Wildlife

Feather Weight had always thrown tremendous parties. They were almost all she remembered from her teenage years. From the Day she got her Cutie Mark till the day everything fell apart. The lights were always dim in his parents’ house. Scootaloo is the reason she ever went to one, she generally avoided them, they general were loud and rowdy, filled with drunks and drugs, and everything her friends were eager to explore.

“Yeah, Feather Weights parents work the third shift, there out all night, so sometimes Feather Weight has friends over. They play all your favorite songs, you should come out with me and Bloom tonight to celebrate your Cutie Mark.”

Or to get Scootaloos mind off the fact that she was the only one without her Cutie Mark yet. Sweetie Bell reluctantly agreed, after Scootaloo promised her voice would be fine for church the next morning. Feather Weight was surprised to see Sweetie Bell there. “Hey you” he greeted, pressing his nose lightly against her neck. “Thought you were to good for my parties.”
They had been dating since Hearts and Hooves day a year back. He was starting to fill out more, still tall, but his teeth were starting to look natural in his older frame. She giggles. “Yeah I know, but I’m celebrating tonight” she tells him, and he grins.
“Good, you deserve it.” He was worried about her the day before, since she refused to leave her house. Her offers her a drink, and she takes it reluctantly. “Feather Weight, I don’t know if I should be drinking.” He rolled his eyes, “You’ll be fine, completely fine.” He assures her.

What he didn’t know was how scared Sweetie Bell was to be her mother. If she wasn’t so worried about how she perceived his view of her she would have left it alone, but that wasn’t the case. And she drank. She and Scootaloo had drink after drink until things seemed lighter.

Things felt right and perfect, and Feather Weight was there with them. He wasn’t always right near them as he mingled with the crowd and scrolled through his music to find songs he liked best, but they never worried about each other.

All the parties were that way. They were a lovely constant for Sweetie Bell, a time she and Scootaloo could spend some time without Apple Bloom, (Who always said she would go but never got the chance too)

Feather Weight wasn’t just content with drinking though, he never had been, but he wasn’t insistent on their involvement until Sweetie Bell had already felt the sickness take her mind. It was easy for her to accept the pills he offered. “These are Uppers” he would tell her, or “These will make you feel real mellow.”

Eventually the drinking, the drugs weren’t just something that stuck with the parties, they were things they were doing alone, and together. But parties were the best place Feather Weight doting on her and kissing her, her face her neck her back, anywhere he could get his mouth too. “You’re so sad lately Sweetie” he would whisper in his ear, “I’ll save you” he whispered. Always between the touching and separation of their saliva came the loving words.

She left the parties feeling worse than she did before she got there, and it turned into a vicious cycle where she thought the parties were the only joy of her life.

She thinks about the parties a lot, especially after her run in with Feather Weight. She remembers them dancing slowly to fast music. She remembers them drinking too much and her throwing up on his bed and whispering “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.” And he promised not to.

There were days when the party raged around them and she sat in his room sobbing, him always beside her. Until it became to much or him.

“Sweetie Please, Sweetie your fine, you just had too much to drink.” He would say, and she would respond with rough words,
“No, you just want me to feel like this, your just like everyone else, you don’t really care about me.

“Sweetie you aren’t ever happy anymore can’t I please get a smile.”

“Sweetie this is getting ridiculous.”

“Sweetie, Sweet Celestia, get your shit together.”

Nothing was different other than the words now, they still merged bodies and drank and kissed. And then he had to make a selfish decision, or maybe not a selfish one, but one for himself. It was an early Sunday morning. December.

“Sweetie, I need to talk to you.” He whispers, “I, I just can’t do this anymore, you have pushed and pulled at this thing we made.” She wasn’t really thinking about his words, just at how handsome he is, and when he concludes her jaw drops. “Sweetie, take care of yourself.”

“What do you mean?” She asks, her lips quivering, “Are you leaving?” and Feather Weight Exhales, running one of his wings through his mane. “Weren’t you listening to me Sweetie, this isn’t something we can do anymore, I’m sorry.”
Her hooves work faster than her mind and she is hitting him, toppling his surprised figure under him. He won’t fight back, even when she rams her hoof against his eye threatening to give him a concussion. He wouldn’t hurt her, that wasn’t his goal. His lip split and dribbled blood on his hand, and he coughed and sputtered as her body pressed the air from his lungs.

They are both crying now, emotion pooling between them faster than the blood. Rarity has to pull Sweetie Bell off of him.
All of Ponyville stared at her, or at least it felt like it.