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In the depths of the dark, cold night, I lay alone, gazing up at the pale blue roof of my caravan, the flickering flames of grief and despair dancing across my face.
My thoughts ran wild, racing back and forth between the memories I had buried away, the questions I had never answered, and the solitude that had become a constant companion.
The memories of my mother, dead and gone, and the knowledge that no one would ever fill that void gnawed at my soul.
Memories of her pride as she saw my first attempts at magical tricks, only to be quickly extinguished by the recollection of her agonized screams, her fire-ravaged form etched deep into my mind.
What do I exist for?
That was the nagging thought I had once more and could not put out of mind when that dreadful night ended.
Who was I in the first place? What was the purpose behind the paint and the pretense?
I found it harder and harder to answer that question, given that I live off a mere stage persona. It had been years since I simply existed as I am, and I was struck by the realization that I had no idea what I was pretending to be anymore.
Was I a magician, a dream weaver, or just a charlatan?
And then she came and within a second, I felt as if my existence regained its meaning.
Hated for her past mistakes, not unlike me, she was outcasted by society. Out of all the ponies she could have chosen- she befriended me.
She truly understood me. She treated me as an equal, not as transient laughing stock. I was loved, I felt whole for the first time since foalhood.
But it was not possible to sustain that feeling, not for someone so used to the fabric of a fairy tale. I was undeserving of her never-ending kindness.
It was only a slip-up, only a moment of weakness, and yet it was enough to shatter my illusions, my hopes, and my dreams. She was gone.
If the power and greatness you think you hold are truly yours, why do you drive everyone away? You’re like the same sides of a magnet, pushing and repelling away anyone who tries to hold or take care of you.
The more I pondered, the more I realized the futility of my situation, the sheer depth of the misery and emptiness that permeated my life. I had experienced years of abandonment and rejection, and now I had managed to push away the only one who might have offered me solace and comfort.
Once again, the Great and Powerful Trixie is left alone. Once more, that light was snatched away, and those memories were set on fire, soon to be a pile of cinders.
But I'm used to that, aren’t I?
I've lived a life of smoke and mirrors, of applause and abandonment. So, why does it still hurt?
Why is every flicker of fire, every dark shadow so painful for me to feel, so terrible to behold? As tears stream down my face, I look at the pile of ash that used to be all those memories.
It feels appropriate, you know. The flames had taken away everything from me, besides, I only bring pain and misery anyway. Why should I even exist?
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At this moment, that specific question remains unanswered.
As the flames begin to consume me, the only response I can muster is a bittersweet smile. A smile tinged with regret and a hint of acceptance.
As I lie there, my mind drifts back to a time when everything seemed simpler. The memories of my past performances and the reactions of my audience flood my thoughts.
The gasps of amazement, the thunderous applause, the fleeting sense of adoration. I was once the star of the show, the center of attention, but now I find myself alone and lost. Nothing but a shell of who I pretended to be for all of those years.
The questions that have plagued me for so long resurface once more. Who am I without my great and powerful facade? What is my true purpose in life?
The void that is taking place within my heart presses down harder every second. The inferno of doubt and fear spreads through my mind, engulfing all that is in its path.
I feel an overwhelming sense of defeat seep into every part of my being. Maybe this is what I am fated to do, to be cursed with the eternal presence of my demons and the ungodly mysteries that control my life.
When the fires blaze, and I find that any light from it, I know that maybe the only way to oust my unrest is to let it burn me down. Perhaps this is the way out?
The warmth of the flames engulfs me, wrapping me in a cocoon of comfort and familiarity. A strange sense of homecoming, as if I've finally found the place I've been searching for.
In this moment of surrender, I feel a sense of liberation, as if shedding the weight of my past, letting it turn to ash.
The fires danced before my eyes, mesmerizing me, welcoming me, offering a release from the pain and self-hatred that had always plagued me.
I let go of the pain and regret that have plagued me for so long. I am no longer the Great and Powerful Trixie, just a wandering soul seeking redemption in the fiery embrace of destiny.
As the flames enveloped me, a sense of resignation washed over me. I surrendered to the fire, my body and soul becoming one with the inferno.
The pain and sorrow that had haunted me throughout my life seemed to burn away, replaced by a feeling of peace and release.
In a moment of quiet acceptance, the Great and Powerful Trixie was extinguished, leaving behind only the warmth of the fire and the flickering embers of my past.
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