Fluttershy stared at the flower-patterned wallpaper, doing her very best to breathe slowly despite her thundering heartrate. Her front hooves scraped against each other, their edges cracked and raw from the constant rubbing motion.
“Go on, Fluttershy,” her therapist said.
His soft, non-threatening voice nearly made her leap off the divan. Still she sat, heart racing, hooves sore, and eyes fixed on the wallpaper. Her therapist, Golden Grape, remained out of sight; talking to an unseen pony was much less nerve-wracking.
She took a deep breath, her teeth chattering and her wings clamped to her sides. “A-and then… all the ponies in the store t-turned and stared at me… a-and one of them said…”
The only sound, aside from her own barely-controlled breathing, was that of Golden Grape’s pencil scratching across paper. “What did they say?”
She broke eye contact with the wall, opting to stare down at her own shivering form instead. “N-nice to see you, Fluttershy. That’s what they said.”
“Did you remember your breathing exercises?”
“Y-yes… eventually.”
“Did you run away again?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “N-no… It was more of a fast, terrified walk to pay for my groceries and leave.”
“Fluttershy—”
“I’m s-sorry, Dr. Grape!” she buried her head in her mane, her guilt even stronger than her remembered terror.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You’ve come a long way from being too terrified to even set hoof in a crowded store. That’s real progress.”
Her mane must have covered her ears, too. He couldn’t have actually said progress. Surely he meant to say “you should just stay in your cottage with your animals from now on” or even “maybe you should move back in with your parents.”
Tears formed in her eyes. “I’m such a scaredy-pony. I-I’m never going to get better, am I?”
Mane or no, she distinctly heard Dr. Grape’s papers shift and his pencil drop onto his desk. When he spoke next, he was standing next to her. “You are making progress, Fluttershy, whether you see it or not. Perhaps you just need a to try a new approach.”
“Like what?”
“Let’s think back to the store. How many ponies were there? Ten? Twenty?”
“F-f-fifteen. I-I c-counted through the window before I went in.”
“Did you know any of their names?”
“N-no.”
“Imagine for a moment that there were only… let’s say five of them, and that they were all your friends.”
“My friends?”
“Yes, your friends. You consider your animals your friends, don’t you?”
“Yes, but they’re animals. Being friends with ponies is different.”
“What if it didn’t have to be different?”
Fluttershy’s shivering slowed. She brushed her mane aside and, after a small fright at seeing Dr. Grape’s shadow, resumed staring at the wallpaper. “How could it… not be different?”
“What if there were ponies that you weren’t shy around, that you could tell anything to? Ponies that cared about you just as deeply as you care about your animals.”
“That… sounds nice. But five ponies? I don’t know if I’ll ever have that many friends…”
“Then how about just one?”
“Well… one wouldn’t be so scary… I hope. Talking to one pony at a time isn’t as hard… sometimes.”
“Then that’s your challenge for this week: tell somepony your name. Have a conversation even, if you can manage it.”
She took a deep breath, simply to avoid taking a dozen shallow ones. “But what if they’re mean, or don’t hear me?”
“It doesn’t matter if they’re awful or become your lifelong friend. You putting forth the effort is what counts. If you can do that even once this week, if you can make a friendly introduction with somepony new, then there’s no doubt at all that you’re making progress.”
She bit her lip. “And… if I can’t?”
“Then we’ll keep working on getting you there.”
“Okay… I’ll… I’ll try. I really will!”
“Excellent! Our hour is just about to end. We’ll have a lot to talk about next week, I’m sure.”
Fluttershy stood, her jaw set and her heart resolute. “We sure will. Thanks, Doctor Grape.”
She strode out of the office and into the waiting room, basking in the tiny glimmer of self-confidence that followed nearly every therapy session. A new week was dawning, a week in which she’d do something monumental and life-changing: she’d meet somepony new and tell them her name. Maybe they would even hear her. Maybe they’d even tell her their name and then walk away quietly. Dr. Grape was right; she was making progress, and any day now she’d prove it.
And then somepony sneezed.
Fluttershy made a screaming run for it, careening through the open front door. So complete was her terror that she didn't notice the chariot flying overhead or the unicorn and baby dragon seated inside.