I miss the old days.

The days where I was carefree and happy. Or at least I think I was. Maybe I was just stupid and naive. It's hard to tell at this point. I'm leaning more towards stupid, knowing what I know now. There were three things that really made that fact sink into my brain.

The first was the academy.

I felt like I was on top of the world when I was there. I was leagues beyond almost everypony there. I was beating the cutie marks off of ponies, proving that I was the best. I held strong no matter what injuries or aches my body threw at me, and encouraged others to do the same. I had what it takes to be an elite flyer. Spitfire saw my potential, and respected me as a flier. She made me a lead pony. Me! Instead of Rainbow Dash, who was doing just as good a job as I was at kicking tail. That filled me with a passion and drive so strong that I pushed myself even harder after she did that. I had results to prove it. Academy record after record. Rainbow and I were truly an unstoppable team. At least we were up until the cloud clearing exercise. We literally blew away any competition. Who the hell knew that a group of ponies in a hot air balloon would show up out of nowhere? Sure, I'll admit the tornado was my fault, but they should not have been there in the first place. When all was said and done, I went up to my wing pony because, hello, we had just been awesome. She had different ideas. She pushed my hoof away and yelled at me for being reckless, and berated me for my "stupid idea" when she helped me do the damn thing. As Spitfire ripped my golden pin off my chest and sent me away, I was seething. I can't even begin to describe the emotion I felt as she pressed her nose against mine and glared at me with eyes as hard as topaz. I wanted to cry, but then quickly shifted to being livid. The last thing I heard before being escorted by security guards off the runway was Rainbow's annoying ass voice, cracking with undeserved excitement.

"Omigosh omigosh omigosh!"

How dare she be happy. That mare had just cost me my dream. I was cast out and discharged dishonorably while she stood there, receiving words of praise from our hard-as-nails captain. Shit sucked.

Looking back... what was I thinking? How far had I been willing to go to show my stuff? Beating the cutie marks off other ponies unfairly just to prove that I was the best. Flying recklessly through the sky, causing injuries to other ponies and not caring how much pain they were in, just to impress others. I'm ashamed of how I acted then. I had been too full of myself to listen to my wing, my second conscience, telling me what was right and what was wrong. I had gone so far out of my way to get the fastest time or get the flashiest moves in, that other ponies were suffering because of me.

Sunflower Meadow and her parter, who we stupidly blew past on the obstacle course.

Thunderlane and his partner.

Bulk Biceps and his partner.

Rainbow Dash, when I thought it was smart to try and fit into a small space that I pushed us to go into at the same time. That mare cost me nothing. I was the only one to blame. What still screws with my head to this very day, is that I can't for the life of me remember all my classmates' names.

Classmates. Not competitors. Not stepping stones. Comrades on the same level, all with the same end game.

The second thing that has made me realize how badly I screwed up, was my final show as a Washout a year ago. At the time, I thought that it was the best thing to ever happen to me. I was free. Free to fly however I wanted to. Free of any rules or limits that the Wonderbolts had established to keep their flyers standard. I was so sure that by putting together a group of Pegasi as fearless and daring as myself out in the open, we'd totally blow everypony's mane off. We were sure to be an inspiration to Pegasi everywhere, always saying that we believed that anypony could be the best of the best. That line sure did take in a positive way to the youth. I remember seeing the starstruck look on Scootaloo's face when I told her big sister off after our first show in Ponyville. Those adorable eyes of hers grew so wide, her pupils dilating as I said those words to her. There was so much sparkle and hope in her large lavender eyes, and her smile. It was a weary, wobbly smile, but it was so bright and genuine that it made me feel so wonderful. Even before our group came to Ponyville, we had rallied an enormous amount of fans all around Equestria. For a while, ponies thought of us as the new best stunt group ever. Of course not everything can be perfect, so as one could imagine, when I got to Ponyville and got chewed out by Rainbow Dash, I wasn't surprised. She could call us reckless and stupid and dangerous all she wanted. I couldn't have cared less. I was so happy. The crowds screaming out my name alone, along with our motto, "leap before you look" made me feel alive. I wouldn't have traded it for anything in the world. Until the little twerp who was supposed to give us our grand finale bailed out on me before she could perform her stunt. Of course Rainbow had to swoop in and save the day. I was angry that she got the last laugh. Why couldn't she see that what I was doing was better? Why couldn't she just let me be because I was just trying to make a livelihood for myself?

As it turns out, I was still doing something wrong. I spent the following two weeks after that stunt in a hospital in the next town over from Ponyville. For the first few days, I was constantly fading in and out of consciousness. Then, when I was stable enough to talk to Short Fuse and Rolling Thunder, they told me that I was lucky that they had been able to slow my fall enough to limit the damage to my head. It was nothing life threatening, but the doctors insisted that I stayed until they were a hundred percent confident that I hadn't sustained any brain damage. That was the first time that I had ever gotten seriously hurt because of a stunt. I truly never thought that I would. Talk about taking my skill and health for granted. When a police officer somehow managed to track me down, he told me that I'd need to disband the Washouts. At the time I was angry. The Washouts was the only thing I had going for me. I couldn't just give it up. Why should one stunt dictate the future of my group, after how tirelessly we work to perfect our skills? He said that it wasn't just this one show. We'd been violating safety guidelines left and right apparently. So that was our end. It's given me all this time to think. Maybe that's how I got into all this self-reflection and deep thinking. I now know that I was wrong. Sure, maybe forming an extreme stunt team wasn't the worst idea in the world. Maybe wanting to inspire and push ponies to be their best wasn't a bad thing. But the problem was Scootaloo. Not Scootaloo herself, but the way I manipulated her, and used her to piss Rainbow off. I used the small filly's relationship with her to make her see that I was the one worthy of having a fan club or fame. I used her hopes to make her do something so unsafe, and even against her will at the very end. I convinced her to join us, just because she had hopes and dreams just like us, knowing that she wouldn't say no to me. To this day I still feel terrible about it. I owe them both an apology if I can ever show my face to them again.

The third and most influential thing, or pony in this case, that has helped me see the error of my ways, is Rainbow Dash herself. When I was at the academy, we were friends before anything. She was so fun and easy to talk to. I could relate to her in so many ways. She was encouraging and supportive in ways that a lot of ponies weren't. Even though she was two years younger than me, and a hell of a lot smaller, she had the loudest attitude, the fiercest drive, the biggest skills that I had ever seen. She was the mare who always tried to talk my thick skull into making the right decisions, who always tried to point me down the right path. I should have listened to her, but I was so focused on the fact that the Wonderbolts saw me as the best. Then, when I had been discharged, I was so angry with her. Though very quickly, I started to miss her. I realized that I had never had a friend before her. She made her way into my life and into my heart without even trying. It's funny really, or maybe not so funny, to think that maybe if I had ever had a friend, the experience would have turned out differently. Or it wouldn't have, if that friend was anything like Rolling Thunder. I love the gal, don't get me wrong, but she hasn't ever been able to do something for me the way Rainbow has. And the mare doesn't even know it. When I first saw her in Ponyville again though, all my anger came back. Maybe it was just me trying to guard myself from the feeling of wanting her back. But as we talked, we fell back into our old banter like we used to and it felt so good. I wanted in my heart to be friends again, but my mind said no, and quickly put my walls back up. I still think about her every day, now that I have nothing better to do. I have no drive, no dream, no spirit, no friends.

I wasn't always like this. Or maybe I was, and I just didn't know it.

I'm currently employed as a bartender in a small town close to Fillydelphia. It's cheap to live there and we get great tips there. I also had a lot of money saved up from my job as a mail mare during my early to late teens. I guess I have some things going for me that could be way worse. I could be bankrupt. I could be homeless. I could be one of the ponies chugging mug after mug of alcohol, getting drunk off my ass to forget about their problems. I thank Celestia every day that I am not one of them.

Here's the thing about having a home. If you were homeless, you wouldn't have anywhere to study yourself. You wouldn't be able to make out any distinct changes in your appearance unless you had a really good reflective surface. In a home, there's mirrors. In my bedroom, in my bathroom. Every time I look in the mirror, I see myself, but... it's not really me. I'm the same Lightning Dust that I've always been, physically. Tall, slender, with a blown back mane and killer wings. Mentally it's a different story. My wings no longer serve a purpose other than getting from point A to point B. The most notable difference about me is my eyes. My eyes, that have always held a burning passion behind them. My eyes, that have always been so full of hope and pride. Now, they're dark. They're vacant, reflecting all of the nothing in my soul. It's so scary, seeing somepony that's not you staring back at you in the mirror. It's like seeing a changeling that didn't transform to reflect every detail seamlessly. It's another mare entirely.

The mare in the mirror has no motivation. The mare in the mirror has no friends. The mare in the mirror doesn't know how to help herself. She's given up and accepted fate. Every day, she goes into work, plasters a fake ass smile to her face and does her shift. She comes home only to watch herself in the mirror, eat a small dinner, and sleep. She sometimes cries herself to sleep, waking up only to find that she's hugging herself. She needs a hug so badly, but doesn't have anypony to give her one. She wakes up in the morning, goes for a walk around town, avoiding conversation with anypony and everypony. When she makes eye contact, when her glassy orbs meets a pair of bright ones, she smiles and waves. It's all pretend. She's gotten used to pretending over this past year. But then again, isn't most of what we do pretending anyways? Pretending we're okay. Pretending we know what we're doing. Pretending that we know what we want. The mare in the mirror isn't okay. She doesn't have a clue as to what she's doing, or where she's going next. The mare in the mirror, though, knows what she wants. She just doesn't know how to get it, and is too scared to try.

She shouldn't be here.

I had motivation. I would work my ass off every damn day to achieve whatever I wanted. I am a pony who had all the best interests at heart, but lacked the knowledge of how to make them happen. It reminds me of something Rainbow had said, more like yelled, at me once.

I get that you want to be the best. So do I, but you're going about it in the wrong way.

What is the right way?

Both myself and the mare in the mirror need to find out. We need somepony to help guide us. I would never accept guidance from anypony. The mare in the mirror is in no condition to refuse. She looks like she'll shatter into a million pieces if somepony doesn't come to rescue her soon.

We both want to be happy. To have friends. To be loved. To carry out our destinies. Our cutie mark is not at all related to hospitality or bartending. No, it represents the sky. The lack of limits. We need to be free to be who we once were.

We need a clean slate. We both need to rekindle my drive, my passion, my fire. We need to unlock my raw talent, my ferocity, my prowess. But first I need to get rid of my stupid pride, my cockiness, my indifference towards others. I have to practice grace, humility, friendship, and discipline before I can make any major changes in my life.

Here's the difference between myself and the mare in the mirror.

I will turn myself around. I will improve myself and bring myself back to life.

The mare in the mirror will fall. She'll crumble.

I will take over the depressed, lonely mare in my mirror. She'll be no more. Soon, the mare in the mirror will be me again. I'll look into it, and see myself looking back. Just the way it used to be. The way it was always supposed to be. I'll be able to look into my own blazing irises, and energetic pupils.

It'll take time, but soon, the mare in the mirror will be no more.

Author's Note

Y'all... I almost cried while writing this. I don't even know why, it's not as sad as some of my other stories. I don't know. Anyways, I found the perfect cover art for this story, and I can't even express how happy that makes me. It's the little things.
Btw, this takes place at the end of season 9.
Thanks for reading!
:)