Fallen Angel

Fluttershy backed away. Stormy Flight stepped closer to his daughter, his face an unreadable mask. The 18 year old girl reeled back against  the basement wall, her pupils incredibly dilated in fear, so much so they were scarce more than small black dots swimming in the whites of her huge eyes.

"You're a disgrace!" Stormy yelled, his coal black hair hiding his face. "You can't even finish a fucking test! Why the hell are you here?" Fluttershy's father had been drinking. He did this when he was drunk. Her mother was probably locked away in the upstairs bedroom. Flitterbug always hid when this happened, and never acknowledged it's happening. To her the man she had married too young was perfect, though he was far from it. Stormy brought his fist to meet his daughter's face. Hard. Fluttershy tried not to cry as blood filled her mouth. The taste of the blood was common for her, due to the many times her father had done this. Stormy pulled a cigarette out of his mouth and grabbed Fluttershy's arm, extinguishing the still burning cigar on her arm, where countless other burn marks were still there, never to heal. Her father grabbed a knife from a table. Her eyes widened even more if it was possible.

"NO!" she screamed, her eyes shooting open.

Fluttershy woke suddenly, her pupils still dilated in fear. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Only a nightmare. Her father had been in jail for 10 years. Only a nightmare. She pushed her covers off and walked into the bathroom. The glowing lights around the mirror illuminated the room, shining on her pale skin. She reached over to the sink to grab her hairbrush, pulling it through her tangled, pale pink hair. She pulled off her sweater, feeling the sweat soaked shirt leave her skin. She pulled her undershirt over her head as well, followed by her pajama pants and underwear. She dragged the curtain to her shower open, then closed. Turning the handle, she heard the satisfying hum of the pipes as the water spouted from the shower head. The water washed over her body, cleaning off the sweat and clearing her head. She needed to stop fearing Stormy Flight. Fluttershy's father. Her abusive, Goddamn father. He never deserved to live. But now... now she sounded like him. She shook her head, flinging water from her wet hair everywhere, the sharp sound as it smacked against the curtain bringing her to her senses.

Fluttershy stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. Her teal-green eyes were finally calm, and her breathing had fallen into a regular pattern again. While she would be haunted by the memories of her father for the rest of her life, she could finally rest easy. When she was 8, her friend Pinkamena, who was 9, had told her parents that she heard "Mr. Flight" yelling bad words at Fluttershy. Then she had heard Fluttershy scream. So Pinkie's parents had told the police, who investigated, and discovered that Stormy Flight had a history of drug use, alcoholism, and smoking. Further investigation showed that he had abused his daughter both physically, and mentally. The mentally broken girl had always seemed weak and shy among her friends, but they never asked her why. Unbeknownst to them, this only added to Fluttershy's depression. Did her friends truly care, if they never asked about the truth behind her shy demeanor? No one would ever listen to the troubles of a shy girl who never spoke, anyways.