Nopony will ever know
A pony with fur as white as milk, a mane a mix of light pink and dark purple, eyes a dark pink, and a horn as normal as they come, sat on her bathroom floor, staring down at the red mark on her left foreleg. It was bright red and had the marking of pony teeth, with a small bit of slavia left behind.
Fresh.
It burned and throbbed as the cells tried to repair the damage somepony had caused it. She slowly lifted up her right hoof and rubbed the area around it. The bite had taken off the fur in that area, leaving the skin underneath open to infection and cold air. She wiped her hoof off on the floor, getting the blood that had stained her pure, white fur off.
She looked at her right foreleg and saw more bite marks running up it. They were dull and lighter in color, showing off the age of the bites. Soon nopony would see them.
Nopony would discover her secret.
“This one was really bad,” she muttered to herself, just to hear the sound of somepony’s voice. “Better clean it before it gets infected, or I bleed out.” She let out a small, dry chuckle.
She stood up, using only three of her hooves. She knew from experience that putting pressure on a wound would only cause her pain. Not that wasn’t hard to guess, but sometimes ponies don’t think and try to do what they normally do, only to get slapped in the face by the new reality that something was wrong with their body.
She stumbled over to the sink and turned the facets on. She stuck her uninjured hoof under the water to test the temperature; cold. It would take awhile before it warmed up.
She really should have somepony look at her water heater.
She looked up at the mirror hanging above the sink. Staining the corner of her mouth was blood. She opened her mouth and saw white fur--also stained with blood-- stuck between her front teeth.More blood dripped out of her mouth and onto the white sink, staining it just like it stained her fur.
“Ugh. I hate the taste of fur,” she muttered. She spat out all the blood from her mouth. The water washed away the blood that was closest to it, but the spots further back stayed. She would have to wash it out before it hardened, but that would be for later. She had other things to take care of.
She gently placed her injured leg on the sink and used her other hoof to pick out the fur from her teeth. Some small strains fell down the sink drain, but the larger clumps she threw into the waste bin beside it.
She didn’t need a stopped up sink after all.
She put her hoof under the water. It was finally warm enough.She let the water fill up her hoof before she quickly threw it to the side of the sink, where the blood was, slowly washing it away. The once bright red liquid turned a light pink as the water washed it away and down into the drain.
It took a few tries before she finally washed it all away.
“Now comes the hard part,” she said. She looked down at her foreleg and sighed. Carefully she moved it to the water. She hissed slightly at the sting of the warm water hitting her fresh wound. No matter how many times she did this it always stung.
The blood staining her fur had hardened in the short time span she had done her things. The water tried its best to wash away her sins the blood, but it could only get the weaker spots. She would need to use soap to clean the rest, but...that was something she couldn’t bring herself to care about at the time.
She lifted up her good hoof and pressed lightly on the mirror. A little click pricked her ears before the mirror moved an inch. Her horn lit up in a light aura as she used her magic to open the mirror wider to reveal many different things hiding behind it in the shelves.
Toothpaste, a hairbrush, bandaids, a thermometer, and different medical supplies one bought for home was all hidden in the cabinet. Well, not exactly hidden. It wasn’t uncommon for a pony to have a mirror wall cabinet after all,and all the items she had inside were no different than what anypony had.
She lifted up a grey bottle and unscrewed the white cap. It was peroxide to clean out the wound and make sure it didn’t get infected. She tilted the bottle to the side, but nothing came out. She tilted a bit more, but still nothing. She let out a frustrated groan.
She continued to turn it until the bottle was almost upside down before some of it poured out onto the wound. Just barely enough to cover it. She sighed and rolled her eyes, “looks like I’ll need to head to the market again,” she muttered as she threw the bottle away.
It seemed lately she had been going to the market lately for peroxide. Were ponies getting suspicious of her? Did they even remember her purchases, or was it drowned out by the million other purchases from other ponies that came before and after her? Besides, it wasn’t like she only just brought peroxide.
That would be too suspicious.
She always made sure to buy some other groceries, such as food or supplies for her writing work. She even made sure to buy extra bandaids to make the peroxide seem even less important.
Nopony suspected a thing.
But maybe she should look into other remedies just to be safe, like an ointment. They had plenty that would disinfect wounds. Too bad it would take a lot longer for the ointment to absorb into the wound unlike the peroxide which only took a few minutes, leaving behind only a wet spot.
She looked down at her foreleg and saw the medicine wasn’t bubbling up anymore, a sign that it was done. She looked back up at the cabinet and lit up her horn, grabbing the roll of bandage wrap. She stretched it out and started to wrap it around her foreleg.
A few wraps around and a tight knot was all it took to cover up the wound. That would help it heal faster.
She returned the wrap to its place and closed the mirror cabinet. She turned and exited the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She noticed she had a light limp as she walked, but that was nothing new. She would have it for a while until the wound healed more.
As soon as she stepped out into her living room, a loud ringing rang over her house. Twelve rings. It was lunch time, according to the town’s tower clock.
“Time to meet up with my friends,” she said.
She limped over to the door. Right beside it was two pairs of black boots. The boots she always wore when she went outside to hide her bandages and old wounds. She would have liked a color that wasn’t so noticeable against her, but it was hard to find with fur so white, and white boots seemed to be rare.
At first her friends had been surprised when she started to wear them. After all, she had never shown an interest in clothes unless it was a special event--like most ponies--but she had reassured them that she just had an interest in the boots and liked how they felt. After a few times seeing them on her, their shock was gone and they had come to accept it as a part of her. One of them even started wearing boots as well.
She could never let them know the truth, because if she did, they would no doubt worry and force her to go to the hospital, and then the doctors would admit her to the mental hospital. She wasn’t crazy! Biting was just a way to release the anger she had at times, or to relieve stress when life got too much sometimes.
“It’s very healthy,” she had told herself so many times. “It’s better than keeping it all inside all the time.”
Other ponies screamed, tore up paper, or even threw things to release her anger. Her biting was just another method to let out her anger, yet no pony would understand it. She knew this, but she was fine with it. She would just have to keep it a secret until society understood her thinking.
She slipped her boots on and opened her door. The day was bright and sunny. She took in a deep breath of the fresh air and released a sigh. She hummed as she shut and locked the door behind her.
She headed towards the cafe where her friends were waiting for her, limbing as she went. ‘I can’t keep telling them that I slept on it,’ she thought to herself. ‘They might start getting suspicious. I’ll just tell them I hit my leg on something.’
She smiled as she walked, happy with her plan.
She didn’t notice the ponies that stopped to stare at her as she passed them, or heard their hushed whispers.
‘Nopony will ever know.’