//------------------------------//
// Chapter Six: Alone in the Universe 
// Story: The Origin of Sunset Shimmer 
// by Godslittleprincess 
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	Sunset Shimmer sat in the waiting room of the Canterlot Hospital a good distance away from where her aunt and cousin were sitting.  Her mother had been admitted only a few minutes earlier, and from the frantic state of the nurses and orderlies, Prissy Pen’s condition appeared serious.  Sunset hoped against all reasonable hope that her mother would be alright and that she would not be left alone in the world with her awful family.
A short while later, the doctor emerged from Prissy’s room with his head hanging low.  Austerity and Prune Tart rose from their seats in respect while Sunset remained in her seat, looking at the doctor with pleading eyes.
“Well?” began Aunt Austerity, rather aloofly.
“She-she’s asking for her daughter,” said the doctor, turning to Sunset’s direction.
Sunset lifted her head and slowly got up and walked to the doctor.
The doctor stooped down until he could look at Sunset in the eye and said, “Little filly, we’ve done everything we can for your mom, but I’m afraid she might not last the night.”
Upon hearing those words, Sunset turned away from the doctor’s gaze as her eyes began to fill with tears.  This was so unfair.  Her mother was all she had left that really mattered, and now, she was going to lose her, too.
“If you hadn’t been stupid enough to run across the street without looking, she’d still be here,” she thought bitterly to herself.
“Sweetheart,” the doctor called, regaining her attention.  “Your mom wanted to be able to spend her last moments with you.  You may go in.”
Sunset slowly trudged her way into her mother’s hospital room.  Aunt Austerity and Cousin Prune Tart tried to follow her, but the doctor stepped in front of them.
“Just her daughter,” deadpanned the doctor.
Sunset walked up to her mother’s bed, utterly devastated by what she saw.  The strong, loving, protective mare who was her rock lay shattered on the hospital bed, wrapped in bandages that futilely attempted to hold her together.  Heartbroken, Sunset impulsively climbed onto the bed next to her mother.
Prissy Pen, feeling something move beside her, stirred.  She opened her eyes, seeing her daughter, her one treasure, curled up next to her, trying in vain to hold in her tears.
Prissy weakly wrapped her foreleg around Sunset Shimmer and said, “Hello, love.”
Sunset looked up at her mother, her eyes glistening with tears.  She suddenly broke down into hysterical sobs.
“Oh, Mama, I’m sorry,” Sunset wept. “I’m so, so sorry.  I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“Shh,” Prissy whispered as she began stroking her daughter’s mane.  “I know.  I know.  It’s not your fault.”
“But it is.  If I hadn’t messed everything up, none of this would be happening.”
Sunset continued to sob as she pulled her mother into a hug, burying her face into Prissy’s shoulder.  Unbeknownst to her, her mother was shedding tears with her.
“Sunset, look at me,” Prissy gently commanded, causing Sunset to lift her head.  “Don’t let anypony ever, ever tell you that you’re nothing but somepony who messes things up.  You are so much more than that, and I just know that someday, you’re going to do amazing things.”



Those were the last words that Prissy Pen ever spoke.  She had died with her daughter curled up beside her, holding her hoof.  A week later, Austerity held a funeral for her departed sister-in-law.
As Prissy Pen’s casket was being lowered to her grave, Prune Tart noticed her cousin looking absolutely miserable.  Sunset Shimmer was wearing the black hat and the black kerchief that she and her mother wore when they first arrived to Canterlot.  She sat on her haunches with her head hanging in grief and her eyes shut tightly, silently crying a torrent of tears.
Such a sight would have broken the heart of the hardest stone statue in the Canterlot Gardens and melted those of an entire herd of Windigos, but years of being raised like a polished trophy on a pedestal have made Prune Tart’s heart far more unfeeling.  Instead of seeking to comfort her unfortunate cousin as one would expect, she only thought of how to further break the poor filly, and she knew just what to say to do it.  All it took were five words, five little, seemingly insignificant words.
Prune Tart leaned over and whispered into Sunset’s ear, “It should have been you.”
Sunset bit her lip, trying to choke back the sobs that were threatening to escape her throat.  She slumped forward and buried her face in the grass, practically crushed under the weight of her guilt and sadness.  Aunt Austerity noticed this and frowned.
“For Celestia’s sake, sit up properly, child,” she hissed harshly.
Sunset didn’t move.  Aunt Austerity could banish her to the attic for the rest of her life for all she cared.  She was too miserable to do anything but cry.  Sunset had felt the pain of loss before when she lost her father.  This time, no pony was there to comfort her because no pony wanted to and no pony cared.



That summer could not have passed quickly enough.  Now that her mother wasn’t around to protect her, nothing was going to stop Aunt Austerity from giving Sunset Shimmer a “proper upbringing.”  Sunset was familiar with bedtime stories about ash-fillies being mistreated by wicked stepmothers, and she would have gladly traded her fate with theirs.  At least, their misfortune could be plainly seen through the rags and cinders.  Hers, on the other hand, was hidden beneath layers upon layers of expensive gowns that were much too hot and unbearably tedious tea parties with stuffy aristocrats.
Aunt Austerity expected her niece to behave at her standards at all times, and anything less than perfection was met with a sudden, sharp rap with a ruler.  If Sunset cried, Austerity would give her another switch, claiming that a proper young lady must not stoop to inelegant sobbing but accept discipline with poise and refinement.  Aunt Austerity was especially cruel whenever she made mistakes in front of guests.  As soon as the last of guests left, she would give Sunset twice as many smacks as mistakes, complaining the whole time about how Sunset was a terrible student who was incapable of learning anything useful.
“How dare you embarrass me in front of my guests!” Austerity would yell.  “What was your mother thinking?!  Marrying beneath her station.  Moving to a backwater country town.  Having you!  She could have at least kept her misfortune to herself, but no!  She had to pass it on to me, didn’t she?”
Sunset Shimmer would have been ecstatic skip her aunt’s social events and the punishments and insults that usually followed.  She’s even begged Aunt Austerity on several occasions to allow her to help Frau Zuckermane and the other servants in the kitchen just to avoid having to attend, but Aunt Austerity staunchly refused.  Having a family member of a prominent, well-respected member of the Canterlot elite, such as herself, working as a servant was simply unacceptable.
As if her aunt’s brutal insistence on turning her into a Canterlot lady wasn’t bad enough, Sunset also had to put up with Prune Tart’s machinations to make her life torture.  When no pony was looking or listening, Prune Tart would spit hurtful comments at Sunset about how she had no one left to love her and that no pony ever really loved her among other unspeakably abusive things.  When she was feeling especially spiteful, Prune Tart would trick Sunset into getting in trouble with her mother and watch the unfortunate filly get punished with barely concealed pleasure.
Sunset desperately prayed for school to start so she can escape from the horrible nightmare that her life had become.  She vowed to herself that as soon as school started, she would throw herself into her studies, make a name for herself, and become a powerful magician. She would become so powerful and well-respected that Prune Tart and Aunt Austerity will leave her alone and never hurt her again lest they incur her wrath.