In the Back of Her Mind

by wackaditto

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Nightmare Moon, Princess Luna, Drama, Suicide / Self Harm, Tragedy, Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle
Length: 1173

Luna visits Nightmare Moon in the hospital.

Rated Teen for themes of self-harm, eating disorders, depression, and other mental illness-related themes.

A month ago, Nightmare Moon was found nearly dead.

She has barely recovered--both physically and mentally--since then. Only Celestia and Twilight have visited her, but Luna decides that to really move on, she must face the Nightmare alone.

Told in free verse.

Published 2018-04-08 02:30:06 UTC
Last updated 2018-04-08 02:30:06 UTC

Luna

Author's Note

So I bet a LOT of people are confused. In this story, SHE is not a pronoun but a name Luna uses for Nightmare Moon. Just a heads-up before you start reading :)

Luna

Something is Wrong

With the way I talk today, pretending I'm okay,
because okay is a societal standard.

I'm supposed to lift my head up high, pretending
that SHE isn't a threat. That SHE hasn't died.

I'm supposed to say the "truth".
But the real truth is: I'm not okay.

I just wish SHE
would die.

But SHE Hasn't

And I have to deal with it all.
I loathe it. I wish for SHE's heart
to cease its beating.
~~And I want her poor soul to rest~~
And I want SHE's soul in Tartarus.

It's the Way I Trudge

That concerns my sister. She wants
me to eat more. ~~Like my counterpart~~
~~is~~ Like I would want to. Celestia says
that she knows I'm tired. Oh, she
has no idea. Absolutely no idea.

Celestia thinks she knows what I'm
stressed about. "Stressed". I am way
more than stressed. I shiver every
night, terrified that SHE will escape
her hospital bed, coming for me.

I post extra guards outside my room,
not to protect myself but give them an
excuse to kill SHE. And I don't have an
appetite anymore; it disgusts me, the
rate which my sister chomps on food.

And I refuse to come anywhere where
SHE might be hidden from my sight,
the psychiatrist sure that I will launch
at SHE every chance I get. No one will
stop me. I will ~~end her pain~~ kill SHE.

But Today,

Today is a special day. The one-month
anniversary of SHE's coming. SHE was
resistant, but couldn't resist. SHE's
legs were weak. All of SHE was weak.

SHE couldn't even scream. SHE tried
to move, but as soon as SHE was
aware of what was going on, SHE was
already strapped on to the stretcher.

That night was the last time I saw
SHE. The flashing lights, the urgent
letter from Twilight Sparkle~~The~~
~~fear in SHE's eyes~~ the cowardly face.

That was straight after the last time I
ever forgave myself. ~~Celie~~ Celestia and
I were best friends. Sisters. Forever.
Except for that agonizing millenia.

Twilight

OCD

Suprisingly, the diagnosis is not
Obsessive-Compulsive Personality
Disorder. It's surprising because I
thought there was nothing wrong,
and those with OCPD seem not to
notice that their actions are out of
the ordinary. At least, that's what
I think it is.

But Doctor Simple Grace says that's
not true. She says that OCPD is a lot
different. For the first time ever,
I'm wrong, and I feel a pang of fear.
Doctor Grace says that those with
OCD may or may not realize that they
are being irrational. She then defines
it:

Consisting of intrusive thoughts followed by compulsive behaviors to soothe the anxiety caused by the thoughts. Not being a neat freak. Not
being nice and organized, though I
would like that for a change. No, it's
more than that. There is no OCD without fear.

Dr Grace

Is also the lead psychiatrist of
Nightmare Moon's--I shiver.

She is faking it. Every time she
refuses to look at me, she is

planning her revenge. I wonder
if Doctor Grace has diagnosed her

with psychopathy yet. Or maybe...
it's not a possibility. That villain

absolutely cannot be forgiven
just because of a mental illness.

No matter how severe it is. She
deserves to be stuck in that mind

of hers. She is evil. She will bring
destruction to Equestria. She will

kill us all. But how can she? She's so
weak, or maybe she's faking that too.

But wait. The doctors are saying that
she's still too weak. She won't eat,

speak, or be. Be there. She is always
distant. Will always be.

Celestia

I Want to Visit Her Again

But the look in Luna's eyes say no.
We brush past each other in the hall,
eyes on each other, hers flickering
away. I grab her shoulder.

Are you okay?

She chuckles. More than ever. I can
hear the sarcasm, but also: the grief.
The fear. The mourning. The utter
insanity. My sister is losing her mind.

And There's Nothing I Can Do

To stop it. As if I could, as long as
Nightmare Moon is alive, as long
as she refuses to speak to me, or
Luna, or both.

All I Can Do is Sit

And watch. Watch as my sister's state
deteriorates, watch as she begins
to spiral down into a world
that she no longer fears.
She is dying.
Falling.

In That Instant

I'm reminded of what I did.

I see her not falling, but flying

yet not by her own force.

She is being propelled by the

Elements of Harmony. One

thousand years ago, and we

haven't moved on. We will be

okay, I promise myself that.

Nightmare Moon

A Conversation

Hello, Insanity. It's been a while.

I don't think you should call me that.

Then again, I'm talking to my self.

My self? Not myself?

My fake friend, there's a difference.

My Self

My being.
All being thrown away.
All just nothing. There's
my self, a pony just like
you. Then there's my existence,
my soul, my everything
except the inside me.
Myself, I'm simply a
monster.
Everything they see.
And my self isn't such
a drastic difference.
The conversations I have
are fake. They are coping
mechanisms. I don't need some
shrink to tell me that.
I'm smarter. I'm known for
my ego, and you know
what? I love it and hate
it. I secretly want it to
go away. I don't want to be
that pony. But I am not in
control. I am out of that
perfect ring of control, I am
different. So I don't care if you
see me as a monster. Because
I am.

InControl

It means that I am in that ring,
that I'm safe from Society's harm,
safe from my own emotions.

I cannot be in control. All I can do
is ignore. Ignore. Or maybe I am
in control, and I'm just unaware.
Blissfully. At least, I'm in control

of my body. I can keep from
moving, from looking at those
pathetic faces. I can regulate what
goes in my body. I can use the
IV needle to drain myself of

blood. But I can absolutely not
control what goes on in my mind.
It is a confusing, spontaneously
combusting place. Boom. Boom.
Thought: THEY WILL KILL ME.
Feeling: I DON'T CARE. Voice:

NEXT TIME, YOU'RE THROWING
IT UP AFTERWARDS. And you know
what the fickle thing about control
is? It's that I'm not the one in control.
My mind is. Its running on its own,
giving me rare opinions. If I try to
interject, I get quite a backlash.

But

At least I'm dying.
At least I have lost all hope.
At least I am not free.
At least.