//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 // Story: Princess Luna's Suicide Solutions // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// The hallway seemed to stretch on forever in either direction. Doors lined each side, each door just a few feet away from the one next to it. Each door was red, a garish bloody red. The tile floor beneath him was a soulless beige. The walls were off white, and the ceiling was utterly unremarkable. He opened the door that he stood beside and looked in. Inside, there was a white earth pony filly foal with pink and blue hair… And she was about to get a Hearts and Hooves Day card from a midnight blue with white dapples pegasus colt. Noctilucent gasped in horror, seeing the painful memory that he so hated. He slammed the door and stood breathing heavily. He began to walk down the hall, sucking in wind, trying to calm himself. This was not a pleasant place to be he suspected. Fearing what he might see, Noctilucent opened another door. Inside, he saw a room, a room he knew. There were flowers in vases all around, sad ponies stood about, and on a table at the other end of the room, there was a small silver urn with a photograph of a old grey haired mare. This was the funeral of Noctilucent’s grandmare, the place he first began to truly understand that he was alone in a crowd, as none of the ponies here could comfort him. They had all been strangers. He had been raised by his grandmare, his mother having abandoned him while he was young. He moved into the room. It was better than the long hall. It was depressing and bleak, but in here, there was something. He could see his younger self, a colt, in that awkward age where he wasn’t quite an adult, not yet, but he wasn’t a colt foal either. That troublesome in between stage that makes life so painful and awkward. “Real shame about what happened. First his mother, then his grandmare, poor colt is going to grow up troubled,” a relative said. “The real shame was his mother killing herself. Being a single mother is bad, but it isn’t anything to kill yourself over, what a damn shame,” the other relative said. Noctilucent froze. Did he know this? Or was this simply just a dream? Dreams came from what you knew, or so he understood, either that, or Princess Luna was having a go at him. His mind reeled. Strained carrots aside, Princess Luna had shown no real interest in actually torturing him. So this couldn’t be her messing with his head. She wouldn’t do that. Not like this. She loved him, and kept saying so. She wanted the hurt to end. At least, she kept saying she wanted the hurt to end. No. He must have heard it being said when he was young and then he had simply repressed it or not made a mental connection. He began to back away, moving towards the door. He slipped quietly back out into the hallway and gently shut the door. The hallway stretched endlessly in either direction. Behind each door was horror, of this there could no longer be any doubt. There was no way out of the hall, so he was going to have to go into a door and somehow face whatever was behind them. Or wake up. Somehow, Noctilucent knew that waking up wasn’t going to be easy. He trotted down the hall looking both left and right, hoping to see some variation in the doors. There were none. Blood red door, brass latches easily kicked open with a hoof. He opened one door and peered inside. There he was, in the dentist’s chair. He stared in horror, smelling smoke from the drill boring into his tooth, and heard the high pitched whine of the drill motor. He could see the restraints on his legs and the dentist leaning into his work. He could hear his own muffled screaming. He slammed the door violently. Nope. The long hallway stretched ever onward, and Noctilucent was no closer to escaping. He began to feel a dreadful sense of apprehension, not actually wanting to open up any more doors. Behind every door something terrible lurked, something awful awaiting no matter which door he opened. He opened another door and found himself peering into a room. He gasped, and blushed in embarrassment. On the bed was a naked supine unicorn mare, beckoning to his younger self. His drunken younger self. He had paid quite a few bits for her services. She was now trying to lure his younger self into her bed, her mare flesh crusted over from earlier customers. He saw his younger self cut and run, fleeing the room as fast as he could, virginity still intact. Noctilucent softly shut the door and and stood in the hallway. This wasn’t getting any easier. He couldn’t imagine what he might have to do in there to get past the room somehow and find a way out of this endless corridor. He proceeded down the hall and opened another door. He stuck his head inside. The room was dark. He walked inside, squinting his eyes, trying to see. He saw himself in his old bed, a colt once again. He was hiding under the blanket, trembling. And he knew what he was afraid of too. He crossed the room, closed the closet door, went to window, and then he closed the blinds, the horrible claw like tree branch outside no longer visible. Nothing happened. The door to leave the room was gone. There was only the closet door. Noctilucent began to curse softly. So much for this being easy. He stepped across the room, stood before the closet door, took a deep breath, and opened it, expecting to see unimaginable horror. He found Princess Luna instead, which he supposed was marginally better than unimaginable horror. “Who do you think you are thinking of me as being just above unimaginable horror?” Princess Luna demanded. “I could show you horror,” she growled. The scene shifted, and Noctilucent saw himself staring down at his own broken body in a bed. Blood was pooling over the sheets, staining them crimson. White bone protruded from his wing. Princess Luna stood nearby, covered in his blood. She looked terrified, worried, she looked like she was in pain. The same sort of pain visible on a mother when her foal has been grievously wounded. She was crying. A nurse took one look at Noctilucent’s wing and then vomited all over the floor of the now cramped hospital room. Doctors were working to stabilise him for surgery. Machines beeped. And then, the bed was wheeled out of the room and Princess Luna was left alone. She leaned against a wall, sobbing, great heaving sobs, heart breaking sobs, sobs that a mother with a broken heart might make. And Noctilucent felt his own heart breaking. He tried to touch her, to comfort her, and his hoof passed through her body. The horrible anguished cries she made were quite easily the worst sounds he had ever heard in his whole life. Each racking hitching sob was a physical blow in his mind, and Noctilucent had to escape. He pushed his way out of the hospital room, nearly slipping in the vomit puddle, he stumbled through the door on wobbling legs, and then he fell into a black void, stepping into nothingness, as there was nothing outside of the door, only a black void. He fell. It was a long way down. He hoped that Princess Luna would be there to catch him. Falling was awful, and it lasted forever. He wanted to be caught. He awoke in the dark covered in sweat and freezing. He had kicked off his blanket at some point, and the sheet was gone as well. The air was cool, nearly chilly. His room was black, dark, the walls and ceiling not visible in the velvet black. He heard the faint sounds of a foal crying. Shivering, he got out of bed and made his way down the hall, stepping at quietly as possible. His wing joint ached, a terrible burning throb. He stopped at Holly’s door. It was open. She was awake, trying to comfort the crying foal, feeding it another bottle. It sobbed and sniffled, laying on the bed beside the middle aged unicorn, kicking little legs, spitting out the bottle. “I think she was teat fed,” Holly said, seeing Noctilucent in the doorway. “She is not happy with this bottle.” “Poor thing,” Noctilucent said, looking at the foal. The foal was tiny, her pelt the colour of graham crackers, and she had a cream coloured mane and tail. She kicked and fussed, crying and spitting out milk everywhere. “Well, just don’t stand there looking stupid, I know you want to come in and see her up close,” Holly said. Feeling foolish, Noctilucent slowly entered the room and looked around as he did so. The walls were covered in photographs, hundreds of photographs of foals. A plaque with the Royal Lunar Seal hung upon the wall. There was a desk covered in papers, a filing cabinet, and Holly’s few possessions sat on a shelf. He stood at Holly’s bedside, feeling as though he was intruding, invading her space, standing next to a mare’s bed felt too intimate somehow. The dream imagery from earlier flashed in his mind and he felt the hot sting in his ears of a blush. He could smell the foal. She had that sweet smell that all very young foals had, that sweet smell that made you want to love them. That newborn smell. “How old do you think she is?” Noctilucent asked in a hushed whisper. “Maybe a week or two,” Holly answered. “How could somepony just throw a life away?” Noctilucent asked, feeling angry. The words echoed in his mind. How could somepony just throw a life away? He had just done it to himself. “I am sure ponies have their reasons,” Holly replied morosely. Surprising himself, Noctilucent nosed the foal, coming uncomfortably close to Holly, pressing his nose into the foal’s belly and inhaling deeply. He felt a strange closeness after breathing in the foal’s scent. He lifted his head and backed away. The foal had quieted a bit. “It never gets any easier,” Holly announced. “The bell I mean. Hearing it. Every time, it rips my heart open just a little and makes it bleed. It never gets easier.” Holly finally got the bottle into the foal’s mouth and it began to suckle. It was finally hungry enough to take anything. “I have only heard it once and I don’t know how you do it,” Noctilucent replied, shaking his head. “If I hadn’t of hugged Biscuit when I did, I think I might have broken down.” “Biscuit is a sad story with only one word,” Holly said. “Most of the foals here, I’ve noticed something after I’ve talked with a few. Suicide seems to be a common theme,” Noctilucent whispered. Holly nodded. “For many, but not all,” she replied. “Arroyo’s mother lost custody of him because of rampant alcoholism.” “I see,” Noctilucent said. “And there is this little bundle of joy here,” Holly said, looking down at the foal beside her. The foal was still feeding. “She seems sweet,” Noctilucent said. “Suicide. I hate it. It wrecks everything. These foals, some of them will probably never be adopted because of extreme behaviour problems,” Holly hissed vehemently, her mood suddenly changing. Noctilucent felt a sharp stabbing pang of guilt. “I think I am going to go back to bed. Good night Holly. Wake me in the morning when you need me,” Noctilucent said, backing out the room. When he was back in his own bed, huddled under the blankets, the tears began to fall. He cried silently, not making a sound, feeling wretched for what he had done. He quietly resolved that he would never do anything so selfish ever again, never cause so much pain to those around him. His last thoughts as he drifted off to sleep was Princess Luna sobbing.