Carnificina

The next day found itself peeping through the shutters of the second story window. Routine demanded that she lift her head from her pillow and stretch her sore limbs, stifling a yawn. To her, the day seemed dull and bleak, and she could see no way of getting out of truancy for a second time. Her only other option was to attend school and face the classroom full of ponies. A fearful thought ran through her mind.

‘The scars! If anypony sees them they’ll think I’m a freak. Well, I am a freak. I just don’t want anypony to laugh about it. They’ll probably avoid me for the rest of my life.’

She would have to be careful if she wanted to keep it secret, and that wouldn’t be easy considering how nosy everypony can get in this town. It was likely that if one pony found out about it, let her alone her whole class, the rest of the town would know by the next morning. And then she would be shunned by any and everypony. Scootaloo didn’t mind solitude, when it wasn’t cruel to her, but she didn’t think she could handle isolation.

‘That’s completely different,’ she assured herself

Moving into the kitchen, she quickly threw together her unimaginative breakfast – two slices of bread and some wild daisy she had found in the refrigerator – and grabbed her saddlebags which had still been slumped beside the lounging chair in the living room from two days before. She didn’t bother making a lunch as she walked out the door. She probably wouldn’t have eaten it anyway.

Approximately half an hour past the time class had started, Scootaloo ambled in the door, having taken her time getting there. Cherilee shot her an annoyed glance, but said nothing as she took her seat. Whispering passed back and forth between the pupils, until finally the already distracted teacher was forced to interrupt.

“Is anypony listening to me, or is everyone going to just fail the surprise test tomorrow?”

A tense silence cracked into the room. Cherilee smiled, knowing her words had precisely the impact she had intended them to. Several squeaks from desks and nervous coughs echoed before she continued on with the lesson.

“Right. Now, can anypony tell me who the 54th mayor of Ponyville was?”

But Scootaloo had already lost focused, and instead concerned herself with hiding her face, and most importantly, the backside of her forehooves. She wanted to be anywhere but there, though she knew her absence would not go unnoticed.

As the morning dragged on, the poor orange filly’s thoughts grew darker. Her emotions transcended. Pity and regret clouded her mind.

“And that, fillies and colts, concludes this morning’s lesson. You may break for recess and lunch. Be back in an hour!”

Students began to file out of the classroom, eager to be out in the afternoon sun to play with their friends and enjoy their lunch while talking about their exploits in the hours after school. They talked like foals in their innocent way. They cared for trivial things; who could run farther, who could jump higher. They begged for attention from their peers, but looked with a condescending eye at those they deemed lower than themselves. They jested and they taunted, caring little for the consequences of their words. And in their naïve way, all was right with their world.

Scootaloo was the last to leave the room, but made sure to avoid the teacher who, thankfully, had busied herself with cleaning the chalkboard. The sun outside was pale and stagnant, lingering over her as she found herself a seat next to a shaded oak in the far reaches of the playground. Even though she could no longer see it, she knew it was there.

She hoped nopony would bother her. Right now all she wanted was to be left alone. Though she was sure that nopony wanted anything to do with her anyhow.

But her wishes today, it seemed, were not to be adhered. Not ten minutes passed before a familiar voice filled her ears.

“Look! Ah told yah she’d be around here somewhere. “

A yellow filly with a short red mane complete with pink bow came bounding around the side of the tree, followed by the pink-and-blue maned white unicorn. They sat down comfortably with their lunches around Scootaloo, who had tucked her forehooves underneath her in the meantime.

“So what happened yesterday, Scootaloo? You weren’t at school…” Sweetie Belle squeaked.

“Oh, um…I, uh…wasn’t feeling good yesterday.” Scootaloo hated lying, least of all to her friends, but did she really have a choice?

“Sounds’ Resenabl’, ah S’pose.” Nodded Applebloom.

Relieved, Scootaloo leaned back. The other two had started a conversation about crusading they were planning for later that week, but she didn’t care. She’d think about it more when the time came. Maybe she could use the time with her friends.

Suddenly, Sweetie Belle seemed visibly disturbed, a look of concern written across her face.

“Say Scootaloo, how come you don’t have a lunch with you today?” She inquired.

“Uh, I’m not really hungry,” was Scootaloo’s attempted response, though the audible growl of her stomach betrayed the truth.

Sweetie Belle smiled comfortably, and reached out with a half of her own sandwhich.

“Here, have some of mine!”

“Uh, I….Oh, alright. I guess I am a little hungry”

For a brief second Sweetie Belle began to giggle, but all in an instant stopped as it was replaced with a sharp gasp.

Without thinking, Scootaloo had reached out for the offered food and exposed the underside of her forehoof, revealing the scars of her pain for all to see. Especially the two fillies sitting beside and across from her.

Nothing was said. That silence was the worst Scootaloo ever went through. For a long time nothing happened save for Scootaloo’s sharp, nervous breaths and Sweetie Belle’s wide eyes. Applebloom glanced frantically between both, unsure of how to act.

Slowly, Sweetie Belle rose to her hooves, and in an instant, bolted in the other direction. The orange filly could see in the distance the whispered conversation between her and their Teacher, and she could almost make out Cherilee’s expression change when Sweetie Belle finished. As the purple mare turned to trot in her direction, fear filled Scootaloo’s heart, and a lump began to form in her throat. This was it. Now everypony would know.

‘Great. Now not only does one of my friends hate me now, but the entire town is going to know I’m a freak.’

Applebloom began to get visibly nervous, edging her way around the tree, until she got clear and quickly trotted away.

‘Hmph. Make that two friends that hate me. I deserve these scars, deserve this hurt. I just wish I could go and hide somewhere.’

She remained rooted to the spot, nearing her fate and the inevitable event that was about to take place.

It felt like it took an eternity for Cherilee to cross the distance between the Schoolhouse and Scootaloo’s tree, but finally, it ended. She wasted no time, and with a surprising firmness, grasped the filly’s hoof and brought it up to her level. Gazing up and down the scars, she contemplated for a moment before speaking with a surprisingly dominant voice tinted with care.

“What is this?”

Frightened, the filly was at a loss for words, but attempted to sputter anyhow,

“I-“  But she trailed off…

“Scootaloo, tell me now. Did you do this to yourself?”

Scootaloo could only bite her lip and nod, tears forming around her eyes.

The abrasiveness in Cherilee’s face dissipated, and replaced with an expression that reflected either sympathy or pity. The younger pony couldn’t tell. All she knew was that she was now being led back into the empty schoolhouse, and being told to sit down. She didn’t know what was going to happen.

But she longed for so long to let it out. Perhaps her teacher, of all ponies, could understand.

So Scootaloo told everything. The neglect from her parents that she had felt for so long. The embarrassment and shame from her inability to fly. How she felt that no one knew who she was. The feelings she felt; depression, guilt, agony. And finally, how they had led to the events of a few nights ago. She hadn’t intended to say so much, to completely spill all of her burdens onto her teacher, but she had.

Cherilee bore through it all, hearing every word. She nodded and smiled to the retelling of yesterday’s foray into the woods, but remained grim during the part related to the scars. She comforted the filly when it came to her thoughts, and reassured her that the town would not, in fact, hate her. Her eyes were filled with understanding.

In the end, after Scootaloo had let everything out and relinquished a deep sigh, the purple mare drew her in to a tight embrace. The filly cried out all her pain while her teacher held her close to her heart and whispered her care.

At last she pulled away and looked into her student’s eyes, pausing for a moment before speaking.

“Why...why didn’t you come to anypony?”

Scootaloo just shook her head as a tear fell down her cheek. The truth was she didn’t feel she could tell anypony, but to say so would be hurtful.

Wiping the tear away with a hoof, Cherilee smiled warmly. At that instant, Scootaloo felt loved.

“I’m here for you, Scootaloo, and I won’t leave you alone. You and I are going to get through this together. Until your parents get back you can stay with me. I care about you as I care about all of my students, and I’m not going to let you suffer. Do you understand?”

Hiccupping, Scootaloo smiled genuinely.

“Yes, Miss Cherilee. That would be nice.”