So Many Words Never Said

by Snowmanmelting

Extra 1 - So Many Hearts Overthrown

Twilight had the feeling that leaving home was one of the best decisions she could have made in years. Or maybe in her whole life, it wasn't too long after all.

Now that she thought about it, it could also be the added fact of starting the year in a different school. She always hated Crystal Prep. It was one of those institutions were most students who attended there believed themselves to be superior to others just because they wore a uniform and paid a monthly fee not even too expensive.

It supposedly had something to do with reputation, prestige, and the hypothetical fact that people who had done great things studied there. Along with other excuses to justify the belief of being of high birth, that Twilight cared for about as much as knowing the composition of the bricks with which the building was built (nothing).

The decision to change schools had been made by her parents, who knows why. It surely had to do with cutting down costs, or the pair of school citations they had the previous year, or something like that. The reason wasn't important, but the fact that sometimes they had good ideas. Very few times, that is why Twilight gave them credit when necessary.

Be that as it may, the most important thing of all was that she was out of both places.

The day before when the social worker asked her about a family member or trusted adult with whom she could to stay with, the first (or third) person that came to mind was Celestia. Her parents had a good relationship with her for many years, those where they went out for dinner frequently and if she remembered right, both families had spent one or two holidays together. Until it suddenly ended for a few more years without further explanation. Not that it was her business to know why.

Fortunately on the last period, when Twilight appeared at the school where Celestia was the head of the management team, the relationship seemed to recover by a small percentage. She had Celestia's phone number and on some occasions, the school principal had asked Twilight how she was doing, at brief conversations inside the school.

Even a couple of times, Twilight had come here to have dinner with her brother and Cadance. It was always fun because everyone seemed to be in an environment of full confidence. Where conversations covered all kinds of topics, where one could act more relaxed. It was fun to be able to forget for a second all of the bad things in life, to chat without (so many) measured behaviors and to distract for a while, even when being surrounded by adult people.

Besides, there always was an elaborate cake or ice cream dessert at which Twilight often found herself looking for a thousand excuses as to why it was a good idea to ingest it, no matter how much guilt it might give her later.

Twilight wasn't sure how many days she would stay exactly, having received so much information and instructions about what to do or what was going to happen in a single day. When she woke up this very next morning she found her head totally blank, without being able to recall half of the words.

In fact, she barely remembered the name of her social assistant just because she had come down to greet her a while ago; when she arrived to talk with Celestia about some things and to ask her how she was doing. Contrary to movies and general beliefs (and therefore, her own), the woman seemed quite competent as far as her work was concerned. Explaining with patience what things would be like from now, keeping a prudent distance and being quite friendly. They could add that to the television show where myths are disproved. It would be quite useful.

Twilight didn't have the slightest idea how many days her stay in Celestia's house would last. What she had certainty on, was that it took fifteen steps from the beginning of the stairs to reach the door of the room where she was in, the last one at the end of the hall.

Of course she had measured and counted them the night before, and she also did the same with calculating the distance between all the bedrooms. She had to, she had done it in all her previous houses and by logic, this one wouldn't fall into any kind of exception to the rule. In the same sense, Twilight was caught in the need to check for a characteristic noise at the door of the room, such as the creak of a hinge, or a metallic noise inside the lock, or a harder-than-normal knob. Fortunately, the latter turned out to be one of those that you have to turn, with a button in the middle to lock the door from inside. So if someone tried to enter by any possible method, she would hear them.

Someone without context would surely classify it as a "bad habit". Twilight preferred to call it for what it was: security measures to know when her system should be on alert. Not that it was too necessary to have the guard up, her parents weren't supposed to have Celestia's address, but better to be safe than have another visit to the hospital.

Be that as it may, her calculations proved correct, when after fifteen steps the shadow of a figure could be seen in front of her door. As always, Twilight had lost concentration in the book in her hands to direct it towards the footsteps, its pace and direction. The floor in the hall was placed with a different technique from that of her (old?) house, so the sound could be heard a little more hollow and lighter, to her fortune.

The figure took a couple of minutes to slowly knock on the door. Twilight had a vague idea of who it might be, judging by the knocking and certain tones of voice on the main floor that had manifested a while ago.

"Twily? I'm Shining, can I come in?"

As supposed, it was her brother on the other side of the door. It took her no more than two seconds to give him an affirmative answer while she was about to sit cross-legged and use the headboard of the bed as a backrest. Twilight rearranged the pillow too so that her back wouldn't suffer so much against the wood. Otherwise, she would end up humping it too much and the current contractures were more than enough.

Shining greeted her with a smile that couldn't completely disguise his search for an anomaly, for something different that might be present in Twilight's structure but completely invisible to the untrained eye. Something that needed higher, more secret, more important knowledge.

"Good... Uh, afternoon? I don't even know what time it is." She greeted back, with the same (pretended, almost) casualty as always. This time didn't have to be an exception, however unmotivating it might be the reason for his visit. Twilight didn't want to encourage any kind of conversation other than banal or light.

"It's almost four thirty, Sleeping Ugly.” She frowned when Shining disheveled her bangs, just to annoy her. "What happened to the watch you had the other time?"

Twilight responded to the gesture by squinting. Whoever touched her hair deserved at least an irritated look as an answer. Before, it would have annoyed her more the fact that she had to comb the hairstyle she was using at that moment again perfectly, which took more work than it seemed. However, now that she had become accustomed to keeping the hair loose, it was enough to brush it a little with her fingers so that it could return to its natural form. Too many years with tied hair thanks to school rules or personal excuses led to the point where a simple ponytail hurt the scalp. Not to mention that some time ago her mother obliged her to retouch it at the hair salon and, without six inches of split ends it looked more beautiful and shiny. Though it was still way too thin and therefore detestable.

"The watch band broke." The watch was back in the house, probably in the small trash can of her (old?) room if her mother had not yet thought of emptying its contents. She ruined it completely, during one of her usual showers at the wee hours of the morning when she forgot to take it off for having her head focused on the right priorities. Still, Twilight used it to check the time as much as she watched the calendar on the wall of her old bedroom (from time to time), so it wasn't too important of an object. But if Twilight could avoid a lecture from her brother about her bad habits, so be it. "I still couldn't change it. Anyways, I forgot it at home, so..."

Twilight chose to shrug rather than finish the sentence. As often, the tongue betrayed the rhythm of thought, cornering her against the figurative corner with the name of 'straight to the point'. Maybe her unconscious wanted to end this thing once and for all, rather than going around in circles. Or maybe she was just too exhausted in every possible way to be able to think coherently enough.

Shining seemed to understand it as a supposed invitation to stop wasting time on unnecessary introductions. He decided not to comment on the damned watch with anything else than a nod, if a little surprised. He immediately fell into that neutral expression of deep thinking of one who is actually locked in an internal debate. Probably about how to face certain things.

Twilight hated that Shining sometimes took so long looking for the best possible words to use. But at the same time, she had to admit that it caused her some tenderness, given that he took the trouble to make her feel as comfortable as possible. The same happened with spaces; always an arm's length away. Or as now, sitting on the far end of the bed while she was at the beginning, twisting the edge of the sheets nervously.

She needed one of those diet chewing gums with more of a toothpaste flavor than eucalyptus with urgency, or perhaps the peppermints were a better option. Twilight surely had some in her backpack where she decided to keep her most important belongings, on the desk chair, but she didn't want to get up to look for them. She also didn't want a possible lecture on why she shouldn’t indulge in that edible garbage. A thing that couldn't be denied in case she was accused of. Since yes, those things had too many additives. At least they gave good breath, which was quite important at the time of introducing oneself to--

A sigh. One that she didn't know exactly how to take.

“...I guess you must know why I'm here, right?”

Twilight looked from one corner of the room to the other, where her brother took up the field of vision. It wasn't too big, but it was small and comfortable. Bright too.

"I assume that my social worker called you to explain why I decided to leave home." The words came out quicker than she meant. Though she tried to keep her upright posture as if she had made a good decision (if the other Twilight looked like that with so little effort, it was likely that she would too, right?).

She had to stand firm, convinced beyond the opinion Shining could possibly have. Twilight wasn't going back anywhere.

She wanted to be able to choose which sciences to study. Wanted to be banal and stupid for as long as possible without worrying about the hour limits or what her tongue would let off. Wanted the bile to stop going up the esophagus to her throat. Wanted the damned rhythm of her heartbeat to stay where it belonged and stop going up to her ears. Wanted to remove the impurities rooted in the skin. Wanted the thorns to stop hurting her again and again- Wanted to stop paying for things that she never asked for and could never afford. Wanted to stop having to scratch the areas surrounding the bruises under the burning water to relieve herself in the pain caused by those small, open, and bleeding wounds. Wanted to sleep without the perceptions and alarms blooming in the skin.

She wanted to rest. She wanted to rebuild herself.

One day away from home proved to be enough to understand that there, she wouldn't achieve anything different. Her opinion didn't matter to her parents, nor did it matter how she felt, or what the hell was going through her mind, or if she isolated herself in her room all day. Twilight wasn't sure if they loved her as much as they claimed, if she had been forced into that damn routine she hated with every fiber of her being.

She had, then, the right to want something different, right?

Another sigh, like someone on the sly. Or maybe Twilight knew her brother too well and that allowed her to have a more accurate idea of what he might be thinking.

"Twily, I want you to be honest with what I'm going to ask, okay?" She had never seen Shining so serious and nervous at the same time. Not even at his wedding where he was nothing more than a ball of nerves and anxiety, which translated to adjusting his suit over again and over again in front of the mirror. Now Shining seemed to be forcing himself to say words that he didn't really want to, but that responsibility forced him to. "Was it really... was it really dad who... who took advantage of you?"

Sparkle felt her heart stop for a second. Or maybe it was her breathing. Or her whole system. Or everything altogether. She wasn't sure anymore of anything but that the world stopped for a moment. Just like when the steps turned out to be seven. It was a lucky number in many cultures. In her life, it was synonymous with hell.

Take advantage of...?

…What?

No, no, it was an implicit agreement where--

Where she always lost, for some reason.

Be useful once and think, Twilight. What's the definition of that word?

It's a transitive verb, ok. Sparkle had no idea what that meant and it wasn't relevant to the case either, but the visual memory of when she read the dictionary as a little girl didn't fail. To get the most benefit out of a thing or a situation, right? The greatest personal benefit.

Twilight Sparkle (as a whole) always ended up losing, even if they told her otherwise. She always ended up without sleep. Or receiving a lecture on what she was doing wrong. Or if she failed a subject at school then the scolding went towards her person. Or losing the peak of good manners that was punctuality. Or with some superficial damage on the cutaneous tissue. Or simply ended up tired, destroyed, sick of always repeating the same actions.

And everything for what? To have a roof over her head and a bed to sleep on? To live with a deplorable state of mind for never fulfilling damned expectations?

The ghost of Social Services wasn't as terrifying as always portrayed. "You had to fear the living, not the dead" Velvet used to say.

"You're not giving me an answer, Twily."

Twilight blinked, coming out of the sudden self-absorption. She was twisting the edge of the bed sheets so tightly between her hands that even her arms were trembling.

"...I guess it's one way of describing it..." Twilight murmured slowly. Like she had been put into a conversation suddenly and with a minimal context.

"There is no other way, Twi," Shining spoke under his breath, and Twilight realized that she wasn't the only one with trembling hands and fogged eyes. Her brother had his eyes focused on some imaginary point, like someone who had a certain kind of suspicion. And at the same time, he looked so overwhelmed that he couldn't have a concrete reaction, as if he had too many emotions spinning in his head.

The only memory she had of ever seeing him like that, was when their maternal grandfather died. Twilight was about five years old at the time. If her memory didn't fail, she was the only one in her class who could read and even write several words, and the smock was as green and uncomfortable as the color of the room, the last one before elementary school.

Twilight remembered herself more confused than sad, after being told her grandfather had gone up there, to a place beyond the clouds where everyone would inevitably end up one day. She remembered looking at the fishes swimming in the small lake of the funeral home, her father telling her which was which and what were the differences between them. A distracting attempt from the anguish that vigils meant. Or maybe it was due to the fact that she was asking too many questions.

She remembered dragging Shining to that same small lake, to tell him what she had learned five minutes ago in an effort to cheer him up. Twilight knew that he and his grandfather were pretty close, they always went fishing together, while she stayed with her grandmother playing with the clams on the riverbank.

And in spite of the fact that one or two foreign tears fell, which were quickly wiped off because a good man didn't shed tears in front of anyone but himself (and if he did it in front of his sister, she kept the secret). Even though his eyes were fogged and red, he still took it upon himself to listen to her and smile at her when she talked about the fishes. Or to laugh when she confused the names. Or to dishevel her hair, only to annoy her.

Shining could be devastated, and yet he would take the time to look for the best words, the trouble of giving Twilight her own space so that she felt as comfortable as possible. He would still smile at her, just to not make her feel bad.

However now the only thing that it caused was the opposite. He wouldn't be like this if she had not opened her mouth. If she had not gone to the hospital. If she had not run away from home. If she had not visited the centers. If she had not investigated. If she had not taken the damn paper.

But Twilight had the right to want something different. Though she couldn't help feeling like the source of all evil, like Pandora the imbecile who opened the box only because of her insatiable and morbid curiosity. She would have to live with the guilt, she supposed.

Suddenly, Twilight felt fire.

And it felt strange. The flames didn't seem to have an origin in her insides, nor in her useless and destroyed soul, nor did it melt the organs or turn the bones into fiery embers. The fire was external, from the air around her. It climbed from the base of the spine to the back of her neck, to her hair way-too-thin and way-too-soft but still way too detestable. It scorched her skin, wrapped her torso with such heat that it made her hair stand on end from the chills.

"I'm sorry, Twily. I'm so sorry..."

Shining was hugging her, with all the firmness and care with which one holds a small infant, with whom one carries a box with a 'fragile' sign printed on top. With the desperation and the fear that at any minimally rough or measured movement she would break.

Sunset had done something similar the previous day when she saw her at the door of her building, almost at six in the morning. And, though Twilight at that moment was with a thick layer of insensitivity on top, it was enough (before, and now, in fact) to realize that she hated it. Or that at the very least it gave her certain sense of rejection.

What do you do when you break a glass? Whether glass or crystal, the only action to be done is to collect the pieces to throw them away. The only care you have is not to hurt your own fingers, the object is already broken and therefore it does not matter if it breaks even more in the process. It is useless.

"I should have listened when you asked me if you could come and live with me and Cady."

Hearing that somehow made Sparkle react, or maybe it was Twilight, she didn't know if it was even relevant. The point was that she was still squeezing the sheets between her hands, stuck to the ribs.

Sparkle didn't return hugs, Twilight might consider it if the moon turned blue. Would the other Twilight hug people? She had never seen her do it, either.

However, that was on the second (or fifth) category of her mental list of priorities. Time to go back to the ones in first place.

She had to search the deep corners of her memory until she found the moment when she said such thing.

"Shiny, that was years ago." Twilight was twelve, judging by the fact that her first year of high school, the house was a place of constant tension. Not only because of her brother and the alleged wrong decisions he had made about his life, those were common fights since Twilight was at least eight. But because she had also decided to put in her two cents with frightening grades.

It could be said that it was strange for the fact that Twilight had always been, according to her teachers, a 'star student'. Hoarding all existing mentions in terms of best GPA referred to and ending with burnt ears from the typical subsequent wordiness about her merits in the school system. Sometimes, yes, it helped to inflate the ego a bit. But usually she didn't like to draw so much attention. Twilight had always been very curious and liked to learn about everything that crossed her sight.

However, high school was a bit more different. For some it was more demanding, for others it meant a new world where the real social events occurred. For Twilight it was a place to study according to the orientation her parents chose for her. At that time she couldn't say it bothered her, given that the careers she had as an option were interesting. A part of her still considered them.

But like everything, there are certain things, certain opinions, certain feelings, that change over time. She wasn't sure exactly if that happened before or after as some memories were better buried. Only that within that period, her life became different.

Very different, in fact.

And suddenly it was more fun to recover lost sleep hours in class without caring in the least if she failed a subject before having to, well, approve it with a radiant ten. Sometimes she would also read a book, and/or pay attention to the subjects that awakened her interest, or where she had already rested enough to concentrate, which represented a very low percentage in the totality.

Her parents didn't take long in announcing their discontent, she soon continued without paying attention to them to seclude herself in her room the whole summer to study. And so the story repeated itself until the middle of the following year. After winter break, they decided that maybe attending the land of pompous people that was Crystal Prep would be a good idea. To raise her grades to radiant tens again? Yes. Everything else? Even more detestable.

"Plus, you and I know that it was quite impossible. And nothing would have changed." Twilight found herself muttering that last sentence, in an attempt to keep her brother from listening.

In the midst of the tensions, the changes, the lectures, the school citations, the constant fights, Twilight had asked her brother if there would be any chance of moving in with him. The answer, by logic, was negative. It had to do with how much everything would complicate, rather than lack of will.

What she could clearly remember was the promise Shining had made at that moment, of helping her leave as quickly as possible when she reached the age of majority or was close enough to it. That had been etched in her head as a permanent plan for the future.

"What do you mean, it wouldn't have changed anything?" Twilight apparently had not talked as muffled as she thought, or maybe Shining had better hearing than her sister gave him the credit.

"I mean what I mean, Shining." Again, she looked at the other corner of the room, at the backpack on the desk chair. She needed one of those diet chewing gums with more of a toothpaste flavor than eucalyptus with urgency, or maybe some peppermints were a better option. In any case, Twilight didn't want to get up to look for either of them. She didn't want a lecture on why that edible garbage was bad because of the number of additives it possessed.

Actually, it may not be a bad idea, if it redirected the conversation...

"Twily, how... how long has this happened?" Her brother seemed more uncomfortable than she could ever be. And the blame kept burning her body, scorching her skin, turning the bones into glowing embers from the inside out, from the outside to the inside.

How do you answer a question that you don't know? Because really, Twilight didn't have the slightest idea.

"Does it even matter?"

Or maybe, in some dark, unknown corner of her mind was the answer. Somewhere, hidden, it sure would be the first sin with a luxury of details intoxicated with cynicism. Because there are certain things, certain opinions, certain feelings that can never be buried or forgotten, even if blocked and pretended to be extinct.

"It’s my fault anyway." Twilight heard her own voice break and had to blink a couple of times to clarify the sight of the distorted shapes at the sudden hydration that the lacrimal glands exerted on her corneas. It was strange, somehow she was subjected to the impertinent introspections and the hypersensitivity of the skin while trying to get back in tune with what was going on around her. "God, we shouldn't be having this conversation."

However, Twilight really, really didn't want to know anything. If there was something that she always wanted to remain ignorant about, it was that. But no. There went Twilight, there went Pandora to open the box with her insatiable and morbid curiosity to unleash all the evils on the world, on her family, on her brother, on all those around her, on herself.

"Twi, it's not your fault." Shining's voice sounded soft and careful, steady, close to her ear. She felt the fire subside a little, or perhaps it had already melted with her own body temperature and it now felt more welcoming than burning. In any case, she snuggled closer to the form that wrapped her.

"Yes, it is, Shiny." That didn't mean she would stop feeling guilty. If the current torrent of tears gave any kind of clue.

"No, it's not."

Twilight frowned, annoyed.

"It is." Could they not talk like the adults they were?

"No, Twilight." Before she could deliver some kind of discontentment onomatopoeia and oppose him in a childish way no matter how hypocritical, she felt her brother take her firmly by the shoulders. At this point, Twilight felt the body as firm as jelly and not even the pain in the back could keep her straight. With enough distance to be face to face, to feel a kind of cold that she didn't remember was there before. "You don't have to take charge of things that aren't your responsibility."

"But it feels like it... You're here because of me, aren't you?" Twilight couldn't look at Shining in the face for more than three seconds, as much as she wanted to. So she settled down to look for a box of tissues around the room. It wasn't too big, but it was small and comfortable; it was bright too.

"I'm here because I care what happens to you, Twily. Whether it's good, bad, or doesn't even make sense to you." She didn't know if she was being too obvious, or Shining knew her enough to know what she needed. But he started searching in his pockets until he found a pair of tissues. Probably both. She knew that her brother had a handkerchief, too, and Twilight hated handkerchiefs. "I'm always here for whatever you need me for."

Shining Armor was capable of speaking to her with such great conviction that even sometimes, as children, he had (almost, almost) convinced her of absurd things like an object was blue when it actually looked yellow. But those were typical sibling things. Twilight had never been a saint, either, as far as annoying him was concerned. And now, except for a few exceptions where they once again pretended to be kids, Shining only did so when he spoke seriously when his words were as genuine as his good intentions.

Twilight couldn't look at his face for more than three seconds in a row, so she glanced at him while blowing her nose. Just to verify the authenticity of his words. Only to calm those little bubbles of doubt about his intentions, that exploded when she saw his exhausted appearance from working extra shifts to be able to dedicate himself to his future daughter.

It was impossible to not feel the blame continuing to scorch her skin, to turn the bones into glowing embers from the inside out, from the outside to the inside. Shining was here, now, trying to cheer her up even though he knew that Twilight was too stubborn sometimes. Bothering to make her feel comfortable, without hesitating for a moment of her story. He always believed more in her words than in that of their parents. Twilight never understood the exact reason, but supposed it had to do with the record of tensions and arguments her brother had with them.

Sparkle didn't return hugs, Twilight might consider it when the moon turned blue. She still decided to fight against any chill, discomfort, or fire, comes the case, that any contact with another living being could make and embrace Shining with all the strength that her sore muscles allowed. The lacrimal glands hydrated her corneas way too much again. Yet a strange sensation, more welcoming and a million times more comforting than the blame or the outer burning fire accumulated in her chest.

"You are the best brother I could ever ask for. You know that, right?"

Maybe today the moon would end with a burst of colors.

Author's Note:

You can click here for a brief explanation of what is this and my future plans for this story.

Comments

[TacoTues4Eva]

Another excellently written part to this story that I enjoyed very much. I'm very happy to see that Shiny is going to be supportive of Twilight because she is really going to need it. I actually think Celestia is a very good choice of an adult she can trust and stay with. All in all, another great job and I can't wait to see more of it.

[Snowmanmelting]

9011773
I'm glad you enjoyed this one too!
I couldn't have Shining turn her back on her, I mean he is... he is Shining. I don't think he would ever do so. And nice Celestia is always good Celestia, haha.
Next one will be around next Wednesday or so, I have to edit it quiiteee a bit but I'll do my best.