Worth
*knock-knock-knock!*
The rapping on the apartment door was crisp, loud enough to be heard by anyone inside but not so loud as to be annoying. The white-skinned young girl who was its origin waited for an answer. After a minute or two with none forthcoming, she leaned forward and tried peeking into the peephole. Seeing a mass of indefinable black and brown, she realized that such devices are not meant to allow outsiders to see in and shook her head at her own silliness.
Undaunted, the girl reached into her long, impeccably styled purple hair and ruffled around for a few seconds, coming out with two hairpins. As she prepared to pick the lock, she noticed that the apartment door also had a deadbolt. Somewhat more difficult to break than a simple tumbler lock. Given that this was not exactly the nicest part of town, there were probably security chains as well.
She decided, just for the hell of it, to try simply turning the doorknob in a vain hope that the door would be unlocked. To her surprise, it was. Cautiously, she entered.
Darkness greeted her. Not the unrelenting inky blackness of a cave, but rather an absence of unnatural light, out of place in this world of electricity. A window on the far wall was covered by a pair of red curtains, drawn but too thin to completely block out the sunlight forcing its way in as light will, casting itself in directed beams onto the walls and floor. These were outlined further by the innumerable bits of dust hanging in the air, which felt unusually stale and stuffy, as if the very concept of air circulation was foreign. Indeed, every surface she could see through the crimson dim had clearly not been dusted in several weeks, including a nearby unplugged floor fan. She pulled her hands close to her as she slowly tiptoed around.
She reached out and placed her hand against the inner wall for some semblance of stabilization… in hopes that she would not trip over any random furniture and faceplant. Even though she had come alone, she would never be able to live with herself for such a faux-pas. The wall, from what she could tell, had been painted a neutral colour – standard for any apartment – and was, she noted, completely bare of any pictures or decorations, making the already sparse living area seem that much deader. Were it not for the rumpled blanket and the two new leather jackets draped on the thrift-store couch, plus the half-eaten bowl of rice on the adjacent cable-spool coffee table, she would assume the place was empty.
The floorboards beneath the carpet slightly creaking underfoot constituted the only sound in that apartment. If the girl didn’t know better, she would swear the place had been abandoned for months if not years. However, she did know better. Once her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, she found the door on the right-side wall at the point where the tiny living area met the tinier kitchen, which logic dictates had to lead to the bedroom.
She wanted to pound on this door, but worried about what might happen if she did so. She wanted to burst into the room like an ostentatious soap opera maven, but refrained, as she felt she was already on thin ice just being there. The door’s existence taunted her as her mind worked feverishly contemplating actions and possible outcomes. Finally, she settled on restrained insistence.
*tap-tap-tap*
No answer.
She waited ten seconds. Then, pursing her lips and steeling her guts, she slowly turned the knob – also unlocked – and gently pushed open the door.
The bedroom was, if anything, even darker than the living area/kitchen. Mostly because the curtains covering its window were intended to block out a significant amount of light. What little she could see suggested the room was, to be charitable, a complete mess. Clothes of all types, including a tattered leather jacket, lay strewn about the carpeted floor, mingled with several dozen pieces of junk mail and at least twenty wadded tissues. Barely visible on the far wall stood a five-tier shelf overstuffed with books. Next to that lay an acoustic guitar, the tiny shaft of light that had managed to bypass the curtain reflecting off its polished surface.
Flush against one wall to maximize space, headboard turned away from the window, sat the bed, its rumpled blankets betraying its reality – that it was occupied. The person on the bed made no sound as the girl approached and kneeled down next to it.
“Hello, Sunset,” the girl said to the figure on the bed in her kindest tone.
Sunset Shimmer, still ensconced in covers, grunted.
“I do apologize for coming in without permission, but you left me little choice.”
Sunset shifted, reaching to turn on a nearby lamp, which bathed the tiny dingy bedroom in a weak jaundiced glow.
“Rarity,” Sunset replied flatly, not for the moment turning to face her visitor.
“You haven’t been to school for over a week. We’re all worried about you,” Rarity explained.
“And you came to see if I’m alive,” Sunset replied, not phrasing it as a question.
“Well, yes. If you wish to be that morbid.”
“Why not?” asked Sunset rhetorically.
“A-anyway, I’m glad to see you’re okay,” Rarity concluded.
At this, Sunset turned to face Rarity, who instinctively startled. Sunset’s hair, normally wavy, was a matted mess, the red and yellow streaks mingled together haphazardly to create an orange monstrosity. Her eyes appeared sunken due to the dark bags under them. Her sclerae were bloodshot, contrasting sharply with the still-brilliant aquamarine of her irises. Face utterly devoid of makeup, the minor wrinkles around her eyes and mouth made her appear much older than a typical high school student. She wore the same magenta pyjamas Rarity had seen at many a sleepover, but the long-sleeved top had noticeable sweat stains. It was at this point Rarity realized, much to her discomfort, that Sunset had not bathed in some time.
She fixed a bored glare at Rarity. “Do I look okay?”
“Actually, no, dear. Not at all,” Rarity admitted. “You look terrible. Yet,” she placed her hand on Sunset’s forehead, “you do not appear to be ill.”
“Then you don’t see,” said Sunset with a sigh.
“Meaning?” Rarity asked, annoyed.
“Rarity, do you remember this past winter when you found me dancing in the park?”
Rarity nodded, blushing slightly as she recalled Sunset grabbing her cheeks as their faces came within mere inches of each other. “It is… rather difficult to forget an exchange like that.”
“Do you remember what I told you?”
She didn’t.
Sunset sighed. “I said I wasn’t well. That day, I was on a high. My brain was working on overdrive. I felt like I could do anything. I could do anything (not necessarily anything productive, mind you). But, like a ball you toss straight up into the air, what goes up must inevitably come crashing back to earth.”
Rarity nodded slowly as she considered this.
“For the last several days, I haven’t had the drive to leave my room, or even my bed. I mean, really, what’s the point?” Sunset concluded flatly.
“Hmm,” Rarity considered this. “If nothing else, staying in bed all day is terrible for your complexion. Can’t imagine it’s good for your figure either.”
Sunset would have face-palmed had she felt like moving her arm. Instead, she buried her face in her pillow so that her next two sentences were muffled. “Is that supposed to be a joke? I can’t tell anymore.” She turned again and let out a quick groan. “Maybe it’d be better if I let myself go. Then at least I’d look how I feel. Not like I really care about keeping up appearances anymore anyway.”
Rarity, whose entire social life revolved around doing just that, pondered this for a moment. “Even so,” she said slowly, “you simply must rejoin the world. Come back to school. Everyone misses you.”
“Everyone?” Sunset shot back. “What everyone? I’m this world’s pariah and you know it. You and your friends? I seriously doubt that too.”
“Our friends,” Rarity corrected.
“Your friends,” insisted Sunset forlornly as she stared at Rarity. “I’m sure as soon as I go out of earshot, you’re all back to badmouthing me just like you used to. Old habits are hard to break; I should know.”
Rarity looked hurt. “We don’t do that. How can you possibly think so?”
Sunset turned her head away. “Because I would. And I deserve it. I’m nothing but a useless failure. That’s all I ever was, all I’ll ever be.”
“Sunset…” Rarity’s voice quivered.
“I mean, what am I? The only thing I’m good for is studying. That’s all I ever did my whole life. What did it get me? Exile. This dump of an apartment. Living a lie. The gratitude of hundreds of kids and adults I manipulated just because I could,” Sunset’s sarcasm was palpable in that sentence. “The enmity of two entire worlds,” she said as she returned to a flat affect.
“I doubt that everyone in the world hates you,” Rarity said, unsure.
“That’s only because they somehow haven’t heard of me yet,” Sunset countered, much more sure. “Once they do, they’ll turn on me. Can’t blame them; I wouldn’t wish me on anyone.”
Rarity sat on the bed, taking advantage of a triangular space left by Sunset’s being curled up in a semi-fetal position. Sunset instinctively jerked in surprise, though her face registered only mild annoyance.
“Maybe not,” said Rarity gently, placing her hand on Sunset’s covered back (causing Sunset’s eyes to widen, then narrow). “But I disagree. My life is much more fulfilled with you in it.”
At that, Sunset turned away from Rarity, sobbing silently. Rarity bit her lip and fidgeted in simultaneous concern and confusion.
Finally, Sunset spoke again. “Don’t. How? How can… why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you being nice to me?” Sunset near-spat. “Why do you care? You’ve seen I’m alive; you could just leave,” she gestured vaguely to the door, “So why are you still here?”
Rarity spoke softly, “Because you’re my friend. Friends care about friends.”
“Three years ago,” Sunset said, causing Rarity to immediately tense up. “I tried to destroy you, ruin your life. You were an obstacle in my path to popularity – maybe the ephemeral love and respect of idiot teenagers might finally give my existence meaning again (what a fucking joke) – so I needed you to suffer. And you know what? Even after watching you fall, seeing you socially broken, I felt nothing for you, other than as a minor irritant, a gnat I’d squashed. I wouldn’t have cared if you’d killed yourself.” The disgust in her voice rose to a peak, then crashed down as she struggled to finish. “I lie here in the dark, thinking about that. In my mind, I see your body, lifeless on the floor of your room, as Sweetie and your parents bawl their eyes out over you, cursing me.”
Rarity gulped as she briefly flashed back to the worst time in her life: that short but brutal rivalry with Sunset her freshman year. The humiliation, the cackling of unsympathetic classmates, the pangs of sorrow and hatred, the silence and turned backs of former friends. Framed. Mascara running down her face. Her young sister sitting with her on the bed, desperately trying to cheer her up. Failing.
Sunset continued. “I see you there, and I know it should be me instead. You never did anything wrong. Who are you? Just a sweet popular girl I felt deserved retribution, to feel as miserable as me. And don’t tell me ‘You can start over’; you can’t. I already tried that once. I had every opportunity in the universe and I threw them away. Twice! What’s the point in a worthless life like mine going on? Problem is, I’m too much of a wimp to actually go through with it. I wish I could.”
“Could?” Rarity prodded in as delicate a manner as she was able.
“End this,” Sunset said bluntly. “Life is a shitshow. It only gets worse the older you get – trust me on this – and then you die. Better, I think, to skip the suffering and check out on your own terms. Maybe if I’d realized that before coming here, both worlds would be happier. No one is better off for my existing. No one will care once I’m gone. And you know what? I’m… okay with that,” she concluded as her voice cracked.
Rarity noticed Sunset rubbing her own wrist, which appeared to have a small laceration. After a short internal deliberation on how to react, Rarity decided to allow her instinct to take over. She grabbed Sunset with both arms and pulled her out from the covers into a tight embrace. Sunset, for her part, was too shocked to fight back as her head rested on Rarity’s shoulder, their respective mouths uncomfortably close to each other’s ears.
“I’d miss you,” said Rarity, barely above a whisper, her voice wavering.
Sunset buried her head further in Rarity’s shoulder. “There’s no reason to,” she squeaked.
“That doesn’t matter.” She moved Sunset off of her so they were face to face, keeping her hands on Sunset’s upper-arms. At this angle, Rarity could see just how bloodshot Sunset’s eyes were. “Sunset…”
“What?”
“You’re not alone,” she whispered after an eternity, hugging Sunset again.
Sunset said nothing. Rarity could hear the girl’s breathing become choppier.
Rarity continued, her voice soft, diction slow. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.”
“Y-you…” Sunset croaked as Rarity reluctantly released her. A moment of silence passed as the two girls sat on the bed, facing each other.
“I’m no doctor,” Rarity reminded her, “But I can listen whenever you want to talk. That’s… the best I can do. Hopefully it’s enough.”
Sunset let out a heavy sigh, whispering three words she rarely used together: “I don’t know.”
Rarity’s mind chattered rapidly to itself, formulating sentences and then rejecting them – That’s a vapid platitude, that sounds self-serving, that might just push Sunset off the edge, so would that. What to do? Help. How? She wanted desperately to get the other four involved. However, she also knew their personalities were ill-suited to this sort of situation. Three of them, at least, were likely to take actions that, though well-intended, would probably backfire.
“Well, there is one thing I know,” Rarity said as she slowly tightened her grip on Sunset to move her out of her bed. “You certainly don’t want to develop bedsores.”
Sunset considered this and nodded. Her back had indeed been bothering her for some time, thanks to laying in her bed for most of the past 128 hours with next to no air circulation or air conditioning.
“Shall we take a little walk?” asked Rarity.
Sunset’s face bore a look of confusion. “Why?”
“There is life outside your apartment, dear,” explained Rarity, successfully getting Sunset to stand upright and don a pair of fuzzy magenta slippers. “Healing will take time – you surely know this better than I do – but it cannot start unless you are willing to take a first step. In this case, facing the world again.”
Rarity, with a pensive-looking Sunset propped up on her shoulder, slowly made her way out the front door of the apartment. She decided to not head downstairs to street level, but instead made her way to the end of the hallway, where an unlocked door concealing a creaky flight of stairs led through musty darkness up to another closed door, this one somewhat heavier, with a sign insisting only ‘Authorized Personnel’ were allowed.
Sunset’s expression was blank, which Rarity considered an improvement. Upon opening the door, stepping out onto the tarpaper roof, they were both bathed in the orange glow of the waning day. Sunset recoiled and shut her eyes.
“Are you all right?” Rarity asked.
Opening her eyes to a squint, Sunset nodded. “It’s… been a while.”
“Well, after so long immersed in darkness, I imagine the sudden light must be a bit of a shock. But it’s okay.”
“Why here?” asked Sunset.
“You like to come up here, don’t you?” Rarity answered by way of asking. “I’ve noticed, whenever the six of us would get together, that you often enjoy finding the highest place you can – a hill or a roof…”
For the first time in who-knows-how-long, Sunset’s mouth twisted into a partial grin. “I grew up in a tower. Heights are comforting to me. I never thought anyone would notice.”
“A friend ought to notice,” Rarity said, her right hand pointing resolutely at nothing in particular. “Also, I assumed the roof was a fair compromise of getting you outside but not amongst a crowd of people.” She gestured to the edge of the building facing the main road, where hundreds of cars and people on foot made their way past as part of the mass evening commute. The peoples’ inane chatter barely registered a few floors above except as an incoherent murmur.
Sunset sighed, but it was more contented this time. “I think my eyes are starting to adjust.”
“Wonderful,” Rarity said. “But you’re facing the wrong way.”
“Huh?” Sunset huh’d.
“Sunset, dear, you ought to turn around and look at this gorgeous, uh, sunset.”
That line caused Sunset Shimmer to do something she had not done in weeks – she chuckled, placing her fingers atop the bridge of her nose in a vain attempt to hide it. Nonetheless, she turned and opened one eye to the west. The sun was mostly hidden behind a line of clouds, creating crepuscular rays that bathed the landscape in an ethereal glow.
“You’re right. It is pretty,” Sunset acknowledged. After another moment gazing upon the scene in silence, she asked, “Can we go back inside now please?”
Rarity nodded. “Yes.”
As they made their way back down the stairs to Sunset’s apartment, Sunset – still leaning on Rarity but not putting her weight on her this time – lightly cleared her throat. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely audible.
They reached Sunset’s door. “Will you come to school tomorrow?” Rarity asked.
Sunset smiled wanly and shook her head. “I don’t think I’m ready just yet. Will you come to visit some time tomorrow?”
Rarity nodded. “Of course, dear. Eh—wait.” She levelled an accusatory glare at Sunset. “Please, take a bath. Also, I hope to not find you nesting in your bed in the dark again.”
“Unlikely. Unless you show up at four in the morning or something,” Sunset said truthfully.
Rarity smiled at that as she bade her friend goodbye for the day.
Walking out of the apartment building and passing its parking garage wherein sat a purple motor-scooter occupying a not-space, she pondered what she might see tomorrow. Sunset could be feeling better, or she could backslide. No way for either of them to know at this point. Best, then, to approach with care and thought, and keep following up.
One day at a time.
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It's kind of haunting to see Sunset that way, it almost made me uncomfortable when she rubbed the cuts on her wrist
And it's good that you managed to instill those types of feelings! This was a really good read
The way you write mental illness, you do it really well brah 
Keep up the awesome work
7472505 - Thank you! I try.
Interesting - and I hope you're doing OK! This seems to be coming from a somewhat dark place.
(Although if this has been a condition from before she left Equestria, one would think her teacher would have noticed...)
7472682
I do have one question, did you have any specific mental illness in mind when writing these fics?
The flipping between extreme highs and extreme lows leads me to think Bi-Polar Disorder, but I'd love to know what your actual thoughts are
7474141 - That answer is a little involved. If you're asking whether I consulted Wiki or the DSM before putting words to page, then no. I did look up information before making "Highs" public, but that was after finishing it. My thought going into the story was "manic-depression", forgetting that's just a less-medical term for bipolar disorder. On the other hand, I knew how she's broken from the get-go. So… yes in that sense?
Ultimately, I went where the writing -- and my own brain -- took me, and hoped to not offend half this site in the process. That's the big reason I sat on "Highs" for 8 months.
<b.r.b. going to look sh!t up again because forgot proper terms>
If I had to diagnose her, she probably falls under Bipolar II, the less-severe form -- she is rarely "high", and the highs aren't that extreme or dangerous (in other words, "hypomania"). She also fits the criteria for Melancholic Depression, which is closer to my original intention. It's true that hypomanic people rarely note anything may be wrong, which Sunset explicitly does, but you can chalk that up to her being well-read and more aware of her issues than a layman.
Hope that answers your question.
7473617 - Celestia seems to take a pretty "hooves-off" approach to her students, which has come back to bite her in the ass more than once. I wouldn't be shocked at all if she failed to notice or had misread Sunset's mental instability (in this AU).
so sad
Being sad sucks, but I never felt depressed. From what I hear, it's the worst feeling since it feels like your all alone, get better Sunset.
Perfect. Great story!!!!!
I drew something inspired partially by that description. It came out alright, I think.
8200466 - I think so. That's an excellent piece of art and I love it.
Hope you don't mind if I give you a shoutout for this in my next blogpost. You'll have to pardon me; I've inspired readings before, but not actual art. I'm kinda stoked.
8200603 Consider it yours to do what you want with. As a relatively new artist, a positive response is very encouraging.
It makes me think of those people in the forum keep saying ‘sorry’, being pitied, being forgiven, and backstab others again and again.
If someone has ever made me want to suicide, I will certainly not forgive him. Especially when I saw so many people being forgiven by new members of this fandom and they started to manipulate these newcomers.
I just can’t accept it.
Man, Rarity talking to Sunset is giving me flashbacks to talking to a friend of mine when they're really depressed. It's really hard work, especially because there's only so much you can do, and you feel bad for finding it exhausting and difficult when you aren't the one whose depressed.
And yeah, all the things Sunset is saying I've heard. This is really on point.
What is this parenthetical doing there? It reads like an author's note in the middle of the story and was super jarring.
Having Rarity in the story really helped things feel more impactful as compared to the previous story.
Painful, but heartwarming ending.
This is a solid template for how to properly write about suicide/self-harm in a respectful, realistic way. It's not over-played for dramatic effect, Sunset isn't sobbing her eyes out or having stupid-ass demon hallucinations (seriously why do people do those). She's tired and drained and just can't find the energy to care about herself anymore, which makes the resolution to the story all the better.
Rarity can't make Sunset care about herself, but maybe she can care about Sunset enough for the both of them. It's not a permanent solution, but it's not presented as one. It's heartwarming and uplifting in just the right way. I also like how Rarity isn't able to solve or make Sunset's problems go away at all. Instead, she does the best she can to help Sunset through this one bad night, and for now that's enough.
All the stories in this anthology are alright, but this one is really something special.
10071715
Thank you. This one was simultaneously easy and difficult to write. I spent a LOT of time thinking about how Rarity would respond because it had to be perfect in its imperfection. Anything less would have made the story fall apart.
This was a nice follow up to Night of the Faded Sun
9264338
There. It took three-and-a-half years, but I finally fixed that parenthetical and made it less suck. Happy?
10084135
Funny you say that considering I wrote this story six months before NOFS. But they do dovetail nicely.
10085842
I'm... gonna be honest. I wasn't smart enough to quote the surrounding text, so I have no idea where the parenthetical was
And why is it 2022 now? I don't wanna skip that far aheadYou can has review!
This sure was worse than I thought, even must be hard for rarity to listen to it.
She's right and rarity and the rest of your friends will be here to help you sunset.
Which is practically the title of the next story.