Last Wishes

by Karatekidzz

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Slice of Life
Length: 5916

Scootaloo is hit with bad news that changes her life forever.

Scootaloo is told the worst news possible: You're going to die. But her life isn't over yet.

This story follows Scootaloo's last month on Equestria.

WARNING: Strong language and themes

Updates are coming. College is just getting in the way.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-01-18 21:09:57 UTC

White Rooms and Dark News

"I don't want to die," a small, orange Pegasus says from within a dark sleep. She convulses with pain, her eyes flickering with fear.

The nurse, standing by the Pegasus' bed, feeds more drugs down the tube and watches as the orange pony slows her movements.

"You'll make it, Scootaloo," the nurse whispers before heading back out the room and to her other patients.

1 MONTH EARLIER

"Ready?"

"Actually AB, I don't feel right, just give me a sec."

"What's wrong?"

"I... can't see."

"Let's get you off the roof."

"Sweetie Belle! Ah can't take all 'er weight, pull her with yer magic."

"I'm trying! I'm not good with magic."

"Scootaloo!"

"Scootaloo?"

"I'll get Twilight!"

"Scootaloo? Oh dear."

"Stay with me. Please?"

"Girls? What's-"

Ouch! Ow! Why does my head hurt so much?! It feels like a million fire ants just made my brain their next feast. What crazy thing did I do now?

Oh wait, I know: I fell off a roof. Good one Scootaloo. You're such a smart pony. You could have -I don't know- done something cool? But no, that's not how we roll, we don't do cool stuff, we just act like it, get hurt and pretend it was super cool. And today is no different.

However, I was the one to suggest base jumping as our next crusade so I'm the only one to blame really. I'm not sure where the idea came from; it definitely didn't come from a sane portion of my brain so maybe it's from the section where I hold crushed dreams and false realities. Or, like always, I was thinking about Rainbow Dash. Maybe I was thinking 'Rainbow Dash jumping off a roof is cool!' and turned it into 'Scootaloo jumping off a roof is cool!'.

It does sound like me.

And I really need to get my head checked out.

But less fantasy, more reality. Where the fuck am I? My eyes open. Bleach white walls with painted animals -- Yay! The kid's ward. Even after the years between now and my last visit, I'm still a little foul in society's eyes. But they've upgraded the curtains; only some mould now. But most of the room is bare, just standard medical equipment here and there.

But I'm more interested in what damage falling off a roof caused. From the first glance down my body, I can only see bruises and cuts. Not too bad Scootaloo, you'll live to see another day.

But that doesn't explain my head.

Lifting a hoof up, I carefully touch my aching head. Bandages. Ok, that's not too bad. I can live with a sore head for a while, I've had worse from my dad- nope, we put that behind us, remember? Anyway. So, bruises and a bandage, why am I here? I'm fine. Probably just another doctor being stupidly careful and keeping ponies in longer than they should.

I start to lift myself from the bed when I hear voices coming closer to my room. I didn't want to get up anyway.

A pony knocks and the door opens. From the light of the corridor I see a small pony begin to enter slowly. As her eyes adjusts to the dim light she flinches.

"Oh! Sorry if I disturbed you... Um, I'm here to change your bandages!" She smiles, steps into the room fully and closes the door behind herself. Her magic grasps the handle of a nearby table, pulling the draw open, to reveal a row of whites bandages. She takes one and stands by the side of my bed.

"Go ahead, I was awake anyway," I say. She hovers the fresh bandage in the air and begins to unclip the one on my head with her teeth. I feel my head begin to reshape as the pressure of the cloth lessens.

"If you could just move your head forward, please," she asks. I move my head but pain ripples through me. I shudder. She backs off and the pain lessens. "Are you OK?! Did I hurt you, Dear?"

"No... no. I'm good," I say, recomposing myself. She moves her head back down-slower this time-and unclasps the pins on the back of my head. The bandage begins to fall away and I feel no pain this time. The nurse picks it up in her magic and throws it in a bin behind her. A glimpse of red peaks through at me.

"Sorry about that. Anyway, how are you feeling?" the nurse asks. Good question. Let's see: pain, blood loss (if that bandage was anything to go by) and fear of being in a hospital. You know? I feel swell.

"I've been through worse. No biggie." Hospitals -and the staff working within them- are annoying as hell; I don't plan on staying here long. Therefore, I shall lie to them so they can send me home and I can handle this myself. Like always. I just hope this hasn't made me miss any Crusader meetings.

"Nurse?" She looks up from the fresh bandage on the table, "What time is it?" I'm hoping it's been less than a day. Really can't be asked for this to be something serious.

She places the fresh bandage atop my head. "It's about 9 o'clock, dear."

"So twelve hours, yeah?" They'll probably make me the stay the night if it's that late now. But that's no problem; I can wait a little longer. And no one will bother me now they now I'm not blacked out like some coma patient.

"Oh, no, 36 hours, Dear. That's why I was so shocked to see you awake! The Doctor said you'd be out for awhile so we were thinking you were asleep." She looks at me and smiles, seeing my discomfort. How was I out that long? "Don't be alarmed, it's just your body healing itself."

"For that long?!" What's wrong with me then?

"Oh, I'm sorry. It is a little hard to take in the first time but the Doctor will explain it all. I know you have questions."

"Yeah, you bet," I mutter. The nurse finishes wrapping the bandage and shuts the draw.

"I'll tell the Doctor you're awake. He'll be in soon." She walks back to the door and leaves silently.

I sit facing the black wall, my face emotionless. I love hospitals. Just what I wanted to hear today. Or yesterday. Fuck. Whatever day it is. Even though she didn't say there was something wrong with me we both knew there is. And the Doctor will grace me with the good news soon. Probably have to take drugs or something. Uh.

I sigh deeply when a light twinkles from outside the window. I turn my head and through the curtains I see darting specs of light. I climb from the bed, land on the floor and walk to the window. I open the curtain.

I see the little darting lights and watch them. There's only a handful of them but they dance with each other forming little patterns in Luna's night. They start to dance lower and illuminate long blades of grass which they dance between. Sometime they just stay still and can see a small pond which the grass sits in. And within that I can see large fish swim. The hospital -already dark- fades from my vision and I feel content for the moment to just watch the small patch of nature in the courtyard.

But it doesn't last long. I knock comes from my door and it can only be one pony. I turn around and return to my bed as the doctor enters. "Evening, Scootaloo. Feeling OK?" He stands at the foot of my bed and begins to levitate a clipboard. I make myself comfortable on the bed.

"Yep, I'm feeling good, doc," I say. He mulls over the paper with quiet 'hmm's filling the air.

"Ah, yes, I remember your case now. Pretty serious. Are you sure you're not in any pain, Scootaloo? You took a hard hit off the roof and actually needed immediate surgery for bleeding in the brain." Ouch, that would of hurt. Wait. That was me. Fuck. Good job, Scootaloo.  Started bleeding in your brain. Probably even dumber than before now.

"Eh, it hurt when the nurse took the bandage off-"

"Yes, she told me."

"-but I've felt fine since. You've got a nice pond out the window, by the way."

He looks out the open curtain. "Oh, yes. It's a memorial to one of the doctors. Passed away last year and built it in his memory. Anyway, we've got more pressing issues to attend to." Sadly. "The nurse told me you were a little shocked at hearing how long you were out."

"Yeah! What's up with that?! Why was i out that long?" I ask.

"Just a natural reaction is all. Sometimes the body goes into a coma if enough damage is taken to the brain but as you can see-" points to my intact body "-you're fine. We didn't even need to help out in that sense. You did it by yourself. But... I have some bad news." I sigh. They always seem to get caught up on the whole next of kin nonsense. Each time they ask me I have to say I live alone and they talk to me, see if I'm OK and I have to say over and over that yes, I'm fine; I just don't live with my parents.

"Yes, I don't live my parents. I've been told before."

"No. That's not it. And we know that now. Our records were updated. But what I wanted to say was we found something on the X-ray." Shit. My breathing quickens.

"Something good I hope?" This... please don't.

"No, sorry. I wish it was." He looks down, taking a deep breath in and out. "We found tumours. Big ones. They caused your vision to blur yesterday and I'm sure you've felt the other side effects. Lack of growth? Hair loss?" I nod my head lamely. "Sorry."

"But you've got drugs for it, right?" I beg.

"Well... yes. But nothing for the tumours. Only the side effects. We can't stop them and they'll only get bigger. At some point -hopefully not soon- they will be so big that... well, they'll stop blood flow into your brain. Starving it of oxygen. And that of course means..." he leaves the sentence open because we both know what it means.

"I'm... going to die?" I ask quiety, wanting closure.

"Yes. I'm sorry." Like a switch my body turns off becoming cold and numb. "The drugs will help though."

Tears begin to flow down my face. My breathing -already fast- becomes faster. My heart thunders in vacant ears. The room around me becomes a blur.

This is it then. Scootaloo -0- World -1. I'll die. Forgotten. No-one will miss me. No-one loves me now and no-one will love a corpse in a ground. But that's fine: my life was worthless anyway. Maybe hell will be nice.

"Scootaloo?" the doctor says. I only move my eyes to look at him. "You can talk about it. To me or any of the other professionals."

"Just leave me alone, please," I say.

"Oh. Of course, I'll let you get some rest. Your friends" -I turn away from him and the blanket over myslelf- "can see you tomorrow." He continues to look at me with sadness in his eyes but eventually exits the room, leaving me alone. Better get used to it cause you're about to be alone forever.

Like most nights, I cry myself to sleep.

Crash!

"Look at what you made me do! You useless bitch!" Slap.

Just pretend you don't hear them, Scootaloo. They love each other. Your family is fine. Nothing to worry about. Don't cry. They're not fighting. They're just talking really loudly, while crying as bones snap. Fine. You're fine. They're fine.

Blood falls onto the floor. "Please."

"Is the little princess begging now? Can't take her punishment? You. Are. Weak! You are nothing! Get hit a few times and you cry like a little newborn foal," he crouches down, "I can't believe how pathetic you are. Eight years in the army; I didn't cry once. And then we have you," punch, "a few punches and," kick, "kicks, and you're done. Cowering like the enemy. I can't bear to look at your face."

My mum lies there. Almost lifeless. She's taken beatings before but... not this bad. I taste salt on my tongue as the cascade of tears splutter into my mouth. Looking at her hurts me. No longer can I see her beautiful coat or soft mane, now all I see is the crimson red of her blood, my father standing over her like prey in a lion's lair.

But she'll get up, she always does. She'll tell me how strong I've been, how proud she is, how much she loves me. This won't be the last of her. Nothing my father does will stop her, she's better than that.

But looking at the mess before me, I can only wish it was my mum.

And not myself.

"Ah!" Jolting awake, I feel my heart and lungs as they burn in my chest. My racing mind looks for dangers but only sees a dark room. I start to remember the day before; the news I got. It comes back to me and I struggle to hold back the tears. But as I begin to slow my breathing down, so does my mind. My emotions slip off me like I'm poison, leaving a hollow shell.

Before, when I would be omitted to hospital, I stayed in a ward. It was for fillies like myself -suspected of being abused but with no proof. I kept having that nightmare. Kept screaming in the night. But the other fillies, already going through it themselves, would comfort me. They may have been awake with their own problems but they would talk to me. When they were scared, I would talk to them. It didn't change anything important but it made us feel less helpless and alone. But they never stayed: they were always in more pain and sooner or later their pain became too much -or they were beaten too hard. They never came to the ward again, probably dead. But I liked to think they were helped, taken to somewhere better. Happy.

But once they were all gone I was left alone.

And lying in this bed, with no-one around to help, I feel more lonely than ever. Maybe the other fillies would help but I doubt it. I'm always left alone; left alone to deal with my problems. And I can't tell my friends because they'll only cry and I'd have to comfort them.

So I just lie back down, loneliness ebbing at my heart and one thought on my mind.

Does anyone love me?

I begin to hear movement from around my room -ponies walking, trollies moving- and I wake from my sleep. I wipe away my dried tears and stretch out my muscles feeling the release of tension. I sit up, still tired but with that blissful morning amnesia where you can't remember anything from the night before. I look around the room -now in the light- and just look at the small details, passing the time.

There's a knock at the door and the nurse from earlier walks in. She closes the door behind her. "Early riser?' she asks, walking to the window.

"No, just woke up." She pulls the curtains to the edge of the window and ties them with small bits of fabric.

"Well, breakfast will be served soon. We'll bring it to your room for you." I reply with a small mumble of recognition and she walks to the side of my bed. "I can take your bandage off now, you'll pleased to know." She bends down and picks the clasps out of my bandage.

"So I'm going home today?" I ask.

"Mmm-Hmm," she says through the clips in her mouth. She sets them down on the medical trolly. "We just phoned some of your emergency contacts; they'll be here after breakfast to take you home. Applejack and Rarity?"

"Yeah, they're my friends' sisters."

"Good. We told them about what happened and your condition," she says, turning around and putting the bandage in the bin.

"You told them?!" I say. She turns back around, surprised.

"Of course! It's hospital policy, dear. We can't let you leave and have no-one know what's going on. I'm sorry it upset you." I calm myself -breathe in, breathe out. I guess it's not too bad. Yes, I wanted no-one to know so it was easier but I can handle two people knowing.

And it won't be for long.

"No, it's OK," I say quietly. She looks at me with a sad smile. I sigh and look away.

"I'll get your breakfast." She leaves the room.

What will AJ and Rarity say? They'll probably feel like being my mother figures (thanks to them finding out about my parents) and smother me and make things worse. Living alone kind of gives you a different view of the world. But it's a stronger one where you yourself is stronger. And I don't need others helping me now; I'm happy being alone. I think. Fuck, my brain never feels like giving me a straight answer. It's over thinking things, caring too much or not caring at all.

The door opens to a new nurse with a trolly outside the door. "Grubs up!" he says with enthusiasm. I mock him internally; no-one can be that happy.

"Thanks." I force a smile. He picks up the tray in his mouth and walks over, placing it on my lap. It looks lifeless. Grey. "Thanks again," I say, sarcasm slowly dripping into my voice from the over extension of having to fake emotions.

"You're welcome! I hope you enjoy!" I flash a smile as he turns round and walks out the door. At last, I'm back into solitude where I don't have to pretend or be bothered by others. I try to eat what's in front of me. I find that the taste is better than its looks -also better than my own cooking. I eat most of it, not feeling overly hungry and place it on the table by my bed.

I get up and walk over to the window like the night before. I can't see any wildlife, only the long grass. The other wing of the hospital looms over the back of the pond. I can see ponies walking past the windows and outlines of patients sitting in their beds. I rest my head on the window-ledge and just stare out the window.

"We're here for Scootaloo. Could you point us to her room, please?" I hear Rarity's muffled voice through the wall. I walk back to the bed and brace myself.

"This way, please." The clip-clop of hooves become louder and the door is opened. Rarity and Applejack walk in.

"Howdy, Scootaloo!"

"Morning, Scootaloo!"

Their greetings over, I set off from the bed, the two of them standing in front of me. "We can go home, right?" I ask them.

"'Course. Me and Rare will take you home and Sweetie Belle an' Apple Bloom can come over later. They got the afternoon off," Applejack says. I smile at that, if only small.

"Great!"

"We've just got to go get your medication and then we'll head off, dear," Rarity says.  She opens the door and we head out into the corridor. We pick up the medication, say goodbye to the nurse and doctor who looked after me and start to walk down the streets of Ponyville.

"So you guys know about what's going on?" I more state than ask. I know the answer anyway. I lower my head away from their glances.

"Yes. We had our sisters running up to us first, barely making sense. Then we had the hospital phone us and tell us what our sisters didn't tell us," Rarity says from my left.

"They told us 'bout the tumours, Scootaloo," Applejack adds. "We're real sorry. We would never want this fer you," she says sincerely. I can see they're pained but they're trying to do the adult thing and hide it so that I feel better; their faces stay neutral but the corners of their mouths are pulled slightly downwards.

"Thanks. Just... please don't tell anypony," I say. "I don't want everyone in Ponyville feeling sorry for me."

"We won't, Scootaloo. You're what's important now. We just want you to feel happy," Rarity says.

"How am I meant to be happy?!" I blurt out. I look at their faces, begging, almost like I expect an answer but I know they don't know it. They're being annoying already, like I knew they would. They just don't understand! No-one ever has. Even if I smile it never lasts; my mind just goes back to black. Sweetie and Apple Bloom can make me happy but they're distractions. They just don't know how I feel.

They look stunned. "We... don't know," Rarity begins. "But I don't think anyone knows the answer. You have to make your own happiness."

"How does that help?" I ask.

"The world is what you make it, Scootaloo. You can let it beat you or you can beat it," Rarity says.

"But it has beat me!" I say.

"No it hasn't!" Applejack says. "Ah know the feeling, Scootaloo; Ah had something terrible happen to me once but you can't let it beat you," she says.

"I know about your parents, Applejack! But it's different!" I say, my chin wobbling.

"How?" Applejack asks.

"You're still alive!" I shout. "I'm not!" Ponies begin to look in our direction. I keep my head down and walk ahead of the two of them. My vision is blurry but I keep walking towards my house.

The streets become quieter and Rarity and Applejack catch up with me. "Scootaloo, slow down," Applejack says. Still angry, I do as she asks. "Ah'm sorry."

"That's..." I catch my breath, "OK. I'm sorry, I just don't know what to do. Or feel. I'm just angry but I don't know what at," I say. "I just want to be normal, I guess."

"We understand where you're coming from, darling," Rarity says. "We just want to help is all. We just don't know how."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry for snapping," I say, wiping my eyes of tears.

"We don't blame yer," Applejack says.

"We know it's hard." My house comes into view and I smile: no more annoying maternal figures. We walk the rest of the way in silence, a sort of understanding forming between everyone at last.

"Thanks for walking me, guys. Just between us, right?" I ask again.

"Between us," Rarity says.

"We'll come visit you to make sure yer're OK, though," Applejack states.

"I understand" -even if I don't want it- "I'll see yer." I open my door and head inside. I watch out the lounge window Rarity and Applejack walk away, talking amongst themselves.

If Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle are coming round for the afternoon then I've got a couple of hours to spare. I waste time making food, reading and taking a bath. When they get here my mind is taken off of my problems for a short while. We have fun, we talk but they never bring up the tumours; I don't know if they don't know or just don't want to remind but it's a much needed break. But the fun ends: they leave, the sun low, and I'm left to myself again.

I take a midnight walk before going to bed and have a dreamless sleep.

Release

"Errr. Go away sun!" I grumble for the fourteenth time, waving my hoof in a blind effort to knock the burning beams of light out of my eyes. I could just get up and just close the curtains -alleviating the problem- but that would mean getting out of bed, which I could find no incentive to do. I leave the sun in my eyes. I turn. I pull the covers over my head. But none of it works.

"You win," I mutter. Defeated, I half roll, half fall out of bed and open my room's door and head into the hallway. Yawning, I stumble down the corridor with hazy eyes. Like normal, the floorboards creek under me and echo through the silent house. The house is probably falling apart, to be honest, but there's not much I can do. I'm not able to work and doing tricks on a Scooter hasn't made a profit so far.

I leave the disrepair of the house to future Scootaloo and open the bathroom door, walking in and turning the shower on. Nature calls and I rid the weight on my bladder. I step into the shower. "Ahh," I sigh in content. The warm water washes over me, weaving between my fur and warming my skin. Slowly, my mind awakens, followed shortly by my eyes.

I pause.

What am I doing here?

The news of yesterday fills my mind. Anxiety fills my chest. What's the point?, I begin to ask myself. I've asked myself that same question countless times before but could always find a lame excuse of an answer. Saying I was still alive would normally be enough to get me through a day but... There's nothing to live for anymore.

There is no point.

Maybe. Maybe the point to life is just... life. You're born and you die. I mean, we are only DNA passed through each generation. Maybe we just overthink? Too intelligent for our own good. It'd make sense.

And on top of that we're given emotions. Why can't we just be happy and that's it? No need for feeling shit about yourself or hating the world. But emotions are what make us ponies, make us more than just every other animal. Without them we wouldn't be the same. But I think, for just once, I'd like to not feel anything at all.

I turn the shower off and step out. Using my towel, I dry myself.

Heading back into my room, I walk to the window to shut the curtains but see two awfully familiar fillies walking towards my house.

"School."

Bunking would be great right now; no school means no one would bother me. But, thanks to a recent conversation with Miss Cheerilee,  my attendance is at an all-time-low. Now, thanks to the school's "caring" attitude, they've threatened to suspend me from school.

I dump the towel on my bed, adding to the mess, and rush down the stairs. I stuff food, drink and school supplies into my bag and grab my scooter as the door knocks.

"Morning!"

"So, you see, there is no point!" I say, panting slightly after trying to explain my jumbled thoughts. My friends look at me, confusion in one and bemusement in the other. I'm not sure why I needed to share my thoughts; I think some part of me wanted to be understood. But so far, I'm doing the complete opposite.

"When did you get all phil-philo..."

"Philosophical," I help.

"Yeah, Philosophical. When did you get all like that?" Apple Bloom asks. We had just stepped out of Sugercube Corner for our breakfast and were finally on our way to school. And no, it's not healthy but it sure is nice.

My friends, throughout my rambling, listened but there was a lack of understanding. They were asking tons of questions because -I assume- they had never thought of this stuff.

"I don't know. I just kinda always think it, you know?" I reply.

"But there has to be a point!" Sweetie says. Her brows are knitted together in thought, her eyes staring at me in desperation. I suppose telling her something like this might not have been the best idea; she had never been one for things like this.

"Ah think there is, Sweetie. Don't worry."

"Well... maybe there is. But what if we're just too smart for our own good? What if we over think?" I say. Although slightly mean to push Sweetie's mind so far, I like these topics. Probably in a selfish way, it makes me feel better than others.

"No! There is a point!" Sweetie exclaims. She snaps her gaze forward and doesn't look at me.

"Well, that's pretty int'resting but here's a question for yer: are you scared of death?"

"No," I say rather too quickly.

"Really?" Apple Bloom asks, cocking her head sideways.

"Well... maybe. But why should I be? What's the point?" I counter.

"Well, ah don't know the answer to that but surely somethin' keeps you going?"

"Not really. Maybe..." My mind wanders back to when I had parents and before I saw the world for what it really was. Back then I didn't worry about the meaning of life. I just played and had fun. I had a list that I thought I would try and complete. It had stuff like 'get Cutie Mark' and other foulish dreams but I threw it out some time ago, not seeing the point in completing it.

"Love!?" Sweetie blurts out.

"Eh, colts?!" I say, using my premeditated answer.

But my mind slows down and I can't help but think about what she just said. Love: the most powerful emotion of them all. Enough people have said that love is the answer to life but... does someone want to love me? Doubtful.

"Who said colts?" Apple Bloom asked teasingly. Mares? Yes, most of the population are female, making for a rather large population of fillyfoolers, but same again: does someone want to love me?

"No... just no. And I don't think I'm bothered anyway. Plus, you seen anyone who seems bothered about me?" I say, Sweetie looking at something in the distant.

"Fair enough," Apple Bloom says.

The conversation moves off of the subject and soon the school house comes into sight. We walk into the building, take our seats and prepare for the onslaught of boredom.

First period. OK.

Second period. Eh.

Break. "Can we go home yet?"

Third period. "Fuuuuck."

Fourth period. What are you doing here Scootaloo?"

Why should you worry about grades and staying in school when you're going to die?

Lunch. "I'm going home."

"And how yer gonna do that? Yer're already on thin ice with the school," Apple Bloom comments from behind her sandwich.

"Yeah, but I just can't right now." I get up from the bench and start packing my things.

"Where are you going?" Sweetie asks.

"I don't know. I... it's like when someone's just died and you don't want to be around ponies anymore and you just... can't." My saddlebags packed, I start walking away to the gates, giving one last glance back at my friends. I give a small smile.

My friends quickly pack their things and catch up to me.

"You can't just walk home, Scootaloo. You know that. Yer' already close to being suspended. What do you think they'll do when they find out you skipped today?" Apple Bloom asks.

"I know. It doesn't matter."

"Why do you keep saying that?!" Sweetie almost shouts. "You're acting like your whole family's dead or something! Why are you acting like this?" I turn round, next to the fence, and face my friends.

And ouch Sweetie.

"I'm acting like this because..." I struggle for words. I don't want to tell them. "Because... stuff!" I finish lamely, hitting my hoof into the dirt. "I don't want to tell anypony!"

"why not? We're your friends! You can tell us," Sweetie says, moving forward. I move backwards.

I begin quietly, "you shouldn't have to deal with this as well. I... this is my problem and I don't want you to suffer for it."

"Friends are meant to help each other, you dummy, why can't you just tell us?" Apple Bloom says, her eyes caring and warm.

I let a breath out. "I just can't." The bell rings. My friends look behind them, to the school house. "Bye."

With most of the ponies either at school or work, I find the streets of Ponyville relaxingly quiet. The sun shines down on me and the buildings around me. Some birds fly over, giving off calls to each. It's nice, quiet and -most importantly- away from others. I step off my scooter and allow myself to enjoy the scenery.

"Psst," somepony says. I look around me. "Over here." In the direction of the voice, in between two houses, I see the outline of a pony. I step closer and the pony becomes clearer.

"What?" I ask.

"What you doing out of school? You're too young to of graduated," he says. He's a pony maybe a few years older than me. He's wearing a dumb jacket which is way too big for this whether.

"I don't have school today," I say.

"Really? I think you're just bunking. What's the reason then?" He brushes his scraggly black mane out of his eyes.

"Why do you care?" I ask.

"Oh, I don't really. I just know it's hard sometimes. You just want a little break sometimes?" he says. His voice is annoyingly slow and he wears a constant smirk. I grumble a response.

"Well, what if I could help you out?" He reaches into his coat and pulls out a small medical syringe.

"What's that?" I look at it. It contains a small amount of orange liquid. I'm not sure what it is. I park my scooter against the wall and move in closer to inspect.

"This is a little something new from out in Manehatton. They called it something like 'Chemical 2386', but that's just egghead talk. What's actually important is what it does," he says. "Complete bliss. You feeling down? This will take care of it. It's not in the shops yet but I've been asked to hand some of the early stuff out."

"Can I have it?"

"Wow!" He pulls it out of my reach. "Aren't you eager? Yes, you can have it. But for a price."

Well, don't know what money he thinks I have. "Yeah, well I don't have any bits." I turn around and pick up my scooter.

"But you have that."

"This?!" He wants my scooter? "You're not having it!"

"OK. OK. How about a tester then? I'll give you a little bit for free. You like it, you can back for more. Deal?"

I stop and turn back to him. "Free?" I ask.

"Yep. No strings attached."

I hold out my hoof to him. "Deal." He reaches back into his pocket, getting out a syringe with less liquid in it and gives it to me.

"I'll be here when you need me," he says round a smile.

I walk away, wrapping the syringe under my wing and head home.

What have you just done?

He said it would help.

You don't what it is.

I don't really care at this point.

I open my door, walk in, shut it and sit on my couch. I take the syringe from under my wing.

I put it on the table in front of me and stare at it.

Should I do this?

Part of me says no. The other screams YES!

I pick up the needle.