Family Matters

I never knew my parents. Apparently, I had been left on the door step of an adoption center when I was a baby. As a filly, I sometimes imagined they were celebrities or Wonderbolts or somepony else so important and busy they had to give me up, despite it breaking their hearts. I never did find out who they were, but as I got older I decided it was more likely they were just normal ponies, maybe a little too young, who had to give me up not because they were too busy but because they just couldn't take care of me.

I was always a tomboy, growing up. I never really took interest in any kind of stereotypical girly games and activities, opting instead to play sports and race with the boys at the center. As soon as I learned to fly, I knew it was something I was destined to do, and with some practice, I was nearly unbeatable at the flight races. But not a lot of ponies wanted a tough, sporty filly. At first, I told myself they just couldn't handle my awesomeness. Champion of the sports field, and a girl to boot? They're probably just intimidated, I would think. But the more ponies that would come by, the more left without me, and the more sullen I became.

I wasn't really trying to be a rebel, honestly. I was just tired of being left behind, and I couldn't exactly fight back. But I started to mouth off to my teachers, get lower grades, and stopped caring about what I said to other ponies. I figured that if they wanted to hear the truth, I would give it to them. I wasn't going to lie to keep up appearances.

When I was 10, I decided to kick it up a notch. I was tired of getting little to no attention for what I was already doing. That's all I really wanted-attention.

So what did I do? I spray-painted a giant hot pink butterfly on the side of the building.

Before you say it, I know. A pink butterfly? Not exactly the symbol of rebellion. But I was ten, and it was easy to identify as mine. Yeah, I got all the attention I deserved for that stunt. And, as also expected, I got booted to another adoption center, a city away. The adoption workers claimed it would be good for me to get a change of scenery and to meet new ponies, but the tight tones behind their words betrayed what they were thinking. We're tired of your attitude, Glitz. Now we're finally getting you off our hooves.

At the new center, I made friends pretty easily, and there were more fillies there who liked sports, which was cool. It meant I had to work a little harder to reassert my title of Champion of the Playground, but I did it. Things weren't so different here from the first center. My new friends and I were having troubles getting adopted. The five of us-me, Rain Dancer, Solar Flare, Tumblebreeze and Nova-seemed to click immediately. When we weren't dominating all the races and sports that could be played in teams of 5, we would talk about anything. How unfair it was most adopters chose younger kids, or girls who didn't appreciate the sort of adrenaline rush that comes with scoring the winning point in the last few seconds of a game. We would talk about how, when we got older, we would all stay friends and create a new sport or join the Wonderbolts together. Occasionally, we would even talk about colts, which ones were cute or not cute and which ones were easy to beat at hoofball.

We called ourselves the Fantastic Five, dominating the fields, causing trouble wherever trouble could be caused. We spent a lot of time sitting on the bench outside the principal's office, but it was totally worth it, in my eyes. Near the end of the school year, we realized we were about to leave the elementary school, possibly forever, and we decided to go out with a bang. On the last day, instead of sitting at our usual table, the Fantastic Five sat at the table in the center of the cafeteria. The regular lunchroom bustle was cranked up to a ten in excitement of the coming summer. The smell of corn, mashed potatoes and salad drifted around. Looking around, I saw a nervous excitement in my friend's eyes. It was now or never.

I coughed exactly three times-the signal to go. In turn, they each coughed three times as well. Butterflies careened in my stomach as we yelled in unison,

"FOOD FIGHT!"

The rest was a blur. Lettuce was flying, corn sailed through the sky, I got mashed potatoes in my mane, and the floor became slippery with juice. And the principal was not amused. He informed our adoption center who informed us we were going to have to transfer.

We thought that was great. The Fantastic Five, going new places, meeting new faces, a reputation to rebuild. The thought never crossed our mind that we would get split up. But we did.

Tumblebreeze and Rain Dancer got transferred to Appleoosa. Solar Flare and Nova went to Detrot. And I was on my own again, This time in Manehattan.

The next few years were more of the same. I would be transferred to a new center, cause some trouble, maybe even make friends, but never as close as the Fantastic Five. I learned getting attached to anypony meant heartbreak.

When I was fifteen, I had basically given up all hopes of getting adopted. I spent most of my days in trees or on the rooftop of the center, anywhere I could avoid the gaze of uninterested adopters as they picked up little kids. Usually I could disappear before they ever even saw me, but one particular day, I don't know what happened. I was caught off guard by a couple walking in. In a flash of pink, I soared up towards a tall oak tree, but I knew I had been spotted. The stallion of the couple looked up at me with a gleam in his eye. He bolted up towards the old oak as well, settling down by me in my favorite branch.

"Say, kid, you're pretty fast."

I was a little surprised at the compliment. "Thanks, mister. You're pretty fast too."

"Yeah, I s'pose I am. You know, you look like you could be future Wonderbolt material." I looked at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say. "Do you know how I know?" he asked me. I shook my head.

He grinned straightened his posture. "Because I happen to train Wonderbolts, so I know a great flier when I see one. What's your name, sport?"

My jaw dropped. A Wonderbolts trainer thought I was a great flier? Then I remembered his question.

"My name is Glitterfly, sir."

"Are you up for adoption?"

Rose colored my cheeks. "Yes sir."

"Ah, none of that 'sir' business." He smiled at me and winked. "Let's see what we can do about 'dad', eh?"