The girl hadn't even noticed the painfully loud sound the bus had caused as it had rustled its way over the road pathing alongside the infamous high school of magical horse girls. It stopped not alining with the reserved parking space, making the halt seem unintended and like the last rest before the vehicle would eventually peg out.

It was a semi-modern Leyland bus — or so it looked like at least. Sunset had a fairly hard time differentiating whether the monstrosity of mossy green and cyan she was seeing was a suburban transport vehicle or an equestrian sea serpent (presumably a gay one).

Although, tires were to be seen underneath the rusty body, they did not appear to be attached. Thumbling around like grapes pushed onto toothpicks, they were moving much more oval-ish than circular. Safety regulations had probably necked themselves long ago, leaving the seatbelts all on their own — bound to stay and rot.

Slowly, Sunset got up, stumbling awkwardly to the other side of the road in an attempt to not look as if she was late. Despite that being the truth, it did not appear to be so. Last day's night decided to mess a little more with poor Sunset — evening had already done its part.

Her hair was messy and her clothes were dirty — they had been the same she had worn the day prior. A skimpy, black mini skirt was barely covering her lower half, whilst a partly see-through blouse of yellow and red, capped her upper body. Opened up seams were accompanied by dried out sweat stains caressing her armpits. Further, had the one on one session with her backpack not helped her situation. Her undergarments had been pushed out of place making her outfit come across as even more risqué. She somewhat looked like a hooker, who had been denied a cup of coffee and cigarettes, after having woken up in a stranger's apartment — “You gotta leave, my wife’s here!”

Reason for her looking that way was Pinkie's awfully unclear and ambiguous way of explaining her thoughts. “A night out with the girls” turned out to be nothing more but a weird mix of getting stoned with Maud (not to be taken literally) and trying not to inhale multi-colored bits of confetti. It was not an unenjoyable night, but definitely, one taking its toll on Sunset. She had arrived home at around 2 a.m causing her not only to be tired but to carry eyebags making FRAKTAs seems laughable at best.

Sunset flinched at the sight of her reflection — a puddle of molten snow had formed midway across the street. She shrieked as she believed to see Steve Buscemi smiling at her. She already knew she looked disheveled but hadn't realized that even a fag-end had more charm (a treat she'd be more than happy to welcome and introduce to her dried-out lips).

As Sunset was about to lick her open palm and smother her remaining saliva through her hair — in order to look at least somewhat presentable — she heard cheerful laughter. Laughter she hadn't heard in an awfully long time and thought to have died out long ago.

Laughter — gigglish and inept — once to be heard from their band's practice room and all the other places it had carried them. Laughter making worries stray afar and distant.

Laughter which belonged to Twilight Sparkle.

Princess Twilight Sparkle.

She hadn't seen the Princess in ages and was flushed away by feelings of euphoria. It was as if a breeze of mint had streaked her body. Opaque eyes were replaced by shimmering glass, a fallen moon was put up to height.

The orange girl was now standing on the street — close to the bus. She could still hear Twilight laughing and was drenched in the wet aroma of ecstasy.

It made her clothes feel heavy and led the elated student down a path of pleasant memories before capturing her in a sultry daydream.

Sunset slowly sank to the floor and, full of joy, meticulously started crafting answers to unasked questions, and questions in response to unspoken answers.

"What have you been up to Sunset?"

"The usual. Making sure neither your doppelgänger nor I turn evil again."

"G-great. What is your progress regarding your latest Friendship Lessons?"

Even when dwelling in her fantasy, Sunset couldn't forget her guilt. She had been slacking lately.

“You've already finished 24b: how to take care of intoxicated friends (for beginners). Though, for some reason you decided to skip subsection 23.2c: discussing your love-life.”

Why did Sunset start teasing herself all of a sudden?

Twilight would probably give her a stern look before saying something along the lines of: "This one is essential for 32.6e and 34a so I expect a fully fleshed out report of the conversation you'll be having.”

"B-But Twilight. I—"

Sunset noticed she was once more losing herself as she tasted a metallic pinch in her mouth. She had been biting her lips to an extent one could probably consider classifying as self-cannibalism.

Whilst doing so, had her molar teeth collectively decided to renovate the girl's oral cavity — the fleshy wallpaper looked "icky" one could say.

Sunset rummaged a little in her bag before pulling out a small notebook. Its black cover of leather was used and felt rough to the skin. Time had taken its toll on the album of pushed-aside thoughts, which had been in the girl's possession ever since her downfall.

It somewhat functioned as a medium of self-reflection helping Sunset to move on and better herself after the realization of what she'd become.

The black leather's pages had given home to many letters and numbers.

Incoherent notes and suggestions such as ‘apology yellow girl, painted locker?’, turned —as time passed— into a more calendric format.

Notes became sentences and were given structure: ‘9:30; Appointment with RD. Organization of charity marathon’; before fusing into blocks of text and lastly a diary.

'Why does Twilight have to be leaving? I don't want her to.” was the finishing paragraph to a page mostly being filled with a long and exaggerated apology directed at Sandalwood — the girl's last entry.

The last entry to be read at least. The next two pages had been violently ripped out of the book; many of the following drenched in tears.

The bloated sheets of grey and white had indicated an early end to the diary.

Until now.

Sunset took a cheap ballpoint —some promotional item for "Rich's Real Estate"— and began scribbling.

A note, unreadable and confusing to outsiders stared back at Sunset: 'daydreams help'.

She looked a little longer at the abomination of longhand before putting the book back into her bag (simultaneously doing up her attire).

The girl took a deep breath before remembering the cause of her excitement and cracking her knuckles — a former habit of Sunset which seemingly returned together with her awful handwriting.

Barely able to contain her newfound joy, Sunset grabbed onto the bus and swung herself around the corner. She wanted to surprise the Princess of Friendship and therefore, hid behind a nearby bin. Its cylindrical base —overlayed with a fishnet-like metal grid— was rusty and had fallen prey to the cold's fierce teeth.

The white wolf had noticeably marked its territory. A thin layer of snow covering the ground completely, was more like silk than anything else. Only disturbed by occasional growling breezes, it seemed to last eternally.

The girl gathered her composure as she knelt down on the snowy floor. The cold stinging erupting from her shin made its way to the most distant of her body's regions.

What she felt was not pain but much more so discomfort — a sacrifice to be made in exchange for shelter of her friend's all-seeing eyes.

Sunset once more dove into the ocean that was her mind. The cold ice had helped slow down the rapid currents wreaking havoc on the girl's brain.

Words faded in and out of existence in the eerie, enchanting depths. Some pleasant, some not. Others funny or sinister. Most were carried away by waves of blue and white — the sea was still unruly. They strayed far away from one another only to be found and remembered on another day.

Yet, few remained unfaced. The ones determining Sunset's following course of action. She chose two she judged appropriate for her current position:

Giggle

Hug

And thus, a jolly plan was made.
Sunset was ready, happy as ever, to meet the girl that had long ago become her first real friend. She still remembered the days they'd spend simply lying around on comfy blankets. Be it outside where young dandelions tickled their feet and tips of humid grass caressed their noses, or inside surrounded by the smell of warm wood and succulent dates.

However, it was not the moment to dwell in nostalgia — a strain of thought long abandoned by the girl in exchange for soothing history and silent mystery.

Sunset, for the first time in months, opened the present, stepped into reality, and decided to live.

A choice she would soon regret.

Sunset peaked over the upper-ledge of the bin and came to a halt. The motion was stopped almost instinctively — but not by her brain.

"No..."

The girl couldn't believe her eyes, although that didn't matter. What she had seen was replaced by a familiar darkness. Like tar, it drenched the girl's ocean of fantasy.

Faint whimpers gave way to silent screams as a starless night fell from the sky. Starless at first.

Dead fish soon decorated the dress reeking of death. Black diamonds on black garments.

"...i-it can't be."

The pitch-black abyss surrounding Sunset grew bigger and bigger. She could feel it filling her lungs and draining any form of strength from her body. Forced to drown motionless in the tenacious sludge the girl could only watch.

Watch as two thin lines of white slithered from the depths and glid —like snakes of silk— elegantly in front of Sunset's face. They lingered there a little before turning aslant and rolling out like parchment scrolls.

Two words were now illuminating their surroundings and gave Sunset a brief lasting feeling of comfort, perhaps even hope — nothing more but a paper cut-out.

Giggle

Hug

Sunset simply stared at the shivering words — what else was she supposed to do?
The girl's consciousness' effort to rescue her from the void that was her psyche almost succeeded. But almost wasn't good enough. The words turned crimson red as they bled out of contrast and aligned with the one-colored canvas.

Not only had a battle been lost. It seemed as so had been the war. The war against her own mind.

"W̛̕͝͝͞ḩ̡͘͟͟y̨̡͘͡͡ am I like this ?"

The girl's sentience resigned and was replaced with sinister silence. Silence to last for everyone caged in its grasp — everyone but herself.

"W͆h̟͑y̫̩͂ͫ̓̔̚.ͩ̓̂̎.̦̥̤̥̐̑ͯ̊̐ͫ͛.̀̓̈ w͙͇͍̖̓ͅh̝͖̥̹ÿ̝̭̎̒ͥ̂ͪ.̤̤̥͈̔̄ͯ̾̄.̪̲͕͕̖̠̾͆.͎̟ͩ̎ͩ͂̑ͫ w̱̩ͭh̠̲̽͂ͥͣ̚y̖̣ͥ͐ͤ͛̌̇̍.̣̹̪ͅ.̝̘̠̟̓.̞̌̎̉̂ͪ"

Her head had run out of quietness. The bitter replacement Sunset received was the closest she could offer herself: Voices.

̸̵̗͖̥̙̞̹̭̭̫̗͍̠̌̄̓̽͗ͫ͒̇͊̒͂̆ͪ́̀"̸̙̤̭̯̲̮̬̩̬̈́̓ͪ̑̿͒͒ͭ̂̽ͥ͑͜͝͞W̵̷̩̤̳͖̼̮̼̯̖̙̥̺̃̽̊̌͛ͯ͑́̀̕h̵̸̡̺̪̠̜͙̻̯͖̯͖̱̼̱͎͉̒̿͊̓̏̚ÿ̨̢͚̰͓̱̲̞͇ͥͪ̅̎͜ͅ.̨͎̞̪̫̥͇̝̹̻̼̬̘̼̘͔̪̥̥̭ͨ͑ͣ̓ͦͭ͗̏͛ͮ̍̎ͯ̆͑̀̕.̵̊̂̈́ͩͬͬͫ̔̽̀͗̔̋́͏̜͉̱̬͔̬̥̖͔̮̺.̶̹̖͓̗͙͙͚̥̽̎ͯͮ͜͠ͅ w̸̼̮͓̥̩̣̠̫͖̻͆̄͊̓͌ͧ̽̓̒͋́̚ͅh̸̨̬͓̬͙͓̹̥̙͈̲̙͉̳͇̭̓̃ͩ̅ͫͤ̔͗ͮ̓̏ͪ̈́ͨ̀ͭ̚͞ͅỷ̘̝̘̞̺̯͕̲̳͔̘̗̑ͤ͌̋̚̕͡.̵̧͙̙͙̺̝̫̰̭̇ͧͥ̾͌͒̈̔͑̈́͂̉͛̈ͫ̌͠.̢̛͔͚̲̫͉͍̗̹͚͇̣̙͖̦̟̙̄̒̓ͭ̽͗̓ͅ.̵̧̭̜͍̭̲͍̳͈́̐ͣ͟ͅ w̺̮͇̗̮̳͚͈̪̮͔̜͉̗̮̥̜̖̎ͩ̎̋̿ͫ̃̒ͯ̓͆ͭ̋͗͆͗͜͢h̡́͂̉ͥ̓͋̄̈̚̚͠҉̫̞̭̖̣̱̹̱̬͎̼̟̖y͆̍̐̄̔̊̐̑̾ͦ̅͊͞͏͏̪̪̭̪̖̣̘̙̠̥̘̺͖̦͕̣̗.̶̡͛͐̈͒ͥ̑ͦ͊͏̨̛͕̯͙̘̫̯̟͙̰̝͕.̷̡̡̲̬̳̬̫̦̱̣̲̼̭̣̗̎͐͒̉͑̐͋̑ͧ̚͘͝ .̵̛̛̝̗̟͇̣͕͇̥̓̽̋̋̚̚͜͡w͒̇ͯ͒̔̿̉̏͐͒ͫ̿̌ͫ͂̌̀̚̚̚͏̩̮̞̪̮̻͕̯͉̮̞̟̻̬̗h̢̡̛͙͖̟̪̰̥̭̮͍̺̲͔̘̘̗̟͕̮̳͋͛̿ͣ̒ͣ̐͂ͮͯ̔̚͜͝y̛͉͔̘̦͐ͩ̽ͩ̑̾̃ͭ̊ͭͭ͆̓̀̚͟͞͠.͔̼̼͎͎̯͓̺̫͕͕̱̺̀͐̅̈͛̃́̉̋̀̀̚͢.ͮ̎͋͑̉ͥ͗͒̓̇̾̈̋ͯͪͪ́͏̶̨̰͔͚̦͖̩̥̙̫͖̤̻.̴̶̧̡͖͙͈̝̦̠͓̤͕̮̩̯̜̯͗̋̿̌̉ͯͮ̾̀̚̚ͅw̼̝̬͙͈͚̤͉͔̙̲͔͚͍͓̫̫̹̞ͨͯͧ͑ͤ̊ͨ̌̄̑̋̃̐ͥ́̏̀͝hͮ̈́̑͌̎҉̨̢̞̹͙͈͎̹͈͓̜͎̱̫̭̯̼͡͝ỳ͇̬͉̘̳̤͂͌̚̕͢͡͝.̸̷̡͇̺̫̜͕͉̮̯͙̬̬̫̳̬̻̦̳ͯ͌̊ͭͨ͛̚͞.̢̛̝̗͇̞̳͙̳̻̑ͥ͐̿ͥͬ̒ͩ̎ͬ̄̾̑ͭͥ͗ͬ̎.̷̷̧̙̭̘̖̱͓̥̥̓͌͌͊ͦ̅͘͟w̧̘͖̝̺̲̓́͌̏ͬ͗ͥ̒͑̈̀̀͡h̘͈̳̟̜̥ͦ̎̔ͫͦͯ̽͑̀́̚y̵͉͕̳̼͍̣̹̱̩ͬͮ̑́ͦ̕.̾̍̔ͧ̚҉̱̯̳̭͚̳.̂̎ͬ̇͐̎ͭ̏̇͌͆̎͆͂ͧ̚҉̨͓̥̤͇̱̬̫̭͎̹.̶͕̟̗̙̼͎̞̼̤ͮ̒ͭ̃̑̾ͨ̂ͥ̾͐̔̀̽̑̕͡w̷ͫ̒ͣ̓ͫ́ͮ̈́҉͖͖̖̯̫̙͙̭͙̖̜̬̱̤h͆̓͑̿ͭ́͋̅͊͊ͧ͑̆́ͯ̄̀҉̷͉̲̯̙͕̗̱̗̟͔̭̟͙̬̪͠ͅyͫ̔͛͊ͭͬ͋́̋ͫ̃̓̈ͥ҉̸̴̷̻͈̪̝͖̩̝̞̩̤͕͕̕.̷̨̛̹͓̗̞͖̣̤͍̱̄ͫ̈̐̔͑͆̿̇ͨ̆̎̍͒͐͛́͑.̵̲͍͉̟̠ͩ̏̒ͩͣ̿́ͤ̽͗͗̽̈́̎͑̐̎͜͟͝.̶͌͋̄̂ͤͧͫ́̚͜҉҉͚̰͖̟͔̘̻̩͈͓̝̪̰̯͖ͅw̽̈́̐ͥ́ͫͨ̄҉͕̜̳͈̱͔̀h̛͈̜̯̦̯̦̞̬̦̲̹͍̰͍̜̦͙̻̜ͫ̓̉͘͝y̯̹͕̯̱̪̞͌̃̂ͦ̎̋̔͢.̛̃ͥ͆̃͊͘͏̨̙̥̳̠̥͉̥.̶͓̬̘̬͎̭͓̲͙̞̾͑ͮ̋̑͆̌̿̚͢.̤͇͖̹̩̦̩ͦ̏͒ͥ̊̏̽̃͐̕w̶̧̖̺̣̰̮̙̲̱͎̓̉ͭ̑ͭͭ͊ͭ̆͗ͫ͡h̋ͫ̓͂ͨͬ̉ͩͯ̐̅͑ͭ̈́̑͜͏̛̮̞̗̝̱͈̤̺̗̥̳̠͈͝y̶͕̭̮̭̞̖͚̦͚̪͈͓͉͉̳̿̈́̇̈́͐̆ͨ͋̋̽ͨ͡ͅ.̷ͤ͒͐̂ͧͩͨ̓̋̉ͮ̎̉͏̸̡͙̥̱͓̖̞͎̗̯͔̟̳̥̞́ͅ.̴̧͍̲̜̠͍̟̹͚̣̗̎̽͌̊́.̵̗͓͇̻̖̬̠̬̹ͦ̎̈́ͫ͋͛͌ͧ͊͊̃͛̏͛̊ͩ͢ͅẁ̸̢̤̰̝̳̮̭̖͔͚̮̮͆́̂̔̅̾̊ͩ̊ͫ͆̒͊͝ḣ̸͈̮̫͇͈̖̜̦̫̓ͬ͛ͤͮ̈͑̇̍̈̉ͫ͊̔̓̓̂̀̕͜y̷̡̠̯̗̯͚̙͎̫͕̹̾̌̈́̈́͆ͤ̓͘̕͠.̸̸̫̜͓̜̱̻͔̖͍̤͇̬̼̠̠̻̈́ͭ͐̓̅ͨ͋̅̑̑̐̂̉.̧̫̻̖̝̙͙̱̘̱̫͖͔͈̯̜͔̮̤̏ͥ̇͗̓ͥ́͊͞.̸̨̨̲̪̫̣͉̼̤̠̟͈̼̙̘̗̜͉̓͛́̅͌͋ͣ̎̔ͨ̋̈̔͋̒ͦ̄ͥͅw̨̜͔͕̫̮͇̗͚̯͎̻̯̙̱̪͖̌ͣͫ̐̀͟͝ͅh̸̡̛̼̠͚͈͗ͨ̈́ͨ͜͜y̨̙̼͍͙̰̯̝͒̆ͭ͒̓ͣͬ͌̅͌ͮ̚̕͘͘͠.̾͂̔̅̌͗ͣ̉̃ͤ̑ͫ̇̒̍̚͏̸̷͍̠͇͉̝̜̘̯͍̤̯̹͙̜͚̼̥.̵̷̥͎͙̳̼̣͕̙̹̫͋̃ͬ͛̒̔ͤ͌̄̌.ͮ͂̒̔͏̨͔̯͉̮̫̻̬̮w̸̭͔̹̘̬̪̙̪̩̭̭͎̑̓ͫ̌ͯ̕ḩ̴̣̭̥̮̙̞͉ͤ̐́̃ͬͦ͗͋̓ͪ̆͛̒̈́̽ͣ̃̕͟͡ͅy̝̱̯͇̮̻͚̏̓͆̉̒͟͟ͅ.̨̝͖̦̗͔͚̥͔̭̟͍͖͚̃͆ͫ̋̆̒ͥͮ͌ͯͪ͒̎̌.̈́͌̓̉ͧ̓͏̴̺͖̖̲̟̥ͅ.̋ͨͮ̄ͧ̒͐̆̃ͫ̽͏̸̸̸̨̥͈͎̻̪̤̲̤͍̫w̾́͋̾̇̓̎͛͗̚҉̫̺̤͞ͅͅh̩͇̺̣͔͚͇̰̹̣͈̗͖̭̻̼͓͖̅ͯͮ͌̾̐̀͜y̰̲̮̳̫̻͍͈͖͉͓̺̲̭͙͉ͩ͋̿ͨͣ̿́̕ͅ.̆ͯ̉͑̈ͣ̔̍ͦ̎͆ͨ͝͏̠̦͎̫͔͓͇ͅ.̣͖̼͇̲͔̭͇̙͈̩͇͕̻̞̘̰͗̐̽̏ͣ̕ͅ.̡̢̭͔̹̼̰̩̝̣̳̩̦͔͈̹͉̝̮̹ͣ̄͋̃̐ͤ̆́͢ͅ"̄ͣ̔ͩ̃ͣͭ͒͊̐̈̔ͭ̆ͭ̐ͬ̎̕͞҉̻̩̻̞̭̻̩̱͍͟

"Is that all you can say?" interrupted a rather brute voice. It had appeared behind Sunset and was audibly annoyed by the girl's anxiety attack. "If that's all you can say then I'll be glad to give you a reason for doing so." Whoever the voice belonged to, appeared to be suddenly much more relaxed, even delighted.

"Hmmmmh..." was given off in a purposely exaggerated manner and supported the next statement following after a quick pause: "How about... a little pain? I know that little Sunny has a lot of experience with that topic, although I'm not sure if you received as much as you caused. Balancing the two will be a handful but I'm sure your purple friend can help us. She seems to be very good at it, don't you think?"

Sunset would've murdered whoever it was that was speaking if she hadn't been incapacitated. Instead, she could only growl. Growl at the offense her friend had received as well as her incapability to hinder it.

A, as Sunset decided to name ~~whoever~~ whatever was talking, was distinctly amused by the distress he (the voice sounded far more like that of a man) was causing the girl.

The raspy horror was about to continue —whenever it talked Sunset could feel a wave of heat making it easy for herself to ready— but immediately stopped itself.

A new voice arose from above.

"Now, now. Let's not be too hard on the poor thing. Questions are the fool's answers after all."

The second voice was that of a woman — frail and much more composed than that of her companion. Chilling coldness was what it brought the girl and her surroundings — her frozen blood tore her veins open from inside.

B's source was not determinable. Sunset only managed to pin its source down to somewhere in front of her.

It started anew: "Tell me, what sound do you expect a snake to make? An 's' sound that is. And would it make a different noise if you were to listen to it on another day? No, it wouldn't. Why is that so?"

"Because—" The other voice tried to answer but was quickly interrupted.

"Don't answer. This is a monologue. Where was I? Ah yes. Because a snake has never learned anything different but 's'. So how can we expect our snake right here to do anything but ask and demand?"

Sunset desperately tried to understand what was happening. Just a moment ago she had sat behind a dustbin and wanted to surprise her friend. Now she was caged in an ocean of tar surrounded by two voices talking nonsense. Worst of all, she wasn't frightened by the situation. Everything felt strangely familiar making her nothing but angry.

And yet, she wasn't angry at the voices (not anymore at least), but herself instead.

But wh̴̯̀ỷ̴͕? What had she seen that had caused all of that?

Was she going insane?

"That would simply be cruel now, wouldn't it? So what would you propose we can do to fix that?"

After a long pause and something that sounded like a cough A finally got the memo.

"Teach her new words?" Sunset could hear thatA was definitely intimidated by B.

"Correct. I already thought of one you will enjoy."

Sunset dawned on what the word was going to be — she knew her mind better than anyone else. Now she felt something. She felt angst. Sunset was preparing herself for what the voices would do but soon realized that it had no use.

The voices had fallen silent. Without a noise, they had left.

Sunset was waiting for something to happen. She waited for what felt like hours without any response.

The girl was still clueless about what any of what happened meant. And ŵ̷̩̟͋̀͘h̴̢͙͛͊y̷̨̿ it ha—.

All of a sudden, Sunset could feel an immense pressure surrounding her torso. It focused on her lower stomach and became increasingly stronger. Only after a few seconds, she realized that she found herself in someone's grip. The tighter it got, the clearer she could feel a pair of massive paws pulling on her ribcage from beneath.

The bones in her arms were coming each other dangerously close. Her spine was cracking as Sunset yelped in pain. A feeling which the girl would've normally enjoyed was way too intense for her. It sounded as if countless nutcrackers were biting down on her bone-column.

Sunset was close to passing out when the weight on her bones finally retrieved. But not without taunting Sunset one more time.

"Hug. Is that what you had in mind?" Sunset couldn't decipher which voice was talking or if it was one of the two in the first place.

Her eyes slowly fell shut causing not darkness but shine?

There she was. Back on the pavement behind a trash can, eyes full opened in shock. Once more, she saw herself exposed to the almost caricatural depiction of the imagery she had wanted to see. The imagery that had brought anger and dread with it.

Twilight Sparkle was standing a few feet away from the girl. Still laughing in delight as she was talking with someone on her cellphone.

There was no princess to be seen. Only a teenage girl in glee.

She had been so sure to be seeing the Princess in front of her. But w̶͓͋h̸̫̃— for what reason?

The realization as to why that was the cause had been lost in the chasm Sunset had fallen into. Yet, the girl managed to retrieve it shortly after and wished herself to be back in the twisted realm of two malicious voices.

She had never heard Twilight Sparkle laugh.

In all the years she knew the alternate version of her closest friend, she had never heard her laugh. Waves of memories once more made the sea turn into a frenzy of water and salt.

Images, unclear and mangled, passed her eyes as if being a film spool. Faces were blurred and colors pale. The constellations of people she saw were all different to the core. Yet, one detail was the same in all of them.

Whilst different people were cackling there was one never doing so. A young girl. It always carried a weak smile on its lips, yet it looked like the biggest burden.

Sunset expected to cry at what she saw but didn't. She was once more feeling... angry?

‘Why?’, the girl wanted to know but hated herself for doing so. From the beginning on, she had known what was happening. She always did — something the voices had been fully aware of.

Sunset wasn't angry for not noticing her friend's depression much earlier. She was angry because she wasn't the one making the girl happy. She despised her selfishness.

How... how… could she be that way?

Sunset's nails cut deep into her palms. She slammed her pulsating hands onto the floor. Thereby, accidentally hitting the trashcan and almost making it tumble.

The observant girl of purple quickly picked up on the motion and was pushed by her curiosity.

"I have to go now. I'll talk to you later."

Sunset, of course, wasn't deaf either and perked up realizing she was standing hoof-deep in shit.

The girl pulled out her notebook — it seemed to be of common use again — and hastily wrote down three notes:

'***l***t', '*e**har* **nde****s' and

'daymares. help'

Twilight was further advancing towards the frozen cylinder…

...and Sunset was awaiting her.

Author's Note

See ya soon
Shim <3