Open Scar

by Equine Speed Runner

Rating: teen
Tags: Equestria Girls, Slice of Life, Sunset Shimmer, Twilight Sparkle (EqG), Sad
Length: 3672

Time heals all wounds... except it really doesn't.

Time heals all wounds... except it really doesn't. Yes, you can stretch scar tissue over the wound, but there'll always be a hole. Sometimes, it only takes a little digging to reopen past hurts.

Sometimes, your friends can't understand you. Sometimes, you feel like nobody is there for you, and that is when the least likely person will be there.

Sometimes, you hurt too much to heal on your own.

Published 2017-07-12 04:20:11 UTC
Last updated 2017-07-17 06:55:02 UTC

Reopening the Wound

Disclaimer: I own naught of Hasbro Entertainment property, nor any of the ponies or humans mentioned.

Twilight Sparkle had been waiting for Sunset. She had taken a fairly long time, and was the last person in the classroom to finish their assignment. Fortunately, it was also the last class.

All she saw in front of her was a blonde and red haired individual pouring over work.

“Likely regrets,” she thought.

Sighing, she shifted and simply sat musing about things beyond her control, her mind far beyond any of the earthly happenings.

An abrupt noise cut her out of her wondering, as Sunset greeted her.

“Hey Twilight, why are you still here?” questioned Sunset Shimmer.

“Eh-uh-wah?” responded Twilight with a jerk.

“I said, why are you still here? Geez, you were pretty out of it.” responded Sunset.

“I stayed, because usually a friend does that.” replied Twilight, her voice growing stony and her face blank.

Slowly she began to leave, while holding the door for Sunset Shimmer.

“Thanks Twi, you sure you’re okay?” questioned Sunset a little more forcefully.

“Yes, I told you. I am fine.” replied Twilight tersely.

“Alright, alright geez! Lay off it a little will you?” asked Sunset.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” Twilight’s head seemed to sag a little, casting shadows over her eyes as she left.

“Ergh! I’m sorry Twilight, I didn’t realize you were hurt by that or something…” Started Sunset in a loud voice, but then worked down into a murmur.

Twilight was walking away from Sunset seemingly coldly but she wasn’t angry or frustrated with her friend.

Her thoughts weighed her heavily as she walked, she trying to clamp down on her emotions again. How on earth had that topic appeared in her writing class? It wasn’t like they knew her past…

“No!” she yelled mentally, that was not to be thought about. She was sure that the scar had been sealed, but it seemed a little digging had made it a raw wound. Fortunately, it was not a festering pus-filled wound, as she had let the hurt dissipate, but an injury always hurts nonetheless.

She had considered telling the other girls, but then realized that they’re simply not nearly as close as they think they are. Sunset was actually quite a tempting talk, but she was intimidated by the girl, and Sunset? No, she would never understand how Twilight felt.

Sometimes, Sunset’s lack of being able to understand quite infuriated her, even though she would never be able to understand why Twilight would be so angry.

How could she? They were both on opposite sides of the line. Such a thick, dividing line. One side, would truly never understand the other, though if the situation was reversed they wouldn’t understand either.

If only the topic for her Writing Workshop had been different, she was sure things would’ve been slightly different.

“Alright class, today our writing piece is going to be a little different,” stated the teacher.

Twilight was somewhat excited. She couldn’t wait to try her hand at a different format, but at the same time, she enjoyed the current one. With mixed feelings she braced herself for the next instructions.

“Today, we are writing a letter,” informed the teacher, “Now, all of us have been writing about different things, especially the manner of human nature. However, sometimes said nature leaves us holding terrible grudges. Today, we are going to write letters to people whom we’ve manipulated or have been manipulated by. Before you ask, no, the letters will not be read by anybody except yourself. Now, you have the entire class period and after to finish.”

Twilight’s eyes widened by a small margin, and her mind felt fuzzy. Around her, the world seemed to be literally spiraling and crashing down around her, while she tried to process the statement. Everything but her mind, and the statement seemed to disassociate from her. She froze while all this happened.

She finally relaxed after what seemed an eternity, finally processing the statement, albeit her mind still spinning. Unbeknownst to her, Sunset noticed her tense for a few seconds. Sunset wondered what that meant, but she was dealing with her own discomfort.

Twilight’s mouth was dry, and her tongue felt like cotton. Just breaching this topic hurt her, and she was reluctant to write. It hadn’t begun to hurt yet, but she knew it would soon. She thought for a while, considering the many many people who had hurt her, and manipulated her.

Finally, she figured out who, and slowly laid the tip of her pencil on the paper, soft lines produced by past memories and pains.

Dear Principle Cinch…

Slowly, she walked to her dormitory, which she happened to share with Sunset. Something about convenience for the other Sparkle.

Her head lay in her hands, thoughts about the past once again swirling, sitting on the surface of her mind.

Thoughts of self-hate and worthlessness popped up, though she shut them down best as she could. Her time at Crystal Prep had truly shattered her self-esteem.

She liked to consider herself a natural loner, and while introverted, that simply wasn’t true, no matter how she denied it. Twilight Sparkle was hurt and broken, and she simply pulled a cold shell around herself.

She had accepted the friendship of the girls, but only because she was almost desperate for affection. A lack of friends, and only her family and studies to comfort her, her loneliness was almost smothering, and left her wanting.

As she sat once again lost in the melodies of mind and memory, the dorm room door creaked. Her roommate had arrived.

Sunset slowly pushed open the door to see Twilight lost in thought, and by the look of it, not very good ones. Best to snap her out of it.

“Hey Twilight? What’s on your mind?” questioned Sunset.

“What? Nothing! There is nothing on my mind right now!” Stammered Twilight, her shock belying her ability to lie.

“Right… and cows fly,” replied Sunset dryly.

“Actually, it’s “When pigs fly”, and I swear! It’s nothing!” Twilight managed to produce, her discomfort in the situation growing by the second.

“Okay, just tell me, I’m here for you, and I promise I won’t judge… uh… Pinkie Promise?” Sunset tried, hoping Twilight would accept.

“Fine… but you wouldn’t understand. Not because I’m special or anything, but because you quite literally would never know how I feel,” responded Twilight with resignation.

“What do you mean? I mean, I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever you throw at me,” Sunset replied with false bravado.

Twilight felt a slight flash of anger knowing Sunset could not feel empathy for her, only perhaps sympathy, or even fake sympathy.

“Well… I hate people like you, or at least you were.” stated Twilight, her voice no more than a silent squeak.

Sunset had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach like a rock, dreading where this was going.

“Okay… go on.” she said, making a shooing motion with her hand.

“Do you know how it feels? Of course you don’t. You’ve always been that one popular girl, who manipulated everyone and everything to their whims,” Twilight began to rant.

“I? I have tried, Sunset, tried. I don’t hurt people, but they hurt me so badly. Manipulated by so many people, insulted, hurt,” her voice began to rise.

“I help others, I tried to make friends, and focus on my studies. Yet it just doesn’t work out. People don’t realize nearly how much they manipulate others.

If they do? I can’t tell Sunset, I cannot read other,” Twilight laughed bitterly.

“When I was in 5th grade, my teacher wanted to send me to a psychiatrist because I couldn’t get along with the others, and my mental maturity was apparently not where it should be!” her voice had begun rising again.

“Most people know the cues, I trained myself. It truly ruined any friendship I tried before I learned. With this in mind, many people were easily able to manipulate me. Especially because of an affection deprivation… but they never were grateful! Never!” Twilight had begun to pace and make extreme hand motions.

“You know how somebody feels when people only insult them, tease, mock, or simply manipulate? Sick, and thick heavy sludge dragging you down,” Twilight was now shouting.

“You begin to wonder if maybe… just maybe… it’s you. Maybe it’s you who is such a terrible person, a bad friend. Doubt and self-loathing enter your body and permeate your mind, rendering you into an awful darkness,” tears had begun leaking out of her eyes.

“But Twilight, you have us now, we’re your friends.” Replied Sunset finally snapping out of her shock.

“Are you though?” Twilight asked quietly.

“Huh? Whaddaya mean? I’ve seen you way happier here than there, unless your facial expressions are somehow messed up.” Sunset snarked a little, confused.

“This proves what I mean Sunset. Couldn’t you tell? None of you noticed that the smile I wore was almost always a plaster mold to cover the frown.” Twilight replied.

“How could you anyways? We hardly have spent any time together. But you know… you enrage me,” Twilight’s voice was once again reduced to a soft lilt.

“Wait, what?” Sunset said, taken aback.

“Ha, and they said I was oblivious.” responded Twilight, her voice taking on a poisonous tone.

“Don’t you get it Sunset Shimmer? You are, were, one of those people. You were the epitome of cruel and selfish, not caring for how you hurt the other.”

“I wonder… I wonder how you would feel, react if you had to play to another’s whim, beck and call. Would you cry? Would you scream? I wouldn’t know, you have never even been close. In fact, maybe just the sheer guilt and doubt, the mental pain would destroy you.”

“That’s right, mental pain. The sheer hurt you feel, and then… and then the hatred. Once a person who has been manipulated realizes it was not them, all the dark twisted emotion aimed at themselves is suddenly refocused on the other, like a dark prism. But of course, you wouldn’t know that, you of all people have no right to say you get me.”

“Midnight Sparkle… she was the amalgamation of all that. If knowledge was her reason, her humanity, then hatred was her instinct. Truly, you do not think that magic creates darkness? I hold a theory, that it simply amplifies your greatest wants and emotions and gives them strength. Like a catalyst to a chemical reaction.”

“I must be an awful person, but I don’t care anymore. I hate that apathy too. I don’t think you realize the buildup of negativity you create in victims. I hope you learn to change, and you know? I’m not mad.”

“It is strange, like a cold fire seeping and burning my veins. I am simply stating the truth. I just hope you learn Miss Sunset. Learn before it’s too late and your life goes hard from it.”

“Me? I can try to seal the scars all I want but you know something? I can’t. Anybody who has suffered from this can attest, you can bury them, seal it, and throw it in a void-like box hidden in hammerspace. But you can never. Never, be able to seal it shut. You can ignore it yes, but it’ll never disappear.”

“And… they will be there. Right when you think you got over it, even after years. Even a little bit of digging, even a spoonful more than just skimming can rip the thing right back open and into the raw.”

“But you don’t know… it hurts so much… It hurts Sunset and I can’t stop it.”

“What can I do? I… can’t comfort myself… I pulled myself into a reclusive shell to protect me from any more hurt… I let very few people in… Many consider me cold and prickly… but it’s just a defensive mechanism.”

“The shell feels safe, and it comforts me knowing I can’t be hurt… but it also pushes people away… and the memories rest within me… always being inside the walls before I can close them again.”

“I can take insults with my shield, but the ones inside with me stab me deep… I just can’t Sunset… but I must clamp down on my emotions… hide because they could use it against me and stab me...” Twilight’s voice had starter to peter down, and as time went on her voice began to break while she curled up on the floor in the fetal position and began to sob.

Sunset just stared. She didn’t know how to react, or the fact her friend had poured out so many feelings from deep inside her.

She knew she’d messed up, but she didn’t realize how badly she had hurt people. Slowly, she approached the table. On it, she saw the letter. She didn’t like reading other people’s things but she felt it was necessary.

Reading it, she felt shock and a sickness settle in her. She didn’t know it was this bad… and to think she did this to countless people… but that principle… to blackmail and allow a student to be hurt like that.

She couldn’t believe which was worse, the way this ‘Mrs. Cinch’ mistreated her students, or the way she encouraged bullying.

Slowly, she folded it back up. She looked up from the table and saw Twilight still sitting there, rocking and crying. Moving towards her, her shoes padded gently across the ceramic floor.

Then, slowly and carefully, she knelt down, and embraced Twilight, letting her sob into her arms, allowing the feelings to drain out since that was the best she could do.

Author's Note

You know, I actually really enjoyed writing this fic, as it let me pour out some feelings. I myself, hate bullying and I felt so bad for Sci-Twi. Hopefully, this wasn't too angsty and flowed okay.

The Letter

Equestria Girls is not mine, nor are the characters in this letter's content.

Dear Principal Cinch,

You are doing well, I presume. I won’t ask, because you probably don’t care. But that’s okay. Do you know how much you hurt me? How much every day weighed upon my shoulders like a ton of rocks? Of course not. You don’t care about your students at all, do you?

To you, it’s all about winning. The perfect record, the perfect track. You’re willing to throw people under the bus, aren’t you? I wonder why. You can see the hurt, or are you just that blind? You’re a smart woman Cinch, we both know you aren’t blind.

So then… what causes your lack of remorse? Surely you aren’t a sociopath. What lull is there? Such a powerful lull, a lust most certainly, of power? Is it being better? What calls to you so irresistibly and lustily that you’d give or do anything for it?

It seems to me that for the sake of winning, you see the school as your stage, we the marionettes, and you the puppeteer. You’re willing to manipulate us either through lying, cheating, and… blackmail.

It… hurt a lot you know. My mind screamed at itself, torn and at war with you goading on both sides. Should I accept the blackmail? Should I fight it? But then… I’d lose my chance! Alas, if I fell into the blackmail… I’d be so mad at myself for allowing it!

Decision and indecision, the brink of frustration with one self and one’s circumstances, a heavy (albeit oddly tickling) weight, a sensation slipping down my throat and spreading with viscosity like honey through my chest. And yet, it was unlike honey, because it was like a ticklish poison.

I would compare it to a vinegar most thick. A sour, foul feeling slowly advancing throughout my chest, and through my body, seeding my pores with self-doubt and loathing. The weight of being unable to decide is a heavy burden to bear, Abacus.

It’s odd, I thought I’d cry from frustration. Yet, no tears came, leaving my eyes as dry and my tear ducts like a desert. (I suppose I’d still have eye lubricant, as tears need to moisten your eyes, but otherwise, nothing.) Once again the feeling tightened and boiled in my chest, I wonder if one can explode from a bottled up emotion? (Doubtfully.)

Yes, I did address you previously as Abacus, Cinch. I feel you do not deserve my respect, and therefore I shall call you Abacus. Well… at least in this letter, as I doubt you’d ever see or read it. Your name is quite the irony, an abacus is a counting device and you a principal…

Yet… you can’t seem to count your eggs after they hatch, as you always count us previously. There’s a problem with that. You can threaten an egg to hatch, but sometimes? It. Just. Won’t. Work. Can’t you see there’s more than us winning?

I knew you were harsh Abacus, but I always thought you cared, albeit in a strict manner. Apparently, you don’t give half a… half… half a crap! There, I wrote it. You care naught for your students, and their hurt is of no concern to you.

And yes, I indeed include emotional, as sticks and stones break bones, but words hurt elsewhere. Yes, mine, or any other victim of verbal attacks and abuse bear no physical wounds or scars, but it is inside for us.

A person can only take so much before their self-esteem snaps, and becomes a mere shell of itself. A person can only take so much before the start to doubt themselves and even hate themselves. One can only take so much… before they cut themselves off in a hard shell (I always visualized a closed cloyster shell.)

I have trust issues these days Abacus, your school ingrained it into me. (How sad.) How could I trust anybody? I never knew whether they were simply faking or just going to hurt me the second I even lowered my shields a notch. Don’t you agree seclusion is safer, and better for studying?

You allow- no encourage bullying. After all, you yourself are the grandest bully of all. You see the hurt, you allow the hurt, you push for the hurt. Why do you do it? I think it’s because you want people, especially those with high intelligence under your thumb.

If an intellectual person, or anybody who seems to be of priority value to you, has nobody to turn to, as they seem to be a shunned pariah, when better than to swoop in like a bat, and snatch them in your talons, they being caught and discovering your web of lies far too late?

You, Ms. Abacus Cinch, are a condescending, manipulative, twat. I could say worse but it is certainly beneath me, as I am a decent and respectful person, even when you deserve none. Would you like to know?

It’s funny, judging by reading this letter, you’d think I was furious at you. I’m not. I feel empty right now, though the emotions attempting to push themselves out are sadness and regret. I currently am simply stating the cold, hard facts.

As a school leader, you should take care of us, not use us for personal gain. That behavior disgusts me, almost as much as it hurts to think about. You need to learn, Abacus, learn truly what people need and feel.

If I made you obey my every whim and command, and threatened you if you didn’t do as I asked demanded, or perhaps I’d guilt trip you, or threaten you (all of which, you’ve done) would you take it? Would you sit there, and silently suffer?

I seriously doubt it. I think if I did it to you, you would scream and cry, and threaten me with obscenities. Guess what? We, your victims did too. Alas, we could never vocalize, because of the dark cloud overhanging us, shadowing our every move, creating our only safe haven, the mind.

People are awful, but manipulators are a worse kind of bad in my book. They just hurt so much, and create a despairing emptiness within us. I despaired and cried and within myself, because to show weakness, was to give opportunity. I couldn’t afford to do that.

Thus, as I finish this letter which has rend my heart, perhaps mortally so, (I doubt it, as all scars will heal enough someday), I shall use your full name one last time. I wish to not think of you any longer, except perhaps skimmingly, because you only open the wound further, and stretch it in hopes of forcing an infection, which I intend to deny you.

Principal Abacus Cinch, you have been judged and weighed, and you have been found wanting. I hope you reconsider, because though you are late in years, it is not too late to turn yourself around. I think if you lost focus on winning, but kept the drive and cared about us, you could be a great person. But alas, it is not I who can insinuate the change, nor will you likely read this letter.

A Hurt and Betrayed Student,

-Twilight Sparkle

Author's Note

Well... that felt good to write. Really good to write. Hopefully, I didn't include prose that was too purple, it is Twilight writing a letter after all.

Alright, so except for some events from the movie (such as the blackmail) this was taken from my own life experiences, from the writing prompt, to the 5th grade psychiatry issue. You know, I think Sci-Twi has had many more problems than real Twilight (compare to Moondancer), and I think it'd be interesting for them to meet. (Not just a cameo) Anybody who has ever been hurt or bullied, it isn't your fault, okay? Remember that, it's not you. You ARE the good guy.

Hope you enjoyed the short 2 shot.