The knife trembled in a grip of uncertain conviction. It was a worn, stainless steel blade of barely mediocre quality, meant only for cutting poorly cooked cafeteria meals at best, but with enough force it would perform its function well enough. She had snuck it out with her during last night’s meal, but now it was to be used for a new purpose. Shaking, it was currently poised at her slender neck, ready to part the hairs of her soft coat and slice through the soft skin underneath, ready to spill warm blood, ready to end it all…
With a tearful sob, the butter-yellow pegasus filly tossed the knife away, and it clattered some distance off to the side, unseen and nowhere to be found.
She could not do it. She simply did not have the courage to finish it, to end her life, to feel the cold metal rip away at her flesh, feeling the thick blood pool around her... No. Thinking about it, letting the depths of dark mercy overwhelm her like that, embracing her being and guiding her to an unknown place far more forgiving than anything she experienced in her short life… Well, it could have been something forgiving… but she just could not bear it.
What could be the reason? Fear, perhaps? Of what? The pain? The blood? Or what comes after? It would be for but a short moment, and then, before she realized it, it would be over. It was a far kinder fate than enduring a lifetime of endless torment and suffering.
Yet she still could not go through with it.
Why?
The world could be such a cruel place, and the little pegasus filly named Fluttershy knew that all too well. She breathed heavily, her eyes shut tight as her mind screamed at her from all directions.
Weak, worthless Fluttershy…
You don’t deserve to live…
You are a disgrace…
You would be doing everypony a favor, you know…
It would be the greatest act of kindness for yourself, too…
So why won’t you die…?
Just die…
JUST DIE ALREADY!
But she could not do it. Fluttershy choked back a sob. She shook as she just stood there in the middle of the empty barracks of Cloudsdale’s summer flight camp. Cold sweat stained her brow. Her knees felt weak. She felt faint. In spite of her situation, she felt immensely relieved that nopony had been there to witness her failure, thankful that they had all been outside practicing their drills and playing with each other. She began to weep silently, letting her breaths come out in short gasps and her tears stream down her cheeks as feelings of worthlessness and despair threatened to overtake her completely. Her entire body ached. The various bruises dotting her body—courtesy of a certain group of colts who had been a bit more… outspoken than the rest of the foals—certainly contributed to the pain, but that stabbing feeling in her heart was far more excruciating than any of the blows that had been dealt on her fragile form.
Head down and shoulders hunched, she half-limped, half-crawled to her little bed far off in the corner of the barracks, and instead of retreating beneath the covers she opted to simply disappear beneath the shadows below the bed, willing to ignore the obvious unsanitariness and suffocating darkness, and prayed that nopony would ever find her. They would not want to look for her anyways. Somepony as insignificant as her should not warrant any time or attention for worry.
Hopefully.
Within her dark, tiny, grimy sanctuary, Fluttershy could hardly move, but that was all right with her. She felt only a bit safer, but it was enough. She even managed to finally stop crying. From the limited viewpoint her position offered her, she could barely see a little bit of morning sunlight streaming through a small window, motes of dust visible within it as they carelessly hovered around in imperceptibly minute currents of air. The golden ray of light beckoned her to come and join her classmates outside in the glory of the idyllic day, but Fluttershy knew better. She knew how falsely warm and inviting the world outside really was. She heard the accompaniment of the distant laughs and cheers of her “fellow” campers, knowing how they were but a façade that hid the remorseless cruelty within their core.
Fluttershy withdrew into herself even more. Curled into a tiny, quivering ball and face hidden beneath her long, pale rose mane for good measure, the filly refused to budge out from her cramped spot beneath her bed. Despite the discomfort one would normally find with staying in such an enclosed space, she was somewhat content with her present situation. Here, in the confines of her pathetic refuge, she was safe from the outside world. Here, she was by herself, and there was nopony to hurt her. There was nopony to watch her fail again and again.
Nice going, “Klutzershy!”
But the memories were already seared into her mind, ceaselessly mocking her.
The little filly whimpered. It has been only a week or so since summer flight camp started, but to Fluttershy it felt like a thousand years—a thousand years of pure, unadulterated shame, humiliation, and misery. Within the first few minutes of stepping onto the camp complex, Fluttershy was already assaulted by the teasing of her peers, her withdrawn demeanor and awkward, lanky frame almost immediately drawing attention. It did not help that she was obviously older than any of the other foals—already past the beginnings of puberty—and yet she still did not have a cutie mark.
And that was even before they found out about her flying ability.
They oughta ground you permanently!
Ha! My little brother can fly better than you!
My mom says that “fliers” like you don’t belong in Cloudsdale!
Fluttershy! Fluttershy! Fluttershy can hardly fly!
Fluttershy! Fluttershy! Fluttershy can hardly fly!
FLUTTERSHY! FLUTTERSHY! FLUTTERSHY CAN HARDLY FLY!
The pegasus filly could still hear the taunts shouting at her, getting louder and loader and cutting deeply into her psyche, although she was far away from the hubbub of a dozen enthusiastic foals—all who she knew just wanted to make fun of her any chance they could get. Even when those foals were not present, they still managed to laugh and jeer at her. She was not safe at all. Fluttershy could feel her breath quicken. She could feel frightened tears forming in her eyes again and let out a scared little squeak. As the voices grew harsher, more intense, more relentless, the terrified filly silently pleaded for them to stop, to leave her alone, but they continued to plague her and wear away at what little willpower she had left.
The pegasus could feel her sobs return in full force, and she did not bother holding them back. Why, oh why did she agree to sign up for flight camp? Her parents loved her, did they not? Why would they make her go through this hell? But deep down, Fluttershy knew that she could not blame her parents. They only wanted what they thought was best for her. As a pegasus, she had to be a decent flier at the very least; in Cloudsdale, a grounded pegasus, as appealing as the prospect may be, was unthinkable.
No, this was not her parents’ fault in the least. It was entirely hers. There was nopony to blame but herself. Why did she have to be such a weak flier? She could just barely get through even the most basic of exercises, and anything more advanced she utterly fell flat of mere adequacy. She could not even fly through a couple of cloud rings without touching the edges!
Why was she so pathetic? Stronger ponies would try to stand up for themselves. They would get up and keep going no matter what. In the back of her mind, Fluttershy knew she had to get out sometime—and while this terrified her, perhaps… perhaps she should just find her courage and simply get it over with. Eventually, she should crawl out from under the bed… walk over to the barracks door and open it… join the outside world once more… get laughed and teased at again and again… tearfully bear the shame of being one of the worst fliers the camp has seen in its long history…
Nononononono!
But Fluttershy was not a strong pony. She bit her lip and let loose a keening wail that shattered the silence of the empty, lonely barracks, no longer able to prevent herself from giving in completely to the anguish and hopelessness.
No. No, she could not do it. She could not face them. She just was not strong enough; she would never be strong enough. What should she do, then? She wished she were home, safe in her room, where nopony could make fun of her. No, not just that. She wished she could just disappear forever. But she was too scared. Her futile attempt not ten minutes earlier was proof of that. It absolutely crushed her to know that, one way or another, she would have to give in eventually. She continued to bawl, her tears neverending, and she almost coughed from the dust bunnies that were disturbed by her choked breaths and hiccups.
What to do? Oh, what to do?
…
…
…
For now, she would just keep hiding.
If she was lucky, then nopony would find her.
If she was not…
Well…
Maybe she will not throw away the knife next time.