The filly walked across cobble stone hallways and tiled floors. She jogged past drunken mares and colts passed out in their own vomit and urine, and her eyes stung from the horrid stench. When she reached a humble little filly's room door, she stopped and entered, and there she heard the empty hurls of what could only have been her sister, hanging over a toilet bowl.
"..Sweetie-b..be..lle.." and the shriveled up mare blacked out, forcing her young sister to painfully drag her home, again.
The next morning was like no other, Rarity wearing a pair of dark shades, and Sweetie Belle attempting to make an edible breakfast, and burning water in the process.
"Don't worry about me, I'm not very hungry Sweetie"
"But you look hungry."
"Please Sweetie, just leave it."
"Okay, sis." she replied innocently, unknowingly, while reaching for the cereal box and poured only one bowl.
Rarity felt horrible, inside and out. Her eyes were sore and red, and they threatened to close any second. And then she remembered it was a Wednesday. "Sweetie, I can't walk you to school today, I have a terrible headache." She thought for a few seconds to ponder what to say. Then she said " Would it be okay for you to walk with a friend or something?"
Suddenly a pang of guilt and sadness hit Rarity when she remembered; as far as she could recall, Sweetie Belle didn't have any friends, and part of the reason was because of herself and what she was.
She looked at the little one, a hint of melancholy in her eyes, but the little pink and white pony shrugged it off and claimed that she would, and soon left after gathering her things and saying farewell for the day.
And then Rarity was alone.
Today would be the third day in a row Rarity hasn't worked. But it didn't seem to be bothering her, the only thing bothering her was a mirror. 'Mirror, mirror, on the wall, why do you make me feel so small?' She felt worthless, just a tiny speck on a layer of dust, but in truth, small was the opposite of what Rarity felt physically.
She looked longingly into the mirror, yet all she could see were layers of extra fat that she didn't want. She bulged, it seemed.
'Ponies don't get it' she thought.
'I am not "beautiful." They can't hear the voices, telling me what could only be the truth.'
She retreated to her room, and got out her special knife, the one Sweetie Belle wasn't allowed to use. A crafts knife, but Rarity had recently been using it for private purposes.
It was scary, she thought, to be ready to die at such a young age. Something she had wanted for some time, even with her wit and smiles, she can't mask the pain. Something unending, feeling ugly, making you want to rid yourself of the world, so they don't have to see you. That blasted mirror, haunting her. If she weren't superstitious she would have broken it a long time ago, and probably had put the shards into better use.
But in the end, she was still a big sister. She needs to be a shining example for her sister. What a shining example I am...
She placed the the crafts knife to her tender skin, and a drop of blood stained her white coat. The small dot soon became a slit, and multiple lines alike were cut across on top of each other.
She placed the crafts knife down and retreated to the bathroom. She felt sick at the sight of blood, part of the reason why she cut. She hurled once or twice into the toilet until nothing came out, and as she stood, she vomited into the sink as well. There was no real vomit, just blood and acid.
Her stomach burned, and she lay in the foetal position on the tiled floor, crying. I can't end this... I can't even finish myself off... The mirror was laughing, she could hear it resonating in her head.'Die, die, die,' it guffawed, and the mirrors' slanted smile at her misery made her cry on the white tiled floor. She wanted to scream, but her throat was aching from purging.
Suddenly, she heard a door open from downstairs. A soft, sweet voice echoed off of the walls. "Rarity..." it seemed to whisper. Or were her ears simply beginning to fail her. She weeped silently. Gentle pattering footsteps reached nearer and nearer, and grasped her in fear. No one should see me like this! She frantically got off from the floor, washed off her blood and vomit from her arms and face, and pretended to be putting on make up.
Fluttershy appeared around the corner, and saw Rarity hunched over the mirror, placing eye shadow over her bloodshot eyes. She turned to her, a crooked smile on her face. "Oh.. hello Fluttershy, I hadn't expected you to be here-" Before Rarity could finish her sentence, Fluttershy ran up to Rarity and embraced her with the biggest hug that Rarity had ever felt from her. She hugged back, and after a minute, began to cry once more.
Hours seemed to have passed in those moments of togetherness, and through the blur of time, Rarity had reached her couch downstairs and a hot cup of something sat in her hooves. Rarity noted that bandages had been placed around her legs, and fresh blood had begun to stain them again. She shivered lightly, and stared into her cup. It smelled like chocolatl, and creamy white foam surfaced at the top of a dark purple brown liquid. She sipped gently, and the drink instantly burned her mouth and soothed her throat.
She looked up, and saw Fluttershy sitting to her left. "Fluttershy, I-" as she was about to speak, she was interrupted again, by a gentle kiss on her cheek, and then again on her neck. Rarity stared in awe, and a hot flush went through her neck and face, and she pulsated with energy she had never felt.
"My mother once told me," Fluttershy began. "Once you start seeing demons, they'll eat you alive if you don't know how to fight them..." She looked her in the eyes with an innocence that wasn't there. "I learned that feeding demons won't make them go away. The only way to kill them is by not being alone all the time." Fluttershy reached for Rarity's hoof with a gentleness that was as inviting as her eyes.
"The demons that live inside of us will always be there, but you choose whether or not they kill you. Rarity, I love you too much to let you be this way. If you ever need me..." She looked at her own hooves, to her legs, where the faintest lines could be seen. "I'm always here for you."
Rarity looked into her eyes, and saw her own reflection. It looked like herself, her real self. She was messy, god-awfully skinny, and tear stained. But she was herself.
