and helpless she feels. And the ending twist was actually pretty creative, with the mother and daughter using the fictional world of Daring Do as a means of escapism.
My only complaint is that the dialogue can sometimes come off as a little... ham-fisted, especially the father character's.
I mean, I understand he's supposed to be a bastard, but when he outright says, "You're a woman and therefore only good for cooking and sex," he comes off as more of a strawman than a real person (or, rather, a real stallion). Do you get what I'm saying?
I know this is a rather old story, but freaking wow, Princess Rares!
I am not normally a fan of scootabuse, because often it is done for shameless feels. But this, wow. Domestic abuse is scary as shit, and this story captured it… well, I hate to use the word amazing, given the context, so let's go with really, really well. I am amazed the way you were able to treat such a dark story with such sincerity.
I've read and faved a few of your stories, and heard a few of the others read by ObabScribbler.
But this story. This story impresses upon me how good a writer you are, and deserve a follow.
Interesting.
I liked it.
6021774 It's self-explanatory; Dolly eventually got out, spoke up to the police and Aerial went to prison, so Scootaloo was finally a happy little filly.
6022233 I don't touch old stories.
That O should be capital.
those feels man
Oh, wow.