I first met her on what might have been the worst day of my life. It had been two long weeks since the Fall Formal when the reconstruction on the school entrance finally finished. The constant twelve hour shifts working with that construction crew were bad enough, but since the school didn't want to waste any more days, they'd opened up a week before we finished. Every time the harsh ringing of that bell resounded through the unfinished front entrance my heart sank, and the vile association of that sound would never go away. The flood of students through the entrance brought terrible tidings of harsh glares and even harsher words. The fear and respect I'd once struck in them was gone. After my embarrassing failure they had nothing to be afraid of, but they did have someone to take out their years of frustrations on.
Each day it got progressively worse. All the insults, rumors, and misery I'd put on them finally had an outlet. It started slowly, with the occasional whispers and quiet insults as they passed, but they were only testing the waters. Most of them knew I couldn't do anything anymore--the principals were both onto me and anything I tried would just extend my punishment--so I took it, just hoping it would be over before it got too bad. Hope wasn't worth much then. The quiet insults turned into open taunting. Those who didn't yell their worst slurs at me occasionally might have stayed to toss a few rocks at me to see if I'd react. It would be over soon, I told myself, I'd be done with this place and onto a new plan once no one could suspect it.
It was the last day of my punishment. With the last few bricks place my muscles were all completely worn down and constantly sore, unable to recover from the daily toil. The last bell rang as I was smoothing out some concrete. I instinctively winced, knowing this day would be the worst. This was their last chance to take out all their years of hate and resentment on their tormentor. Tomorrow they'd have to risk getting seen by a teacher, or at least someone who would actually bother to stop it.
I did my best to tune out the hateful chants, knowing I'd just have to take it all without a word. Freak, Bitch, Monster, She-Demon... they all had enough inflection and volume to pierce through my attempts to ignore them. I closed my eyes tightly and bit my tongue. At the beginning of the week, I would've thought of something witty to hurt them with, but now I just had to keep myself from begging them to stop. I certainly didn't feel like a princess' prized protege any longer.
I dammed up my emotions as well as I ever had. As long as I didn't let the hurt overtake me I'd be fine. The last of the students walked out beside me and tossed another nasty slur my way. A little more pressure against that dam, but I could've made it. Just a few more minutes and maybe... I guess it doesn't matter.
A harsh, wet pat against my cheek snapped my eyes open. I went stiff as my eyes traced over to see what was dripping off my face and onto my jacket. I knew what it was, but just didn't want to believe it. He laughed with his friends as his spit trailed down my skin. I slid down onto my knees and didn't even bother to wipe it off. My vision blurred as the tears trailed down right beside the saliva. I let it all go at that point. My whole body went numb as I stared blankly at the concrete in front of me. I didn't even have the energy to get out a sob.
I'd always had a high opinion of myself. I was one of the most powerful unicorns in Equestria at one point after all. I was on track to be a princess. That spit on my cheek though... nobody important had to deal with that. No one people respected or wanted to be friends with or wanted to forgive would have had that dribbling down their face. That disrespect told me just how much I mattered to the world. Everything they'd said about me, to me, over the past week, I couldn't even try to deny anymore.
At that moment all the work I'd done my entire life was meaningless. Everything I'd ever worked for, or wished for, it all amounted to this. I was meaningless. Like discarded trash, left to rot on the sidewalk until someone finally gets sick of it and tosses it out. I didn't have a friend in either dimension, and I was painfully aware of it..
She didn't bother to speak to me. Words wouldn't have really helped me anyway, I think. She slipped her hands around my shoulders and pulled me into her chest. I didn't know what she was doing at first. I expected the worst, but once I felt her arms around me I just accepted it. I didn't care who she was or what she wanted; in that moment she was the only one in the world who cared enough to comfort me, and with that she became my best friend. She stroked my hair and let me cry as if I was some lost child. She told me to let it out as she held me tight, so I listened.
Over and over she whispered into my ear, "You're not a monster, you're not a freak... you're nothing."
She let me cry against her until I couldn't cry anymore. I don't know how long I sat with her on those cold, concrete steps, but by the time I could finally regain my composure, the sun was already setting over the horizon. With the last few sobs gone, I actually felt better than I had in... years, I guess. I smiled at her as best I could, with makeup still running down my face and my hair in a mess, but it didn't seem like she cared much about my appearance. She didn't return the gesture. I asked for her name, but she remained silent. Finally, I commented on the wet spot on her shirt, trying to lighten the mood, but all she said was, "You should get home; it's going to get dark," in a monotonous tone.
I agreed with her and asked what she was going to do. She simply got up and walked towards the homeless shelter with me without a word. The entire way there, she didn't say anything either. Her quiet demeanor was comforting in a way, especially after the onslaught of insults I had to sit through every day. Her presence was enough to make me feel at ease, even if I knew it was only out of pity. I never thought she actually wanted to be friends with me, but I was so desperate to not be alone I would take anything.
When we finally got to that rundown building on the far side of town, I gave her a hug and told her how much what she did meant to me. I must've talked for ten minutes about how thankful I was, and how I would make it up to her, and how I would've liked to see her again. The entire time, her expression never changed. She never said a word until I was done except for a short, "See you tomorrow."
I couldn't really describe the feeling she left me with, but I knew that it took away the sadness from what I'd gone through that day. She never told me her name back then, but she meant more to me than anyone in the world. She was all I had and I couldn't let her go, even if I wanted to.
The next day she met me on the sidewalk on the way to school, silent as she'd been the previous day. I wanted to pepper her with questions, get to know more about her, but somehow I knew that wasn't going to work so soon. I resigned to studying her as we walked. Her appearance was almost unsettling, and an older me would've avoided her like the plague, but in my broken state I couldn't be so petty. I looked over her somewhat ragged clothes: her jeans had holes scattered through them, and her boots seemed like they'd been worn for a few years after most would throw them out. The colors of her outfit were dark and unwelcoming, as was her emotionless gaze as she walked beside me. Her short, dark hair bobbed above her shoulders, cleanly cut and windowing her pale face. She wore nothing but mascara to highlight her cold eyes, but the shine of a locket around her neck brightened her appearance. I wanted to ask about that too, but I figured I might get to know in time.
I was happy she bothered to walk with me at least; it brought me a little comfort under the shadow of what was coming to me that day. I'd been dreading it all the night before. The only hope I had was that "See you tomorrow" she gave me right before she left.
As soon as we walked through the doors it started. The malicious stares, the whispered insults, and the general toxic disdain the entire school had for me. I knew I deserved it, but every time those words registered it wore me down even more. When I finally heard that word again, I felt the tears forming at the edge of my vision. "Freak". Over and over it rang out again in my mind, and I wondered how much it was really worth trying to stay at this school. Who would really care if I'd turned around and left forever?
Just as I was about to really give up and leave, she took my hand. Her fingers wrapped around mine in a tender embrace, shocking the sadness from my system. I looked over at her, but she didn't look back. She just kept walking beside me, urging me to go on for some reason. Her gesture didn't really make me feel better, but it made the scorn from everyone else hurt less. I wasn't sure why she wanted to drag me through the main hall and hear the constant barrage of insults. To prove a point? Whatever it was, with my hand in hers, every insult stung a little less. The more I heard, the more they got drowned out. Part of me knew having her around like that would start even more rumors and make my situation even worse, but in her grasp I could hardly come to care. I clung to her like she was the only thing that mattered anymore.
The school days went on like that for a while. Most of the students gave me a wide berth, and I sat alone with her during lunch. Every now and then I'd catch a glance from the girls that took away my power during the Fall Formal. They always looked concerned, but not concerned enough to actually speak to me. My friend told me they didn't want to be friends, that they just felt sorry for me. I believed her.
As the days went on, it seemed we spent more and more time together. She would walk with me back to the homeless shelter after school, then join me on the walk back in the morning. I saw her more on the weekends as I had time to myself. The more time I spent with her the less time I spent trying other things. Homework became a thing of the past, and making other friends was a distant, abandoned hope. My grades slipped, and hope for any successful future slowly faded away. All of my old interests were forgotten about. I didn't even have hobbies anymore, but I didn't really care. I had her with me. Why would I need anyone else? Or at least, that's what she would tell me.
She let out the occasional bits about herself along our sparse conversations. I was surprised to learn how many other people she'd been friends with before me, and how many people hated her, too. Some people she used to be friends with slowly rejected her over time and avoid her like the plague now. She would never tell me why or what she did to deserve it. Every time I asked she said it didn't matter... and I believed her. I knew the feeling. I asked her about the other people she was still friends with, and she told me she still visits them from time to time, though they eventually send her away. She told me that all that mattered now was that she was with me. I believed her. I didn't feel like anything else mattered either. I knew I didn't deserve my classmates' respect, so I shied away from them, and didn't even bother trying to earn it back. I already had a best friend; I didn't need anyone else. They wouldn't want me anyway. That's what she told me at least.
One thing I never fully accepted about her was how cold she was. The more time I spent with her, the more I expected her to open up, but she never let conversations go past a few words. I'd always try to cheer her up and attempt to make her laugh, attempting to find a brighter side of life with her. It never worked. She always gave me that same look. It was never happy, but any hints of contempt were absent as well. As much as I tried to rub a happy demeanor off on her for both of our sake's, she ended up rubbing off on me more. I could only slowly accept the fact, and let her
Her expression hardly ever changed; that same, unfeeling gaze always fixed on something. Sometimes it was me. I could never tell her to look away, since I knew she wouldn't. Instead her gaze made me think over every little detail about myself, picking apart the things she probably disliked, the flaws I had, and how I might've not been worth it to her. I hated when she looked at me like that. It made me not want to be me anymore. Every second more that she stared was another second I thought she might realize how worthless I was and finally leave.
I was always terrified of that. Of her leaving me. I don't know what I would've done without her back then. She always talked about leaving too, but with me. She told me things would be better if we left together, and that eventually she was going to leave with someone else anyway if I didn't go. She told me how much better it would be if we left the high school, the town, the whole world behind and went somewhere else. She told me about how I didn't have anything to lose, and how much easier it would be if I was just gone.
I tried a few times. We had both gotten ready for the trip on multiple occasions, and I had made the decision to walk through that door with her, but for some reason I never did. I don't know why I never did. At times I wanted to so badly. She was the only thing I had, and she wanted me to go with her. She was going to leave eventually anyway, whether I went or not. Why would I say no? I still don't know why, but I always backed out. Every time we were seconds away from leaving Canterlot, I told her I couldn't, that it wasn't the right time, and that I still somehow wanted to keep living here for a little while longer. I always remember promising that I would leave with her someday, but just not then.
That was really the only time I saw some emotion on her face. She'd narrow her eyes and look down at me and ask what was wrong with me. She'd demand to know why I bothered staying here if no one else cared for me, and why I didn't just listen to her and leave already. I never had an answer for her. Every time I heard her voice rise slightly above its normal volume, and hold that slight hint of anger, I would break down and start sobbing again, just like I did on the first day we met. She wouldn't say anything after that. She'd just hold me like she always did and let me cry. I would cry because I was too weak to leave with her. I would cry thinking that this would finally be the time she got up and left me. Most of all, I would cry because I was lost, I was scared, and I felt like nothing.
The second to last time I almost left, I could feel the rift forming between us. The next few days after that she only came to see me a few times, and our already brief conversations were cut even shorter.
That was when the girls first came to me. Rainbow Dash and Rarity came first with a casual greeting and some odd small talk, with the rest of their friends to follow. My best friend didn't show up that day, so I didn't reject their company, even remembering what she said about them. It didn't matter if they didn't care or not. I just didn't want to be alone while she wasn't with me.
Over the course of that first lunch together, they were actually nice to me. At moments I had nothing to say back to them, being so surprised someone might actually be interested in me besides my best friend. Pinkie Pie actually invited me to a party, and the rest of them actually acted like they wanted me to be there. After all I'd done, I couldn't believe any of them wanted to be around me. I remember being especially awful to Rarity over the years, but she acted like nothing had ever happened between us.
After they all left, my best friend showed up, wondering what they were doing with me. I told her about the party and how nice they were to me. She looked at the slip of paper in my hands. I had written the time and address of that party on it. She reminded me that they never really cared about me and that this was probably just a ploy to make fun of me. She told me that they were just acting nice so they could trick me. I believed her. I knew I would rather spend time with her anyway. I left that day ripping that slip of paper to shreds and dumping it in the sidewalk trashcan.
I spent most of the day of that party on the roof of the school with her. We sat there with the occasional spout of conversation, but we mostly just watched the rest of the town from the edge of the roof. That was the last time I thought about leaving with her. Sitting on the edge of the roof, watching the sunset, that was the closest I ever came to giving in and going with her. I honestly believed her when she said those girls wanted nothing to do with me, that they really just wanted to get back at me for the hell I'd put them through. She told me that I didn't need to get hurt like that again, and that if I left with her she could promise that I would never have to worry about the harsh sting of their rejection.
It would've been so easy that day. I didn't need to take any of my belongings with me, and our trip out of town was already halfway through. I didn't know where she would take me once we left Canterlot, but it didn't matter. Once we left, I wouldn't have to worry about Canterlot anymore. I took one last look at that sunset from the roof then stood up. I almost said yes. My mouth opened with the syllable to finally tell her what she wanted to hear, but it caught in my throat. I remember being so sure that I would finally go that day, and finally be free from the everything I'd gone through in that town. We would walk out of this city together off to somewhere better, or at least somewhere I wasn't so hated. I still couldn't do it. I don't know why, but I just couldn't leave with her. I walked back to the stairs in tears after I gave her another choked up no.
The next few days I ignored my best friend's words about the girls. They said that they understood that I couldn't make it, and didn't ask any further about it. They invited me again to do something with them after school and I said yes. I didn't care if they really just wanted to put me down even more, I was willing to risk it. I just wanted to hold onto the hope that maybe I could make friends other than my best friend. If I failed, then I failed. If I couldn't make any more friends, I didn't see why I should keep saying no to her about leaving, but I had to at least try. At least find a reason I kept telling her no.
Over the next few months the girls were actually sincere with me. They hardly ever brought up my past transgressions, and when they did they immediately apologized as if they actually cared about my feelings. Their bright, cheery demeanor and playful attitudes were a welcome change after spending so much time with my best friend.
The more time I spent with them, the less time I spent with her. I wanted us to all be friends, but she wouldn't have it. She eventually told me she used to be friends with Fluttershy, back when I would bully her constantly, but Fluttershy was one of the people that wouldn't give her the time of day anymore. She told me that Fluttershy almost left with her a few times, but would do the same thing I did and stayed for some reason she couldn't fully explain. Now she hardly ever sees Fluttershy anymore. I was getting to be that way too. Not out of malice, but just because the more time I spent with my new friends the less I thought about her, and the less she showed up. I gave up trying to introduce her to the rest of my friends. She wouldn't end up getting along with them anyway.
By the end I never wanted her to go, but I knew my time with her was coming to a close. She never made me happy like my new friends would, but she at least always stayed with me when I needed her. The company was enough back then, but now I felt more lonely than ever when I was with her and not with the girls.
I think she knew that too. She never told me, but I could tell this was how she left her other friends too. They just stopped having time for her or moved on to friends that gave them something more fulfilling. Friends that gave them a reason not to leave with her.
Before the last day I saw her, we'd spent three weeks apart. She finally came to me on one of those lonely walks home, where I thought back to those first days of meeting her, and how some of the students still felt that way about me. I remembered all those insults, and how worthless I felt. Lost in my thoughts, I was surprised to see her stop me on the sidewalk that day.
She told me we couldn't be friends anymore. I asked her why, but she said I already knew why. I guess I did, but I wasn't ready to completely let go of her, or for her to let go of me. She said it was time, and that it had to happen with us eventually, just like the rest of her older friends. She told me that the others either left with her, or they grew apart from her. When I asked, she said most people chose the latter.
I gave her one last, teary hug before she said goodbye, and I started my new life without her. Surprisingly, she returned it tightly. She didn't say anything, but the warmth of that final hug eased the pain of us going our separate ways. I knew I would be happier without her, but it was still hard letting go after being with her for so long. When our embrace ended, she tore the locket off her neck and handed it to me. She said it was important, and that I should value it and keep it safe. I asked her what it was. All she said was "It's nothing."
That was the last thing she ever said to me. With that, she turned around on the sidewalk and walked out of my life. I yelled a heartfelt goodbye after her, but she didn't even turn around.
After a while of looking at it and thinking about all the time we spent together, I finally opened that locket.
"Nothing," she said.
It was a picture of me.
I knew some day we might meet again. One awful day, maybe after graduation where I'd have to move away from my new friends and feel that loneliness and worthlessness again. One day I knew I'd need her again, and that she'd be there to lend me a shoulder to cry on. One day I know she's going to ask me to leave with her again, and I really didn't know if I would tell her yes or not. I remember all the times I promised her that I would someday. Looking back now I really hope that I won't, that I'll always have some reason to tell her no. But there's no telling how life can go.
She had a lot of names to a lot of people. Every one of her friends thought of her as something different, even though she was the same thing. I remember who she was to me. I remember it as clear as those horrible feelings on the dark nights I spent thinking about leaving with her. Her name still rings in my head occasionally, and I fear the day I might see her again after all this time apart. Her name stuck to my bleakest thoughts and most hopeless moments.
My best friend's name was Misery.
