I know I can't tell them. My reputation would be in tatters. I see them glaring at me, pontificating to my soul. They'll never understand. Never. This is the only place where I feel free, alive. I don't have the social obligations, or the stress. All my life has been nothing but pain, and I've had to act to make my friends happy. But my knife, it's cold, smooth surface, it's sharp edges, the ornately carved ebony handle. I slide it down my skin, creating a thin line of red. The feeling brings me comfort, for I know I can still feel. Pain brings me back to the real world, made of lies and insecurity. Even my creature friends do not bring me as much comfort as this small act. My flesh tears, and a laugh escapes my lips.

Twilight never understood. She always had things hoofed to her. I love her as a friend, but she can never understand. Nor can Rainbow Dash. She would only try to stop me. In the darkness, I am safe. Nothing can hurt me here. I turn the custom switchblade in my hooves. The blade glints in the dim light of a lonely candle. The inscription on the blade, Dolor Sit Acceptus, reminds me of my lonely fillyhood. The torment, the bullying, the reclusive, painful life I led. My father was always drunk, and abused me both physically and sexually. And my mom never cared to intervene. Her poisonous voice looms over my skull like a guillotine, dropping ever lower. The small respite I found in my creatures couldn't even begin to quell my endless agony. Only physical pain suffices, and the amount of which I bring upon myself daily just barely suppresses my innumerable urges to end my existence. Always being walked on, tormented, desolated. And slowly, my mind becoming unhinged. I feel more free by the hour, making my long wait seem folly. I didn't have to endure the humiliation, but I still hadn't known about the joys of pain. Of feeling my warm blood slide down my body, into a pool on the floor. My guilty pleasure, letting me forget the troubles of the world. My mind is clear, in the dark. I can completely block out the hate, the despair, the greed. Celestia knows I wish I could help, but I can't seem to go through with it. Too many ponies have spit in my face, for my acts of kindness, no longer shall they find help with me. Dragging the blade down the length of my wings, I think back to flight school. Everybody, except Rainbow Dash, ridiculed me for my impairments. Then Rainbow helped me, and I felt accepted by somepony for once in my life. Then, when Rainbow Dash was racing two of the bullies, I got knocked off the cloud, and plummeted. That was the day I realized that only one pony ever really cared. The insufferable torment had burned a hole in my mind, creating these imagined inhibitions I have, making me a social outcast. I never really understood how some ponies could be so callous, and why they feel the need to inflict pain on others. The pain is much more pleasurable when you inflict it on yourself. Every cut of the blade is an intimate, personal affair that you'll carry with you for life.

But then I met the others. They were different. They tried to understand, where nopony else would. But they still failed. They can't know that I do this, they would try to get me therapy, or some other form of intervention. But the ludicrous amounts of inane questions run through my skull. Why would they care? Do they think they know me? They shall never know my true existence, only the lie that I have kept, this masquerade of conformity. They make me happy, but I know it will end one day. When they learn the truth, they will cast me away, I just know it. How could they be friends with one who does such deeds to their body? How can they see me as anything but a hollow, broken shell.

I know Rainbow Dash will come today. She always does. She feels protective of me. I just wish she would learn to let me be alone, but she thinks I'll try to do something. She doesn't know about my pleasures, but she'll most likely find out. She always perseveres when trying to help. I need to hide it better. I stuff the box under the bed. The box not only contains the knife, but pictures of her. Rather lewd pictures, if one must be specific. She would probably be disgusted if she saw them. The embarrassing pictures are the closest things I have to a lover. She would never want to date somepony like me, a failure, a worthless, forgotten piece of dust in the corner. I want to have her hold me, to dance with me, but it'll never happen.

A knock reverberates from the door. Flying downstairs, I hit my head hard, and hit the floor. I know it's her. In my foolishness, I forgot to drop my flower I was holding. I don't care anymore. If she sees them and asks, I'll confess. If not, well, I may confess anyway. The house is dark, so I turn the light switch. The light brings forth pain in my eyes. A bit of the vampire fruit bat's still reside within me, but I can at least control my urges. Opening the door, I see Rainbow Dash hovering there, waiting. She looks at me, impatiently. "Hey 'Shy, I've been waiting fo... what's with the flowers?"

"Rainbow Dash, I have something to express. Do you like me... the same way I like you?"

Rainbow Dash looked at me, rather surprised, and laughed. I knew it. I ran. I ran until my legs could carry me any farther, and collapsed. Just as I did, a flaming mass sped down the sky towards me...

I wake up, on the floor, covered in sweat. The knocking continues. It was all just a dream. I continue to the door, and Rainbow's standing there. She looks at me. "Ready to go?" I nod, and we head out, the flowers still in my wings.

Author's Note

Hope you all enjoyed. Again, I'm not very good at this.