//------------------------------//
// 376. Unrequited by Knight of Cerebus 
// Story: The Sun and the Stars: A Twilestia Prompt Collab 
// by Fuzzyfurvert 
//------------------------------//


by Knight of Cerebus


***



I watch her every day. Perfect. Happy. Surrounded by adoring throngs. She has defined my life, given me chances I never deserved, and yet, today, I hate her more than anything else in the world. Both 'hers'. For they are both equal in their torment. It is petty. It is unfair. And every time my hatred rises, I know it is pain that speaks in place of my heart. For every time I bring myself to hate her, that hate only collapses inward and festers inside.

She is a remarkably dense pony, you know? All the time I spent with her. Stargazing. Science experiments. Book talks. All to try to forge a bond with that sweet, quiet pony who hides behind that mask of smiles and friendliness. And all of it for naught. I wonder, does she even notice that I've stopped visiting? Does she wonder why? Does she ever stop to think what her selfish lo--what my own emotions are doing to me? How badly I have fallen? Others notice, of course. My guards, my petitioners, they all see me off-put. Some of them even stop to ask, with voices quivering with fear. Concern for their families overrides concern for me, as it well should and always does. And my friends, what few I--Those I trust enough to let into my sheltered life. They have seen the signs. But not my dense, brilliant star in the night. She sees a dear friend, and treats me as such. She hugs me, she wraps her hoof around mine, she will bring up her muzzle against me when she sees me. Oh, how I hated the day when I saw her do the same for Rainbow Dash. And then, of course, there is her concern. Perhaps the most cruel mockery of all.

Again I am trounced by her. Her, with her endlessly smiling, endlessly reassuring face. Her with her false concern and her need for me to fit into her little scheme like everything else has to. They're more alike than they seem, those two. It is merely that one is covert about all the things that the other shows directly. What does that say about me? Perhaps some psychologist would find it fascinating. Maybe I just wanted to reach out to the better half that controls all of my life. The better half everyone expects me to behave in accordance with, judges me against. Her I truly do hate. And perhaps that is heartbreaking, because she has more love for me than any other pony on this earth. Save one, of course. I think I may have punched a mirror loud enough to worry the guards with that thought, but it is nothing to me. I will explain that I slipped, and they will not care. No one ever does, after all.

I thought maybe Twilight Sparkle understood. We aren't so different, us two. Awkward. Passionate. Off-putting. Helpful. Intellectual. I remember my flailing attempts to make friends. I remember her smiles, how she approached me when nobody else would. I remember how she treated me with compassion even when I tried to turn her away, how she saved my dignity even when I was at my most pathetic. How she forgave me for all the harm and horror my darkness had bestowed upon her. But I was too late. Her heart belonged to another. Why try for the half-rate of the original? The little sister to the world's greatest pony. Maybe that was all part of her grand plan. It was obvious to anybody who she really loved. Maybe she was just helping me to get to her. Maybe she, like so many before her, saw the face of my better in the place of my own. Maybe I was, and am, just a stepping stool. If only she knew how badly that plan had backfired. I want to see her cry, want her to snivel and beg for forgiveness. I want her to feel hated and spited, and it is out of some twisted need for her companionship. I don't want to be alone. I want her to be here, suffering with me, even if it is because of me.

I hear her cursed laughter on the street below. I see her walking with some of her friends. She has millions, I am sure. They smile, they chat back, and her laugh returns to my ears. I open the doors to my balcony, stepping out to watch. It is better, I have found, to be hated than nonexistent. I have tried so many times to be something more than the shadow to my sister, the magnificent Princess Celestia, Queen of Light. Again and again, I am nothing but. But I have found one escape. I am nothing to anyone, not truly. Not unless I play the villain.

But I see now that Equestria is not my enemy. It is her. Only her. And my pain will be her pain. She will know unrequited love, for I withdraw mine own. I know what I must do. I spread my wings and set my course. For Celestia The Flawless alone, I will be more Nightmare than I ever have been.