The fence rocked back and forth, a creaking sound emitting from it. The wind blew in the fence's direction, the sharp gushing sound mixing with the creak.
Crrrreak
A young filly stood in the shadow of the fence. Her purple eyes shone with defience of everything she was told. Orange fur bristled with a storming anger, she couldn't believe anything.
How dare they tell her that? How could they? It wasn't fair. Other ponies could. Why couldn't she?
They were mocking her. It had to be. What else?
Crrrreak
Nopony could be so cruel.
Except them.
Her purple mane flew in the wind, whipping her face. The pain.
It wasn't just the pain from the wild mane.
It was inside.
A storm of anger. An endless pool of hate. A bottomless hole of desperation. A boundary-less land of misery.
All inside.
Crrrreak
The filly felt sick. The fence was mocking her too. Creaking in it's happy way. Laugh, laugh, laugh.
You'll never be able to do it really, could you? You never could. You never will.
"Huh? Who's talking? Show yourself! Or maybe you won't, you'll laugh like everyone else! Ha, ha, oh look it's Scootaless, can't soar, can't fly! Ha, ha!" the filly called, voice sour and dry. She knew they wouldn't come out. They had been laughing at her ever since she had left.
Ha, ha. Look who can't fly! You're even worse than a weak earth pony and a unicorn that can't cast a spell! Ha, ha! Scootaloo, the pegasus who can't fly!
Crrrreak
"Shut up, shut up! Stop!"
The young filly beat the fence in desperation. Her hooves rang out in pain at the impact. But to the filly, that didn't matter.
Nothing could beat the pain inside.
Nothing.
The young pegasus filly knew that they weren't laughing or mocking. They were telling the sincere truth.
The fall she had taken had ripped the wings right out of the sockets. Feathers lay offside, bent. Broken bones riddled the fragile limb. The speed tore muscles, ripped skin.
Crrrreak
I understand your pain, Scootaloo. I feel it too.
"No, you don't! You're just lying! Ha, ha, you'll say, ha ha, like the rest of them, ha, ha!"
The wind buffeted the filly. It was cold. She knew she should go inside, run from the cold. The instinct would have taken her over, if it wasn't for the reason she didn't care anymore.
Take her life. What would she care?
She could escape from the failure she was.
Anyway, the wind was less colder than the pain in her heart.
