I should just do it today and get it over with . . . .
Fluttershy stared at the rope dangling in the closet, fashioned into a neat hangman’s noose. She stared at it longer now than she ever had before. The desire to use it had built up every day since she was a little filly. Every day seemed to be worse than the last, and every night ended the same way. Every night, she’d do her chores, tuck in her animals, and right before bed, she’d open up her closet and try once again to make the biggest—and the last—decision of her life.
Every instance of pain and misery stemming from her anxiety and depression made her come back to the rope in the closet. Even what she thought was the greatest day of her life, discovering the world on the ground and getting her cutie mark, had come after an event that could have stopped her from getting it in the first place. She had very nearly died that day, all because she couldn’t fly. She was always slower than the other Pegasus foals, and had only learned how to stay in the air that day. She didn’t learn to fly longer distances until months later.
It looks nice and tight today . . . .
And then there was the teasing. The relentless, cruel teasing that had been like a million needles in her heart. Every time she’d felt weak, worthless or unloved, it all sprang back to her mind, unbidden, after years of trying to live it down. She heard their words seize her from within her subconscious, trying to throttle her from the inside out. “Fluttershy, Fluttershy, Fluttershy can hardly fly!”
I’ve taken such good care of it. I hope it won’t snap when I drop . . . .
Moving to Ponyville hadn’t made things much better. Since adopting Angel, she just had one more reason every night to stare at that rope in her closet. Angel was a mean, selfish, abusive troublemaker on his best days. He never ate the food she gave him. He always demanded special orders. And when he didn’t get his way, he’s throw things, kick things, and even hit Fluttershy. Nothing she did was ever enough for him. It was a textbook example of an abusive relationship—in spite of all he did to her, she didn’t want to lose him.
I wonder if anypony will notice. I wonder if anypony will miss me . . . .
Unlikely. She’d made her share of mistakes, mistakes she could never forgive herself for. She’d made that friend of Rainbow Dash’s, Gilda, mad at her. She’d unleashed a Parasprite swarm on the whole town. She’d made Rarity jealous of her glamorous, though short-lived, career as a model. She’d gotten a taste of what being a bully was like, and made two of her closest friends cry. That wouldn’t be the first time she’d become a monster; a bat communication spell and a magic comic book had brought her hidden rage to the forefront, and both times, her friends were at risk because of her. She’d kidnapped Celestia’s royal pet. She’d ruined Nightmare Night. And even though she’d tried her best to reform him, Discord had still betrayed her.
She’d blamed herself. She always blamed herself. Even when it wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t see it that way.
I just hope they aren’t too bothered when they find me in the morning . . . .
And then there was Rainbow Dash. That horrible, selfish, bullying excuse for a friend had given Fluttershy a new reason to hate herself every day since they met up again in Ponyville. So she was shy. So she liked animals, and so she preferred their company over ponies. So she was anxious and nervous most of the time. Was that any excuse to bully her? To coerce her, physically, emotionally or otherwise, to do things she didn’t want to do? She’d had bruises under her fur from the Crystal Faire Jousting event for weeks. The thought that Dash had taken any time to think about essentially trading Fluttershy away for a book made her shiver every time. Just her mentioning the Dragon Migration gave her nightmares that night.
Nightmares . . . night . . . yes, that had been the worst of all.
She laughed at me . . . .
Fluttershy had wanted so badly and tried so hard to join her friends for Nightmare Night. She’d done everything she could to make it work. But all Dash could do was complain; she’d been groaning and rolling her eyes most of the night. But when it had been suggested that Fluttershy try being scary . . . .
Why didn’t I do it then? Why did I wait for so long?
At one point, Rainbow Dash was her greatest champion. Whenever she’d been bullied, Dash was there. Whenever she’d needed help flying, Dash was there. Whenever Fluttershy needed a friend, without warning and without hope for reward, Rainbow Dash was there. But nowadays, she was just as bad as the bullies who’d tormented her as a filly. In fact, she was worse.
Why? Why doesn’t she care anymore? I thought she was my friend . . . ?
Obviously, Rainbow Dash just needed a more pathetic pony next to her all the time, so she could look better by comparison. It was just one thing that made it stay and hurt her, burn her, poison her inside and kill her little by little every day. And nopony else knew what it was like. Rarity and Applejack were always too busy to talk to. Pinkie could never understand. And Twilight had better things to do with her time—she was Equestrian royalty, after all. And not even Discord’s magic could keep it at bay for very long. It would always be there. And it would always haunt her. That feeling of doubt, self-loathing, inner turmoil. The feeling that she wasn’t good enough.
So why am I still here?
Fluttershy often thought back over her life to see what’d she’d done that was so important. Most of the time, she’d come up empty, but tonight was a rare night. She’d sent that dragon away when it was polluting the air in Ponyville. She’d saved her friends from a manticore, a cockatrice, and Cerberus. Without her, Cloudsdale wouldn’t have gotten that hurricane water it needed, and Ponyville may have been damaged in the meantime. Her limited stealth skills had helped against both Trixie and Starlight Glimmer. She’d helped the PonyTones attend their various gigs, and had learned to break out of her shell on stage. She’d helped the Breezies get back home. She’d helped make peace between the Hooffields and the McColts. And because Discord was now firmly set on changing his ways, she must have done something right with him.
But it doesn’t matter. Anypony could have done those things. Applejack is just as good with animals as I am. Rainbow Dash is a great flier, so she could have made that hurricane work without me. Rarity could have just as easily snuck around to help us beat Trixie and Starlight. They could have gotten anypony to help Big McIntosh lip-sync until his throat got better. And if I hadn’t kept them in the first place, the Breezies would have gotten home safely and on time. And Twilight’s a diplomat. She could stop a whole war if there was one. And Discord betrayed us once. Even I can’t stop him from doing it again.
I’m not worth anything to anypony . . . .
Without thinking, Fluttershy reached out for the rope, slipped her hooves into the noose, and brought it to her, sliding the noose carefully past her mane and around her neck.
I’m a coward . . . and a failure . . . and a nopony . . . .
She tightened the noose, fastening it over her neck, not bothering to move her mane.
Rainbow Dash isn’t my friend anymore. She doesn’t want a wimp like me for a friend . . . .
She stepped inside the closet, on top of a large box.
I don’t deserve to be the Element of Kindness. If anything, I’m the Element of Worthlessness.
She checked the rack inside, made sure the rope was tied tightly, and held nice and securely between the coat hangers.
Nopony would miss me . . . .
She turned and faced the outside of the room.
Nopony would care . . . .
She stood on her hind legs, struggling to keep balance.
I deserve to die . . . .
She took one step off the box, and . . . .
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!
Fluttershy quickly tore off the rope, jumped out of the closet, stuffed the rope back behind her hanging clothes, and slammed the doors of the closet, backing into it with forelegs spread as if covering up a government secret. She glared at the front door, feeling her face burn, and prayed for whoever was there to think she was sleeping and trot away.
No such luck. KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK! “Fluttershy! It’s me, Rainbow Dash! I know it’s late, but it’s kind of an emergency!”
Fluttershy felt her heart drop, and the back of her head hit the closet door behind her. Her hind legs shook under her, but whether it was out of fear or rage was unclear. Why didn’t I just do it? Why didn’t I do it in time? She could have found me. Then she’d know how badly she hurts me—
“Fluttershy, come on! I can hear you moving around in there! Please, it’ll only take a minute!”
Fluttershy’s face twisted up in a pained knot of emotion, she took a deep breath, held back her tears, and walked to her front door. Opening it, she indeed saw Rainbow Dash standing on the other side. She held a small tortoise carefully in her front hooves.
“Tank fell out of bed,” Dash explained, holding up her pet, shell facing Fluttershy. “Do you think you could look him over, make sure his shell isn’t cracked or anything?”
Fluttershy eagerly took Tank from Dash as she heard this, but for a moment, she stopped and thought carefully for a few seconds—something was amiss here. “Uh, Rainbow Dash?”
“Yeah?”
“Umm . . . Tank lives with you, doesn’t he?”
“Well, of course! Why wouldn’t he?”
Well, um . . . he sleeps in your bedroom, right?”
“Sure does!”
“And your whole house . . . well, um . . . it’s made of soft fluffy clouds, isn’t it?”
Dash suddenly had a look of sheepishness plastered on her blue face. “Uhh . . . w-well, y-you know how much I worry about him, right?” she stammered, recovering. “I, well, I just wanted to make sure he was all right. M-maybe it’s nothing, but I just wanted to be sure, and you’re the animal specialist, right? I mean, not many ponies know how much I . . . care about . . . my friends . . . s-so, yeah, uh, that’s the thing . . . .”
Fluttershy gave a quick sigh and inspected Tank’s shell. Slowly, his tiny wrinkled head swiveled around and looked back over his shell, and the contented terrapin grinned at Fluttershy as if to say, “Hello, my friend.”
“Hello, sweetie,” Fluttershy answered his wordless greeting, smiling back at him. She gently pressed her hooves against Tank’s shell, feeling around for any breakage. She scrutinized the tough green exterior, and saw not a flaw in place. “You really take care of Tank’s shell, don’t you?”
“I polish it every morning!” Dash exclaimed proudly, rubbing a hoof against her chest and blowing on it.
Fluttershy looked at Tank’s belly for any abnormalities, and could find nothing. She looked along his front and back legs: nothing. She inspected every crevice on his wizened head, making him giggle slightly when it tickled, and still nothing was wrong. Through with her inspection, Fluttershy held Tank up to face her. “You’re going to be just fine, little sweetheart,” she assured him, patting his head. Tank merely grinned back, seeming to be glad of such a prognosis.
Fluttershy extended her hooves, and Dash took Tank back. “Glad to know you’re gonna be okay, little buddy!” Dash cheered, hugging and nuzzling her reptilian friend. She then looked up at her fellow Pegasus and smiled. “Thanks a lot, Fluttershy. I’ll come back with Tank in the morning for another look, just to be sure. That cool with you?”
“Of course,” Fluttershy replied. “If Tank ever needs anything, just let me know, okay?”
“Okay . . . uh, Fluttershy?”
“Yes?”
Dash hesitated, her face screwed up in effort as she tried to find the words. “You’re . . . you’re my friend. Okay?”
Fluttershy stared back at Dash, bewildered by such a random statement. “What?”
“You’re my friend. I just wanted you to know that. In fact, you’re my best friend. And I’d do anything for you. Don’t ever forget that. Okay?”
Fluttershy could feel the tears coming back, but she dared not show them in front of Rainbow Dash. “O- . . . okay. Thank you, Rainbow Dash.”
“Anytime. See ya tomorrow, okay?”
“Um, okay. Good night.”
“Good night!” And with that, Rainbow Dash closed Fluttershy’s door, and took off toward the night sky, heading home to bed.
Fluttershy walked back inside, stopping in the middle of the room, and stood there for a good few minutes. You’re my best friend, she had said. After all the pain she’d caused, all the things she’d said, all the callous ignorance of her broken feelings, she still had a mind to come out in the middle of the night and say that. Tank falling out of bed was a complete lie. There was no mistaking that. So she came out here tonight just to . . . say . . . to say that . . . I’m . . . .
She couldn’t hold it in anymore. Feeling her legs give way underneath her, Fluttershy dropped to the floor and sobbed. She hid her face in her forelegs and cried and cried, each sob squeezing the air out of her body only for it to be let back in with each heaving breath. Her tears stung her eyes, and her chest felt as though it would implode. Nothing made sense anymore.
She hurts my feelings . . . and she laughs at me . . . and she makes me do things . . . and I’m still . . . I’m still her . . . .
It was a hellish struggle just to form cognitive thought. The pain in her heart was too much for her. Her mind, steady as she tried to make it, was psychological whirlwind, spinning her and confusing her and making her tummy hurt.
I’ll just do it tomorrow night . . . .
She couldn’t use that rope now. Not after what just happened between her and Rainbow Dash. Not after this vague new feeling of self-worth began to throw her mind completely out of balance.
I’ll do it tomorrow . . . maybe . . . if she doesn’t hurt me again . . . maybe . . . .
Author's Note
The real tragedy is not in death. It's in the possibility that, in spite of all the good, she'll try again. And succeed.
