"What is there to be frightened of, about buttons?"
-Neil Gaimen
The house wasn't the same to her anymore as it had been years ago. To one who would happen to stumble upon it by chance at night, it was as if a magical power had come upon the structure and snuffed out any light and life that it used to harbor to the outside world.
Where there had once been music now was silent. Where there had once been decorum and a well-trimmed garden was now slightly less pristine. And where there had once been three ponies, and occasionally more when the extended family arrived, there was only one.
But the one knew otherwise. It was just her little secret
The crescent moon shone down on the orange filly as she trotted to the house her family had once lived in, similar in structure to the others but farther off from the main part of the town. Scootaloo had gone to hang out with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle for the day, until it was time for them all to head home for the night. Neither of her friends had been to her house, and didn't want to be rude and ask why she had never invited them in the first place.
It's good though, Scootaloo reasoned to herself. I don't exactly want them to find out yet. I probably should ask permission first.
Arriving at the doorway of the empty house, Scootaloo opened the wooden door, having become used by now to the haunting silence that followed the eerie creak. She knew that this would be considered by many to be the realm of Nightmare Night tales, with its untrimmed plants and lack of welcoming lights, but it was something she had become used to over time. Besides, this part of the house was almost foreign to her now, since she felt she spent so little time there.
At the very least, little time in the parts of the building that any passerby saw.
The house was decently furnished, with a circular wooden table in the kitchen, couches and chairs, and a bed on the lower floor where Scootaloo's parents had once slept. The filly herself got the upstairs portion.
She carefully checked the furniture, brushing it every so often and shaking off any particles of dust that rest on her hoof. She always tried to keep the house tidy, just in case, to give the illusion that there were more ponies here. Or perhaps it was to keep the memories alive.
Scootaloo trotted up the steps—bare, wooden, with a slight curve to their structure—humming a little tune to herself. She was glad that Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom hadn't been too pressing on her home life, or potential lack thereof, not even when she had declined Sweetie Belle's offer to sleep over for the night.
True, they had come over several times, but she was never completely open about the house's secrets, or what happened to her parents. And she hadn't breathed a word about her secret hideaway, not even the barest of hints that such a thing existed. They weren't ready to know.
Maybe she'd tell her friends someday. But not yet. Not tonight.
The filly reached her room and turned on the light, illuminating her living space. Her bed was a light blue bedspread, a beanbag chair next to a bookshelf, and on the wall near her closet hung a few pictures from her Rainbow Dash Fanclub meetings.
She leapt onto her bed, gripping the small plush toy that sat upon it among the white, cushioned pillows. It was a doll, a replica of Scootaloo in almost every way, down to the smaller wings. The only difference was the eyes, with large black buttons in place of her normal magenta-colored eyes.
It had been sitting among her birthday gifts when she turned 8, the birthday after they moved into this house, though her parents had insisted they didn't remember picking it up. Nevertheless, Scootaloo came to like it and kept it close to her since then, finding it now to be a treasured possession of hers.
She hugged the doll tightly in her hooves, giving it a warm smile. "Didja miss me, Button?"
The filly than moved the doll around to mimic the plush toy responding, speaking in a lower, comical voice. "Of course I missed you! I bet you had fun today!"
Scootaloo laughed. "Sure did!"
"You should tell Mother all about it," Button 'said'. "I'm sure she'll love to hear it."
Giving the doll an affectionate squeeze, Scootaloo placed it back among the pillows as she leapt down from her bed. Looking back and forth, as if making sure that absolutely nopony had crept into the house, Scootaloo leaned her fore hooves against her bed and pushed with all her might. Moving it inch by inch to the right, grunting elightly from the exertion, she eventually moved the bed far enough to reveal what had been hidden behind it.
There, blended into the wooden wall but still enough to be seen, was a small door. One just big enough for a filly like her to crawl through.
Eyes intent, Scootaloo wrapped her hoof around the brass knob and pulled the door open, revealing a passageway that seemed to be filled with faint but vibrant colors as she squinted. The swirls of color brought a smile to her face, almost enchanting her, a bit of new vigor into the atmosphere present in this house.
With purpose and without looking back, she crawled through, a smile broadening on her face. The further she crawled, the more vibrant the colors became.
She remembered having felt dizzy the first time she traveled through the small tunnel, but now it was simple to her, as easy as walking down one of Ponyville's streets.
Until, finally, she reached the door on the other end of the tunnel and opened it, unveiling the world unknown to the outside. A land out of a dream.
Scootaloo's eyes lit up with glee, as they did every time she entered this place. The dull coloration of the house she knew was absent, replaced with a vibrancy and wonder that outmatched just about any of the wonders of Equestrian.
Shutting the door behind her, the filly stood and took in everything around her, trotting up the red carpeted stairwell that seemed to be double the size of the one in her old home. The staircase here was more elaborate, doors to other rooms visible on both floors. As the doors opened, some of the residents waving their hooves to say hello, it was clear that these weren't ordinary rooms.
As Scootaloo reached the top of the stairs, she heard a commotion from the door on her left. "Aw, blast it!"
Regognizing the gruff voice immediately, Scootaloo swung the wooden door open, leading to a room that looked more expansive on the inside than the door would have suggested. It housed an indoor racetrack for scooters, one zipping around seemingly on its own where a frazzled, caramel-colored earth pony attempted to stop it.
"Uncle Gale!" Scootaloo shouted, running into the room.
"Hey—ow!" The stallion's greeting was interrupted by the runaway scooter hitting him square in the head before it finally stopped, leaving a slight bruise on his cheek and his jagged white mane ruffled from the blow. "Hey, Scoots."
"What'cha working on?" the filly asked, watching eagerly as her uncle held the bright green scooter in place. The fact that her uncle was looking at her with eyes that weren't those of a normal pony didn't disturb her in the slightest these days.
"Trying to invent a motorized scooter for ya," her uncle said cheerfully, propping said scooter up against the wall. "But it seems to have a few—" he winced as he kicked one of the wheels with a hoof, sending it flying and nearly hitting Scootaloo, "—malfunctions."
Scootaloo giggled slightly, pushing the dislodged red wheel back to her uncle. "Where's Mother?"
"She's up in the attic. Last I heard she said she was waiting for you to get back." A sneaky grin came over his face, and she had a feeling that his eyes would be sparkling if they could. "She's got a surprise up there for ya."
"Really?" Scootaloo's wings buzzed slightly in excitement as she darted off. "I gotta go see her! Thanks Uncle Gale!"
"No problem, kiddo," the stallion said with a chuckle.
Scootaloo hurried down the hallway to another, smaller set of stairs. Walking up the stairs and coming to a tall wooden door adorned with a floral pattern. She knocked.
"Mother?" she called. "Mother?"
There was a click as the door was unlocked, revealing a pale yellow pegasus, with a mane and tail identical in style to Scootaloo's, though the mare's mane color was a forest green. "Scootaloo, it's wonderful to see you!". The mare opened the door wider to let Scootaloo in, an invitation which the filly happily accepted. "So, how was your day, my little one?"
"Great!" Scootaloo exclaimed, eagerly flopping down on one of the beanbag chairs. "Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom and I tried to get our cutie marks in obstacle courses!"
The mare glanced at Scootaloo's flank, laughing lightly. "No luck yet?"
"Sadly no." Scootaloo's head drooped a bit in disappointment.
Her mother smiled. "Well, I have a liitle surprise for you that might cheer you up."
"Oh, right!" Scootaloo exclaimed, her mood brightening once again. "Uncle Gale said you had a surprise for me!"
"I should have known he'd blab about it, but I had to tell him.". Despite the slight irritation in her tone, the smile on the mare's face indicated she was joking around.
"So, what's the surprise?". Scootaloo knew her impatience showed, but she was eager to see what it was that her mother had planned.
"Close your eyes."
Scootaloo did so, making sure not even to peek, as much she wanted to. A thought then occurred to her as she stared into the blackness behind her eyes, hearing the rustling of boxes and papers: How exactly do their eyes work? She had wanted to ask the question before, but thought it might be considered rude.
"Okay, open your eyes!"
Scootaloo did so, and the moment she saw what was in front of her, the smile on her face broadened. The surprise was a watercolor painting, of Scootaloo surrounded by all the members of her family here. But the thing that really thrilled her about it was that the forms on the painting moved, interacting with one another.
Scootaloo felt her eyes water. "T-Thank you..."
"It was initially your father's idea," her mother added. "The rest of us kind of jumped in on it, just as a first present for the day."
Scootallo glanced up from the painting to look at her mother. "But my birthday's tomorrow."
It was then that Scootaloo saw her mother's had turn toward the wall clock which hung in the attic, and she followed suit. The clock read 12:00am.
"And now it's tomorrow."
As if her mother's words were a cue, a plethora of ponies came galloping up the stairs, the few unicorns among them helping lift a few of the presents. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SCOOTALOO!". They all exclaimed at once.
Scootaloo was almost overwhelmed by the chorus of ponies around her, but their presence brought an expression of gratitude. Here she felt welcomed, free, alive.
For her, this place was just about perfect. She had even come to accept, as she looked up at their faces, that she could tell what they were thinking even without the wide, expressive eyes of normal ponies.
That was why she was, for now, determined to keep these ponies, this fantastic playground, a closely-guarded secret.
Who knew how others would react if they learned that every family member had buttons for eyes?
