Scootaloo had been lying in bed for hours now. Though sleep still hadn’t come. She had tried closing her eyes, and counting sheep, a technique she had heard worked, but, if it did, it wasn’t all that effective on her.
She kicked the covers over and over, she felt hot, uncomfortable. Sweat filled her brow, and if she wasn’t inside her own bed, she would think she was over the hot summer sun, in the desert.
She felt thirsty, but she hesitated to move....she knew it was late, and she didn’t want to wake her caregivers. They had work in the morning. She tried to ignore the feeling of thirst, but her dry throat, and the heat the covers provided, weren’t helping.
Gently laying a hoof on the ground, then another, she slowly tip-toed her way across the house, slightly holding her breath, as if any particularly strong exasperation of air could wake the adults up. She winced every time the wood underneath her let out protesting whimpers. She hated the noise. Though quiet as it might sound, in the silent night that surrounded her, it seemed to intensify itself to the loudness of a rock concert, but the floor was old, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
The truth was, and Scootaloo continued walking as those thoughts filled her head, that she might have a fever, or a cold. She paused....was it possible she did have one? She looked back onto the day before, a day she had spent just messing around with her friends, on the search for a cutie mark.
Though no one could see it in the darkness, Scootaloo felt herself smile, that day, like every other one so far, had ended in a bust. No cutie marks, just dirt, bruises, and protests from tired muscles at the end of the day. Even now hear muscles ached, as she felt exhausted from the day’s activies.
As she finally made her way onto the kitchen, where the creaking wooden floor was replaced by a cold stone one, Scootaloo let out a sigh. She didn’t know what exactly, but she felt like something was missing. She didn’t know if it was the ability to fly, or her cutie mark, or perhaps both of those things, but she felt incomplete....and kind of weird.
The floor was neither wood nor stone, not anymore, it had been replaced by dirt. The kind of dirt which covered the playground at school. After being covered in dirt enough, anyone can identify what kind of dirt they're on top of. This dirt was soft, a kind of dirt that was perfect to absorb falls, and avoid major injuries. It was one of Scootaloo's favorite kind of dirt.
She gently pulled her hooves across the surface of the dirt, dragging some of it with her hooves. She hadn't thought of doing so, and, as she felt itself move, the situation was extremely odd. It took her a second more to notice other oddities, like how was there dirt inside her house? She noticed how bright it was, and she could feel the heat radiating from above. She couldn't move her head or any part of her body according to her will, but she felt her muscles move as she looked up, and saw the sun.
Scootaloo had no control over her actions, that much was clear to her, it was like she was there, but she wasn't really there, like a ghost! Scootaloo grinned internally, which didn't seem to show up on the outside. Maybe she had turned into a ghost, but did that mean she had died? Was she really sick?
She saw through her own eyes what she was doing. Drawing on the earth, creating sulks with her hooves, the darker dirt coming out on top, making patterns and shapes.
She could feel the coldness of the earth against her hooves, as she pushed around, it felt real.
It also reminded her of what she had done in the past, was this some kind of look back?
Because she had done this not too long ago, and if she remembered correctly the thing she was drawing on the dirt was....
Yeah, she could see the fin being drawn now, she was drawing a shark.
Exactly like last week. So it seemed like she was in the past, inside her own body! She wondered, was this like how a pony sees their life flashing before their eyes? Scootaloo wasn't sure...
She remembered how much time and effort it had taken for her to draw the shark, it had been a very cool drawing! She felt her hooves move on their own accord, as the shark took form, slowly.
It had been a fun time, and it took out most of her recess, she just hoped the shark was as good as she remembered it to be!
When she had drawn her shark, which she saw took almost all of playground and she had made sure to draw the details, like those big triangular teeth, she stopped, proud of her work.
Scootaloo, the one with no control remembered what had happened then. She grimaced, this was going to suck. She had just stood there, not answering! And now she had the perfect words to retort.
With no changes, the thing that had happened before happened again....
"Is that a Shark? What are you? A stupid colt? Maybe if you do get eaten by a shark, you get your cutie mark, into being poo!"
She heard the laughs, and felt herself as she gritted her teeth, it had been bad enough at the time, when she hadn't been able to answer her, but now, that she was expecting it, and had an answer, which she futilely shouted, but which didn't come out, was worse. Much worse. And she had thought of such a good answer!
She briefly felt herself look back to her drawing, she had a limited view of it,since she wasn't all that tall, but the shark was pretty cool.
She liked her drawing so much!
Scootaloo blinked as she came back to herself, and almost fell when she noticed she could move her hooves again, what had just happened?
Maybe it was the fever, Scootaloo did decide. And her dry throat reminded her of why she had come to the kitchen. She took a cup into her mouth and then filled it with water, the sight of which, made her stomach rumble. It was obvious she was thirsty. Maybe she had had a dehydration based hallucination? That must have been it
As she drank she looked into the moon, which was slightly visible through the holes in the window’s curtains. Scootaloo liked the moon, it reminded her of the pony who had helped her once. The pale, silvery astral body was filling the room with a soft glow, and she stared at it, fascinated.
It was night, so Scootaloo didn't notice anything strange in the beginning. The cup was gone, and that led into her next discovery, she wasn't at her kitchen anymore. She didn't know where she was, somewhere out in the cold. She once again couldn't move, out of her own free will, but by the looks of it, she was near the tree house. The moon illuminated the space around her, but she still wasn't sure of what day it was. It looked like she was a ghost, again!
"Here comes Scootaloo the ninja!" - She heard her own voice say, to tell it was surreal would be an understatement. There had only been a night where they had played as ninjas, and it hadn't had the best ending for her. She suddenly remembered what had happened that day....It had been a fun night, but the ending...oh, the ending.
She could only watch herself repeat the same errors as before, she sneaked around the bushes, like a lioness hunting a gazelle, only she didn't eat meat, she was Ninja Scootaloo! Of course no one knew her real name, she only went by Ninja S! The game, ninjas, was very similar to Hide and seek, in fact it was some sort of version of hide and seek. It was dark, but there wasn't anything that could hide into her night vision. She had quickly found Sweetie Belle, her white fur standing out against the dark foliage.
The game bored Scootaloo, specially since she knew how it would end. Not in a good way for her. But she couldn't stop any thing from happening the same way.
As they both ran to the safe spot, trying to out the other, she had an idea, Scootaloo (from the present) groaned, this was a dumb idea, but, despite that, her body did what had done before, she used what little momentum she had on her wings to throw herself on top of Sweetie Belle, they fell and rolled over on the ground. Sweetie Belle whimpering softly.
Scootaloo remembered what happened now....while she was in this tug of war with Sweetie Apple Bloom would come and run all the way to the safe spot, winning the game. She couldn't do anything to help it either, it happened again.
She already knew the words that would come out of Sweetie's mouth.
"You're such a brute, Scoots! Now we both lose!" - She said them at the same time as Sweetie, realization in her eyes. Her mouth didn't move, but her brain followed.
.
She didn’t know for how long she stared, but eventually her jaw started to feel stiff. Refocusing, Scootaloo closed it. She had been looking at the moon, and she did not know for how long, but she was aware that she had to return to bed. If she was caught out at this time, it would hard to explain why she wasn’t in bed.
She no longer felt thirst, but just confusion, just what exactly were those trips back to the past? Was she being trained to save the princess life? But she couldn't even move!
And her dry throat was dehydrated, so it couldn't have been a memory from dehydration! Confused, she made the way back to bed, even if the water had helped, she still felt a little bit feverish, and though she was tired, sleep still didn't come for her.
She kicked the covers away, and felt the refreshing night air that flew from the small openings on the window’s panes.
Her thoughts naturally fell into the day’s activities, they had tried something new, as always, and it had failed, she had once again refuted Sweetie’s idea, a pretty girly one even for her, she wanted to try and get her cutie mark on dress making, something which her sister already did. Scootaloo coed, happily, to herself, as she remembered all the other crazy ideas Sweetie had wanted them to do. Most of which were refused, and the ones she did do she didn't excel or particularly like. They all still had one thing in common, they were, without exception,pretty girly.
Scootaloo punched the pillow by her side, she hated girly, and she hated cute too! It just wasn’t her. The whole thing was, in her thoughts, dumb! Just because she was a girl it didn’t mean she had to be all focused on love, and makeup, and spas, and all that. There were plenty of things girls could be! She thought of Rainbow Dash, the least girly girl she knew.
The early morning, as indicated by the sun, Scootaloo found herself for the third time on her own body, with no control. She whined, loudly, but no sound came out on the outside. She was sitting there, in the club slash tree house, her rump against the wood. Everything was orange looking, much like her fur. it could be any day, where they had gathered to try and discuss ideas, she caught herself in the middle of a conversation, and she responded, not with her words, but with words that came from her....in the past...She only responded with unusual euphemisms. Not like anyone would hear her.
"You sure you don't want to try? A cutie mark in hoof shining would be fun!"
She groaned, there went Sweetie, and if she remembered this day correctly she would pretty soon call her a.....
Her thoughts were interrupted as she found her mouth moving.
"No Sweetie! That's stupid! I don't want my cutie mark to be a beauty thing!"
Here it came, the same old joke everyone made!
"Why? Are you a chicken?"
And the worse part was her answer, why was it that everytime she was caught of guard all she could do was stammer?
"No...just...."
And if she wasn't a chicken, she was a colt, of course.
"A colt?"
But the deepening of her voice, as she answered, to try and sound more intimidating (though she would never hut her friend) did not help her case.
"NO! I...."
Scootaloo let out a muffled shout, as she came back, compared to the early morning her bedroom was dark, she could barely see anything. It was like day and night....well it was day and night. She wondered what had happened, for three times!
Then her thoughts drifted away to some of the colts she knew, too, and she thought, how, no one expected them to be all caring, and clean, and all that.
It was like....and Scootaloo froze at the thought....it was like she was a boy! Except she still was a girl, too!
Scootaloo looked over the idea on her head. There was no doubt she was a girl, though she still didn’t know the difference between fillies and colts, she knew what she was, it was pretty obvious!
And yet....and Scootaloo’s mind raced at the idea....yet, being a boy made so much sense to her, it was like they were what she already was, and they liked what she liked.
Scootaloo’s mind zipped through her thoughts at the speed of light, if she were a boy....if she were a boy, everything would be so much easier for her.
Maybe she was a brute, colt, maybe that was what she was! It made no sense, but even her friends seemed to think so!
And yet... She also liked some girly stuff she did with her friends, it wasn’t all that obvious to anyone looking from the outside, who didn’t know her, but she wasn’t just a dirty, bad, little filly!
She had always been described as a “Tom-colt”, and she had never given it too much thought, it fit, she liked boys things to do. She also liked some girls stuff! But mostly boys.
But now...now she wasn’t so sure anymore of what she felt like.
Maybe she wasn't a filly, maybe she wasn't a chicken, maybe she was a ROOSTER! A COLT!
Yeah! She grinned excited by the idea.
But she wasn't so sure about that. She felt doubt filling her again. Confusion had settled in, and she had only one question to ask.
“What am I?”
She gently whispered into the night.
