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Chapter 1

Chapter 1
“How much further?” Whined the little orange Pegasus. “It feels like we’ve been walking for hours.”
“It’s been ten minutes Scootaloo, quit yer belly ache’n.” Her friend Applebloom told her.
“Well it’s been uphill.” Scootaloo said trying to hold back a smile. She loved to bug her.
“It’s a small hill. Besides you ride around town on that scooter of yours for hours, can’t you handle a little walk?” Appleblom said clearly irritated. Scootaloo broke into laughter and after realising what she was doing Applebloom stopped and began to giggle too. Scootaloo noticed there was a voice missing from their choir of laughter. She glanced behind her. Sweetiebelle was behind them struggling her way up the hill. “I sure hope all this walking worth it.”

“I told ya’ll,” Scootaloo looked at Sweetie Belle and rolled her eyes knowing her friend was about to go off on another rant. “, the apples that come of this tree are the best I’ve ever tasted even Applejack agrees with me.” Apple Bloom had always looked up to her sister and even Scootaloo’s interest was piqued at hearing this. If there was one thing A.J. knew, it was apples. “She says it has something to do with all the sunlight at the top of the hill or something.

"Now come on we’re nearly there!” she said resuming her march up ahead. Sweetie Belle started with a huff and Scootaloo laughed despite herself. Sweetie shot her a mean looking glance and the orange filly composed herself “Sorry.” Sweetie smiled and she knew she was forgiven.

Applebloom wasn’t lying when she said they were nearly there. Another thirty seconds of walking and they were at the top. The apple tree looked completely identical to almost every tree in Sweet Apple Acres and Scootaloo couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. After the way her friend talked about this tree was like it was magical or something. She was about to voice this opinion to Applebloom but the look of beaming pride on her friends face stopped her.

“Who wants to try one?” Applebloom called “Me!” the other fillies called. Scootaloo missed lunch to come all the way out to the barn and from the sound of Sweetiebelles deep huffing it sounded like she’d worked up an appetite. The yellow filly approached the tree and stared at it for a moment as if confused. “Is everything ok?” Scootaloo asked

“Yeah it’s just,” her voice trailed off

“Just what?”

“I’ve never bucked an apple tree before,” She said quietly

Scootaloo just stared dumbfounded. Her friend who had lived on an apple farm all her life had never bucked a tree? “Every time I’ve ever come up here it was with my sis or big Mac.” She explained. Scootaloo felt laughter bubbling up inside her and she was about to let it out but Appleblooms face was so red it looked like she had a fever.

“Hey it’s ok,” Sweetiebelle reassured her friend. Sweetie was good at making her friends feel better. “We’ll just watch and offer advice.”

Applebloom looked gratefully to the little unicorn. “You promise not to laugh if I mess up?” she asked warily.

“Promise” she said.

“Promise.” Scootaloo echoed after a look from Sweetiebelle.

“Pinkie Promise?” After pinkie promising, Applebloom went to work on the tree mumbling about a trick her sister had taught her once. The two other crusaders sat on a nice grassy patch on the hill. Scootaloo listened to Sweetiebelle hum a tune that could only be described as lovely, a term which she hated to use.

As Scootaloo watched her friend buck the tree she felt an utter peace that only these two fillies could bring. She didn’t dare tell them this, for fear of being ridiculed, but she much preferred the days where they took a break from crusading to hang out.

Scootaloo’s gaze shifted to a patch of sky behind the shaking apple tree. A single cloud floated out on a blue canvas. The sunlight shone on it in such a way that made each round detail visible. It’s beauty was lost on Scootaloo however as her friends tune and the lonely cloud carried her thoughts away to a time when she lived on a cloud. The first ten years of her life. The worst ten years of her life.

Nights in Cloudsdale were almost always cold and even in the middle of summer there were no exceptions. On this particular summer night, a little orange filly sat alone in the dark on the side of a dead street, shivering. She didn’t mind the alone part as she’d gotten quite used to it over the past few years. The filly let out a long sigh and watched her foggy breath hang in the air for a few moments before it was blown away by a sharp gust of wind. She winced from the bite of cold the wind carried but still she persisted, desperately fighting the cold. “I think my feathers have frozen solid.” She mumbled to nopony in particular. She knew she had to go home at some point and dreaded the fact. She knew she couldn’t lie her way out of why she was so late this time. It was almost midnight. He was going to be mad.

Scootaloo looked around the empty street. She supposed it used to be busy because there were lots of shops with signs of elegant design. Now though the signs were unreadable and all but two of the shops had boarded windows. But that was fine with her because if there were no shops nopony would bother coming down this part of the city and if there were no ponies she couldn’t get laughed at. In fact the little filly returned to this street so often she considered it like a second home, maybe even a first home considering her house was her least favorite place in the world, and inside her least favorite pony in the world resided. She was out late. He wasn’t going to be happy.

Another long gust of wind almost knocked her over and it stung so much her eyes began to water. Her house wasn’t quite a home but there was a bed there, and it was warm enough. The little Pegasus summoned the will to turn and begin her walk home.

Before she set off she cast a look upwards, towards the stars. Scootaloo considered for a brief moment making a wish on the stars like she did when she used to believe in magic. A wish that would take her far away. “How long would I have to fly to join you?” she asked them. She knew there wasn’t much that got higher than Cloudsdale but they still seemed so far. Maybe one day some brave Pegasus would fly to them and find out how far away they are. But not her. She gave a few sad flaps of her wings and left the stars behind.

It was an hour after midnight before she got back to her house. She stood on the threshold of the property and stared at it warily like it was one of the odd ponies that stumbled upon her street drunk in the night. Scootaloo swallowed heavily before trotting to the door. If she was lucky, maybe he would be asleep. Or at the very least, not drunk. Her house was small and shabby just like the rest of the neighbourhood but most of the neighbours were nice to her. Like Mrs.Potts who always said hi to her on her way to school and even sometimes gave her a piece of candy if there was any to spare. Scootaloo heard her name used to be Pretty Potts but if there was ever a time when she was pretty Scootaloo wasn’t around to see it. But she did have a very pretty garden. She was Scootaloos favorite neighbour. She was the only one who asked about the bruises...

Scootaloo slowly pushed the door open and flinched when the hinges creaked. It was dark and quiet inside which gave her confidence he was passed out. She chanced a trip to the kitchen for a glass of water. The sink was so full of dishes that it was a challenge to fit the glass under the faucet but after moving some stuff around she emerged victorious. While she triumphantly guzzled down her water a voice from behind her startled her into choking. “How was the walk home?” he said his words slurred.

“Hello dad.” She said voice barely audible.

“How was the walk home?” he repeated simply.

“Fine” she replied not turning to face him.

“I’m not stupid you know.” Even from behind her she could smell alcohol on his breath

“Could’ve fooled me.” She mumbled

“I know it doesn’t take until one o’clock in the morning to walk home from school.” Her father said. His voice had risen.
She turned

“I got lost.” His blue mane and coat were a mess and the bags under his eyes were even darker than usual. He was leaned up on the counter beside the fridge, on his other side an almost empty bottle of whiskey sat.

“Oh you got lost?” he said disbelievingly

“Yeah.” She said temper flaring. “Isn’t that what you said? ‘get out of here ya little rat ah’m tireda lookin’ atcha’” she said imitating his gruff slurred voice

“Don’t you dare back-sass me filly!” he shouted flinging his bottle to the wall. As it shattered glass flew across the kitchen. The little filly flinched but after realising what she’d done she stood up straight. After an outburst like that she couldn’t afford to lose face. Instead she chose the easy way out.

“I’m going to bed.” Her voice was barely above a whisper and she was fighting the urge to tremble. She turned and trotted swiftly out of the kitchen, towards the stairs.

“Hey, HEY,” her father called behind her. She continued to the steps faster now. She heard his hooves hit the floor from off the counter. “You better come back here right now!” Faster. “Don’t you dare walk away from me you-you CRIPPLE!”

She stopped dead and her wings reflexively shot out. She turned her head and stared at him through her wing feathers. “Don’t call me that.” She said her voice shaking.

“What, Cripple?” Scootaloo could practically hear him smiling. She fought the tears harder than she’d ever fought them before. He hit her where it hurt most and he knew it. She turned and sure enough his yellow teeth were prominently displayed.

“I’m not a cripple.” She said raising her own voice. Her dad’s voice had lowered again to take a more mocking tone.

“You’re right. I suppose you’d have to have had an accident to be a cripple. You were just born lame.” Scootaloo couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He’d never been this blatant about her...disability.

“I’m normal.” She said voice shaking. She was beginning to lose the fight against the tears.

“A Pegasus that can’t fly?” he laughed “Oh right completely normal.”

“SHUT UP!” she snapped. Oh no. His smile disappeared and his eyes blazed. “What did you just say to me, filly?” he said his voice slow and quiet and dangerous. She stared up at her dad. He towered over her. She knew how this would end. Every time she was brave enough to argue or talk back she either apologised or... had an “accident”. That was what she had to tell the teacher, if she even bothered to ask about the bruises which she never did.

But not this time. She would back down from this monster, not after what he said. “I said shut up.” His eyes were like fire he gave a loud growl as he tried to grab her. She jumped away and he raised his hoof and swung at her. She jumped again and he stumbled. In blind fear and anger Scootaloo spun around and bucked her father in the jaw. He sprawled to the floor.

He lay still. Her emotions were confused. Terrified angry and... hopeful. But then he coughed and stared at her incredulously. She could see that behind his mask of anger there was a fear in his eyes. A fear of her. And for a moment the sight of this made her the closest thing she’d been to happy in a long time. For almost a minute he stared at her not getting up and she stared back. He then raised himself to his hooves and she took a slow step back. He then spoke the clearest words he’d spoken all night.

He didn’t slur or stumble he just said flatly, “Get out.” And Scootaloo gave a slight gasp. She could tell by his tone he didn’t just mean out of the living room. “Get out of my house.”
“Gladly.” she retorted and winced when her voice cracked and ascended the stairs to her room.

It was a small and bland room just like most of the house. There were only a few pieces of furniture decorating it. And almost empty dresser, a small but soft cloud bed and a shelf above the bed containing the only physical items that made her happy. Well, aside from Mrs.Potts. She hopped up on to the bed and grabbed two things. One was a jar of bits she’d been collecting since she could remember; most of them were off the street. The other was a photograph of a beautiful yellow mare from about 12 years ago. Her only picture of her mother.

She stared at the rest of the items on the shelf. Mostly crayon drawing from when she was a really little filly. Pictures of her flying in the clouds when she was all grown up. She decided she didn’t need to hold on to broken dreams where she was going. Wherever she was going. She placed her bits and picture into her saddle bag and cast one more glance around the room where she spent 10 years of her life. Her only safe room. She closed the door with an empty feeling.

She scarcely felt herself as she walked towards the door. She felt as though she were floating, which would usually be an exciting feeling for her. As she approached the door it seemed larger almost as if it were containing more behind it than it had before as she brought her hoof to the handle, she heard her father’s voice one last time. “Hey Scootaloo.”

She flinched at the sound of her name. She turned her head to see her father still in the kitchen, holding a bag of ice to his face. She expected the same speech as every other time he raised a hoof to her.

“I’m sorry Scootaloo. It will be different next time Scootaloo. It wasn’t my fault Scootaloo.” Whose fault was it then? She always wanted to ask but the question caught in her throat. This time he said something different. Something she could never unhear. Something that would haunt her for years to come.

“I hope you fall off the cloud layer, you little disappointment.”

The words hit her harder than any hoof ever could. They hit so hard it wasn’t until she had curtly nodded shut the door and walked into the night that she let the tears flow. And flow they did. Scootaloo sobbed louder and harder than she could ever remember. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was so sad. She finally stood up to her father and was finally free of that damn house but the only emotion she could muster was... heartbreak. She stared up at the world around her. She wasn’t sure if it was just the tears but suddenly the world looked much bigger. And she was alone.

Author's Note:

Hi it might be totaly obvious but I'm not a very experienced writer. I know the topic of Scootaloo's backstory has been done to death but I'd been working on this for a while before I found all the stories about her. Anyway I would totaly love some feedback as I'm always trying to improve my writing. So leave a comment and/or like and dislike as you please. Also please point out any grammer or spelling mistakes and I will fix them when I get the time and I will try to have a new chapter every week. Thanks all!

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SilentBelle

SilentBelle #1 · Apr 26th, 2013 · · ·

Alright so I read it like I do with most stories that have Sweetie Belle tagged in it, and I like the idea behind this piece. But it's also quite obvious some of the mistakes you've made. I'll send you a PM detailing a lot of the stuff you can work on. Feel free to discuss it with me if you have any further questions. And thanks for writing.

Comment posted by SanicTheHedgehog deleted May 2nd, 2013

A Feather in the Wind - Ghosttown Brony

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Chapters Next
Close
Chapter 12,704 words
Chapter 23,237 words
Chapter 34,813 words
Chapter 44,509 words

Chapter 1