Tomorrow

by MorbidTheBrony

Rating: everyone
Tags: Sad, Drama, Equestria Girls, Sunset Shimmer
Length: 1095

How can one embrace change when they themself feel no different?

I've been hurled through hell and back, witnessed firsthand what it is like to lose it all, but also be fortunate enough to gain something new from the ashes.

It should feel wonderful. I want to embrace this change, but when I see my reflection, all I see is the very same girl as ever.

I think I know what to do. I'll be back tomorrow.

Part of the 'Behind Closed Hearts' series.

Published 2022-07-07 23:30:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-07-07 23:30:00 UTC

Another Day

What a time it has been these last couple of months. Who would have ever thought that the former terror of the school would then become a hero? Honestly, I barely believe it myself.

Things do seem to be really shaping up for me. I finally have real friends; people are beginning to genuinely respect me; and my future might have just changed for the better. It all seems to be great.

And yet... just something about it doesn't feel right to me.

I mean, did people suddenly forget what I did? I stole their free will for a petty revenge scheme! I destroyed the school amidst my attack! I transformed into a literal entity of evil! There's not a doubt in my mind that despite it all, they are still hesitant, and I can't blame them.

As I walk through the school halls, they look at me and I appear no different. It may as well be a matter of what is on the inside truly counting. If I'm being honest, I don't believe that's the first thought on anyone's mind. They most likely only remind themselves of that when they remember, 'Oh yeah, she's different now, isn't she?'

How do I know this? Because I am the exact same. I wake up each morning on what is supposed to be a new dawn. I prepare myself for the unpredictable future ahead. I look in the mirror, and I recognise that girl. She's the one who tore everyone apart and seized control with no mercy. I can tell by her fiery hair, that leather jacket, and those boots that clattered as she marched with authority.

But what of them? Those girls. I did really horrible things to them, but they still took me in. Why? Was it because it was by the order of the princess? Maybe they had the same looming thoughts like everyone else and they weren't acting genuinely. But then again, that doesn't exactly make much sense when I think about it.

I get a headache whenever I try to wrap my head around it. I know that I want to change. In fact, I have changed, and everyone knows that now. So what's wrong with me?

I think I know what it is. I've left a scar. Not just on myself, but on everyone who has ever needed to acknowledge me. It ran deep. It sealed off, but the mark still remains. That scar will always hold the memories of the pain that caused them to appear. I can't tell the mark I've left on others, but I know that mine runs from head to toe, only to try and cover it up with my clothes, which even they have stains of their own.

The only place where I seem to find the most comfort is my own shower. Most of the time I spend is just letting the water trickle down from the top of my head, seeing if I can wash away just some of the sins and tragedies. However, once the water stops and I can open my eyes again, the mark is still there. It won't disappear.

A common phrase that gets thrown around a lot is that your friend group is a safe place to voice your troubles. Now, that I do believe, but the one thing it isn't is easy. I barely understand any of it myself, how am I supposed to explain it? I love them, but I am never going to tell them about this. I just can't do it.

But what do I do then? There's no hiding away what happened, no pretending that the past never was. All I'm left doing is let it gnaw at my mind until it consumes me entirely. It's maddening. It's infuriating. I just want a normal life! Why won't I let me?!

I claw my sorry self back up to the mirror, looking at that face that stared back. She's not me. Not anymore. But how? How can I prove it? You're not me. You're not me! But no matter how many times I shout and scream, she still doesn't disappear.

Just, what? What am I supposed to do?! All I want is to be left alone from her haunting. I want to embrace these new changes happily. But I can't do that until I am free of this monster for good. So, what?

So much time was spent staring into her eyes. How tired I grew of her face. However, I found myself drawn towards the clothes she wore. That old jacket, tainted by the past, scuffed by the aftermath. I let it fall to the floor, to which I then realised that my shoulders suddenly felt lighter. It wasn't much of a change, but I noticed it. I turned back to the reflection again. She didn't look as tough now.

I think I know what to do now. I'll be back tomorrow.

It was another day, it felt like most others, but I didn't mind. Not today. As I walked through the school halls, I took note of all the surprised glances people were giving me. Even as I walked up to my friends, they each took a minute, processing what they were seeing, ending with a round of compliments from them all.

I'm not going to lie, I actually felt something from it. Something... nice. The day ran like the rest, but it felt different to me. I no longer had this weight pulling me down. Instead, I felt lighter, as though the ball and chain had been removed.

I even took the time to look at myself once more in the bathroom mirror. The one who stared back was not the same girl as before. Instead, she looked gentle and friendly, despite her uncanny resemblance in the face. Gone was the old jacket, the magenta shirt, the orange skirt, those terrible boots. Now, she sported a new, smaller jacket with orange arrows on the sleeves, a turquoise dress, jeans and a new pair of boots.

She looked like her, and that was still leaving me a bit uneasy, but I knew she was different. Despite the scars that her face still carries, all the rest is covered up by a clean slate, a wardrobe that doesn't hold the past, but instead looks forward to the future.

I'm not afraid of her. She's changed; I've changed.

Author's Note

This is something I managed to get finished while I'm going through a bit of a burnout.