Welcome To The Panic Room

The streets of Ponyville were always empty this time of night, or, well, they were supposed to be. No pony knows when exactly he came and even fewer know when he'll leave, I call him Shadow Mane, if only so the guards working to catch him know who they're talking about. Perhaps it would have been better if I had never known it, innocence is bliss after all.

I will never forget that night, even if I fail to clearly remember it. The way his mouth explored mine, the rough cobblestone pressed into my back, the fear. I lost something that night in that dark alley and gained something too. I'll never get it back, I'll never be rid of it either.

"Such a delicate flower. Weep, flower. Weep for your Angel."

I'll never be whole again.

"Weep for your Death."