//------------------------------//
// A Cutting Alternative 
// Story: The Feel of Live Steel 
// by Mockingbirb 
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Several years before the events of "Equestria Girls"

Hiding in her parents' attic, Wallflower Blush paged through a copy of "Teen Angst Magazine." She'd found it in the bushes behind the schoolyard.

Wallflower thought, "I DO feel terrible in ways I don't even know how to express. But would cutting myself really make me feel better?"

On the next page, she read, "Scars all over your body are how other people can see you're sensitive and deep!"

"Hmm," Wallflower said to herself. "Is this...trendy? Would I be cool? Because now I'm just short, and frumpy, and dumpy, and...mostly short. And boring. I must be the most uncool kid in the world.

"But even if DO I cut myself...will that really do me any good? Will I really feel like a better person? Will I be a cool kid, a trendsetter? Or will I just be a sad girl with scars?"

Wallflower sighed.

"If only I had a way of cutting that was COOL."

Behind her, something thumped to the floor. She turned around, and picked up an old book: "Ye Compleat Guide To Ye Traditional and Olde-Fashioned Art of Sword Fighting, Steel Against Steel."

"Hmmm," she said. "This seems like a win-win situation."

She paged through the book. Before long, she was fantasizing about being a total badass who could stand up for herself, and maybe even talk to people. While swordfighting. But later that afternoon, she became distracted and forgot about it.

***

That night at dinner, Wallflower Blush spoke up. "Mom?" she said. "I don't feel very good."

Rosy Blush looked disdainfully at her daughter. "If you feel sick, just don't throw up at the table. It's disgusting, and the rest of us are eating dinner."

Rosy took another bite of peas, and slowly chewed it. When she was done, she said, "Is this that anorexia thing some girls start to do when they're about your age? Because I completely understand. I wouldn't want to to let myself get fat either. And you HAVE been looking a bit pudgy. If you want to grow into a healthy young woman, this is an excellent time to start developing good habits."

Rosy took another bite of peas. She slowly chewed that bite twenty-two times. She knew, because she silently counted. It was part of her diet.

"Well?" Rosy said. "Are you expecting me to get you some syrup of ipecac? Because I suppose that's fine to start with, but sooner or later you're going to have to learn how to take care of these things without my help."

"Mom!" Wallflower said, "That's not what I meant."

"Then what DID you mean?" her mother asked. "Did you mean you don't feel the OTHER kind of good? Because everyone has to make moral compromises to live in this world, dear. Don't think you're somebody special."

Wallflower sighed. "I hate my life. Sometimes I just want to kill myself."

"Wallflower!" Rosy said in a scandalized voice.

"Well, sometimes I do."

"Young lady," Rosy scolded, "Do you realize how selfish suicide would be? Your father and I have worked our fingers to the bone raising you and taking care of you. And here you go acting like you don't appreciate our hard work at all."

Wallflower's father said, "What? Did you say anything important? I was just thinking about how well work went today. A big developer wanted to buy a thousand baby oak trees, and I palmed off poison oak seedlings on them instead. I made so much money, now I can afford to buy another jet-ski! Next time we go to the lake, I'll have TWO jet-skis, one to tie to each foot." 

He laughed in a roguish way that might have been charming, if you didn't pay any attention to the words that came out of his mouth before and after. "Won't the other dads be so jealous!"

Rosy smiled politely. "That's nice, dear. But don't change the subject. Wallflower was just talking about suicide."

"Suicide?" Pomelo said. "You're far too young to be thinking about suicide, young lady. Think how sad you'll look laying in your coffin. Listen to your mother. You should at least lose some weight first. Really get into vegetables."

"That's what I told her!" Rosy complained. "But young people today! They never listen."

"My parents love me so much," Wallflower said. "No wonder I want to kill myself."

Pomelo shook his head. "It might seem like we're hard on you. But it's only because we care."

"Exactly!" Rosy said.

"This makes me want to cut my throat."

Pomelo said sternly, "Young lady, if you even TRY to commit suicide, you're grounded for a month."

Wallflower's mouth screwed up in a sudden, imperfectly stifled smile. "Grounded? Isn't that kind of the point?" She clamped a hand over her mouth, and made a funny noise. "Unless you want to have me cremated. At that point I probably won't care." Wallflower laughed. "Mom, I'd probably weigh less after being burned to ashes. And you could fit me into the skinniest jar you could find. So I guess you'd finally be happy with me. Or less UNhappy with me."

Pomelo smiled. "It's good to hear you laughing, dear. See, this world isn't such a rotten place after all."

"Sure," Wallflower Blush said. "But if the only thing that makes me happy is thinking about killing myself, something's really wrong."

Pomelo stood up, and put his hand on his daughter's shoulder. "I'll tell you what, honey. If you REALLY want to try self-harm, let's compromise. You mustn't kill yourself, but you can cut yourself a little, if that's what it takes for you to feel better."

Rosy said, "But not any place people can see! Do it somewhere that's hidden by clothes. And not too obvious. Do some Internet research, dear, and find out what parts of the body scar up the least after you cut them. I expect a three page report by bedtime tomorrow, complete with Wikipedia links."

Wallflower screamed. "Is this how you try to show you love me? Because it isn't working!"

"But dear," Rosy insisted, "We do this BECAUSE we love you. We don't want you to make any mistakes you might regret afterwards."

Wallflower sighed. "I know, Mom and Dad. You only treat me this way because you care." She sighed again.

Rosy and Pomelo smiled as they looked at their daughter, then at each other. Their daughter knew they cared!

***

The next day at dinner, Wallflower Blush sighed dramatically. 

Rosy said, "Dear? Sighing is NOT good dinner conversation. It's just being a brat."

Pomelo added, "Your mother is right. She knows how a young lady should act." He waggled his eyebrows. "How do you think she landed a catch like me?"

Wallflower sighed again. "I still feel like crap."

Pomelo tried to reassure her, which is what he thought a good father would do. "That happens to everyone sometimes, honey. I felt that way last year after I failed to meet my sales goal. But this year? Sales are going up so fast, I even expect to be able to pay for the lawyers! The point is, if you just keep trying, things will get better. I know they will."

"I know," Wallflower said. "Even if I just can't feel it. But I know you've got to be right. Even if I do still want to die." She sighed again.

Pomelo said, "You know what might make you feel better, honey? You could start playing a sport. Even if you gain some weight, you can say it's just muscle. Isn't it great to be able to gain weight AND be healthier?" He sucked in his stomach and pushed out his chest. "I know my water sports have done a wonder for MY figure."

Wallflower remembered a book in the attic. "Can I do any sport I want?" she asked.

"Sure!" Pomelo said breezily. "What sport do you have in mind?"

A tiny but genuine smile appeared on Wallflower's face. "Something that would let me take out my frustrations on other people."

***

A few weeks later, Wallflower's father died in a tragic boating accident. THREE jet-skis at the same time had turned out to be more than he could handle. To do him justice, EweToob already had some very impressive videos of him riding only TWO jet-skis at once. 

Wallflower hadn't seen the accident herself. She was at fencing class. In a rebellion against gender expectations, she'd chosen saber instead of foil. She'd read in her old book that a saber has an edge AND a point. It seemed to offer more ways to hurt people, the way so many people had hurt her.

When Wallflower's mother remembered to pick her daughter up that night, the girl was waiting in the dark, cold parking lot. To stay warm and less bored, Wallflower was still practicing introductory-level thrusts, lunges, and parries. For variety, the girl tried some moves she'd seen in the old book. The book no one but Wallflower knew she had.

It felt good, to move like that. She felt like someday, if she worked hard enough, no one would be able to hurt her.

Rosy Blush didn't mind emotional conversations, or hurting people. But she only felt comfortable when she herself was in control. Her husband's death was an enormous, life-changing event she couldn't do anything about. So when Wallflower asked where her father was, Rosy only said that Pomelo couldn't be there that night. 

At an early age Wallflower had learned better than to pry or poke, when her parents didn't want to tell her something. So she didn't ask questions. She knew if she HAD demanded answers, they had ways of making her sorry.

It wasn't until three days later at school, that Wallflower learned from a teacher's well-meaning sympathy that her father was dead.

That was the first time Wallflower punched a teacher in the face. And she got away with it. 

To be fair about the next few years, maybe Wallflower might have turned out better if her mother had neglected her more. It's hard to say.

But although Rosy wasn't good at admitting it to her daughter's face, the widow slowly grew proud of her rising young athlete. Wallflower Blush really did turn out to be a trendsetter. And soon enough, Wallflower got to hang out with any of the popular kids she wanted to. They just couldn't say no to her.




Author's Note

This story is set in a world where some elements in society pressure girls to form unrealistic body image ideals and to harm their own health?

But this is definitely not a partial roleswap fic between Sunset Shimmer and Wallflower Blush. Because that would be ridiculous.