Part One
The sun is bright and cheerful as I listen to the wind brush past my ears; I feel the hard ground underneath my feet as I push off making my scooter move faster. My precious scooter; it’s the closest thing to home I have now, my old life. A tear drips down my face as I remember that day. I recollect a vivid image as I stop to sit and grip my scooter fighting back tears.
Red. That day was very red. Brilliant red flames lit up the debris painted with dark crimson. In a state of shock and fear I find myself traveling deeper into what I had once called my home.
That day was my birthday, I had 8 years old. I just finished the trek back from school to my house on the hill. Rather then being greeted by two smiling faces wishing me a happy birthday I was welcomed to a pile of flames and blood.
I run by singed walls, shattered glass and melted objects to distorted to recognize. I do my best to evade any crumbling chunks of ceiling and patches of fire. I look around for my parents. My breath quickens dew to my fear based paranoia and the suffocating air. I look to the long streaks of blood that mapped out where they were, ending in a large beam from the ceiling. I feel the adrenalin flow through my veins. I gasp for air feeling the hot flames near closer to my face. The cracks in the ceiling get louder and faster. I take one last look at the blood-covered beam then run the opposite direction as fast as I can. Looking back I feel grateful that I didn’t see there dismembered state they would have been in. My heart pounds in my chest as I take the final steps out of my former home.
I look back into the inferno that now consumes my home. I sit down on the soft grass listening to my heartbeat, as I look deep into the fire not knowing what to feel. The adrenalin subsided as I pull my knees to my chest. Suddenly I start quivering then burst into tears, sobbing like the child I was.
They are really gone.
Part Two
I wipe the tears that were welling in my eyes. I almost forgot about the club meeting with my friends that I was going to. I jump up getting on my scooter gently riding down the smooth dirt road. Regardless of my efforts to stop myself from doing so, my mind drift backs to remembering that day.
I finished crying slipping into a state of disbelief to the horrors I just witnessed. I saw their blood they must be dead. I run towards the backyard to convince myself otherwise. They can’t be dead. I run into the yard looking at what would have been my party. Flames inch closer to the table but fall back not being able to stay lit. The remnants of the house continue to burn. A quiet crackling sound can be heard followed by some occasional smash when another beam falls. I look to the yard seeing no sigh of my parents, real tears well up in my eyes again. Then I notice a large wrapped box off to the side. The flames from the house crept towards it threatening to burn it too. I slowly walk towards it feeling myself quiver knowing who it had been from. I look at box where a small card was placed. My attention moves back to the gift. I was fairly poor so each year for my birthday I would only receive one gift, but it was exactly what I wanted every time. I move a shaky hand to the card gently picking it up. It read “To Scootaloo from your loving parents”. The quivering worsens as I read the last word it instantly being distorted because of my tears. I gripped it close to me for a moment then moved onto the gift. My trembling hands ripped the wrapping and opened the box. Enclosed was a brand new scooter, smooth wood base painted blue with red wheels and handlebars. It was not what she had wanted, she wanted her parents back but she knew she wouldn’t be able to have that. Regardless I was still grateful for the last gift I had gotten from them.
Part Three
I stop my scooter by turning it sideways, kicking up a lot of dust in the process. I looked up to my friends. “So did I miss anything, I hope I’m not late” I said with a slight laugh. “Nope, we wouldn’t start without you!” Sweetiebell responded with a squeak. “We were thinking bou’t goin to see Rainbow dash, I bet yew are excited for thayit”. Apple bloom said, knowing how I idolize her. “Oh whatever, lets go already! We can’t keep the most awesomist pony in the ponyville waiting”. I blurted as I lead the way for my friends. “Uh, Scootaloo, Rainbow Dash is this way”. Sweetiebell called. “Oh, right, I knew that”. I said nervously trying to redeem myself, as I ride off. I can't help remembering my first time on my own.
The first few days were the worst, having to get used to the idea that everything you had is gone overnight is hard. Not to mention the painfully ironic concept that you have been looking forward to today for a while now just made things worse. Though I need to remember my priorities, in a way I am a survivor and not taking care of myself from here on out would be the last thing my parents would want.
An hour passed and I find myself starving. A part of me wanted just lie here sobbing as I clutch my new scooter forever, but I knew I couldn't. At the very least I had run out of tears so it felt like a good time to get up. Still in the fuzzy state of confusion and turmoil I try getting my mind somewhat off the idea that my entire life is gone. I think who I might turn to for help.
I live (lived) in a little village where all of the houses are at least 1 to 4 miles apart. Its really quiet and everyone just keeps to themselves. There are the fillies (the 5 of them) from school but nopony really likes me going on the same -keep-to- themselves concept that everypony else in the village goes by, though most of them confuse it with just being narcissistic. I think about anypony else I might be antiquated with. That's it! The old mare who lives in that little house by the lake. She has always been nice to me. sometimes when I get back from school she would sit outside on her porch looking out at the fillies as they pass by her as they go home. I pick up my saddle bag, that still has my homework and other things from school and jump on my scooter.
I suddenly realize that this is the first time a ever rode a scooter. I place my hooves on the handles balance there for a second then wobble over to the side. Heh, this might take a bit of practice I think to myself. I focus again determined to ride it.I take a breath then slowly place my hooves on it once more. I feel them slipping off but I make sure they stay in place. Slowly I place my back leg on the scooter itself and accidentally push off going forward. I squeal slightly in fear of falling but then compose myself pushing off again. A big smile spreads across my face as I crawl down the road. "I'm riding it!" I laugh as I make my way to the old mare's home.
