A Lack of Color

by Not Enough Coffee

Rating: teen
Tags: Berry Punch, Sad, Suicide / Self Harm, Narcotics, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 2371

Berry Punch is sick of herself.

Berry Punch has had a hard time living with herself, and honestly has no idea how long that has been a part of her life. Not even the bottom of a bottle has the answers she needs anymore.

It's just another night, and there was always the next day to look forward to.

Warning: This story contains heavy suicidal themes, and addiction.

Edited by Famouslastwords, and Ice Star.

Pre-Read by Waypoint.

Art by Swaetshirt.

Published 2021-08-08 20:40:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-08-08 20:40:00 UTC

A Reason To Stay

Berry Punch clocked out from her shift, sighing as the weight of another work day began to slide off her withers. She looked down the hallway towards the kitchen, her muzzle scrunching in annoyance.

I think I’ll take the back door today.

Exiting to the room off to the left, she reached a hoof out to twist the doorknob, when it suddenly opened, Berry’s heart sinking as she saw a co-worker of hers trot in.

“Hey, Berry!” The beige stallion said with a smile on his face. Though it quickly turned to concern as he gazed upon Berry’s unamused visage. “Rough day, huh?”

“Something like that.” she replied, trying to step past the stallion. Though, he was a good deal larger than her, and the exit to freedom was blocked by his form.

“Gonna have another drink tonight down at The Prancing Pony?” He asked, eyebrow raised, prying into business not his own.

“I don’t know… Can I go now?” Berry grumbled, trying to squeeze past the stallion.

With a nod barely hiding his annoyance, the stallion stepped off to the side to let her go free. “Just don’t get too smashed, alright? Somepony’s gotta open the store tomorrow after all.”

“Lucky me…”

Berry made her way out of the building, shaking off the dreaded sensation of being in her workplace.

Berry Punch trotted slowly across time, her mind swimming hazily from thought to thought.

What does he know about me! I’m not always drinking, I just need a little pick me up from time to time.

...

I mean, can you blame me! Work is a nightmare! There’s barely enough ponies working there to keep it running! If he even had a single shred of awareness in the world, he’d be drinking too…

Berry sighed, kicking at the pebbles at the ground.

I really could use a drink… I just want to forget today and move onto the next. Berry growled in frustration. Oh, shut up! You always say that... Forget today. Tomorrow will come soon enough, and you can start over from scratch.

Berry felt a squirming sensation make its way across her, crawling through her skin, taking roots within every part of her body. Yet, when she felt herself over, there was nothing to be found.

Whatever, I’ll just have a few and head home.

After another moment of making her way across town, Berry looked up to see a familiar site. One that was too familiar to her some ponies would say, but what does it matter what they thought? They didn’t know her, nor did any of the townsponies bother to try and understand her.

Berry gazed solemnly at the sign attached to the front of the tavern.

NOW HIRING

For a brief moment in time Berry Punch smiled to herself. It didn’t last long, however, as she shook her head, letting the familiar weight of her sober frown take control once more.

You’d just get fired for being drunk on the job.

She took a few steps forward, each one lifting a piece of her away. One by one, the pieces of herself began to leave her behind as she felt herself being drawn yet again into The Prancing Pony’s allure.

As Berry Punch made her way up to the front door, she noticed her reflection gaze back at her. Though, something was amiss. Her eyes were slanted, body twisted and stretched in unnatural angles, and her frown seemed to elongate and grow in size the closer and closer she got to it. She reached a hoof up and touched her face, yet it felt the same as always.

She shivered, despite the summer air.

As she took a step back, it was as if her reflection took one forward, beckoning her to do the same. She did, and once again that frown grew in length and size, ensnaring her in its depression. She took two more steps back, the reflection taking more and more forward.

But it was too late, she was already down the street, far, far away from the establishment.

I’m so disgusting…

Berry Punch closed the door behind her, breathing deeply in and letting it out shortly after. She leaned back against the door, slowly sliding down until she was sitting in front of it, her back yet still facing away from her vices.

She took her face into her hooves, rubbing her temples round and round and round with the tired limbs. She felt the weight begin to press onto her withers once more, this time even stronger than before, and she wasn’t even slaving away at work anymore.

Her mouth was still dry.

Getting up, with a great deal of effort, she made her way to the kitchen. Berry opened up her fridge, the light coming from it the wonky source of brightness in her world as she stared longingly for a drink.

Yet it was empty, save a few items: A carton of milk, some leftover casserole, and an assortment of veggies for sandwiches.

Berry grumbled, closing the fridge and opening up her cupboard to grab a cup to get some water from the tap. A moment later she chugged a couple cups worth of water, the dryness of her mouth leaving ever so slightly. It still felt like it was missing something vital.

Sighing, she stood in the dark of her kitchen, staring longingly yet again at the fridge.

Maybe I didn’t look hard enough? Maybe there is some at the bottom I missed?

Berry rapidly shook her head. “Get a hold of yourself!” She yelled out loud to nopony but herself. The sensations from before were taking root yet again, as her blood began to fight against her, making Berry feel sick within her own skin.

“Just get a hold of yourself…”

Suddenly Berry squented to look at the clock on the wall, and it read half past ten. She gasped.

Dammit, dammit, dammit!

Berry stumbled up the stairs, nearly losing balance on the way to the top. She hastily opened her restroom door, making her way over to her shower. She tried to twist the cold water knob, but it slipped out from under her hooves several times before success. The same went for the hot water knob. Anxiously, she paced back and forth, testing the water with an extended hoof over and over until it was warm enough for her to step in.

She reached down to grab hold of her shampoo with her mouth, but she ended up just knocking it down to the floor with her snout. She rapidly tried to grab it again, this time getting hold of it, and squeezing it between her teeth to let the substance within fall onto one of her hooves.

After all of her struggles, with shaky hooves, she was finally able to scrub herself down.

It felt great, the warm water hitting her body over and over, once again washing away the weight that began to lay itself upon her withers.

Celestia, I needed this. She mentally cooed, losing herself as she began to feel her worries wash away. Though Berry couldn’t let herself enjoy it for long. She finished up as quickly as possible, stepping out, drying off, and looking into the fogged mirror.

Looking into a fogged mirror…

She used a hoof to wipe the fog away, looking back at her reflection again.

Were my eyes always so dark and pronounced? Berry Punch moved her face closer to the mirror. And are those wrinkles? She once again rubbed a hoof across her face, yet it did nothing to hide her imperfections.

I’m only twenty-eight...

Sighing, she made her way out of the restroom and to her bedroom, which was empty.

It didn’t use to be this way.

Berry Punch got into bed, settling the covers over herself to try and get comfortable. Despite its warmth, it missed going further than skin deep. She tried to close her eyes. No matter her best efforts, she just couldn’t keep them shut. Berry felt that somepony was holding them open, forcing her to dread the upcoming morning, as she lost more and more time to sleeplessness.

Her gaze fell on the counter beside her bed, a single notebook on top next to a picture frame.

Is today the day? Berry asked herself. She stared more and more, time seeming to stop as she kept her gaze fixed to the notebook on her counter.

Sitting up, she stretched her forelimbs and yawned. Collecting herself she looked at the notebook once more. Yes. You know what Berry? I think it is.

Sitting up, she reached over and grabbed her notebook. Her tell flicked off to the side, and carefully took the pencil out from the spiral binding. She hesitated to open the notebook, her hoof hovering over the cover for a moment before she took a deep breath to steel her nerves.

Opening it up, she had to turn over the remains of many pages that were ripped over their binding to get to the first blank page.

How many times now have you thought of this? She asked herself. How many times is it going to be before you just end it all and write this down? You’ll no longer go thirsty, you’ll no longer slave away for ponies you dislike.

You’ll no longer have to live with Berry Punch ever again. You’ll never have to hurt her, tear her apart from the inside and brutalize everything that made her great before you came along.

Berry put the pencil to paper and began to write.

If you’re reading this, then I promise I’m already dead. I don’t want you feeling sorry for me, because I don’t even feel sorry for myself. I’m not Berry Punch, I’m a broken shell of something that used to be a pony. I’m no longer equine.

I used to think that I’d find answers at the bottom of a bottle, as the old saying used to go, and for a while there I was happy. Or at least I thought I was? Considering I’m writing here now, I’m sure it was just a lie I told Berry to keep her from ending it sooner.

I’m not Berry Punch because I’m too weak to be her, too empty and fragile to even be a shadow of her former self.

I don’t even bother to eat or sleep. I can’t keep Berry living like this. I wish more than anything I could change that, but I’m in no position to make that a reality. Or, at the very least, I do not have it within me to see that pony have a life she clearly deserves.

Berry used to have a family, she used to be so happy and full of life and I took that from her. I pushed her friends away, and I burned away what family she had. The only thing she has left is me, and I can no longer live with that. Berry Punch is consumed by her vices, mentally unstable, and I only have myself to blame.

Don’t you fucking dare take pity on me. I’m not worth it. Berry, or at least what she used to be, is worth it, but I’m not. Just know that she is no longer going to suffer when I rid myself from her life.

Berry was about to write another word when a tear slipped out, landing on the words she was writing, startling her. It smudged a few of the words she wrote, tainting them further with herself. The metallic taste of the end of the pencil slowly vanished from her taste buds, replaced with nothing as the pencil fell onto her bed.

She slammed a hoof on top of her head, beating herself silly as she felt she didn’t deserve the tears.

After letting most of the emotion flow out of her, Berry took a moment to collect herself and set the notebook back on the counter. She rubbed the cover lightly, and reached her head down to plant a kiss on its cover. It can be laid to rest another time. The words were there to stay, not to be tossed aside like yesterday's garbage.

I can add more to it tomorrow. There’s always the next day. This one just isn’t good enough...

Before Berry leaned herself back into bed, she grabbed hold of the picture frame sitting next to her notebook. There was a little unicorn filly within, filled with joy, and looking too much like her mother for her own good.

Berry Punch caressed the picture of Ruby Pinch. She thought it was gone, Berry thought all the tears she had to let go tonight were gone, but they came back in full.

There was always tomorrow.

Author's Note

Yeah, this was a pretty messed up one. I actually almost didn't publish it, because of the content it contains. But, well, I decided to go through with it anyway.

Now for the real messed up part. This is partly inspired by the times when I was working, when I was so sick of myself and depressed, that I would think longingly of going home to write a suicide note for the hell of it. I'd fanaticize about what I'd put in there, what it'd be like once I was gone, and how I just wanted to cease existence.

Which isn't healthy, it's so far from healthy, and it's a good thing I never went through and wrote that...

But I did write this, and this is similar enough where I am unsure this is healthy, but I needed to let it out. It was a compulsion, and it had control of the drivers seat.

My boyfriend and I found a therapist that'd work for me, and I am going to seek the help I clearly need. To anyone in a similar place as me, I highly encourage you do the same.

Here is the national suicide prevention hotline, for those of you who may need it: 800-273-8255

Story title was based on this song: