Learning to Fly

by CutieMarkChallenged

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Soarin, Original Character, Slice of Life
Length: 1318

All my life, I've done as I've been told. That's what life is about right? But as I watch the pegasi, I wonder, what would it feel like to fly? Could I take that risk? Test it and see if it would be as joyous as I imagine, or will it d

All my life, I've done as I've been told. I've done my work, stayed out of trouble, and obeyed my elders. That's what life is about right? Doing things correctly? But, as I watch the pegasi, animals, and other winged creatures, I wonder. What would it feel like? If I were to fly- just for a moment- would the loneliness go away, as I think it would? Or would flying condemn me, consume me, contaminate me, until I am no better than them? I wish to prove them wrong, I wish it would be as joyous as I imagine. But do I take that risk, for what if when all is done, not only will my fantasies be broken, but all of what's left of my hope as well?

(as the story progresses I will add more character/category tags)

Published 2013-05-02 23:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-05-02 23:30:02 UTC

Prologue

Prologue

I was sitting in my desk, looking out the clear window to my right. The school year had started a few months ago, and fall was quickly approaching. It was evident in the leaves' changing color, with the dead ones being blown onto the dying grass. The sky was a light, slightly pale blue. Something quite similar to my coat color, in fact. Plenty of little foals were with their parents, playing in the park across the street. The weather patrol was flying above, making sure not one cloud blocked Celestia's rays from the sky.

The world outside was beautiful, the view hardly hampered by the glass. I held in a sigh. I wasn't supposed to be looking out the window. Least of all now. Now I was at school, a place where I was to sit and learn. To see, feel, and experience, but not to be heard. My mind reprimanded me at once. Daydreaming is not allowed. It accomplishes nothing and gains even less. It is a waste of time. At this I turned back to my work, obeying the voice in my head, if not agreeing with it.

Thump

The noise drew me from my thoughts, returning me back into reality. I was no longer surrounded by numbers or calculations, but encircled by ponies and objects. I rather preferred the numbers, to be truthful. Equations, graphs, and figures were based on logic. Those, at least, made sense. Young fillies and colts, however, did not.

Thump

One might question why it had never occurred to me to wonder what the noise was. But alas, I knew all too well.

Thump

Although it didn’t hurt, I could still feel the projectiles hitting me and bouncing off of my head. One row back and two seats over was the bane of my existence. Well, one of them, anyway. Do not engage, Alette. Do not disgrace yourself by stooping to their level. Once again, I followed orders. Certain that my mind knew best, I continued ignoring the constant onslaught in favor for my schoolwork. Though, it wasn't like I needed to. I was weeks, if not months, ahead in all my lessons. Not that I told anypony in my class, mind you. Still, there was no need to get picked on any more than necessary.

Thump, Thump…..Thump, Thump-Thump

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes (or, perish the thought, retaliate in some form), I looked back out the window. Next Friday’s math assignment could wait. For now, I was busy being entranced by Equestria’s beauty. The grey walls of my classroom held nothing for me, but outside… Outside there was the sky, as deep and marvelous as the ocean, only better. There were trees, flowers, and other things I would never be allowed to encounter.

Suddenly something brushed past, almost a centimeter from my left wing. At the same time a flash of orange entered my peripheral vision. Curious, I lifted my head, and attempted to hide my horrified expression. Candy. They were throwing candy. I tucked my wings inside my dress, in an anxious attempt to keep them from getting messed up. What would Mother say if I came home with candy in my mane? Almost the same thing she would say if the sugary residue were to get stuck in my feathers. I shuddered at the thought. Mother wouldn’t like it. She wouldn’t like it at all.

I spent my lunch and recess in the bathroom, eliminating all evidence of the sticky-sweet substance from my mane and coat. Thankfully, my wings remained unscathed. A small fortune. My dress remained spotless, proof that the universe didn’t hate me today.

The rest of the school day went without incident. Well, without any unusual incidents. When the bell rang and signaled the end of class, I loaded my saddlebags with my things and headed outside. I looked around as I walked through the hallway. It was grey and depressing, yet proper and regal. Just as a Canterlot school should be. Outside the main doors, I looked around. The other children were playing at the playground, getting picked up by their parents, or simply walking home, as I was. Shifting my saddlebags behind my wings, I set off on my way home.

The air was slightly chilly, and it was getting colder every day. Today, however, the skies were clear. I watched as the weather control continued to see to that. The grass was dying, but it was still green. It never fully died, simply more like it went into hibernation, like bears. Not that grass had any genetic relation to bears.

My eyes wandered as my mind rationalized and picked apart my own simile. A few seconds later, I saw a blue streak. That was, of course, Soarin'. He's the best flier in all of West Canterlot Private Elementary Academy. When Soarin' landed, he was immediately surrounded by other ponies from our class. I didn't need to have a clear view to know what he looked like.

Soarin' had apple green eyes, a celeste polvere light blue coat, and a not-quite-navy mane. He'd already gotten his cutie mark, way before the rest of us. He'd won the end-of-camp-tournament the last two years at flight camp, or so I'd heard. I didn't enter the tournament. I didn't go to flight camp, either. I didn't even know how to fly. I was the one pegasus in my class that couldn't so much as lift off the ground. Not that they knew that, it would just make things worse.

Soarin' was a different story, though. Everypony knew who he was. There wasn't a pony that he met that didn't absolutely adore him. His charming smiles and daredevil attitude only amplified his happy-go-lucky personality. The adrenaline from his most recent stunt made his eyes shine. That reminded me of how his eyes often glitter, sparkling with his kindness. He was really smart, one of the top in our class. He was also really fit, which made sense considering how he was always outside practicing some new trick. He also had no clue that I existed. But I was used to that, not many ponies did. I blend into the background. I sit, watch, and stay silent. Just like I'm supposed to.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I ran straight into a pole. I rubbed my forehead, for once grateful that I wasn't a unicorn, for my face had hit the pole right where a horn would have been. I started to brush off my dress, and stood up. My saddlebags had fallen off my back, and had spilled out all over the sidewalk. It served me right, not paying attention or looking where I was going. It took me a minute to get my things together. My school supplies and other assorted objects were littered everywhere, making nothing but a large mess. There was no wonder why my bag weighed so much.

After putting everything back in its place, I started back home. I would be late, that's for sure. Another reason why daydreaming was bad. Tardiness will not be accepted, now or ever, Alette. People who are late have nothing important to do, and therefore are not important themselves. And that, too. The voice in my head had many such lessons and quips, all of which I was to heed or suffer the consequences.

At that time, I had finally reached my house. Although it was large, I could still hear my mother, four rooms and an exterior wall away. As I opened up the front door, I prayed that my hooves and dress were clean. My tumble by the road would be no excuse, for Looking anything less than than your best at all times in inexcusable. Sometimes I found it odd that the voice inside my head sounded somewhat explicitly like my mother.