LOVE DRAWN IN INK

I Will Make Him Pay

I am a coward.

I always have been.

Every time my father would try to teach me how to deal with the bullies at school, I would just freeze, unable to do anything but stare pain in the face.

Pain is my only friend, or at least the only real one. Pain has never left me, no matter how hard I try to escape from it. It never left when my parents would call me a failure; it never left as the ponys at school hit me blow after blow as I begged them to stop, pleading for my life as they cut me and told me not to tell. It has never left me, even when everypony else did. And at this point, I wish it would leave as well.

Sadly, it keeps coming back, and right now it is breathing down my neck as I watch the love of my life get swept away by another stallion. I couldn't even have this; I just can't get what I want, no matter what I do. Will I always be the butt of the world's cruel joke?

Or is it that i'm the joke?

I went home.

I gave up.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as the townspeople watched in concern. Anypony who came close, I would simply walk past, ignoring them because the only thing I could hear was the voice of pain. As I walked home, it told me,"You are a coward; if you had just been better, it would have worked, but you just had to go buck it up, didn't you?"

Then it dawned on me: my talent is not in creating art or music; rather, it is ruining everything good around me. That is why, when I arrived home, I grabbed some rope from the closet, went into the bathroom, and tied a noose around the pole of my shower curtain.

I left a note for anypony who found me to read, but it was intended for Pinkamina specifically. I wrote, "Dear whoever found this, I apologize for wasting space, so please give all of my possessions and apartment to whoever needs them, thank you."

"Also, Pinkie, if you are reading this, I am sorry, but I want you to know I always loved you, sorry I was not good enough for your love." I wrote at the bottom of the note.

To ensure that any pony entering would see the note when I shut the door behind me, I affixed it to the bathroom door. My horn flared to life as I approached the noose, lifting the rope with its magical grasp with a dark aura. But just when I was about to end it all, that voice piped up again.

"Do it, finally take your own life and give back to the planet that gave birth to your pitiful existence."

The voice echo's from the deepest depths of my mind, repeating over and over and over and over and over and over and over again, its voice never stops. I pause my approach, my breath quickening and my heart beating like a drum as I felt the fear of death bleed into my mind.

"Ah, just as I thought, a twat like you can't even commit suicide properly. Isn't that hilarious."

I slowly fell to the floor next to the cabinets under my sink as my legs gave out. I tried to close my eyes to shield myself from the countless insults my mind hurled my way.

Twat.

Buffoon.

Idiot.

Retard.

Biggot.

Bastard.

My front legs curled up over my head, trying to hide me from the outside world, and I practically started screaming into them as I broke down and began to cry.

I screamed until I could feel my vocal cords bleeding.

I screamed until the voice in my head decided to stop speaking.

I screamed until my tears dried up.

I screamed until I could not anymore, and then I let myself gasp for air.

I slowly stood up, and after a few more falls, I finally reached my hooves. I stood in front of my mirror, but I kept my head down, afraid of what I would see if I looked into it.

"DO IT, LOOK AT YOURSELF, AND SEE WHAT YOU COULD HAVE BECOME IF YOU HAD NOT BEEN A COWARD! IT"S TIME TO SHOW YOU WHAT I SHOULD HAVE THIS ENTIRE TIME!"

"No. Whats the point?" I would say to the voice in my head.

DO.

IT.

"FINE!" I would scream as I slowly looked up and saw nothing but my own reflection—which seemed to be off in some way. I was about to doubt this when the reflection spoke in a voice that sounded like mine.

"Hello." It would say with a toothy grin.

"Who are you?" I say with confusion.

"I am you, only better, and I have something to show you."

"What are you saying?" I say, but this thing simply ignores me. The thing's horn emits a dark red aura. The entire world moves around me as I am drawn into the mirror, the world flowing away like water in a toilet bowl.

"Time for a trip down memory lane."

I felt nothing for a very long time. It felt like I was floating through nothingness, and it was both familiar and unfamiliar. I was unable to move or breathe during this state; all I could do was float aimlessly in any direction, sensing movement even though I could not see where I was going.

Then, slowly but steadily, I felt myself drift faster, and after an even longer period of time, I felt as if I had been catapulted across this seemingly empty space. The idea of sensation was gradually reintroduced to me as I became faster and my senses began to reassemble.

First was touch; I could feel the air whip across my body at incredible speed.

Then came smell, I could smell this weird metallic sent.

Third came taste; the same metallic taste was in my mouth.

At last, my eyes opened, revealing these light streaks traveling past me at breakneck speeds. And the seemingly empty space grew brighter and brighter until there was an increasing amount of light that blinded my newly opened eyes. I was moving too quickly to close my eyes, and soon the light became too intense for me to bear. I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks.

With the speed at which I was moving, I could actually feel the blood being forced from my body, either by being pushed out of existing holes or by creating new ones. I tried screaming, but I could not hear myself.

Then, out of nowhere, everything went dark.

I open my eyes, and there in front of me is the distorted version of myself that I saw in the mirror before that strange dream, which made me shiver.

"Hello again, welcome to Tarturas."

"WHAT? I'M DEAD?!" I would yell, sitting straight up with my eyes wide.

My clone would snicker. "No, you twat, you missed that chance long ago as I am sure you remember, we are in your head, well specifically where your memories go."

"And why are we here?"

"Because I need to show you something." he would say pulling me up to my hooves with magic.

"Who even are you and what do you need to show me that you needed to bring us here?"

"GOD!" he would yell

"So many bucking questions! But fine, I will humor you."

"I am the voice in your head, your self-deprecating thoughts, if you will; call me Pain. And as for what I have to show you, you will find out soon enough. So move your ass; we have got a long way to go." He would say this, and then use what I believe to be magic to force me to walk with him.

"What? That explanation is completely nonsensical. Those are my own thoughts; yes, they occurred naturally, but I was still thinking them at the time. How can I just have a strange, alternate personality all of a sudden?"

"Actually, I do not believe I am an alternate personality, and from what I can tell, this is all a dream, and you are simply puppeteering different characters in your head, similar to the poems you enjoy writing so much. It feels as though your mind created a narrative for you to follow in order to teach you a lesson, and in the process, it made me, a physical embodiment of your self hatred to help guide you. So at your service and all that shit."

"I believe that the only reason your mind was able to do this at all was because you wept yourself to sleep. And your mind received some inspiration from the thoughts you were having at the moment you fell unconscious."

"Furthermore, who knows? I could make enough of an impression on this dreamscape, memories, or whatever else this place is that your mind might carry me around as a little advisor to assist you with anything you might need assistance with. if you catch my drift?" The last bit, Pain would say with a hint of I'll intent.

"Yes, I believe I understand; there is a possibility that I will be stuck with you for the rest of my life. Thank you, but I would rather kill myself."

"Yeah, just like you tried before? or would you actually commit to it this time?" Pain would say, stopping in place, his head cocked to the side, his neck cracking and snapping just to look at me, he looked at me with a horrifing expression. His jaw appeared to be longer than normal, and it was gradually dropping to the ground, with his eyes bleeding black liquid with no eyeballs visible whatsoever.

I would jump back and look at him with disgust. In an instant, the black liquid that was dripping from his eyes was sucked back into his sockets as his head and jaw snapped back into position. Pain would continue trotting chuckling while doing so.

"Now get up here, we are almost there!" Trotting up to a massive metal door that appeared to be attached to the side of a mountain, akin to Cantorlot, especially because the mountain appeared to be a miniature version of the actual mountain, with the vault door in place of the actual city.

I would trot up next to the huge vault. "I'm getting a bad feeling from this door." I would say.

"Ha!" Pain would give a small laugh "Makes sense; this is where all your repressed memories go, your secret vault, if you will. This is what I wanted to show you. Pain's horn would flare to life, wind turning and twisting around its power. I will explain more once we get the damn thing open.

"What?! No, this is my mind after all, if I put this here then it must have been for a good reason and I think its ment to stay closed!" I would yell over the rushing wind.

"I'm sorry, sense when did you have a choice? Pain's eyes darkened once more, a waterfall of black liquid spilling from his eye sockets. I am here to guide you, remember? And this is how to do it. I do not want to see you fail over and over because you will get tired of trying to kill yourself and will just do it eventually, and as you said, I would never leave you, so you will not leave me either." Pain's eyes would then go back to normal magic still building in his horn as his expression softened.

"Sigh."the magic in the air seemed to dissipate and he would look at me with a more sympathetic expression.

"Ink Vein, you have to understand something. You must realize that I do everything I can to support you, regardless of how much it may seem like I despise or insult you. And you may not believe me, but tell me this, everytime time sompony would insults you, how much does it actually hurt these day's?"

I would think for a second. "Not so much anymore, why?"

"Exactly! I hurt you in order to make you stronger, I always have. Because whenever we would just sit and do nothing and try to be ourselves, we would be hurt, whether it was by our parents or bullies at school. I only made you feel pain to make you stronger. so then eventually you won't be bothered by it anymore."

"So, I am truly sorry, because I am you, and I understand your pain; in fact, I felt it as well. But you must relive these memories—the ones you hid away because of who you believe you will become. I am doing it for your benefit. I need you to know that no matter how dangerous you feel, no matter how blood thirsty, its ok. You need to learn to accept the monster, lean into it, become one with it, become one with me, and when you do that no one will ever be able to hurt us again. We can make that damn biggot of a stallion pay for trying to take our Pinkamina from us, and if you want to do that you need to be better."

"So, Once again I apologize, but we are out of time. Good bye, and I will see you when you wake up."

I begged him to stop, but I could not even speak because my body went limp, frozen in a standing position. The world appeared to be flying all over the place and accelerating, until the ground literally spun around me and collided with my body. As it did, the world fell apart, leaving what was left of it speeding behind me as I was propelled into yet another void.

And like in the last one, I was moving fast, I could see more of the streaks of light that I had seen before. As I flew faster, I noticed something in the distance. When I finally collided with it, I emerged in the sky above Canterlot. But as I came out of what seemed to be a portal, I was still moving at the same speed, I was falling very very fast and I was aimed right at my old school

I would hit the building, but instead of feeling pain, I would be confused as I fell through the ceiling. Finally, I would be left floating in the middle of a hallway, which I knew led to my old locker. As I recalled the abuse that had occurred in these hallways—the majority of which had occurred at my locker at the end of the hall—my eyes would well up with tears.

"NO, STOP! I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE! NOT AGAIN!" I would scream, choking on my own tears, but as I yelled this. The force making me fly took this as the que to act again. I would then go flying down the hallway at a speed that I was convinced even a wonderbolt could not reach.

Finally, I saw the end; there in the distance by the lockers at the end of the hall, I saw myself, my young self, and as I moved towards myself, I braced for impact, but yet again no pain came, only confusion. As I collided, everything went black.

It had been a rough day. To start, when I told my parents about the bullying, they did not think I was telling the truth; instead, they said I had deserved it because I was a failure and would not amount to anything, and that I was lucky they had bothered to send me to school in the first place.

Second, I had forgotten my locker pass code, so I am now missing class trying to get my locker open so I can have the notes for today's math test. However, I believe that I am deliberately taking my time at this point because I do not want to deal with another lecture because my life is already awful as it is without some teacher yapping in my ear.

"Well, well, well, look who it is." I could hear somepony say to my left. The voice I heard I knew well, it was the voice of Sandy Starsport. The popular pony, who was simultaneously hated and adored by all of the other ponies in the school.

Usually, I could avoid any long-term harm if I tried to ignore him, so that's what I did, I ignored him.

"So, your going to play this game again, huh? Don't you remember what happened last time you stayed quiet?"

"..."

"Oh, I see you want me to try and cut the pathetic cutie mark off again dont you? I mean do you even really need it? It's
supposed to mean your creative right? So, what makes you believe that any pony in this world will ever love anything you create?"

My eyes widened as I realized I had reached a dead end and my rear end had collided with another locker as I began to back away from him.

My voice would tremble. "Please stop."

Sandy's horn would start to glow as a small knife would float up and out of his bag. "Don't worry, I am just going to get rid of that worthless mark. And who knows, a new, better one could take its place." Sandy would say.

The knife then started to fly toward me; it was aimed at my flank. In a moment, I utilized my magic to deflect it, sending it flying straight back at Sandy, who had dodged it the last second, his eyes going wide as he slowly started to look back at me, anger taking over his features.

"Well, it appears that the little twat has grown some balls. Let us see how he handles a good beating." Sandy would say, quickly moving over to me.

"No! No, please, I'm sorry!" I begged, but I'm sure it met deaf ears.

He stepped forward, slamming his hoof into my face, sending me sprawling to the ground. I could already tell that my nose was bleeding, even before I wiped the blood away. He came closer stomping on my head over and over again as I cried and begged him to stop but they never did; no pony ever stops.

Stomp!
Stomp!
Stomp!

Over time, the agony gradually became intolerable; I felt compelled to fight back, so I did.

Stomp!
Stomp!
Stomp!

The sound of Sandy's hooves hitting me ran down the hall for anypony to hear, but like always, nopony one came.

Sandy was too preoccupied with trying to beat me to death to notice the magic emanating from my horn as it flared to life. Sandy was repeatedly hitting my head, and I was beginning to lose consciousness as my magic aura gradually extended to the lone knife that was lying on the ground.

Stomp!
Stomp!
Stomp!

Another splatter of blood to stain the hall with every blow. But through the red, I could feel it: the knife had been successfully lifted.

Stomp!
Stomp!
Stomp!

With those final three blows, it was time for my counterattack.

"STOP IT!" I would cry out as the knife flew right into Sandy's head, and the only sound in the hall was his body hitting the ground lifeless. But I did not stop there I have come this far I need to make sure the job is finished. I would stand up almost falling right back onto my face but I managed, I stood over sandy's body and with my magic I would stab him again and again and again and again and again. I could not deny that I enjoyed this; I enjoyed finally being in control and being able to hurt somepony else for a change; it was a nice feeling that I craved more of.

As I sat there, using my magic to stab Sandy repeatedly, I felt a smile spread across my face. But as the blood splashed on my face with each puncture, mixing with the blood that was already there, I could hear a tiny little voice deep inside my head screaming that this was not right. It said, STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!

Then finally I gave in to the voice letting it take over.

"STOP IT!"

"CRACK!"

I appeared back in my bathroom to the sound of a cracking mirror. My mirror was broken badly by my telekinesis after I apparently used my magic in my sleep during that panic attack I had in my dream.

As I take deep breaths and lean on my sink with tears streaming down my face, my heart begins to race. I start to feel something coming up so I lean over and puke into the sink.

I straightened up and then met that fucking faker in the face as I looked in the mirror.

"Welcome back to the land of the living mate. have a nice dream?"

I just stared at myself in the mirror, my face broken up in strange ways in the broken shards, hoping to show how pissed I was.

"Aww, don't look so upset don't you feel better now knowing what you are capable of? We can finally get Pinkamina, we can kill that fucker of a stallion."

I grit my teeth. "I refuse to be like that anymore; that's why I hid it away. I am not going to commit murder no matter how much we want to. I mean stalking and taking pictures of ponies isn't enough of a crime?!" I would yell at the mirror I would probably look crazy to anypony watching.

"You know, the more you try to make me like you, the more I want to kill you!" I would continue.

"Oh, you want to kill me? Fucking do it then, but you need to remember, I am you, and you are me, if you want to kill me, you need to kill you." Pain would say with a shit-eating grin, mocking my voice and imitating the way I would speak when I recite poetry.

"JUST SHUT UP!" I would scream as I used my magic to completely shatter the mirror, sending glass shards flying everywhere and onto the ground. As the glass fell, it would cut me and leave tiny scratches all over my body. I could still make out parts of myself in the larger shards of broken glass scattered across the floor.

I can not help but think of Pinkie as I stare at the shattered glass. Her smile, her scent, the way she looked, and even the way she would hold herself in bed as if she needed a cuddle, Every time I saw her hold herself that way, I could picture myself in her embrace.

"Thats right." Pain would say like the hiss of a snake

"Remember our one true love. you know we have a chance to get her back we just need you to cooperate and do what you need to do."

"No, stop making me think of her; she does not want me, so stop!" I would scream at Pain's voice. witch was no longer coming from the mirror and was instead coming from my shadow, which was cast by the light beneath the door.

"Thats funny, last time I checked I can't make you think of things, I can only tell you things. But then again, I am technically just your thoughts charicterized into a living from, so you cannot blame me because I'm not real, you twat."

I would begin to break, and slowly I would start to actually listen to pain.

I would feel Pain enter my mind, his voice no longer coming from the outside as he would speak in my mind.