Darkness...

That's all I can see...

My body floats through the cold abyss.

I feel weightless, as if I'm suspended in an endless void. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, memories, and fears. The darkness is disorienting, but I can sense something - a faint, warm light in the distance. It seems to call out to me, beckoning me closer. I try to move towards it, but my body is sluggish, unresponsive. Panic starts to rise within me, but I push it down.

The light grows brighter, more defined. As I focus on it, I can make out the faint outlines of shapes. It's as if I'm approaching a barrier, a membrane between this darkness and something... else. My mind struggles to understand what it is, to comprehend what I'm seeing. But the effort to do so feels monumental, as if my very consciousness is being strained to its limit.

I feel a soft mattress underneath me with a fluffy pillow. A warm blanket layed on top of me. I heard birds singing outside.

My eyes flutter open, and I'm greeted by the soft, sterile glow of the hospital room. The machines around me beep and hum, their rhythm familiar now. I try to move, but my body feels heavy, sluggish. My vision is blurry, but I can make out the shapes of ponies sitting by my bedside. "Script...?" I turn, finding my friend Ellie.

Her eyes are red-rimmed, and her wings droop slightly, but there's a warmth in her gaze that sends a wave of comfort through me.

"Ellie," I manage to whisper, my voice hoarse.

She leans in, taking my hoof in hers. "You're awake," she says, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "We were so worried about you." I rub my head, trying to process what's happening.

"Script, I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you awake. When you didn't come to the bakery and Lily found your letter, we were so scared. We thought... we thought we might lose you."

Ellie's words hit me like a punch to the gut. I feel a surge of anger rising within me, hot and intense. How dare they? How dare they interfere with my plans, my choice? I wanted to die, to escape the pain and the shame that consumed me. And now, here they are, acting like they did me a favor by saving my life. I try to sit up, but my body is still weak, and I collapse back onto the pillow.

Ellie's eyes widen as she sees the anger flare in my eyes. "Script, please, just listen to me-" she starts, but I cut her off.

"No!" I snap, my voice raw with emotion. "You had no right to interfere, Ellie. No right at all!" I struggled to sit up, my body shaking with the effort. "You don't understand what I've been through. The pain, the shame... it was unbearable."

Ellie recoils slightly at my outburst, her grip on my hoof tightening briefly before she releases it. "Script, I... I know it's difficult to understand right now, but we did what we thought was best. We couldn't lose you." Her voice is soft, but firm. "You're our friend, and we care about you. More than you know."

I scoff, turning my head away from her. "Care? You call barging in and ruining my plans 'care'?" I hiss, my voice dripping with venom. "You don't know anything about what I've been through. You can't possibly understand the torment I've endured."

Ellie leans back, visibly hurt by my words. "You're right, Script. I don't know exactly what you've been through. But I know that whatever it is, you don't have to face it alone." Ellie's eyes soften with empathy as she listens to my outburst. She takes a deep breath, her wings fluttering slightly as she gathers her thoughts.

"Script, I understand that you're angry and hurting right now. And I know that my words might not mean much to you at the moment. But please, just hear me out." She leans forward, her gaze locked on me. "You're right, I don't know exactly what you've been through."

Ellie's voice is laced with sincerity. "But I do know that whatever it is, you don't have to face it alone. We're here for you, all of us. Lily, Lotus Moon, Flame Flare… Everypony. We all care about you deeply. We want to help you through this, no matter how hard it might be." She pauses, her wings drooping slightly as she continues.

"I know it's difficult to understand right now, but we did what we thought was best. We couldn't lose you." Her voice is soft, but firm. "You're our friend, and we care about you. More than you know."

I only glare staring at my bandaged hooves, clenching them. Ellie hung her head. "You probably don't want to talk to me right now, I'll just let you be for now..."

Ellie slowly rises, her wings drooping as she moves toward the door. She pauses, looking back at me. "Just remember, Script. We're not going anywhere. We'll be here when you're ready to talk." She gives me a small, hopeful smile before quietly leaving the room, her hoofsteps fading away. The hospital room feels eerily quiet now, the soft hum of machines and the faint chirping of birds outside the window the only sounds.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, frustration, and a deep, gnawing resentment simmered beneath the surface. How could they? How dare they interfere with my choice, my only escape from the unrelenting torment that had consumed my every waking moment? I closed my eyes, trying to block out the sterile white walls and the incessant beeping of the machines.

I take a deep breath, inhaling the sterile scent of the hospital room. The anger still boils within me, but there's something else too, a deep-seated sadness that threatens to overwhelm me. I can't believe they did this to me. They took away my choice, my only way out.

I hear the door creak open, and I turn my head to see my sister Portrait cautiously entering the room. "Script," she says softly, her wings folded tightly against her back as she approaches the bed. "I'm so glad you're awake."

She moves to sit in the chair beside the bed, her eyes searching my face. "We've all been so worried about you."

I don't respond, just continue staring at the ceiling. The silence stretches between us, thick and heavy. After a moment, Portrait speaks again, her words laced with emotion.

"I know you're angry, Script. I know you feel like we've taken away your choice. But please, just listen to me for a moment." She leans forward, her wings unfurling slightly as she reaches for my hoof. "You're not alone in this. We're here for you, no matter what you're going through."

I pull my hoof away, unable to meet her gaze. "Leave me alone, Portrait," I snap, my voice barely above a whisper. "Just go. All of you, just go." I turn my head away from her, trying to block out her presence.

The anger still burns within me, but now it's joined by a profound sense of betrayal. I can't believe they did this to me. Portrait sighs, and I hear her stand up and move towards the door.

I pulled the blanket over me as I curled up and began sobbing. The sobs wrack my body, each one a release of the pent-up emotion I've been holding back. The sterile hospital room feels suffocating, the white walls closing in around me as I weep. I can't believe they did this to me.

They took away my choice, my only way out. The anger and betrayal I feel are overwhelming, but beneath it all, there's a deep, gnawing sadness that threatens to consume me.

I lay awake as I heard my sister talking to the nurse outside my room. "Any luck?" she asks.

"No, not tonight, unfortunately." the nurse sounded sorrowful. "She refuses to eat anything we give her."

"And her vital signs?"

"They've remained stable, thankfully, though she's growing increasingly weak from malnutrition. We may need to consider alternative methods to ensure proper nourishment soon."

I hear my sister's muffled conversation with the nurse outside my room, their voices filled with concern and frustration. The mention of alternative methods to ensure nourishment sends a chill down my spine.

No, I won't let them force-feed me or subject me to any other invasive procedures. I'll find a way to end this torment, no matter what it takes. As the night wears on, I lay in the darkened hospital room, my mind racing with thoughts of escape.

The nurse's footsteps approach my room again, and she enters with a tray of food. "Good evening, Script. I've brought your dinner." She sets the tray on the bedside table, her smile strained. "You really need to eat something to regain your strength."

I turn my head away, refusing to acknowledge her or the food. The nurse sighs, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Script, please. You need to eat something. We're worried about you." The nurse's voice is gentle, but there's an undercurrent of concern in her tone. She lifts the tray, holding it closer. "Just a few bites. That's all I'm asking."

I can't bring myself to look at her, to meet her concerned gaze. All I can think about is how they've all failed me.

They took away my choice, my only way out. The nurse's persistence is starting to annoy me. I want to be left alone, to be allowed to end this pain.

"Leave it," I finally say, my voice hoarse and weak from lack of use. "I'm not hungry. I don't want it."

The nurse hesitates, then lowers the tray back onto the table. She sighs, her expression softening. "Alright, Script. I won't force you. But please, reconsider. Your body needs nourishment to heal."

She takes a step back, then turns to leave, casting one last concerned glance in my direction. I could hear her talking to my sister once more. "We might have to take further action and admit her to the psych ward."

"What?"

"She's showing clear signs of depression and refusing to eat. At this point, we can't risk her continuing to deteriorate."

"But she needs to make the decision to live for herself, right?" Portrait protests.

"We may not have a choice. She's becoming too weak to make any decisions." The nurse's voice is laced with worry as she speaks to my sister, and I strain to hear what they're discussing.

"Psych ward," I whisper to myself, my body shaking. The very idea fills me with dread. The thought of being locked away in a sterile institution, surrounded by strangers and their judgment, makes my skin crawl. I won't let it happen.

I won't become another statistic, another number in their system. No, I'll find a way to end this torment, no matter what it takes. As I lie there in the dark, I can feel my strength gradually fading and exhaustion taking over me.

I drift off to sleep, the exhaustion of the past few days catching up to me. My dreams are a swirl of fragmented images and emotions - the shame of my abuse, the anger at being stopped from my suicide attempt, and the overwhelming sadness that threatens to consume me.

Author's Note

Alrighty, now to finish writing the sequel! I'm actually feeling super inspired right now, and might just stay up all night writing while the drive is there.