Schmerz

Another shouting match over lunch, another dish tossed to the floor by a repulsed child. Another day spent struggling against obstinacy that Twilight Velvet simply didn’t understand.

Where the little girl had learned it, she could only guess. What might have been small daily problems, solved by a tender word of correction or explanation, invariably blew up in the poor woman’s face, and, too often, turned into power struggles.

Sometimes mothers and daughters just didn’t click, she guessed.

Venting to Nightlight seemed to get them nowhere. It wasn’t that he didn’t support her. He’d been a kind and understanding spouse, talked seriously with their daughter, given the child well-reasoned consequences for her misbehavior, but, in the end, things always went back to the way they’d been. A few days of quiet obedience ended with more shrill whining, yelling, arguing, and, sometimes, outright violence from the daughter toward the brokenhearted mother. It usually happened when it was just the two of them. When Shining was home, the little girl was usually occupied, and, when Nightlight was home, she behaved almost perfectly.

For the abundance of love that Twilight Velvet felt for her daughter, she couldn’t deny that Twilight Sparkle was a quintessential problem child.

Months that felt like years passed, and, from terrible twos, the terror only grew. With each argument, Velvet grew more tired. With each tired day, Velvet had less to give of herself to Nightlight, and, soon, to both their dismay, their romance and their sex life dwindled.

Fine, Velvet thought. Eventually the tempestuous child might be willing to learn obedience from somebody else if nothing she tried as a parent worked, and, if not, then she’d at least eventually become somebody else’s unholy problem once she started school. She clung patiently to the hope. If only it hadn’t been in vain.

At four years old Twilight Sparkle entered the much-anticipated first year of her education, magic kindergarten. At the end of the first day, the girl’s teacher had been polite enough to appear apologetic as she explained that little Twiley had thrown crayons and hit other children with her fists. She’d been given several time-outs only to kick and scream throughout each of them. Velvet listened patiently, but she knew exactly what had happened before it was told to her—what always happened.

Several weeks passed in like manner, and Twiley had received multiple suspensions and, finally, been threatened with expulsion.

The night after begging the school for one more chance, the woman said nothing to her husband, faced away from Nightlight in bed, and hid hopeless tears as she cried herself to sleep.

Morning came too early the next day. With Nightlight gone to work and Shining off at school, Velvet and the daughter she used to fondly call her little Sparkle were once again left alone together.

Velvet looked from the entry to the children’s play room at her daughter as she held a small tea party. The little girl noted her presence, but didn’t look back until her mother finally approached her. Velvet took her seat at an open space next to one of the girl’s dolls. “Twiley,” Velvet ventured, her voice soft.

The girl frowned. She knew the trouble she was in despite getting off easy yesterday, her mother having failed to mention her newest, and lengthiest to-date, five-day suspension to her father. Still, there'd be plenty of time for punishment and scolding each day. Right now, her mom's tone sounded as though she was about to try boring her with another heart-to-heart talk. She knew this game like the back of her hand. She would win it now just like every other time. The little girl readily tuned her out and went back to playing with her dolls.

Twilight Velvet sighed sadly, and her eyes shimmered softly. Already, it was hopeless, she recognized. She'd spent her will to be patient so long ago. The young mother felt raw, beaten, and lonely, but, worst of all, trapped. In her weaker moments, she imagined revenge and relief, and, shuddering as she thought about it now, she longed for power over the impudent child.

For years, she’d fought the repulsive urges, wanted more than anything for her daughter to grow up happy in spite of the darkness she herself suffered. Her hope to raise the girl right depended now on the impossible task of disciplining her. What hadn't she tried already?!

Velvet agonized, yet, as desperation suffocated her for the thousandth time, realization slowly dawned on her. There was still something she hadn't tried—the one thing she'd never try but for sheer insanity, if she knew that failure were imminent and the risk of failing worse didn't matter. Had she reached that point? Was she ready to sacrifice her daughter's innocence?

Resolve formed in the woman. Maybe her daughter didn't know the damage she was doing to their lives—maybe—but nothing else had worked! Soon enough, the girl could wind up losing more than just her innocence. She didn't have to lose it her mother's way, after all. In a detention center she would lose it other ways, possibly worse ways.

No! Velvet wouldn't accept it. There was no other reasonable option but to follow the instincts that she, as a mother, knew weren't looked kindly upon by others, yet, perhaps, were the answer nonetheless.

Knowing that she'd done everything but entertain her urges, a manic relief seeped through her. Now—finally—Velvet determined, it was time to let go.

What tearing, painful excitement unexpectedly clawed at the gentle woman at that thought was beyond anything she could recall. Her heartbeat quickened, and she almost panicked. Despite having considered it seriously from her daughter's second birthday, she felt unprepared. Despite how much she'd wanted that kind of power ever since her own adolescence, now, Twilight Velvet felt every one of her nerves on end.

It almost certainly wasn’t going to go how she'd always dreamed, softly, peacefully, full of care and kind words. Velvet had tried everything in her power to grow closer to her daughter, but, now, there was no more time, not just for their relationship, Velvet decided. There was almost no more time for anything worthwhile in life.

As soon as her little girl returned to school and acted out again, it would mean expulsion and the stress and shame of shuffling her among other schools. When that failed, either the impossible challenge of home schooling followed, or else sending her to a center for troubled youths. It meant her little Sparkle would live with rejection, their family met with scandal, and, Velvet feared most, with the way she and Nightlight had been growing apart, it would mean the end of her marriage—the end of love.

Still doubting the course she was about to take, she reminded herself that none of the likely solutions had worked to fix the problem. Though an unlikely solution was even more unlikely to fix her situation, at least, thought Twilight Velvet, she would end it all on her terms.

No more anxiety. No more pleading. No more arguing. Though sexually starved and powerless, Twilight Velvet was certain she’d soon have relief.

Swallowing, Velvet closed her eyes and focused on calming herself. Every other effort will be useless, she told herself. Why delay the inevitable? Face it head on, fiercely.

No. Not fiercely, she countered herself, at least not yet—but boldly, yes. No need to spend all her energy at once, she reasoned. Make it last.

Rather than kick and scream, she was going to go willingly to hell. She may as well relish the fall.

Derangement settled in her, and Twilight Velvet smiled at her daughter.