Voicemail
Sitting alone in front of two graves, Scootaloo’s dress scraped atop the recently turned soil as she sat on her haunches. The dull black fabric was dampened by her tears.
She sniffled, causing another tear to run down her face and to splatter on the dirt. She knew her crying wouldn’t bring them back, but maybe the unforgiving life she lived would let itself be a fairytale, even if just for a moment.
A turquoise mare trotted up behind Scootaloo and laid a hoof on her withers. Feeling another pang of shame to spice up her sadness, Scootaloo lowered her head to avoid the mare’s gaze.
“Scootaloo… you know, it’s a damn shame this happened to your parents; I always knew they were good ponies. They deserved more than… this.”
The words did not help Scootaloo at all. Scootaloo spoke as she wiped more tears off of her face, “I-I-I-I just w-want them to be h-here again…”
The mare standing behind her sighed, before visibly straightening her posture. She patted Scootaloo on that back and assured her of a brighter future, “Look on the brightside, kid. It can’t get any possibly worse, you’ll just be shipped off to an orphanage is all.”
The news shocked Scootaloo. She swerved her head to face the mare. Her expression was colored a passionate mix of gloom and despair.
“A-an orphanage?”
The mare shrugged and patted Scootaloo on her head. She was visibly disgusted for a moment after touching Scootaloo’s unkempt mane but she faked a smile as she wiped her hoof on one of the gravestones.
“Sorry, kid, but seeing that I am you’re only surviving family and I can’t really take care of a kid right now because I don’t want you, you’ll have to go.” She gave her a fake smile that politicians could admire as she waited for a response. Receiving none, she rolled her eyes before leaving Scootaloo with one last reassurance.
“Like I said, kid. It can’t get any worse.”
Scootaloo walked down a sidewalk. A light drizzle of rain showered her from above. She sighed as she stepped through another puddle that muddied her fur. She reminisced in happy times of her parents and her.
Flashes of a scooter, her riding it for the first time, and the glee on her innocent face as her father rubbed her mane with congratulations.
Her mother stroking the fur on her back as Scootaloo laid in her lap during the late nights. The pettings inciting cat-esque purrs from the happy filly.
Scootaloo stopped in front of a small cottage. The cottage being newly refurbished, one new feature being the ‘for sale’ sign in the front yard. She wiped her face off with one of her hooves. It left behind a dirt smudge as the indiscriminate mixture of tears and rain was cleared away.
She felt another surge of sadness ready to rise as she approached the decorated oak door. She twisted the knob and let herself in to her old house. Inside, it was empty of most furnishing as all of her personal belongings and all those of her parents that were removed by a contractor to sell and then donate the proceeds to a local orphanage.
Since Scootaloo had no furniture to rest on or any items of emotional significance to hold, she curled up alone in front of the door. She wrapped her tail around her body and held it with her hooves. She cried into her rose-colored tail for what it seemed like forever to her until a small beep popped the balloon that was her sadness.
She lifted her head up to find the source and found a small landline phone sitting on the ground where their old coffee table used to sit. Crawling over to it and into the living room, she watched the red indicator on the phone as it blinked.
Hope surged through her veins as she reached towards the phone, desperate to hear the sounds of her parents voice once again. A small smile crossed her face as she lifted it up and prodded the voicemail button with a hoof.
Scootaloo almost cried another time, but instead of sadness, of joy; however, it was short-lived as an unfamiliar stallion’s voice came out the speaker instead.
“Hey there, errr… Scotc- uh, Scata… wait that’s not right… Scooter? Yeah, Scooter, we’ll be there tomorrow to pick you up from your house. Everything has been cleared legally and all that jazz, but don’t worry about anything; we have a nice bed over here calling for you! I mean, you’ll be sharing it with two other ponies, but it’s something. See you soon!”
Scootaloo sniffled as her last hope was dashed. She was about to place the phone back on its holder as a new source of hope rose. She shoved the phone up to her ear so she wouldn’t miss any more of the message that was playing.
“-errr, Scooter? Yeah, almost forgot. Make sure to drink some water before we show up. We don’t really have the money to hoof out water bottles willy nilly and I know you must be pretty dehydrated from all the crying. Actually, we might just bring some empty bottles to fill up at your place. Anyways, it’s a long trip to Manehattan sooo… yeah. See you in the morning, Scooter.”
Scootaloo’s lip quivered as she dropped the phone on the ground. She rolled back onto her side and laid her face on the bare carpet. With every sliver of hope thrown out the door like a public disturbance, her mind dwelled in perpetual emotional pain.
Everything will be okay…
She shivered as the cool night air chilled her to the bone. With no blankets or a heater, she was forced to suffer.
Everything will be okay in the morning…
Her eyes shot open as a new realization washed over her.
I’ll have no friends there. Everything I know will be gone. Everything I’ve worked towards.
She lifted her head up off the ground.
Why did they have to die? W-why couldn’t it have just been me?
She sniffled as she lifted herself up and started pacing the room.
I just wanted to go to that store and get some cookies. They wouldn’t turn around…
She let out a wail before stumbling. She caught herself and glanced at the entrance to the next room.
How can I stop this pain? I just want to sleep peacefully...
Scootaloo balanced on the chair as she gave the makeshift noose a strong pull with her hoof. Since it didn’t snap, she calmly placed it around her neck. Determined and broken, she couldn’t think of another way to end the pain she felt.
She recounted how she searched the entire house for some rope but was only able to find a few rolls of the cheap toilet paper normally found in schools. It seemed like the orphanages had no use for it. Regardless, she used the toilet paper and wrapped it around itself to create a sort of makeshift rope that seemed to barely hold together.
Maybe I’ll see my parents up there…
Scootaloo released a breath that she didn’t know she was holding and lowered her gaze to the ground. The phone she’d been using earlier ringed.
They aren’t going to take me.
Her heart started to pound as she leaned forward, trying to gather the courage to push herself the rest of the way.
Can’t I just do one thing right?
The phone stopped ringing and a familiar voice spoke up as the caller left a message.
“Hey, it’s Rainbow Dash! Just calling to see if you’re doing alright, Scoots.”
Scootaloo’s head shot up as she joyfully yelled, “Rainbow Dash!”
She couldn’t help but smile as she jumped off the chair to answer the phone; however, before she landed, her head snapped back as the noose stopped her. Her body swung back and knocked over the chair that had been holding her up. She let out a muffled scream as it pressed up against her neck and cut off her air flow.
“Well, since you can’t come to the phone right now, I’ll just make this short and sweet,” Rainbow Dash continued.
Scootaloo’s lungs begged for air as she whimpered. Her hooves worked at ripping the toilet paper noose, but alas, her efforts were futile as she continued to choke on the surprisingly well-crafted noose.
“I’m going to adopt you!” Dash said with all the pride she could muster. “I’ll be there tomorrow, no worrying about going to an orphanage, you hear me?”
A single tear rolled down Scootaloo’s face. The color of the fur on her head took on a slight blue hue.
Wait… please.
Her body gasped for air but found no relief as her vision faded to black.
I’m sorry…
“Hey, it’s Scootaloo! Sorry if I can’t make it to the phone right now, I might be off skating around town! Leave a message if you dare!”
Sweetie Belle glanced at her phone’s screen as she spoke to herself with a puzzled look painted on her face. “Why isn’t she picking up? And why haven’t I seen her around town today?”
She punched Scootaloo’s number into the phone again for what seemed like the millionth time. She’s not sure how many times she has done it, but she was getting more and more worried each time she reached Scootaloo’s voicemail.
Sweetie lifted the phone back up and waited through the rings, hoping for Scootaloo to finally answer. She put the phone down as the same voicemail message played itself over again. She waited a few moments before lifting it back up.
“Beep”
Her voice was tinged with worry as she left Scootaloo a final voicemail, “Umm- hey Scootaloo, it’s Sweetie Belle. Well- I’m not sure how many of these I’ve left, but I’m just gonna come over to your house to play this time. Guessing you’ll poke fun at me at how many messages I’ve left once I show up… heh... “
She paused for a moment before finishing, “I’ll see you in a bit, Scootaloo.”
Sweetie Belle stood in front of Scootaloo’s house. Seeing no lights on inside, she approached the door and rapped her hoof against it.
She waited but was not met with the expected sound of Scootaloo rushing through her house and bumping against the walls. Disturbed by the silence, Sweetie tested the door. It was unlocked despite the morning sun being barely above the forested horizon.
“Anypony in here?” She asked to noone in particular as she opened and stepped through the door. She felt the fur on the back of her neck twitch as she sensed something was wrong. Sweetie turned to walk into the living room.
“Hello, Scoo-”
Sweetie Belle’s mouth hung limp as he spotted her friend’s body swaying side-to-side. She took a step forward as her face paled.
“S-scootaloo?” she muttered before she felt light headed and fell to the ground. Silent sobbs wracked her body as she mourned the loss of her friend. Peering up at her friend another time, she spotted a small phone on the ground as well as the phone’s indicator blinking.
Crawling over to it, she pressed the voicemail button…
Author's Note
Well, if you thought they story was too stupidly sad for it's own good, look at the cover art.
This is totally not a parody... AT ALL.
