You Can't Always Get What You Want

by bookplayer

Rating: everyone
Tags: Drama, Equestria Girls, Sunset Shimmer, Zecora
Length: 7479

After the Fall Formal, Principal Celestia discovered that Sunset has been living in the school clock tower. Now Sunset needs to find someone willing to take in a teenager whose issues have magic powers, and beggars can't be choosers.

After her little magic trick at the Fall Formal, Sunset Shimmer is not having the best night, and it's about to get worse: Principal Celestia just found out that Sunset has been living in the school clock tower. Now she has nowhere to live, and who's going to take in a teenager with personal issues that include recent demonic possession? No one normal, obviously.

But... maybe someone with a mohawk, a house full of creepy masks, and blue eyes that seem to see more than words -- or rhymes-- can say.

Winner of the Writeoff Association's February WriteOff, "Look, I Can Explain."

Published 2016-08-21 18:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-08-21 18:10:02 UTC

There's No Place Like Home. Literally.

My plan for world domination failed, I turned into a demon and ripped a hole the school, and now I’m sitting in the principal’s office. I guess the night is improving, but only because I’m pretty sure it literally could not get any worse.

Principal Celestia is frowning at me. In my mind, I can see the same expression on the face of the princess I grew up with. It’s the kind of expression that most people walk around with every day, but on the face of either version of Celestia, it says so much more.

I thought I didn’t care about this. Obviously I was wrong, because this is somehow the perfect, awful accent to my night. I ruined my entire life. Even if… even if Twilight Sparkle is right, even if the girls at school can teach me the magic of friendship, everyone else in the world hates me. Or is scared of me.

Or… is disappointed in me.

The clock on the wall ticks. Principal Celestia sighs. The room smells like paper and her perfume, a light lilac scent that reminds me of the gardens in Canterlot. I wish I was there. I wish I was a foal again, with my life ahead of me and the chance to do everything differently. The wishing hurts, like staring into the sun, but I keep drifting back to it.

Principal Celestia speaks, breaking the silence, “Sunset… where do you live?”

The question clears my mind. I wasn’t expecting it right now, with the whole front of the school blown open. I gawk at her for a moment, then sputter, “I… um, with my parents?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Do your parents have an address?”

I bite my lip and look down. Nothing good is going to come of this, but I don’t have the strength to come up with a lie. And... I don’t want to lie to her. I want her to be Princess Celestia, and I want to try to explain everything to somepony who knows magic and ponies. Somepony who knows me.

But this Celestia isn’t that pony.

“It’s… a weird situation.”

“I got that impression,” she says with a nod. “I also get the impression that someone has been staying in the school clocktower.” She gestures to the corner behind me, next to the door.

Looking over my shoulder, I see a black trash bag sitting there. I cringe as I guess what’s inside. Could it be… everything I own in the world?

“It was a hunch,” she says calmly. “I thought this warranted adding to your student file, but I was surprised to find that you aren’t technically a student here. Since you attend every day, it seemed likely that you were staying someplace nearby. Of course, this isn’t acceptable.”

Great, now I’m homeless, too. As I turn back, I cover my eyes with my hand, trying to think of what I’ll do. “I can find someplace else.”

She’s quiet for a moment. I glance up, and it seems like that’s what she was waiting for because she looks me in the eye and says, “You can talk to me.”

“I… really can’t.” I sigh, and look out the window at the moon. Even after the whole demonic performance tonight, telling people I was born a unicorn in a magical world of talking ponies is probably a ticket to a room with rubber walls. Though that would take care of where I'm sleeping tonight.

“You have to.” The frown returns to Principal Celestia’s face, stern this time. “Sunset, I’m looking at a teenaged girl who’s been squatting on school property, and clearly engaged in… some kind of delinquency. As an educator, it’s my responsibility to make sure that you’re safe, and to make sure that you’re getting the guidance you need. I should call Child Protective Services.”

Her frown melts away, and what’s left on her face as she goes on is nothing but pure concern, “On the other hand… the nature of that delinquency makes this, as you put it, a weird situation. I need to know more, so I can do what’s right to help you.”

Somehow, that hurts worse. I can see that look on the princess’s face too. She tried. It didn’t work. She’s the most powerful being in a world of magic users, she’s immortal, she raises the sun, and even she couldn’t help me.

“You can’t,” I whisper.

She studies my face. I think she’s trying to decide if I’m being a bratty teenager, or if there’s a reason I’m saying that. “Sunset, what do you want to happen?”

I shake my head and lean back in the chair. I want to not be such a screw-up. I want to be Twilight Sparkle, and be perfect and make everyone love me. I want to be Princess Celestia’s favorite student. I want to be a foal in Canterlot, so I can have a chance at those things.

I’m not a foal, and I’m not going back to Canterlot. So what do I want here?

“I just want someplace to stay. Someplace where no one hates me or thinks I’m a freak. I doubt there’s anyone who qualifies after this.” I close my eyes. I don’t know, I probably want more than that, but I can’t think of it right now.

I hear her voice, calm and even. “Do you want to stay at Canterlot High?”

A vision of trying to come to school on Monday crosses my mind. It’ll be like a gauntlet of hate down every hallway and in every classroom, and I’ll deserve it. I can’t do it. There’s no way. I don’t want it. I want to be a foal again…

Then I remember Twilight’s friends. She said they can teach me that magic, and I want to learn it. Not because it’s powerful, but… because it looks like what I always wanted.

“I… I guess I do…” I open my eyes, and she’s looking at me expectantly. “I think I can make friends here.”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize how stupid that must sound to her. Like, this is the absolute worst place on the planet for me to try to make friends. On two different planets, in fact.

But, that’s kind of why I want it. Twilight’s friends know about her, so they probably know about me. And having someone who actually knows me would be… well, a start.

“Look, this is going to sound crazy,” I blurt out before Principal Celestia can say anything. I have no idea what I’m going to say.

She nods. “I’m prepared.”

“I’m from another dimension. The same one Twilight Sparkle was from.” I decide to leave out the whole talking ponies thing. Maybe I’m not quite ready for some people to know everything about me right now.

Principal Celestia raises an eyebrow. “A dimension with magic, I take it.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “And I think… some of the kids here… well, maybe they’d understand me.”

She leans back in her chair, studying me. “So, you don’t have parents in this world.”

“No, I… don’t have parents in either world, actually.” I bite my lip hard. It hurts, but it keeps me from thinking too much. Shaking my head clear, I try to get back to the issue at hand. “But back there, I was considered an adult. I can take care of myself, really, I just don’t have a way to get set up here.”

“I’ll keep all of that in mind, along with your recent behavior, but I need some time to consider this.” She tilts her head, still looking at me.

Giving a small shrug, I nod.

Then she says, “For tonight you can stay with me.”

My head snaps towards her, my eyes wide. That was not what I was expecting to hear. “After I…?”

Principal Celestia nods. “If I wasn’t willing to take responsibility for you myself, there wouldn’t be anything for me to consider, would there?”

I just stare at her. Something in the back of my mind starts to wonder if maybe… I could be her student again. But that’s dumb because I am her student, and because she’s not Princess Celestia, and because an hour ago I turned into a demon and tried to make the other kids my mind-controlled minions. Just because she’ll let me sleep on her couch, which is really awesome, doesn’t mean she’s going to train me in the arts of… running a high school.

Celestia, I can be an idiot sometimes.

Finally, I swallow, since I should say something. “I guess not.”

With that, we get up and head back outside. I can hear the music from the dance still going on, but out here it’s quiet. It doesn’t feel peaceful, though, between the crater that I made when I fell, the jagged hole in the school, and the statue that was Twilight’s portal back to Equestira, echos of the night seem to crowd the school yard.

I already cleaned up some of the mess, before Principal Celestia called me into her office, but we stay late with Vice Principal Luna, getting done as much as we can. By the time we leave, it’s way after the dance has ended.

The next morning, I wake up in a soft bed under a fluffy white cotton comforter. Through the door, Princess Celestia’s voice is calling, “Sunset Shimmer, it’s time to get up!”

As I drift out of sleep, I’m in Canterlot again, probably late for a class. I can smell the lilacs in the garden outside the window of my room.

But then it comes to me that my weird dream wasn’t the dream, and I open my eyes to see the guest room in Principal Celestia’s house, with its pale blue carpet and shiny white modern furniture.

“I’m sorry, Principal Celestia. I’ll be out in a minute!” I call back, tossing the blanket off and digging in the trash bag for my leggings. I throw some clothes on and head out to the hall.

Principal Celestia’s house is gorgeous. It’s big, with high ceilings and tons of windows, and everything is decorated in bright pastel colors, like living in a rainbow shining from behind a gauzy curtain. I make my way down the hall, and downstairs towards the living room she showed me last night.

As soon as I walk in I stop. There’s someone else here, and… she couldn’t look less like she belongs here.

Sitting on the pale yellow couch, across from Principal Celestia in her armchair, is a gray woman with hair shaved into a black mohawk, except for heavy black bangs swept across her forehead. As she turns to look at me, I see her clear blue eyes, her dark lipstick, and the darker gray markings on her cheek like some kind of tattoo.

Principal Celestia smiles and motions to the woman. “Sunset, there’s someone here I’d like you to meet.”

“Hi…” I say, raising a hand in a half-hearted wave.

The woman stands. She’s tall and holds herself with a stately grace, almost more than Principal Celestia does in this world. She reminds me of a princess, but I’ve never seen a princess who looks anything like that. She’s wearing loose black pants and a white t-shirt with a zebra print vest, and a bunch of thick gold rings around her neck like a collar.

She smiles, and her eyes twinkle as she nods at me. “Sunset Shimmer, I see. How do you do? Principal Celestia has told me of you.”

“I’ve been better.” I frown. She knows about me already.

She offers me a sympathetic look. “She and I are old friends, Zecora’s my name. There’s no need for concern, I’m not here to blame.”

I look over at Principal Celestia, confused. Did her friend just stop by, or is she here because of me? And does she really always talk like this?

Principal Celestia smiles at me. “I told Zecora what I know, and what you told me. She lives here in town, and she’s willing to take you in.”

Zecora nods, still smiling. “My house is much smaller than Celestia’s place, but I’ll squeeze you in, if you don’t mind the space.”

We aren’t going to talk about her rhyming all the time? Wait, that rhymed. Is it contagious? Just what I need, a freaky magic rhyming disease to go with my newly ruined reputation. Okay, I’m not rhyming now, so I probably don’t need to worry about that.

I take a breath and process what they just said. Looking at Zecora, I raise an eyebrow. “You’ll just let me stay with you?”

“Zecora would act as your guardian,” Principal Celestia answers. I give her a protesting look, and she explains, “She understands your situation, but until you’re legally an adult here you’ll need someone who’s responsible for you. Zecora will let you live with her, she’ll make sure you have food and necessities, and she’ll help you get on your feet so that when you turn eighteen you’ll have no problem finding a place of your own.”

A frown crosses my face. I don’t know what I was hoping, but it wasn’t a weird rhyming babysitter. I almost can’t believe that Principal Celestia found someone else willing to take me in after last night. I mean, I guess it makes sense that Principal Celestia would take me in, she’s Celestia. This woman with a mohawk is not Celestia.

I raise an eyebrow at Zecora. “You know what I did?”

She nods, still calm and smiling, and says, “Magic, I’ve heard, and dark magic too, but I’m not afraid of someone like you. Our world is more than this earth and this sky, and there’s more to most things than can be seen with the eye.”

We look each other in the eye, and I see something in hers. Like she thinks something is funny. Not like a joke, more like… she knows something that makes everything else seem silly. I don’t like it, nothing in my life is silly right now.

I turn back to Princess Celestia. “I… I don’t mean to be rude, but… I don’t even know her.”

Principal Celestia raises an eyebrow. “I told you, she’s a very old friend of mine. You don’t think I would have called her if I didn’t trust her completely, do you?”

I want to argue, but I don’t really have a leg to stand on, and insulting either of them would be a bad look on me right now. I change tactics and make my eyes as large as I can. “Can’t I just stay with you?”

She shakes her head firmly. “I’m afraid that would be a conflict of interest for me. I need to administer the school fairly, and taking in a student who caused a disruption like that would look bad to the other students, not to mention their parents and the school board. I’m already trying to deal with quite a bit of fallout from that.”

“And you claim she can’t help you, if her words are true.” Zecora raises an eyebrow at me, that smile still on her face. “Perhaps from another, you could learn something new.”

I rub a hand over my face. I seriously doubt this crazy woman has anything to teach me, and the rhyming is going to drive me nuts! But… I’m not sure there’s anything I can do. I mean, who else in town is even going to give me a room?

Finally, I take a deep breath and look at them. “Well… okay. I mean, thank you, Zecora. I really appreciate this.”

She laughs. “I know you do child, I really do know. Now pack up your things, and home we will go.”

This is really happening. I’m really going to live with the crazy lady. I try to smile sadly. “That would be great, but I kinda need to help with fixing the school.”

“I’ve called in a work crew. You and I will talk about some other things you can do around school to help make it up to everyone.” Principal Celestia smiles. “You should go ahead and get settled in.”

“Okay… great.” No one else says anything, so I go and grab my trash bag and haul it through the clean bright rooms and across the nicely kept lawn to where Zecora is waiting. I toss it in her beat-up old car and get in next to her, and leave Principal Celestia’s house with the weirdest being — human or pony — that I’ve ever met.

A little while later I see Zecora’s house, which I should have expected and why is this my life?

It’s on the edge of town, a tiny old building. It’s not a shack, it’s kept up… in its way. The first thing you see is the tree. A giant tree that looks older than the town, its branches spread low and hung with bottles and wind chimes. They clink and tinkle as we pass it, walking to the porch hidden behind it. Other than the tree, the yard is full of big bushes of lavender and rosemary, and patches of other herbs. Up three steps from the yard is a big porch, and that’s full of plants too, in dozens of different kinds of flower pots and a few things that aren’t even supposed to be flower pots.

Then we walk inside and it gets even better. We’re in a tiny room with a narrow staircase on one side and a fireplace on the other, and the air is thick with the scent of incense and wood smoke. The floor is wood and covered with some kind of woven grass rug. There’s an old couch with a black and green throw on the back, and a few creaky old wicker chairs with satiny green and black cushions. That’s the normal stuff.

On every single wall, there are two or three creepy tribal masks. Where there aren’t masks, there are shelves with books stacked between weird idols and statues, and bottles of every size and color. And from what I can glimpse of the other rooms, the whole “bottles and things that stare at you” decorating theme is carried through the rest of the house. I can’t wait to see my room.

“This is an… interesting place,” I say, raising my eyebrows at a mask that’s half the size of my body. It has a black furrowed brow and an angry mouth.

Zecora chuckles. “I see you’re shocked, no need for backpedaling. I’m well aware it can seem unsettling. I collect things on travels and my visits home, as I gather wisdom from places I roam.” She lays a gray hand on the mask I’m examining. “While things may seem scary in places I peek, nothing here is dark, just sometimes… unique.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “Unique is a good word for it.”

“Follow me to your room, it’s right down this hall. I’m afraid that you’ll find it’s the size of a stall.” She leads me through a door at the back of the room, into a short hallway lined with more of the masks, except for at the end where there’s a big mirror framed in weird carvings. She stops right in front of the mirror and motions to a door. “It’s empty right now, I cleaned out my collection, so you have a blank slate to choose your direction. But I have all sorts of things you're welcome to use, so dress the place up however you choose.”

“Uh… thanks,” I say. I’m glad she cleaned it out, but I’m not sure she’ll have much for me to decorate with. I really don’t want most of her stuff watching me sleep.

When I open the door, I see that she’s right; the room is tiny. There’s a single bed and a nightstand, a desk and a dresser. That’s about it right now. The window is in the shade, looking out at a vegetable garden and some thick woods behind it.

Stepping through the door, there’s barely room for me and my trash bag of stuff. I sling the bag on the bed.

“I’ll let you unpack the items you bring.” She smiles and turns to go. “Just give me a yell if you need anything. I’ll go upstairs and look in my chest and try to pull out things that you might like best.”

I look around the room again as she leaves. It smells like incense in here too, but lighter than the rest of the house. Something crisp, like sage. I start pulling things out of my bag, putting the clothes in drawers, hanging dresses in the closet that’s crammed in one corner. My books go on the dresser, and I toss my faded old blanket on the bed. All that’s left in the bottom of the trash bag is some paper— a poster from my first fall formal, pictures of Twilight from a few days ago. That stuff can stay in the bag when I toss it in the trash.

The room still looks empty, but… now it’s mine. And I guess it’s better than the clock tower.

After a while, I head back out to the living room, where I find Zecora. Fabric is draped over all the furniture, with more of it piled by the stairs, like some kind of exotic bazaar.

Bizarre is a good word for this place.

She smiles when she sees me looking around. “A blanket and curtains are the first things you need. I’m sure in this mess you’ll find something your speed.”

Nodding, I take a look. I have to admit… a lot of the things are really cool. There’s stuff in patterns and styles from all over the world, rich tapestries and silk, roughly woven wool, thin, filmy cotton. The first thing that catches my eye is a shiny red fabric, woven with a gold pattern. Looking more closely, it’s a set of curtains.

“Can I use these?”

“Of course you can. That was the plan,” she says.

They get folded and laid to the side, and I look at the other things for a blanket to match. There are a few in similar fabric, but something about them feels wrong. There are some I like that would clash, like a lavender paisley blanket in light cotton. Then I see one on a chair, red and black and gold geometric patterns. It’s a totally different style, but something about it just seems right.

I point to it and raise my eyebrows at Zecora.

She raises her eyebrows back at me. “A very fine choice, if I say so myself. It pained me to keep that away on a shelf. It’s a kente cloth, from my native land. My mother made it herself, by hand.”

“If you don’t want me to use it…” I say quickly, “I mean, what if I spill something on it?”

“Oh, I have others, so no need to fret.” She waves a hand at me. “I’d be happy to get some use of that yet.”

“If you’re sure…” I say, and she nods, so it goes in the pile with the curtains.

Since I can’t think of anything else I need fabric for, I start folding things up. Zecora does too, stacking the colorful bundles next to the stairs. I can’t help looking at each of them and thinking about how many places Zecora must have been, and how many different cultures and people she must have seen. I wonder just how much she has seen, now that I think about it. She didn’t even blink when she talked about what I’d done. In fact, she had that look, like she knew something no one else did.

I look down at the cloth I’m folding, and I almost throw it across the room when I see a unicorn staring back at me.

I mean, looking at it more closely, he doesn’t look like a real unicorn. He’s thinner than any stallion I’ve seen, and he has a long face like a horse. But there are paintings in the Canterlot Portrait Gallery that look like that, from back before Hearth’s Warming. For a moment I wonder if he was somepony important, before I remember that this is the wrong world for that.

“I thought that one might catch your eye. You should take it with you and give it a try.” Zecora says, standing right next to me.

I look at her and raise my eyebrow.

“It was just a thought, in the end it’s your call. If you don’t need a blanket, it could hang on your wall.”

I look down at it again and smirk. I kind of like the idea of having it in my room, so I walk it over to my pile and lay it on top.

Zecora and I finish folding all the fabric, and piling it by the stairs, returning the room to its creepy mask glory. Then she pulls something off a shelf from under a stack of books. It’s a dusty laptop computer.

She holds it out to me. “Here, take this, though I’m afraid it’s not new. But for homework and such, I’m sure it will do. And I know you’ll need more to have or to wear, so think of those things, but I ask you take care. I’m afraid I can’t spend much on fancier stuff, but I will see to it, you’ll at least have enough.”

I take the computer, but the mention of homework makes me cringe. I can’t think of school right now, it makes my stomach twist. I can just see the faces of all the other kids when I walk through the door Monday... or the gaping maw of wreckage where the door should be. I hate my life.

Zecora frowns. “I think there is something that you want to say? Perhaps you’d be happier some other way?”

“Huh? Oh no, this is fine, Zecora…” I sigh. None of that is Zecora’s fault, and when it comes down to it, she’s being nothing but cool to me. “I really do appreciate it. All of it. I don’t mean to be… like I am.”

She lays a hand on my shoulder. “Places between almost never sit well. What you’re meant to be like, I know time will tell.”

“I hope so… Right now I just feel…” I don’t even know what I feel. I don’t know how to explain it, and her hand on my shoulder just feels comforting and wrong at the same time. I shake my head and take a step towards the hall. “I’m just going to take this stuff to my room, and I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

With a nod she walks over to the pile of cloth and picks it up, turning to go upstairs. I head back to my room to use the things she gave me to put it together.

The next morning, I drift out of sleep in a fog of confusion. Everything seems strange; my blanket doesn’t feel right, and my room doesn’t smell right. When I open my eyes I see see fiery red draped over the window, and a strange unicorn looking down at me from the wall next to my bed.

It takes me a moment to remember where I am, and when I do I give a sigh. I’m in this weird house with weird Zecora, and it’s Sunday, which means tomorrow I get to wander through the broken pieces of my life.

Getting out of bed isn’t sounding real appealing at this point.

I look at the unicorn on the tapestry hanging on my wall. I wonder if he has a name?

If he does, he’s not going to tell me. I decide he was Candleflame. I know I read about some unicorn with that name in a history book once. I don’t remember what his cutie mark was, so I decide it was a candle, because I’m really creative like that. I make him a magical scholar in the court of King Diamond, and he was an ancestor of mine. He was a really powerful unicorn, and everypony loved him, until he did something dumb and got himself banished to the human world. Everyone here hated him and he never did anything else. The end.

I bury my face in my pillow.

There’s a knock at my door.

“I don’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry to knock, but I remembered that you don’t have a clock. It’s half past ten, if you wanted to wake, but don’t feel you need to get up for my sake.”

“Thanks, Zecora.” I call back. I guess this is as good a time as any to get up.

I pull myself out of bed slowly. My room actually looks pretty good, with all the red and gold everywhere. I think about painting my walls, like, a really light orange. It might make everything seem warm, like a fire. Like living inside a phoenix egg or something.

As I go to pull off my pajama top, I decide I need a shower. Zecora showed me the bathroom yesterday, so I grab a change of clothes and head down the hall.

The bathroom is tiny, like all the other rooms in this house. It’s tiled in white, but it seems old; there’s a pedestal sink and and a tiny shower stall, and a toilet of course. There’s also a shelf with folded towels and a ton of bottles. Most of them have handwritten labels. I find one marked shampoo, then I undress and turn on the shower.

The pipes creak in protest and sputter a few times before they finally get the message and water shoots out. I adjust the temperature a little and step into a hard, steady stream of warm water.

For a minute, it feels like heaven. I feel clean and new, washing away everything that happened with a bar of soap from the soap dish. But that doesn’t last long. It’s an illusion. Maybe I can pretend in the cloudy steam of the bathroom, but in the real world everything is solid, and I solidly messed up.

Images flash through my mind. Walking up to the school tomorrow and seeing everything I did. The hallways hushing as I walk by, the other kid's stony faces avoiding me as I try to get my books and go to class. Twilight’s friends looking at me and whispering, trying to decide if what Twilight wanted is worth talking to someone who, let’s face it, tried to kill them. It’s probably not.

I could try to go up to everyone and say I’m sorry, but… what do I even say?

Sorry I tried to make half of the senior class my zombie slaves. I kind of have some issues I’m working through. But you can borrow my geometry notes whenever you want!

I press my head against the cool tile wall of the shower, and I let myself cry. This is stupid. Why am I trying? I’m not like them, I’m not a normal high school kid, and I’m not a good, perfect Princess of Equestria. I should have gone back to Equestria and been sent to Tartarus.

After a good cry, I decide I should stop using up all of Zecora’s hot water on my pity party.

Forcing myself to pull it together, I wash my face again to get rid of the tears. I step out of the shower, and towel off, and get dressed. All of it feels like pushing a boulder up a hill, and it’s only eleven o’clock. I have a whole day of pushing ahead of me! Then tomorrow I get to work on the really big hill.

As I walk out of the bathroom, I slam the door behind me. Then I cringe, because the door didn’t do anything, and neither did Zecora, whose door it is. The creepy masks on the wall in front of me don’t look impressed, anyway.

Turning to go back to my room to put on my shoes, I see my face in the mirror at the end of the hall. My hair is wet and my face is clean and I look absolutely miserable.

I hope Zecora is ready, because I’m going to be a blast to be around today.

I end up spending most of the day on my computer. I keep trying to stop, but I can’t help stalking people from Canterlot High. Everyone is talking about it. There are some posts about how much fun the dance was, but mixed in with those there are plenty about me.

“Can you believe Sunset? I knew she was a jerk, but I didn’t think she had jerk magic!”

“OMG, Sunset is in my chemistry class! She CAN’T be coming back to school, right?”

“Isn’t it the worst when you think you have the perfect dress, and you get to the dance and some other girl TURNS INTO A RAGING SHE-DEMON?!!”

And, my personal favorite:

“I wasn’t surprised, that’s pretty much what happened when she broke up with me. LOL.”

Thanks, Flash. Hilarious.

...and kinda true. I mean, maybe I wasn’t sprouting bat wings and breathing fire, but I really was awful to him.

I’ve been awful to everyone. No wonder they feel like this is their chance to talk about it and make fun of me. I can’t blame them for never wanting to see my face again.

The evening sun is shining through my window as it sets. I feel like I can see it moving lower, every minute bringing me closer to tomorrow. I don’t want it to come. I wish this world had a Princess Celestia, I’d beg her to stop. Just stop the sun. Stop time. Just until I figure out how to make everything right again.

A knock on my door.

“Yeah?” I call.

“Dinner is ready, if you’d like to eat. I made jambalaya, and it’s quite a treat.”

“I’m not hungry.” I frown and glance at the screen again.

There’s a pause. “You said nothing at lunch, and you haven’t since. Did I say something to cause some offense?”

“No, Zecora.” I sigh. “I just… don’t want to talk right now.”

“Very well then, I will leave you to gloom. But first, may I see what you’ve done with your room?”

Leaning my head back and looking at the ceiling, I give another sigh. “Sure. Come on in.”

The door opens, and Zecora looks inside. She smiles at the curtain and the bedspread, then steps in to look at the tapestry of Candleflame.

I cover my face with my hand, hoping that she leaves soon.

“This is quite nice, I like it a lot. I think orange paint would cheer up this spot.”

That’s what I was thinking earlier, but I don’t want to tell her that. Then she might think I want to talk about painting, which I might if my whole life wasn’t over.

She’s still looking at the tapestry, and tilts her head, considering it. “I hope this was something you wanted to take. You didn’t hang it here just for my sake?”

“No, I like it,” I say. Why is she standing there? Why isn’t she leaving?

With a nod, Zecora turns and grins at me. “Even when far and wide we might roam, we all need a few things to remind us of home.”

I just sit there for a moment, because my mind is totally unable to believe she said what I thought she said. I replay it a few times to be sure. Then I look at her, and she’s smiling at me, with that laugh in her eye.

My mouth works without speaking, before I finally remember how to make sounds. “What— what makes you say that?”

Zecora reaches out and runs a hand along the border of the tapestry. “I’ve heard many tales, they are just stories, mostly. But through them a thread runs, if you listen closely. It seems many legends of magic and dreams have running through them an… equestrian theme?” She looks over at me with a raised eyebrow.

My mouth is hanging open, and I can feel myself shaking. She knows. She knows.

“You know I was a unicorn.” My voice is barely a whisper. Oh Celestia, what if I’m wrong? She’s going to think I’m nuts.

She chuckles. “I didn’t know, but I made a guess. I supposed it was that or a pegasus.”

I give a laugh, but not a real one. Honestly, I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry. “You know about Equestria?”

She walks over to me, laying an arm over my shoulder. “Not as you do, I promise you that. All that I know is legend, not fact. But stories I’ve heard, and some may be true. It’s one of the reasons I want to help you.”

I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”

“You close yourself off, to better defend. But that is no way to let yourself mend. You are in pain, that’s clear to me, but it comes from places you won’t let others see. I am your friend, and I’ve been called wise; with me there’s no reason to hide behind lies. In that darkness lines blur, between wrong and right. I can give you the chance to step into the light.” She gives me a squeeze.

She knows. Someone knows I’m a pony. And she doesn’t think I’m crazy, and I could just… talk to her. She wants to help me. And she knows what I did, and I could explain why… I could tell her about my parents, and about Princess Celestia, and what I really want.

I feel like I’m a filly again. My voice is shaking, and there are tears in the corners of my eyes as I say, “Zecora? Can I… talk to you for a minute?”

“Whenever you wish, I’m always near, and whatever you say I’ll be happy to hear.” She sits on my bed, waiting patiently.

Where do I start? What if this still sounds crazy to her? There’s so much to explain, it’s a whole different world…

I take a deep breath and just start talking.

“Everything in Equestria is magic. Ponies are magic, the weather is magic, the animals and plants… even the sun and moon are raised and lowered with magic. And unicorns… we can control magic even more than other kinds of ponies. When I was a foal, I got accepted to go to a school for the most magically gifted unicorns. It was run by Princess Celestia. She’s immortal, she’s the pony who raises the sun every day.”

I glance over at Zecora. She looks amused, and I can’t help giving a little smile too.

“Everypony was really proud of me, and I was doing really well. But... “ I swallow and look down, biting my lip hard. Then I take a breath and go on. “While I was at school, my… my parents died. For a while, Princess Celestia was around me a lot, I think she wanted to help… I mean, who doesn’t want to make sure a kid is okay when something like that happens?”

I look over at Zecora again, and she nods solemnly.

“But after a while, things went back to normal. I mean, she’s a princess, she’s busy… but there were other foals who got a lot of attention from her. She was always talking to the kids who were learning really advanced, powerful magic. So I thought… if I was more powerful, she’d stay with me.”

I can’t believe how dumb that sounds. How dumb it was, really. But I just shake my head and keep talking, “I started doing anything I could to learn that stuff, to make myself more powerful… even things I wasn’t supposed to do. I mean, I could see that she disapproved, but I just thought if I was powerful enough, she wouldn’t have a choice. She’d have to pay attention to me. And she’d understand…”

Zecora reaches over and pats my shoulder, but I can’t take it. I stand up, pulling away from her, and turn to look out the window where the last rays of sun are disappearing over the tops of the trees out back.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I don’t know why I couldn’t see it until I saw Twilight Sparkle’s magic. She’s good… and she’s powerful, because she’s so good. Of course Princess Celestia loves her. It seems so obvious now… why didn’t I get it?”

Behind me, Zecora says slowly, “There will always be people who live in the light, who never know darkness and always do right. But most of us walk a shadier path, where we must find balance between peace and wrath. We battle demons they don’t know are there, but nobody ever said life would be fair.”

That so wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “Great. So, I’m stuck like this. Twilight gets to be a princess, and I get—”

“Quiet, my child, that is not what I said,” Zecora interrupts. I hear her stand and a second later I feel her behind me. “You’ve been down this path and you saw where it led. Fate does play a part in who we will be, but it’s choices that matter to you and to me. When you know there’s a choice in the path you will take, there’s power in every decision you make. You know the darkness, I hardly need mention, but you also can see the path of redemption. That path is hard, it brings you quite low, but it teaches you things that others can’t know.”

I feel Zecora’s hand on my shoulder, and this time I don’t pull away.

Then, she chuckles. “And I must admit, though some disagree, I enjoy those like you in my own company. I care for Celestia, and think her quite wise, but sometimes I end up rolling my eyes.”

A laugh escapes my mouth, a real one. I mean, it feels a little like blasphemy, but… she’s right. Both Celestias are just so not me. And not Zecora, either. They’re totally Twilight Sparkle, and that’s cool for her, we can be different.

When I turn around, Zecora is standing there, smiling. I’m smiling too, even though I can feel tears in my eyes.

Maybe I don’t need to worry so much about what Princess Celestia thinks of me. Or what the kids at school think of me. At least I’ll know I can come back to my creepy house, and find someone who gets it and cares about me. And I’ll make her proud of me the right way. The hard way.

My arms reach out and wrap around Zecora, and I hug her tight. And she hugs me back. She smells like smoky incense and earth and herbs, and she feels so strong and hard and… safe. And it’s like nothing I ever wanted, but I know it’s exactly what I need.

“Zecora… you’re amazing. Thanks for letting me come here.”

She smiles down at me and strokes my hair. “I told you, it may be in the darkness I seek, but the things I bring home aren’t bad, they’re unique.”

I grin. I changed my mind. I love Zecora’s creepy stuff. I love this cramped old house, and the weird bottles everywhere. I love my room, and the blanket Zecora’s mother made, and Candleflame, and I’m totally painting the walls orange. I never want to leave.

But I’m going to have to, way too soon, and it makes me groan.

“School is still going to suck tomorrow.”

Zecora sighs. “Oh, it will tomorrow, I’m sorry to say. But you might as well get that out of the way.”

“What, no ancient wisdom to make me feel better about that one?” I pull away from her and smirk.

“It will get better, but that’s no easy feat.” She raises her eyebrows and smirks back. “For now, dinner is ready, and my wisdom says: eat.”

“I’ll be right out,” I say. She leaves, and as I turn to close my computer, I notice someone replied to Flash.

“Hey, she didn’t want to date you. Don’t be a jerk about it.”

It’s from Rainbow Dash. And there are four likes on it.

I close the screen, and as I follow the smell of spicy food into the kitchen, I have to admit that maybe my life isn’t over.