As I trotted up to the landing, I thought about what had happened earlier that day…
“So, you’re sure this is legal?” I asked with a worried expression.
“Yeah, totally. You’re over 16 now right? Any Pony/Ponies over the age of 16 are allowed to legally carry firearms as a form of protection”. The dealer raised an eyebrow.
“And since when did that become law? Seems a bit overkill for Equestria, let alone Ponyville.”. I was shuffling nervously, as if to exclaim a sense of uncomfort.
“Since the incident with your father.”
“Oh…” My head dropped, trying to hide the shame.
Upon saying their farewells and exchanging the merchandise, I headed out of the door to the weapons store. “I hope I won’t need this, but I’m not taking any more risks. The people who treat me like shit, and my father, the worst of them; No more, I won’t put up with it.”
The stallion (Well, stallion wouldn’t be the right word for that monster. Something that inpony shouldn’t have the privilege to be labelled as one of my own kind) on my bed had a grievous look in his hollow eyes. Lifting himself off of the bed, and slowly trotting towards me, I could feel my muscles stiffen up, and my body getting more tense. “No, no, come on Scoots, don’t be intimidated by that monster!”
Before I could think of what to do, a searing pain tore across my face. I didn’t even see his hoof move, and yet…
“Come on, ‘darling’. Don’t fight it. This will feel good for both of us!”. With a chuckle, the white colt moved his head closer, tongue out ready to taste the tears soaking my cheek, still stinging from the punch.
“NO! GET OFF ME! I WON’T LET YOU DO THIS TO ME YOU FUCK!!” I screamed, tearing away at the now soggy cloth he had placed around my mouth. In an act of instinct and fast thinking, I quickly thrust my head forward. The connection between my aching head and the colt’s nose made a sharp crack. Before long, blood was streaming down the pony's face, staining the pure white coat.
For what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was a few seconds, we simply stood there, contemplating what had just happened. Me, in shock from her successful manoeuvre; And Him, blood boiling inside, let out an enraged scoff.
“Y- You bitch. How… How dare you!?”, spluttered the furious stallion.
I quell the rage rising inside me for a moment, trying to let out anything barely audible. However, before I could get a chance to speak, the white pony released to second barrage and charged towards me, attempting to catch me off guard. As the rage induced colt charging towards me gets closer and closed, time seemed to have slowed to a crawl. “This is it. It’s over. This can’t end well. Not at all…”. The flame of any hope of getting out of the locked room intact had withered down to that of a bunsen burner now.
That’s when I remembered why I had that hope in the first place. Apple Bloom. Sweetie Bell. Silver spoon. Any vain hope of ever seeing my friends again, ever laughing with them, sharing experiences together; All of that rested squarely on what I did at that moment.
And with one fell swoop, I dove into my saddlebag, finding the relieving feel of cold steel on my hoof.
In what seemed like the blink of an eye, the tables had turned immensely. With the barrel of a M9 pointed at the awe struck colt’s throat, a sense of fulfillment washed over me. Over in the opposite corner, a look of shock and disgust had entered the pony's eyes.
“I’m not your one of your sleazy sloppy seconds. I’m not one of your obedient dogs. My name is Scootaloo. When my mother sold me out, what did you think? ‘It’ll be fun! I'll get some nice flank, all for a nice price!’, I’m guessing? I’ve had enough of walking through life, not knowing what to do. I don’t care if my cutie mark is some cryptic symbol I may never know the meaning of, because I HATE people like you. And I’ll kill myself before I’m loving life, doing the thing I was made to do, while people like you are still living, ruining lives like mine.”
And with a bang, that was one less monster in the world.
It's been about 2 years since I pulled the trigger. I can't say I'm still any closer to finding out what I was made for. Not that it matters. I'm happy. I had to feel the pain of having a monster in the family. Every day, worse than the last. Thanks to the actions I take, other fillies and colts don't have to suffer that traumatic time. People like my father. They don't deserve life, like us ponies do. Sometimes, we may not be perfect, yes. But, after Twilight and her friends were able to teach people. Teach people better ways to live their life, I learned that it's the flaws that make us who we are.
I came to understand the flaws, the addictions and the reasons behind all of that. However, there are still some. The ponies who just harm. Hurt. Scar. For their own selfish gain. I don't consider them my kind. And even though I may not see my friends any more, I know their happy. Safe. Sheltered from the revolting sight of reality. Be that as it may, I am just one person. I only took the path I did because of that light coated prick. But there are others... Others who want to see the world bloom. Others who want to see beauty.
I encourage them. No matter what hardships you may face in your life, you can't just give up, and leave the 'fighting' to people like me. Do something. Make a filly smile. Say hi to a neighbor. These little things that ultimately illuminate peace, and kindness. So go on. Whoever may be reading my diary, be you a rival or an ally. A neighbor, or from another universe entirely. Carry the magic of friendship. Everyone you meet, everyone you have met. All of them, potential monsters. We don't choose who we are. It's up to the friends and family who surround us to do the right thing...
