Scootaloo sat on the bed in her room. Life was hard and bothersome for her in the orphanage. A nice, large house, that she thought was hers. But it was abruptly changed into an orphanage when Mayor Mare declared it to be an orphanage. Ponies stormed inside, a few full-grown mares and stallions and many, many foals. Too many to count.
She sent to this home to live alone, away from her supposedly evil parents. Scootaloo remembered it like it was just yesterday. Only a filly at the age of three, Scootaloo was an only-foal. She was intelligent enough to trot and talk, but she didn't understand it. Then she realized what really happened with her real parents when she was at the age of six.
Her parents seemed to dislike the princess for a reason that Scootaloo never discovered, but as a result, they were brutally killed right in front of the young, orange filly. Spears stabbed them in their chests, blood spewed everywhere. But Scootaloo wasn't heartbroken or depressed in the least bit. She was only scared. Then countless amounts of heavily-armored guards surrounded her. One of them picked them up. The armor on their hooves were cold like ice when Scootaloo felt it, but the guard's grasp seemed heartwarming. She missed that guard, but she felt like it was the most unfair ever to have hundreds of guards kill her parents so violently just because they disliked the princess for an unknown reason right in front of Scootaloo when she was only three.
