Relief for Pain

"I wish I could go back to the rock farm..." I pushed the blade deeper into my flesh. It helped me...cope...with my emotions. The blade was my only true friend. It could provide to me what others could not. Satisfaction. Seeing my friends smile would only make me feel empty. I may have been the one to put the smiles onto their faces, but I would wear a fake one to mask my feelings. Behind the mask is the real me. I am Pinkamena Diane Pie. The care-free pony I turn into around my friends, makes me sick. It's not me. I want to strangle it. To put some worry into it's mind. As of now, it is beyond the point of no return. If I were to come out and express my true self in front of my friends, what would they think of me? I felt that my soul was left back at the rock farm. Where I always seemed so depressed. It was nothing compared to this.

    I needed to put the knife down. If I kept going, I would need medical attention. Just one more... No. Resisting the urge to press down once more, I angrily threw the knife across my room. It firmly embedded itself into the far wall. It was not my friend. It was relief. It seemed as though my blood represented all of my hatred and sorrow. It seeped out of my body due to the blade. It also represented life. If I kept using the knife, I would be found dead in this room in a bloody heap. That could possibly be the worst way to go. To have everything I've worked for just disintegrate in front of my friend's eyes. If only I could be honest around them. They just don't understand.

    Why resist?

    "I don't want to end up in a hospital." I was talking to myself. It made me mad.

    It's just a short walk away. You and I both know that you want more.

    "No. I don't. Just leave me alone." I was arguing with a voice inside my head.

    Go.

    "I guess I could survive just...one." It was winning. I knew this full well, but something inside me thought otherwise. I was powerless inside my own body. My hooves pushed against the floor so I could regain footing. I wasn't controlling them though. Once I was stabilized, my legs started to move. They pulled me forward to where the knife had planted itself in the wall. There was a voice somewhere in my mind telling me to stop... No it was screaming and pleading for me to stop. I didn't comply. It wasn't me pulling the knife from the wall. It wasn't me taking it closer and closer to my skin. It wasn't me who sliced up my arm, adding three permanent scars. It wasn't... No... It was me who lost consciousness. It was me who blacked out on the floor. It was me... I denied myself control. I was a mindless drone to stress. If the stress wasn't relieved soon, Celestia had better hope I'll get through this myself.

    Better?

    "Go to hell." And with that, my vision was enveloped with blackness. It wasn't blackness though. My friends were there. They just stood there though. Staring. Then I realized that they were staring at me! All ten of their eyes were glued to my recent scars. They were all on the back of my left hoof. That wasn't the only action they were doing. Slowly, in their semicircle around me, they moved towards me. Everything else was obscured by darkness. Then, my heart rocketed up to my throat, as I realized they were all holding knives. Various kitchen knives. I started to back up to match their rhythm. My eyes were wide with horror, and my hair was flattened out. I went on autopilot, otherwise my legs would have locked up and buckled under me. Then, I backed into a wall. It wasn't just a wall though. It was my bedroom wall, and it still had the knife stuck in it. My initial reaction was to reach out and yank it from the wall using my good and sliced up hooves. I held it out threateningly, with no intentions to hurt any of them.

    Kill. The voice in the back of my head chimed. It was too much for me to take. I screamed out to nothingness.

    "AAHHHHHHHH!" I woke up from the blackout, and took in my surroundings. I was still in my room, but something made me go white with fear. Applejack stood there in the doorway with her mouth wide open. She must have seen the blood, my front hoof, and the knife, and connected the dots. It was too late. She didn't say anything, and alike, I couldn't think of anything to say. We just stood frozen. Staring into each others eyes, as if trying to pry information from our facial expressions. Applejack broke the tension.

    "Pinkie! We need to get you to a hospital!" The urgency in her voice made the statement much more pressing.

    "NO!" Applejack flinched at my sudden out burst. I may have been a bit harsh.

    "We have to do something! You could die if you stay here!"

    "I don't want them to know!" I could feel a lump form in my throat.

    "Know what!?" The tears building up inside me stated to pour out like rain. I felt like a filly. I knew what I was doing was wrong, even from the start. I didn't know I would be addicted though. It just felt so good...

    "I-I'm not Pinkie Pie. I'm Pinkamena."

    "We might need to get you a psychiatrist afterwards."

    "NO! Pinkie is who you know. Pinkamena is who I really am. Don't tell them about this. Please."

    "Can we at least cover up the wound?"

    "F-fine." Applejack ran back out of the room to find any sort of cloth to stem the bleeding. I was glad, because I was starting to get a bit dizzy from losing so much. I laid back down on the bloodied floor. I felt so helpless. Truth being, if Applejack hadn't found me here, I would have died. My vision started to go dark. She returned just in time. I couldn't tell for sure, but I assumed it had only been about half a minute. Another half and I would have passed out again. Without saying a word, Applejack took my arm and furiously attempted to stem the profuse blood flow. It wasn't all that successful, but it slowed it down at least. I knew that, sooner or later, I would need proper treatment, and that would only come from Twilight (with the knowledge of all of her books) or from a certified nurse. The latter seemed like the best alternative. If Twilight found out about my cutting, I would die right then right there.

    "Applejack?" She was putting final touches on the handiwork.

    "Yes?" She looked up.

    "Can you...pinkie promise...not to tell anypony else? Not until we need to?"

    "Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye." It hurt to hear those words, but at least now, I was assured. She was the element of honesty after all.