It was getting dark. She was alone and it was getting dark. Her limbs were numb, her breathing laboured and the fur on her face darkened with dried blood. Her eyelids flickered, not quite closing as her body struggled to function. Darkness, all around her yet not really there. There was a tingle on her left side, an unbearable, unreachable itch, taunting her. She couldn't move. The Darkness wasn't nice.
Darkness surrounded her, held at bay by a solitary candle, faltering as it lowered, nearly gone. Her blankets wrapped around her tightly, keeping her safe, were drawn in even more as she prepared for the inevitable death of her precious little light. Rainbow Dash was afraid of the dark.
Lying there, she thought back to her foalhood, remembering the bright, safe days she spent enjoying life with her friends on the clouds. She remembered happy gatherings for birthdays, exciting school tours, frustratingly quiet, yet nice, times spent with less energetic ponies than herself, everything she had ever enjoyed when she was small, only learning to fly, growing up. She remembered the wonderful days, bright and safe, living carefree above a sea of white.
Now it was dark and getting darker. Her breathing grew shallower as she lay trapped, alone in the dark. Her friends weren't with her, her family couldn't help her, she was trapped and the Darkness was creeping closer.
She had never told anypony, not even her parents, that she was afraid of the dark. She couldn't show weakness, couldn't let them see her frightened by something so trivial. Darkness wasn't anything to Fear! She convinced herself of that and made sure it didn't show. 'You can't be scared of anything, Dash,' she had said to herself. 'It's nothing to worry about! Just blow out the candle.' And still, the candle stayed lit, the little flame dancing tauntingly in front of her, mocking the filly's Fear, teasing her, asking her to get rid of it. She couldn't. It was too precious.
She lay unmoving, thinking of her time in Flight Camp. The races she'd won, the fights she'd had, the boring theory classes spent talking and firing spitballs, the laughs shared with friends, the awkward conversations about relationships, which she had tried to avoid, all the bad falls, all the new tricks learned, accidents, friendly discussions, mistakes, forgiveness, regrets. Darkness, Fear, loneliness, the little candle of her sanity burning low. It needed fuel, but she couldn't find any.
All around, the world grew dim. Possibilities, scattered everywhere like the leaves shaken loose when she crashed in a forest, unheard by anypony. The sense of helplessness brought by her inability to move so much as a feather was calling back her old Fear. Her mind wasn't listening to her brain, her heart wasn't telling her to move, she... no, that wasn't right. What was? The Darkness slowly came close, step by step, inch by inch. She struggled to think clearly, her heart racing and her breath laboured. Panicking, trapped, surrounded by monsters and nightmares, her mind was blank. Where were they? Why would they leave her? She needed their help. The pain was overwhelming, striking her whole body as it pleased.
She needed help.
Her mother's eyes, wide, disturbed, looked down at her. They were blue, she noticed, barely registering the emotion behind them. They were blue, but also not. Why was that? She returned the gaze eagerly, beaming, hoping to make her smile. She wasn't smiling. She didn't remember why she was looking at her mother, why she was being looked at, but she grinned happily as she rubbed one of the loose feathers beside her. Soft, fluffy, light as, well, a feather.
Blue. It was blue, like her mother's eyes, but also not. It was a light blue, and only blue. Her mother still looked at her, her eyes growing wider still as Dash smiled up.
That lifelong pain, the sleepless nights spent writhing in agony, the pain of hiding the pain during the day. Her friends didn't notice, her friends didn't care enough to notice. She was loud, louder than the others, because it was easier to hide. Her friends wouldn't notice, too worried about themselves or the others to realise. She was in constant pain, but she couldn't remember why.
Now that pain was gone, but a new kind of pain, one she had never experienced before, was cutting through her. An unbearable pressure was exploding outwards, out of her head. She couldn't see through the Darkness, blinded by the stream of shifting colours in that horrendous void. Her heart wasn't working, she couldn't feel it beat, it wasn't there. Her legs and wings were gone, she had no fur, no skin. Her bones were shattering, her muscles withering, her mind slipping away. She was exploding from the inside and felt it all.
She was alone.
Trapped and alone, without friends, caring or uncaring, without her family, understanding, confused and afraid, without a light in the Darkness to keep her from losing herself and her sanity
A thought, errant and insignificant, presented itself to her. It wasn't worth her time, but it asked so nicely that she couldn't refuse. 'That's your feather. It's not alone. You are.' It was a silly thought, not worth paying attention to, but she couldn't look away. That tiny thought had to be wrong. It couldn't be right. She told it to leave. It was smiling oddly, refusing to go. It was persistent, but it had said its piece and was now no longer necessary. Why was it still here? She had dismissed it! 'Go away!'
But it wasn't lying. That was her feather in her hoof, soft and fluffy and light. Her hoof had her feather, her face had a grin and her mother had eyes. Her wings hurt. She blinked, confused. 'Why do they hurt?' They didn't normally hurt.
Her mother screamed, backing away, staring at her as though she were a monster. She looked down. A blanket of blue feathers coated the floor. They weren't on her wings.
Her body felt nothing, but pain coursed through her. Sobbing silently in the Darkness, the pain brought memories, pain and pain, Darkness and pain, numbness. Her wings ached, her hooves twitched and were numb, her ears, her sides, her... She was in agony, everywhere and nowhere. The Darkness smiled. It was quite amusing to watch her mind err.
Unable to move, she screamed harshly, begging the Darkness to stop. Her throat, her head, her eyes hurt. It wasn't going to stop. She continued her roar, her throat wet and warm. She was cold.
Very cold.
Red, blue, red and blue. Soft, warm, blue. They hurt. Her wings hurt. Why? The feathers were blue, but red was spreading through them. Red wasn't nice. Blue and red. Her wings hurt and her ears hurt and the blue was soft and her hooves hurt and the red wasn't soft. She smiled at her mother, but her mother didn't smile back. She kept moving away. The floor shouldn't have feathers. Floors don't have feathers.
Her mother was crying. 'Why? It's soft?' The scream hurt her ears and she wasn't happy. Her mother hurt her. Her mother wasn't nice. She hurt her ears and didn't smile.
Her ears were sore, sore and wet, warm, sore. 'Why?' A hoof, careful but hard, moved up. Up to her ears. It wasn't soft or flappy. It... wasn't. 'Where is it?'
Moaning. Her body hated her, clearly, for it refused to get warm. She was beyond shivering, too cold even for that uncontrollable action. All around her, Darkness watched, but she couldn't see it. She couldn't see anything. That Fear, old and forgotten, replaced long ago, touched her mind. It had missed her, or so it said. Lying broken in the Darkness, she couldn't shrug it off. The Fear giggled, a small sound, barely noticed by the bloody mare. Still, it was noticed. It was resented, loathed, and it loved it all. It wanted her to suffer.
White. The world was white. Not the cloud-white of her home, but a cold, plotting white. It was against her as well. Nothing could be trusted, especially not white.
Rough. There was rough against her hoof. It was tight, asserting its dominance over the unfortunate appendage. She didn't like it, so she told it to stop. The rough didn't listen. Her brow furrowing in concentration, she sent her senses out, exploring the white. Intrepid as they were, they quickly scurried back to inform her of the white's terrible secrets. There was more than just a single Rough, and all of them keeping her limbs captive. Held against their will, she was told tales of their fight against their oppressors. She shook her head, disappointed in them. Well, she tried to shake her head. There was a rough there as well. It annoyed her.
Nothing. The Darkness was gone now, replaced by Nothing. She felt Nothing, she heard Nothing, she smelled and tasted Nothing. She saw Nothing. Nothing didn't surround her, it was her. She was Nothing and Nothing enveloped her. Though she was cold, she didn't feel it. Nothing protected her from the horrors in the Darkness. Nothing was nice, Nothing was friendly, Nothing was trustworthy. Nothing made her happy. Nothing was worth staying alive. She needed Nothing.
The white began to change. It grew darker in places, large blobs invading the white. Why was the Darkness helping her? It hated her and she hated it. Maybe it had changed, though she doubted it.
A sound, harsh and direct, aimed at her. Though not bad on its own, it brought friends, a cacophony that filled her head and distracted her from the white and the Darkness, then died down and left her alone.
What was that? The sound was talking to her, the Darkness was talking. It didn't sound friendly, it sounded cold. Were those words? She must have missed them.
Nothing wrapped her up in a comfortable blanket, Nothing made sure she was safe and warm and not sore. She liked it, the Nothing. Nothing liked her.
The white began to move, sliding upwards, small lines appearing. The white was made of squares. It was moving, responding to her word. Her ears hurt and her wings hurt and her hooves hurt and her head hurt and she didn't like it. 'Ow,' she stated, hoping to convey her meaning to the Darkness, which shifted. The noise was back again, though it left soon. Once again, she was deafened by the others, and once again, they left her in the disturbing quiet afterwards.
It couldn't protect her from the Darkness inside her head. The Darkness wanted her head to hurt, so her head hurt. Nothing tried to help, but Darkness was better. It had known her longer, longer than she could remember. Nothing wanted to help. It couldn't. Not when it was a newcomer to her world. It was temporary, whereas the Darkness was eternal.
The darkness grew, slowly expanding across the white, aiding her sarcastically, pretending to be nice.
The Nothing faded, Darkness enveloping it, her last safety, in its disturbing colours. It no longer had to pretend. She was alone and at its mercy. It had free reign over her broken mind.
It exploited her Fear, taking away the scary colours and leaving an even scarier black. It wasn't helping. The white was nicer.
It continued expanding...
...and expanding...
...and the world was no more.
Empty
Afraid
Alone
