I Don't Want to Feel This
Stray pieces of sunlight filtered through the closed blinds. They peeked into the room, eager and curious, only to come away disappointed. Through the glass, one could see an almost barren apartment room. A single couch and coffee table sat tucked away, standing like statues in a dead sea.
Beyond that, the sunlight was shocked to find that there was nothing. There was no bookshelf filled with trinkets and fine literature, and there were no cherished photographs hanging from the walls. It was empty and lifeless, and the rays began to wonder if anyone lived in here after all.
Continuing their search for life, the sunlight meandered into the adjoining room, slipping silently into an equally empty bedroom. Here, the sunlight was relieved to finally find signs of life. A writing desk was tucked in the corner, a small stack of papers and envelopes squared away at the middle.
The bed itself was immaculate. Every corner was perfectly squared, and there wasn’t so much as a wrinkle in the folded blankets and sheets. But the sunlight lost interest in the furniture and was quickly drawn to the resting pony.
The mare was lying on her back, eyes closed and face aimed at the ceilings. Her chest rose and fell in a perfect cadence, beaten out by the drum of her heart. With a foal-like glee, the sunlight found its way to her eyes, and the mare flinched and awoke.
Tempest Shadow grumbled in irritation. Her horn stump lit up and the curtains slid shut, banishing the sunlight to beyond the glass. With a disappointed sigh, she quickly accepted that sleep was gone and unlikely to return.
But even when faced with the fact, she didn’t want to get up.
Because there was nothing to do. Because instead of an apparition of a dreamscape, an empty apartment awaited her. Because Tempest Shadow was alone.
Perhaps it wasn’t exactly that she had nothing to do: Twilight and her other friends had extended invitations to various activities to her. But she couldn’t bring herself to accept them. Why should she? Did Tempest Shadow, the mare responsible for so much trauma and pain across Equestria really deserve to bake a cake with Pinkie Pie, or fly a kite with Starlight, or do anything besides be locked away?
She squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, biting back a growl. Outside her window, Ponyville came to life. Voices began to shout and wagons rattled by as ponies began their last-minute preparations for the impending holiday.
Tempest wasn’t sure how long she laid there, unmoving and listening to the world carry on without her. Eventually, she hefted herself up to a sitting position.
Her thoughts began to wander as to what she could do today. The dishes had already been done, and her only piece of clothing had already been washed. Tempest swung her hooves off the side of her bed, trotting over to the door.
Maybe she’d go outside…
For what? So she could wander the markets, so that salesponies could sweet-talk her into buying things she didn’t need? So she could watch couples point out trinkets and laugh, so she could be assaulted and beaten by bright colors and holiday songs?
So she could be reminded that she was alone?
Her hoof slid away from the doorknob. Tempest’s ears dropped and another sigh escaped her. She moved over to her window lethargically, opening it part way and looking outside. Ponies passed her by far below, and a few pegasi glided by. White puffy clouds dotted the sky and the barren trees below shivered as the wind shook their branches.
But then an explosion murdered the serenity. The smell of smoke and ash filled the air. Screams began to erupt from the square, and massive looming airships broke through the clouds. Ponies began to panic, running in terror and screaming as a clap of thunder drowned out their cries--
No.
Tempest squeezed her eyes shut and took in several deep breaths. Her heart rate began to slow, returning to its normal pace. She opened her eyes and the visions of an invasion dissipated, leaving behind the idyllic scenery Ponyville was famous for.
She stomped a hoof in frustration and yanked the curtains shut again, ears dropping to her sides. A sense of bitterness gripped her. She had nothing and she deserved to have nothing. Tempest went back to her bed and sprawled back down in defeat.
Why was she here? Why was she holding on? Every single day was the same, a rerun of loneliness and despair, a lifetime of regret packed into twenty-four hours.
Tempest had spent the last year making amends, wandering Equestria and spreading news of the Storm King’s downfall. But now that the job was done… what was left for her?
She didn’t know.
Twilight had welcomed her back to Ponyville, even offering her a room in the castle, but Tempest couldn’t accept that. So instead, she decided to stay inside a house that wasn’t her home, because she didn’t deserve one. She performed odd jobs around Ponyville to make enough bits for food, biding her time until she drowned beneath her personal sea of regret.
Making excuses and false plans to avoid commitments. Turning down invitations, feeling guilty about going and feeling worse about saying no. Closing her window and letting the world pass on without her.
A noise pulled her from her musing.
Tempest shot up, staring at her bedroom door.
The noise came again, and she quickly placed it as someone softly knocking on her front door.
Who in Equestria could that be? Tempest wondered, swinging her legs off the bed and exiting her room.
Perhaps it was Twilight, stopping by to check on her? Applejack with another odd job offer? Pinkie with another party invitation that she’d have to turn down… somehow?
Tempest arrived at the door and inched it open.
“Oh! Hello,” said a voice softer than the snow. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“Fluttershy?” Tempest pulled the door open completely in surprise. “What brings you by?”
“Twilight asked me to ask you if you were coming to her Hearth’s Warming party at the castle,” Fluttershy whispered, half-hidden behind her mane.
Tempest blinked, considering the proposal. She tried to picture herself, bathed in warm lights and wearing some silly sweater. She imagined herself drinking from plastic cups and telling jokes to a crowd of ponies, who listened and laughed along…
She couldn’t do it.
Tempest just couldn’t imagine standing in a crowd, or dancing to cheery music, or even just talking with other ponies. She wouldn’t fit in, and worst of all, it’d likely just make her feel more lonely than she already was.
She was right back where she started.
Tempest blinked, suddenly remembering that Fluttershy was shivering at her doorstep. “Oh! Oh, please, come in!” she declared, snapping out of her stupor.
“I-I don’t want to intrude,” Fluttershy protested through chattering teeth.
Tempest shook her head vehemently. “No, no, you aren’t! I feel like such a terrible host for not asking you earlier.” She stood aside and gestured into her embarrassingly empty room.
Fluttershy hesitated, but eventually complied. She padded inside gently, as if worried she’d offend the carpet.
“I don’t know why it’s so cold in that hallway,” Tempest said, shutting the door. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like outside. I have to put in a word with the landlord…”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Fluttershy said, glancing around the barren room. “I don’t want to cause a problem.”
Tempest shrugged. Fluttershy stood awkwardly, as if afraid to move any further.
“Well… why don’t you come in?” Tempest declared, throwing a hoof forwards half-heartedly.
Fluttershy nodded, walking deeper into the living room and choosing to stand next to Tempest’s coffee table.
“Uh, have a seat, I guess,” Tempest muttered. “Can I offer you a drink or something?”
“Umm… I think I’m okay,” Fluttershy answered as she began to poke at Tempest’s cushions “Um, I don’t mean to be intrusive but… you don’t seem to have many things… not that it’s a bad thing!” she quickly added with a pair of wide eyes. “I’m sure Rarity would approve of a minimalist design like this!”
Tempest chuckled, using her magic to fill two glasses of water from her sink. “It’s okay, Fluttershy. I’m not offended. I know I don’t really have much here.”
“I see,” Fluttershy answered, looking around. “It looks… almost the same as when Pinkie threw your house warming party.”
“Yeah. I didn’t really… bother buying stuff,” Tempest admitted as she levitated the drinks over to the table. She settled into the rather stiff cushions (she didn’t spend much time sitting on them after all) and gestured for Fluttershy to do the same.
“Oh, I see,” Fluttershy said as she sat down. “Can I ask why that is?”
Tempest shrugged, sipping from her glass. “I just… didn’t really see a point.”
Fluttershy furrowed her brow, tapping her chin in thought. “But… isn’t this your home?”
“Well… I live here?” offered Tempest. “But beyond that… I don’t know. I just can’t convince myself to really get attached to anything. I’ve never been a mare who really needed many things anyways.”
“Hmm..” Fluttershy stood up, going over to the curtains. “Oh! Do you mind?”
“Of course not,” Tempest answered, and Fluttershy gently tugged on the cord. The blinds silently slid open, letting the sunlight surge back into the room.
Tempest held her glass up to the light, watching the light fractured and reflected into a million pieces against her wall.
“You, um, never did answer my question,” Fluttershy gently reminded her. “About Twilight’s party?”
Tempest sighed, setting her glass back onto the table. “I.. don’t think I’ll go,” she said. “I just don’t think I’ll fit in there.”
Fluttershy returned to the couch, sitting next to her. “Oh. Um. Okay. I know Twilight was really hoping you’d come though,” she muttered, playing with her mane. “She was worried you might be feeling a bit… lonely?”
“I’m not!” Tempest blurted, making Fluttershy flinch. “I’m… I’m fine!”
“... are you sure?” Fluttershy asked. “We, um… haven’t seen you in awhile.”
Tempest sighed, settling back down. “I… Well… I guess I’ve been a little bit lonely,” she confessed. “I haven’t really gone out much since moving here.”
“Oh, but you know that you’re always welcome to come hang out with us,” Fluttershy offered.
“Thanks,” Tempest answered, shifting on the uncomfortable couch. “But… I can’t. I mean, I can but… I don’t know. I don’t think I deserve that.”
Fluttershy was quiet for a second, so Tempest continued.
“My real name may be Berrypop, but that filly… that filly has been gone for a long time. I’ve been Tempest Shadow for so long that I don’t even remember who that filly was. I can barely remember who I was before… and without what the Storm King gave me, I have nothing.”
Fluttershy’s eyes grew wide in understanding. Her eyes drifted downwards, and her mouth fell open in shock. “You… you never got your cutie mark?”
“No,” Tempest replied. “I… don’t think I ever got the chance to. But then again, I don’t think I’m the type of pony meant to go home. I’ve done horrible things, and if I were in Twilight’s horseshoes, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t forgive me.”
Fluttershy leaned a little closer to her at that. “Is that why this place is so… empty? You don’t think you deserve a home?”
Tempest tapped her hooves together and sighed. “I… guess so. Fluttershy, when Twilight showed me friendship, it made me realize something. That I had wasted so much time, and that I’d never get it back. It was like I’d been asleep on my hooves, dreaming of revenge and getting back at the world. Then I… woke up, and everything was gone.”
She froze, feeling a strange weight on her hoof. Turning to her right, Tempest realized that Fluttershy had put a hoof over her own, and her bright eyes shone with a strange emotion. It wasn’t pity, but more of… an understanding.
“Oh, Tempest,” she said in her signature soft voice. “I can’t possibly imagine how you must feel. But you’re here now. You have us. Everypony deserves a second chance. It’s not too late for you, Fizzle.”
Tempest let out a hollow, empty chuckle. “I’ve seen things, Fluttershy,” she whispered in a voice that almost rivaled Fluttershy’s own. “I’ve done things that I can’t ever take back. I don’t think there’s any Fizzlepop left to save. Not when Tempest Shadow is all that’s left.”
A passing cloud from beyond the window darkened the room. The voices of foals rose from the sidewalks, laughing as they sung an early Hearth’s Warming carol. A chilly breeze flew through the ajar window, but Fluttershy’s hoof didn’t lose its warmth.
“I don’t think it is too late for you,” she answered. “I think that deep inside, Fizzlepop Berrytwist is still there. You’re different now, and I think that’s proof enough you can still change for the better.”
“I… I don’t know,” Tempest said. “I’m alone. And seeing you and Twilight and all the others… it makes me jealous sometimes, and I hate feeling like that.”
Fluttershy responded by pulling her into a tight hug. “Oh, you’re not alone! You have us! We’re always here for you, and I’m sure the others are more than willing to welcome you.” She pulled back, a thought occurring to her. “Why don’t you come to Twilight’s party? I think it’d be a good way to make a first impression on the others!”
“Maybe,” Tempest responded, rubbing the back of her head again. “But… I might dip early. Social interactions tire me out.”
“Oh, me too,” Fluttershy answered with a laugh. “You certainly wouldn’t be the first. But I think it’s worth a try, don’t you?”
Tempest looked around at her empty, blank walls. Perhaps Fluttershy was right. Perhaps it was high time to put some life into this place. To put some life back into herself. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Deep within her, a mare that never had a real chance to be a foal awakened from a decades long nap.
And Fizzlepop Berrytwist opened her eyes again, watching as the winter sun streaked in through the window. “I think so,” Fizzle said aloud. “I think so.”
“Yay!” Fluttershy cheered. “Oh my, look at the time. I really should get back to the sanctuary… Do you want to join me? The critters are always happy to make a new friend!”
Fizzlepop beamed at that. “Well… they’re not alone in that. I’d love to, Fluttershy.”
With a smile and a confident nod, Fluttershy led the way to her door.
Fizzlepop went over to her window, glancing at the world outside.
Maybe it did move on without her…
…but that didn’t mean she couldn’t catch up.
