Twilight Sparkle was still, blood seeping from a collection of scars on her back, each unique and each undeniably and utterly painful. She barely maintained consciousness as her fuzzy eyes glanced around the bars that bound her. With every breath and new surge of pain would be introduced to her, but at this point she had given up on caring about it.
It was funny. When she had first been told about such crippling depression she couldn't imagine the thought of wanting to kill oneself. But here, in this cell, she could not only imagine it, she could rationalize it. "I can't do it." She attempted to say, though it was mostly obscured by the pain that labored through her breaths.
She heard a shuffling come from a short distance away and raised her head to look through the bars. It was blurry, but after a few blinks she managed to focus her sight. The face of a familiar human gazed back at her, his face unreadable as usual. "What can't you do?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Just answer the question Twilight." He said, his voice strict and kind at the same time.
"I can't... go on." She wrestled the words out of her mouth.
"And why not?"
"I just... can't..."
"Of course you can, you're made of all the same stuff as the stronger ponies, as Celestia and Luna. You can do this easily." He said, eyeing her with his same depression-haunted face.
"The same... the same things?" He nodded, and Twilight lifted her head higher of the ground. "Y-you mean flesh and bones and stuff?" Her mind was shutting down, she could feel it.
"No, that would be stupid." He stood and began to walk away again. "I mean half a cup of impossibility, two quarts of ingenuity, and a single potent spark of madness."
((I can smell the cheese that's melting off the words from across the dimensional rift that separates me from my stories. (Which is thin due to George's little move)