Author's Note

Ah, you've made to chapter nine of Fireflower's fanfic that goes beyond the typical oneshots made from before, a Mature one no less on the grounds that a previous chapter has recently dealt with subject matters proven to be unsuitable for those under eighteen, easily offended, and/or quickly nauseated; suffice to say, this was by far a strong note for many readers all and therefore you were all given an option to skip ahead to this chapter: whether or not you have taken this offer, it was only up to you to do so nothing more.

Aside from disclaimers long ago, I want to take the time to say thank you for never pulling out too early since we're now in the second half of the story's progress; somehow, the new year had provided us with a new hope to have and hold with tender loving care rather than yet a totally lost cause and the strength to continue onward in staying tuned for the future that is coming on: I believe at this rate, everything will make sense soon enough.

One last thing before I sign off, I hope you can be surprised about this chapter now even more than the others before it because a special guest is going to be joining one of our fateful protagonists in this chapter below; but, it will not be the end until otherwise so please stay tuned and enjoy, okay?

Treats

Pure uncut darkness within was the only way of how the small world works all at large thereof, let alone the real world to say in the very least; as a matter of fact, the former was, by far, indeed the latter and vice versa altogether. The jet black void was all that could be seen but not heard, felt, tasted, or smelled; yet, it can be also sensed as well anyways, devoid of even a modicum of light bearing any hue whatsoever to permeate throughout in its entirety. For a moment, it would had seemed that all was completely lost, its mere fate was already sealed and set in stone to say the least before the very beginning itself; nothing else was going to even change that in even the slightest margin.

“NO…!” a loud quick escaped from there, creating an anomaly that gave such a darkness some semblance of life whatsoever: a suddenly new voice being nothing more than ragged panting and wheezing from between intervals; before long, the haphazard breathing had quieted itself down into stabilization.

In its place was the frantic shuffling about in a rather somewhat reckless abandon all throughout, each and every move being made already making contact with the small dimensional boundaries surrounding the whole time no less. Next, the sounds of kicking and slapping were being instantaneously muffled and muted upon contact within, perhaps every decibel from the very noise pollution thereof just greatly reduced almost completely in under a minute. Then, there had appeared to be some fabric finding itself brushed up against it all, the jet black void was a witness to many things from within; without warning, footfalls had tapped onto the floor as if the walls were closing in. All that had remained was nothing short of a faint snuffle from the lone occupant, a small snort or two notwithstanding as the oxygen gotten sucked into its nostrils gently, slowly but surely metamorphosing into strained weeping. Suddenly, a loud plop had made itself known rather quickly, resounding against the hard floor upon the surface as the sudden wailing became more ghastly as it were slowly being interrupted by the choking fluids within the larynx.

All of the sudden, the pitch black space was quickly illuminated, giving the area some shred of identity to the finite environment almost instantly. A quartet of walls were padded with whiteness was already arranged in a strict pattern to be seen, save for some bars upon a window and a lone door. The floor was aligned in the formation of a checkerboard, save for the squared edges where their dimensions proved themselves to be anything else. Hanging from the ceiling was a diminutive lonely light bulb that had already dispersed so many photons in so little time by a fraction of a second. A simple pair of sandals were found to be resting soundlessly about at one of the corners within the walls laying aside with the heels touching them. The one element that flourished all about the place was oxygen, providing only life and energy to start the day in any form or fashion whatsoever.

Of course, there remained one solid figure that sat right directly in the middle, giving off a looming shadow that touched a nearby wall all at once. The individual had possessed a set of crimson locks, reflecting the very light that shown the way all too recently as they’d reached the nape of the neck. Its owner’s face was feminine, possessing a complexion free of all imperfections save for some small tears running upon the pale white integument. Underneath the redhead’s eyelids were a pair of hot pink circles running around the pupils as they were aligned into a rather solemn concave currently. Draped upon the torso was a big gray straightjacket, binding both of her arms around the chest as it was already worn over the thick white gown beneath. The redhead’s bare feet were the only things that had made contact with the cold floor, bound together by a pair of steel fetters all around both ankles.

Just as though the sounds of her respiration were all that kept her company, a new sound permeated throughout the dulled atmosphere: the erratic ringing of metal rapidly clanging against another resounded within both eardrums; suddenly, that echo had quickly subsided within due time. As if on cue, the redhead started to face the doorway nearby, looking outwardly out of expectation for some other individual to appear from the opposite side as she had rested upon the wall that stood adjacent to her back, a visage of melancholy now intermixed with trepidation soon. Both of her ears now stood on endwise as a series of footfalls were echoing about, its sound being of softened fabric treading lightly against the hard floor coming from outside the room that she was already in, sitting away from the very egress in preparation for whoever would enter here.

As the redhead remained slouched against the wall behind her, the light from the door was then instantaneously obscured, the outsider’s footsteps being replaced by the likes thin metals scraping about in a refrained legato of jingles followed a singular click that made a turnabout.

She closed her eyes as the crack in the door had started to grow wider a bit by the second, both ears wriggling about only to hear a tender voice entering them far too quickly, “good morning, Twist…”

“Huh…?” the eponymous redhead sighed, regaining the strength to shut out the blackness, “what day ith it…?”

“It’s Thursday; you should wash up now…” the visitor answered back, stepping in to face Twist at once.

At this moment, the redhead was now in the presence of another figure, the latter possessing a shadow that overtook the former’s body. She was able to find that she and the visitor shared one thing in common: they both had the same gender defining their physiological state. Nevertheless, the two women whom were present had many drastic differences that had already separated themselves rather instantaneously.

The figure in question whom had arrived to see Twist stood tall and corpulent, the source of the shadow’s dimensions in which the latter was made aware of. Unlike the redhead’s hair that was thick and frizzy, the visitor happened to possess many thin locks of purple and white tied up into a neat and sizable bun. Eyes belonging to the corpulent woman were a chilled blue, steadily focused upon the frail Twist with a neutral visage, devoid of emotions that the latter wore. The observant visitor had a drastically darker complexion, one that was rather reminiscent of copper alloys within a series of wires birds had resided upon. Compared to the redhead’s attire, the corpulent woman wore a white apron over the purple dress, marked by a single red cross with several hearts around it.

Seeing the lone visitor in question appearing made Twist whimper about, “they’re thtill here, aren’t they…?”

“The soldiers again already…?” the corpulent woman had asked the tepid redhead, “there’s no one here who could hurt you now…”

“At leatht when I’m awake, Thweetheart…” Twist replied, her eyes averting the aforementioned listener’s presence.

The visitor disregarded the redhead’s statement and began to approach the latter, speaking calmly, “maybe it’s best that you get some sunlight and fresh air but first, I believe that a little bath is in order…”

“What doeth it matter…?” Twist had squeaked out rather slowly, looking away from Sweetheart’s face, “no matter how much or often I clean mythelf, the blood… the blood… it only–––”

“Don’t worry about that: the last judgment is all that should matter; by then, you’ll be able to find forgiveness…” the corpulent woman had interrupted, catching the redhead with both arms as the latter wept onward.

Twist’s tears touched the woman’s textiles as the former cried, “how… jutht tell me how?! All that I’ll ever be known for is a math murderer and a traitor: I have no home, no friendth; even my mom can’t even vithit or at rather look me in the eye whenever we theem to meet…! The Princeth thould’ve allowed me to be put out of my fucking mithery inthtead; perhapth even Apple Bloom would thleep eathier knowing that a perthon like me won’t haunt the country any longer…!”

“Why would you still believe that…?” Sweetheart asked, grasping onto the redhead’s tresses at once, “do you think your death would be something that anyone would’ve been happy to celebrate, let alone satisfied with…?”

“Why elthe do I even hate my hair; becauthe the color of the liveth I had taken or the fact I can’t even look in the mirror without being reminded of my crimeth?!” Twist wept inwardly, still troubled.

The visitor looked upon the redhead’s face to find tears staining the visage and answered, “you may not have paid attention much often but they’re still people who care about you: while your mother confessed to feeling scared of you, it doesn’t mean that she hates you altogether; in fact, she was scared that you were going to die in this war. Whatever your fears were in that war, hers was similar: you’d thought she was dead and she’d thought of you the same way; the fact that you two had found each other alive was a miracle. I was able to keep a letter that your mom had sent a long time ago: it’s not much but I believe this could help change your mind a bit, besides, it’s not the first letter or the only letter anyway.”

“Where ith it; what does it thay…?” Twist instantaneously inquired as she’d watched the Sweetheart pull out a white envelope from the apron’s pocket, “ith that the one you’d just talked about…?”

“The one and only; do you still want to read it…?” the visitor had replied the redhead all too quickly.

A brief moment of silence made its way in between Twist and Sweetheart, occupying the oxygen they were currently breathing; soon, the former answered, “any more than I wish to see Apple Bloom’s smile again…”

“Okay then, but be quick about it; Snowy gets a bit antsy if I don’t finish my job fast enough…” the woman said as she’d started to open the letter right in front of the redhead’s eyes, “the sun’s has just rose from the horizon…”

“Thnowy…?” Twist choked out in confusion, a piece of paper slipping out from flat container in its folded form.

With a wall of text presented to the redhead, Sweetheart sat down by her side and spoke, “it’s my coworker’s nickname; she’s actually Snowheart…”

“You mean the thin nurthe with the makeup upon herthelf…?” Twist replied as she started to concentrate on the paper within the corpulent woman’s grasp, “I thought that her name wath Coldheart…”

“That too is also a nickname but don’t even let her hear you say that; she happens to be very defensive about her name…” Sweetheart countered as the redhead struggled to see what was in front.

Twist nestled her head towards the words nearby and began to read, “To My Dearest Daughter… I hope that this letter from me finds you well: the fact that you’re not there is nothing short of pure pain straight from the depths of Tartarus itself; of course, constantly reminded of what had been experienced during and after the war is expected. Hearing the other neighbors call me the mother of a mass murderer brought tears to my eyes: I can never forget the day you cried out for me as you were taken to court, treated like some ferocious monster that the papers made you out to be; I never saw you as one though. I wished I could’ve accompanied you on the way to see your friend, Apple Bloom down at the farm that day; at least, we would’ve both been spared of this entire mess but I did not. Now, I see what I have become of myself: a shell constructed of my failures as a mother forced to watch you grow up behind the walls of a sanitarium because of the lives you’d said to have taken during the war. While that I am lucky to not see you be put to death like a common traitor, it makes me wonder about my friend, Derpy and her daughter, Sparkler: the idea that the young lady treated so harshly made me picture your demise. Even I can’t help but feel sorry for Dinky too: the fact that she watched her sister be violated and murdered broke her and narrowly survive her mother strangling her the same way that Apple Bloom was by her own sister made me cry even harder. The days where I held you in your arms since you were born are no more than mere memories of the past, washed away and overshadowed by the present we live in where the future leads to the a cul–de–sac of endless despair. In spite of the blood and tears, there is still hope: your father is working on behalf of the Princess’ scholar, Twilight Sparkle, to have you leave the facility in due time, even though that I feel that neither of us will be around here to hold you again; I just wish that we can be able to put this horrid war behind us.

With love and best wishes

Mother.”

“You see, your parents still love you; that’s all…” the woman sighed as the redhead had reached the end of the letter, “it’s okay, you’re safe now…”

“What’s the point: I mean, haven’t you lithtened to what it thaid; why couldn’t they jutht end my thuffering already and be done with it?!” Twist cried as she remained slumped onto the floor, finding a singular hand resting upon her tresses.

Looking over to find the paper becoming threatened by the presence of tears, Sweetheart lifted up the note and said to the redhead, “Twist, you were allowed to live for a reason: Princess Celestia believed that the problems caused by the Prime Minister needed peaceful solutions. She said that doing so would take more than just rhetoric and ideals but also compassion and mercy: your survival, as controversial as it was, was to show that it was time to heal the country; after all, you were only a youth at the time. Even the scar over your heart has started to recover: while it had reminded me of the fact that you tried to take your own life, you were granted a second chance in spite of it. What we’re asking is that you let us do our job and help you; you may think that you don’t deserve this opportunity, but it doesn’t mean that you should allow yourself squander it altogether. Let me ask you something, Twist: suppose that you were able to leave this place at any given day, what would you rather do with your life, not just to survive but also how exactly would you make of it?”

“Well, before the war, I used to dream of making and thelling candy and other confectionerieth; you can thay that Bon–Bon inthpired me…” the titular woman answered with a smile before returning to frown, “now, with everything that happened here and there, who’d want to buy all that from thomeone with my credentialth…?”

“You know, the fact that you told me all this actually reminds me of another woman of similar repute, a young mother specifically…” the corpulent observer said so suddenly, prompting Twist’s ears to stand on endwise.

The redhead slowly looked Sweetheart in the eye and asked, “who was the; what wath the like…?”

“She was strong and helpful; reminds me of my friend Snowheart: her voice and the eyes were a dead giveaway…” the visitor replied, returning the letter back to the envelope almost immediately, “her name was Applejack…”

“You don’t think that–––” Twist attempted to speak, only to find Sweetheart nodding away almost instantaneously.

As the corpulent visitor resealed the note back into its proper place, she’d soon said, “yeah… she said that the reason she’d started fighting in that war was to save her young sister, Apple Bloom…”

“How could it be pothible?!” the redhead exclaimed all to quickly, “latht time that I’d theen Applejack, I’d thought that the wath dead…”

“Quite the contrary; although, here’s some advice if you happen to come across her anytime soon: please don’t touch her skin…” Sweetheart warned as she started to stand up and bring Twist along.

The redhead looked away again, this time towards the doorway and responded, “why not, Thweetheart…?”

“Two reasons, to be honest…” the eponymous woman had started to explain all at once, “since the war had changed her, she happens to punch out anyone that tries to lay a hand on her; also, she’s been fighting off a disease contracted during the war and it hasn’t been cured completely yet.”

“Ith it contagioth…?” Twist asked Sweetheart.

The corpulent visitor nodded again and replied, “afraid so; even worse, she passed it on to her child and he’s blind…”

“Oh my, that ith awful…” the redhead gasped as she attempted to walk towards the doorway, “I feel thorry for her.”

“I know, but don’t let that discourage you; just focus on today and this will all be a distant memory…” Sweetheart spoken to Twist while guiding the way out of the small room they were both once in.

A deep breath escaped from the redhead’s lips as she sighed, “I’ll try but I can’t promithe anything…”

“Don’t just do it for them; do it for yourself…” the corpulent guide said as they walked away, “that’s all only to be considered important…”

“Okay…” Twist whimpered as she was led out of the room, the tears from her pink eyes now evaporating.

At this moment onward, the two women followed the new source of light that came into their room. The redhead’s hot pink eyes were now focused firmly upon the new environment that awaited her. The words that Sweetheart had used long ago repeated into Twist's mind as the latter cracked a smile.