A Silent Plea
By
Inky Shades
I miss the spark in her eyes, the bravado and puffed chest she had whenever she rose to a challenge. The cocky grin she wore whenever she won. I miss seeing her at band practice, the fire and passion she brought to the group. The confidence she exuded with each strum of her guitar. I miss the way she butted heads with us, drove us up the wall when her ego got the best of her. The way she was able to put her ego aside when we needed her most.
I miss her.
The rift grows between us with each brush off, each “maybe next time.” Each answer of silence. We’ve tried—I’ve tried to understand why she ignores us. Did we do something to upset her? My mind races to find an answer, a moment from the past she could’ve taken offense from. But nothing outstanding rises to the surface. The rift grows into a chasm, and I’m no closer to understanding why. And I fear the chasm may become uncrossable.
But that ends today.
She’s at her locker. Not even twelve feet from where I stand and yet she feels miles away. I close my locker door, thoughts about what I should say to her swirl in my head. This shouldn’t be so difficult. It’s only her.
“Rainbow—Oh, sorry!” I say, stepping aside to let two of my classmates pass. “Rainbow—” However, she’s not by her locker.
When I spot her by the school’s entrance, I run towards her. If I don’t catch her then I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to try and talk to her again. But there is something wrong. And I need to find out why she’s no longer around. Though I fear what answer I may find.
I reach a hand towards Rainbow’s shoulder, fingers brushing the fabric of her hoodie. “Hey, Rainbow,” I say.
Rainbow tenses at my touch. She turns to face me. “Oh, it’s you. I mean, hey, Fluttershy. What’s up?”
A pang of pain in my chest at her words turns into an ache when I see her gaze jump between me and the door. Am I so hard to be around anymore? But I try to brush that thought aside for now. It’s apparent she doesn’t want to be here, be near me. But I have to know. I need to know.
“It’s just… It’s been awhile since any of us have seen you at practice,” I say.
“Man, I’m sorry.” Rainbow rubs the back of her neck. “I’d love to practice with you guys, but I’ve been pretty busy with stuff recently.”
“Stuff?”
“Yeah...” Her voice trails off as she glances at the door again.
“Well, if you’re not too busy today—”
“Actually, there’s somewhere I have to be right now. So I have to go.” She gestures behind herself. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh, I see… Maybe next time then.”
“Sure.”
“Um, where are you going?” I ask.
“Sorry, I need to go,” Rainbow says. “Don’t want to be late.”
“But...”
“Give me a call so we can try to meet up sometime!” And with a wave she's gone.
I think about following her. Really think. But what would be the point? She didn’t want to be around me, and I’m quite certain if I tried to stop her, the chasm would turn into a canyon. What then? No. The benefits of chasing after her didn’t outweigh the risks. I’d just have to be patient until I could try again.
Another day, another opportunity.
“Hi, Rainbow,” I say.
Rainbow closes her locker door and slings her backpack over her left shoulder. With a groan, she says, “Hey.”
“Um, there’s… there’s something I have to ask you.”
“It’s going to have to wait. I have somewhere I need to be.”
The sharpness of her tone cuts into me. Further she slips. And in the back of my mind I know time is almost out. If I want answers, I need to find them now.
“Please, it’s—”
“I said I have somewhere to be.” She storms off.
I grab her arm. “Rainbow, please.” She winces, I pull away. “Sorry! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” I reach a tentative hand towards her, but she shrugs me off.
“Look, it’s nothing. I just fell during soccer practice, okay?”
“Do you need to see the nurse?”
“No.”
“Can I take a look at it?”
“What’s with all the questions?” she asks.
“I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I’m tired of everyone thinking that I’m incapable of taking care of myself.”
“Rainbow, I don’t think that—”
“Just because I hurt myself during volleyball practice—”
“Wait,” I say. “Didn’t you say that you got hurt during soccer practice?”
Rainbow stares at me. For a second I see the gears turn behind her eyes and a bead of sweat form along the corner of her brow. Why?
“I don’t need all these questions,” she says, eyes narrow. “Not from my parents, not from the girls, and definitely not from you.”
“But I know there’s something wrong,” I say. “You know that there’s nothing you can’t tell me, right?”
“Fluttershy, if you value our friendship, you’ll stop talking and let me leave.”
There is warning in her words and a seriousness in her eyes. I know she means what she says, but… I have to—no, I need to know what’s wrong. She’s my best friend. From the time we met as kids in summer camp, we’ve been inseparable. She’s always had my back. Though our friendship faces a grand canyon, I know I must keep trying to reach her because she is my dear friend, and I will be there for her.
I steel myself for what is to come. Either my next words will cause a bridge to form before me or the ground will crumble beneath my feet. “I’m sorry, Rainbow. You’ve always been there for me. Let me be there for you. Please don’t shut me out.”
“I’m sorry too…” Rainbow says. “Fluttershy, we’re—” a pause “—done.” She looks away from me and walks out the door.
My heart shatters. Tears burn my cheeks. The ground gives out, and I’m left falling into the abyss. I reach for her, a silent plea for her to come back to me. But it falls on deaf ears.
I’ve lost my best friend.
Days pass.
The hole in my heart grows. Did I make the right choice? Was it right of me to press the issue? Should I have waited and let her come to me? What if she never did? Did it matter now that cliff walls separated us? These thoughts swirl in my mind.
Should I have stood by in silence and let her suffer? I close my locker door. At least I would’ve been close to her. And when she was ready to tell me what was wrong, I could’ve been there for her. Would’ve, could’ve. None of it matters now. Rainbow wants nothing to do with me.
Whenever I see her, she’s alone. I could handle her never speaking to me again—even though it breaks my heart—as long as she had someone. But I watch her push people away, brush them off with a shrug or a laugh. “Maybe next time,” I hear her say as I pass by, but I know the truth.
There won’t be a next time.
It’s like she wants to be isolated from the world, from her peers, from her friends, but why? That’s the question that burns hottest. If I only could get close to her again. Maybe I could see something I didn’t before.
She skipped soccer practice today, didn’t even show up. I know this because Thunderlane found me afterwords studying in the library. Only I wasn’t really studying. I was mostly just sitting there with an open book, picturing Rainbow running circles around her teammates. I would’ve gone to her practice—I usually did, but with our break up a few days ago, I figured I wouldn’t push my luck with my presence there.
He asked me if something was wrong with Rainbow. I… didn’t know what to say, so I smiled as best I could and told him that she told me she wasn’t feeling well. I’m certain he didn’t believe me. Rainbow never missed practice. But he didn’t ask anything further, and left hoping she felt better soon.
My friend is becoming a stranger, a stranger desperate to bury her old self. But why? I always come back to that question. Thunderlane didn’t ask anything else, but what do I tell the girls? They keep asking me about Rainbow since we’re—correction were so close. But I don’t know what to tell them, so like Rainbow, I just try to avoid them as much as I can.
There had to be a reason for all of this. There had to be an explanation for Rainbow’s actions. There was no way she wanted to be this alone… right? Why can’t she just tell me?
Night falls.
A sharp ring of my phone disturbs my restless slumber. Blearily I reach for it. Who could be calling at this hour? I bring the phone to my ear, yawning into my hand before I say, “Hello?”
Silence on the other end, though I can hear someone breathing.
“Hello, who’s calling?”
Still silence.
I make an educated guess. “Rainbow, is that you?” It had to be her. I doubt anyone else would call me in the middle of the night. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk?”
But the connection dies, and with it, my hope of learning the truth.
I remain restless through the night staring at my phone until the battery dies.
A new day at school, but I don’t see a glimpse of Rainbow anywhere. A pit opens in my heart. I recall last night. It had to have been Rainbow. It had too… Nameless cold sends a shiver down my spine. She’s simply gotten better at avoiding me, I assure myself. Yet, I can’t shake a darkness just at the corners of my vision. What is it?
The school speakers crackle to life. “Fluttershy to the principal’s office.”
I stand still. Did I hear that right?
“Fluttershy to the principal’s office.” The speakers silence.
Why would Principal Celestia need to see me? I head to her office and knock on the door.
“Please come in,” Principal Celestia says.
“You… you wanted to see me, Principal Celestia?” I say.
“You’re not in trouble,” Principal Celestia says. “Your mom is on the line.” She slides the phone on her desk towards me.
I sit at the desk. “Mom?” I ask into the phone.
“Fluttershy? Thank god, I’ve been trying to reach you for the last fifteen minutes.”
“Sorry, my phone died. Mom…” I pause. “Why are you calling.”
“Sweetie, it’s…”
The world grinds to a halt. My breath hitches in my lungs.
“…Your father is on his way.”
Rainbow Dash is in the hospital.
I sit in a sterile white waiting room. Mr. and Mrs. Dash are across from me. Their eyes are puffy and red, and my parents have their hands on their shoulders. An offer of comfort, but what good would it do? It wouldn’t fix Rainbow.
A couple broken ribs and a fractured arm. A skateboarding accident. I want to believe it because otherwise… I shake my head and count the marks on the floor tiles.
She called me. I know she did. Should I have called her back? Would she have picked up the phone?
Their eyes are on me. I don’t dare raise my head. They think it. I know they do. Does she know something?
“Fluttershy…” I hear the voice, soft, weak. Windy Whistles, Rainbow’s mom.
I meet her gaze, fighting back the burn in my eyes.
“Did you…” She takes a breath. “Did my daughter… Did Rainbow tell you anything?”
Do I know? The question I expected. The answer I didn’t have. “No, Mrs. Dash, she… We haven’t spoken in awhile.”
“Oh…” The hope of an answer dies in her eyes.
“Can I see her?” I ask.
A nod from her mom. “She’s resting, so…”
“I’ll be quiet,” I say. But was my being quiet the reason Rainbow was here in the first place? I didn’t tell my friends when I had suspicions. I didn’t divulge my concerns with my parents. I didn’t call her back… Could this have been prevented?
I leave the waiting room, but I hear Rainbow’s mom behind me. “Why didn’t she call us?”
She lies in bed, right arm in a sling. Violent blue and purple bruises cover her hands and forearms. There’s angry swelling around her left eye. Her chest gently rises and falls. Was it really just an accident? I can’t help but wonder. She hasn’t been herself lately.
I collapse in the chair by her bedside. Words fail me. I see a bouquet of flowers on her table, but there’s no card attached to them. I let out a breath. “I know you called me last night. What did you want to say to me? I’m here now if you… if you want to talk.”
But she doesn’t open her eyes, so I press on. “I know there’s something wrong. I…” A question brushes against my lips, begs to get out into the open. But fear grips me. What if I get an answer? I place my hand on her leg. Hot tears slide down my cheeks. “I just want to be there for you.” My voice is a whisper.
“Fluttershy?” Rainbow blinks in confusion. “What are you doing here?”
I wipe away my tears. “Your parents called my parents. I guess they didn’t know we haven’t—I can leave if you want.”
“You didn’t answer my question. I don’t want to know how you got here; I want to know why you’re here with me.”
“I love you,” I say. “And you’re my best friend. I’m always going to be there for you. If it’s possible, I’d like to—”
“I think you should leave…” Rainbow says quietly with her gaze cast towards her bed sheets.
“Ohh…” I’m at the end of her bed when I stop. She refuses to look at me, but I can see the sheen in the corner of her eye. Why can’t she let me in? How can I help someone who won’t let me help them? “Rainbow, I…” What should I say? Can I say anything at all? “Whatever you’re going through right now just know that you don’t have to go through it alone, okay?”
My foot passes the door frame when I hear Rainbow’s voice. “Fluttershy?”
I stop and turn towards her. “Yes?”
“Can you stay awhile?”
She still doesn’t look at me, but I hear the strain in her voice. I don’t know if she’s sure she wants me here or not. However, I close the door anyway and return to my seat. If there’s the slightest chance of reaching her, I’ll take it. She needs someone, and no matter how hard she pushes, she’ll always have me.
“Thanks…” she says.
My mind races with what to say. This is the first time I’ve been able to speak with her in almost a week. She’s let me in, but what do I do? I think I can help her—I know I can! Yet I don’t want to press my luck. Where to begin?
“Rainbow, did you try to call me last night?”
She remains silent for the longest time. “Yeah…”
“Why?”
“It’s not important.”
“Why do you say that?”
Rainbow shrugs with her good arm. “Did you know I can be checked out whenever?”
“That’s wonderful news,” I say.
“It would be if I wanted to leave.” She laughs, but there’s no joy. “God, that’s pathetic isn’t it?”
“Can you tell me why you don’t want to leave?”
I can see the struggle in her eyes. I want to help her, tell her it’s okay, that no matter what it is she’s safe. But I know I can’t be the first to act. It has to be her. Just reach towards me. I’m waiting. I always have been.
She glances towards the window. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to practice in ages. I’ve been meaning to, but…”
“It’s okay,” I say.
“No it’s not!” Rainbow glares at the flowers and then towards her lap. Her shoulders slump. “I keep letting everyone down—the soccer team, you guys. Heh, some teammate I am…”
“You can always come to our session tomorrow!”
Rainbow cocks an eyebrow. “With this?” She shrugs her bad arm and winces. “Ouch.”
“You could just sit and listen,” I say.
“And be bombarded by a thousand questions?” she asks. “I’ll pass.”
“Please? We all miss you. I miss you,” I say, voice quiet.
“I know.” I hear her voice shake. “Can you get rid of the flowers?”
“Why?”
“Can you just do it?”
“Sure.” I toss the flowers into the nearby garbage. “Rainbow—”
“Did they tell you what happened?” she asks.
“They said you said you were in a skateboarding accident.” The question in my heart bubbles to the surface. I smother it.
“That’s exactly what happened,” she says. “I’m just an idiot who doesn’t know what’s best for herself.” Rainbow offers a small smile, but the glisten in her eyes betrays it.
“Is that all?” I ask.
“What do you want me to say, Fluttershy?” she asks. “I ditched school and hurt myself skateboarding in the skate park, so I walked to the Cakes’ store, and Mr. Cake took me to the hospital.”
“Why didn’t you call your parents or one of ours?”
“I left my phone in my bag which I forgot in the park.”
“But the Cakes are halfway across town from the skate park. You could’ve—”
“I didn’t want to go back home, okay?” Her voice rises. I expect to see a nurse come through the door to check out the commotion. No one does. Rainbow breathes deeply. “Sorry,” she says, and her voice sounds tired. “I didn’t mean to yell.”
“It’s okay, but why didn’t you want to go home?”
“Because I didn’t want my parents to see me. They worry about me so much, ya know?” she says quickly. “I didn’t need to add to it, but… I guess it’s a little late for that, huh?”
“Rainbow Dash…” The pressure the question exerts in my heart intensifies. I don’t think I can hold it back any longer, but I need to try. I can’t push her away from me again. “Is that all?” I repeat.
Our eyes meet, but all I see are shadows behind her gaze. “Please don’t make me say it.”
“I won’t,” I say.
It’s time.
“Rainbow, you don’t have to answer, but I need to ask: you weren’t in a skateboarding accident, were you?”
She glances towards the door. For a few seconds she’s silent. “No,” she says. “It wasn’t an accident.”
The switch clicks in my mind, and I know. I know. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head, but then she changes her mind and nods. “Fluttershy, I…” Her lip quivers. “I… I don’t know what to do.” She crashes against her pillow, inhales sharply. She stares at the ceiling, trying to blink back tears.
I take her hand in mine. “I’m listening.”
Tears roll down her cheeks. “I met someone a couple months ago…”
