• Published 17th Nov 2018
  • 11,860 Views, 350 Comments

Last Light - Scampy

Sunset Shimmer has fallen into a self-destructive spiral since her friends left her, and she attempts to end her life. While unconscious, she is confronted by Princess Luna. They have much to discuss, whether Sunset likes it or not.

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I - Ritual

Sunset wasn’t sure what time it was when she awoke. Surely sometime in the afternoon, given the length of the sunbeams coming through the window. It was a change of pace to be up before dusk, though it made little difference to her.

She didn’t roll out of bed. There was no reason to. There wasn’t much reason to stay in bed either, though such a logic loop was tiring for Sunset to think about, which was reason enough to remain on the mattress.

Her eyes caught the rhythmic flicker of a blue LED. Her phone was on the floor beside her, and between missing school and her reason for missing school, there were doubtless many messages to sort through. Sunset reached for her phone and turned it over so that she could no longer see the notification light.

Despite her best efforts, she was beginning to wake up. She turned over and buried her face in the mattress, only to be greeted by the musty smell one would expect from a used mattress found on a sidewalk. With a groan and a stretch, Sunset flipped herself over.

The floor of her tiny bedroom was as unkempt as Sunset herself, being covered in dirty laundry and an unpleasant smell. The events leading up to the holidays had given her little incentive to leave her room, and while she had expected the Anon-a-miss situation to fizzle out over the break, the blinking light on her phone was proof otherwise. Now school was back in session, yet Sunset still confined herself within her apartment.

As Sunset’s gaze drifted over the countless cracks in her ceiling, she acknowledged that there was no way she’d be able to fall back asleep. Resigned to consciousness, she sat up and stretched, causing the loose sleeves of the hoodie she’d worn to bed to slide down her arms. Rows upon rows of hair-thin scars were revealed, criss-crossing over themselves all the way down to her wrist. Sunset scowled and pulled her sleeves back out to cover them again.

Hunger flared inside her, though it was not what drove her to get out of bed. Sunset was no stranger to the gnawing feeling of an empty stomach. A primal urge she couldn’t ignore, however, was the one building in her bladder. She shuffled across the bedroom, paying no mind to the dresses and shirts she was stepping on. In the bathroom, she plopped down on the toilet and stared at the wall with half-lidded eyes.

After the deed was done, Sunset washed her hands in the trickling stream of her bathroom sink, drying them with a couple of fast food napkins taken from the pile beside her. As she did, she caught a glance of the girl in the mirror.

Hollow eyes stared into themselves. Sunset’s normally wavy red and yellow hair was a tangled mess, its colors overlapping into a drab mix of orange and brown. Her face was marred by bagged eyes, and Sunset swore that she could see the trails left by tears from the days when she could still cry.

You look like shit.

Unable to meet her own gaze any longer, Sunset lowered her head. The glint of metal caught her eye, and she pushed aside the pile of napkins to reveal a single rectangular razor blade.

Now began the only thing she had to look forward to. Sunset took the razor and returned to her mattress. She removed her hoodie, shivering as her bare skin was exposed to the coldness of her unheated bedroom. Countless cuts in various stages of healing lined her body. The densest clusters were between her wrists and elbows, however scabs and scars covered her thighs, stomach, calves and shoulders. Some had even drifted up her chest and closer to her neck.

She felt nothing, physically or otherwise, as she lightly dragged the razor over her upper thigh. Sunset focused intently on the line she’d drawn across her skin. As the cold air touched the hot blood bubbling up, the line turned a brighter and brighter shade of red. Eventually the color settled and the blood stopped.

Sunset slid the razor across her leg again, this time with more force. Pain reached her as she watched the blood pulse from her thigh. Her expression hardened at the sight and sensation, and words swirled around in her head.




Seething, Sunset slashed into herself once again. A thick tide of blood surged forth alongside memories of friends she no longer had.

“I can’t believe I trusted you! After everything you’d done the past few years, I was stupid enough to think you could change.”

“How could you, Sunny? How could you just throw our friendship away like this?”

“Would you just stop lying about it? Everyone knows it's you running the page.”

“Don't bother apologizing. We’re not gonna fall for your ‘redemption’ act again.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Gah—!” Sunset’s breath escaped her as she sliced herself again. Something close to crying felt like it was welling up inside her. Sunset’s chest heaved as her breathing became more erratic. She shut her eyes, trying to let herself be overcome by that ghost of a sensation, but the tears never came.

The ritual repeated until Sunset’s thigh was coated with blood, half dripping and half congealed. She dropped the razor beside her phone and rested her head against the wall. Her vision was blurred, though not from tears, as she watched drops of blood steadily flow down her leg and onto the mattress.

Not like more stains will make it any worse.

Even while face-down, her phone had continued to blink. Sunset glanced down at it, took a deep breath, and braved a look at her messages.

They were what she expected. Threats, accusations, curses and hatred. And yet, Sunset couldn’t look away. She sat there, soaking her bed in her own blood, as she scrolled through each and every message. She wasn’t sure why. She had long since given up expecting to see any kind of apology or understanding of her innocence. Still, she kept reading.

By the time Sunset had viewed the last message, she had received several more, each as angry as the others. She put down her phone and picked up her razor.

Long after night had fallen, Sunset left her apartment and began the trek to the local fast food joint. The aftermath of her session required the remainder of her napkins to clean up. The thought of getting something to eat sounded good too, although Sunset’s empty wallet resigned her to a handful of complimentary crackers and ketchup packets. The thought was nice though.

Sunset walked with a subtle but steady limp, yet another consequence of her self-inflicted wounds. Perhaps she’d cut too deeply this time. It certainly wouldn’t be a first.

The streetlights grew brighter and more numerous as the sidewalk led Sunset out of the run-down industrial part of the city. Her apartment was located in a long-since condemned building on the far side of town. As far as Sunset was concerned, anything with a roof was shelter enough, and it wasn’t like anyone else was using it. She had heard the term ‘squatter’s rights’ before, though she wasn’t sure of the details. Hopefully it wouldn’t come up any time soon.

A chilly breeze blew from behind her, biting through her tattered hoodie. Shivering, Sunset looked up at the night sky. The impossibly small flickers of stars stretched out in every direction. She amused herself by focusing on the stars that appeared brighter while in her peripheral vision, only to seemingly vanish once she looked at them directly.

Was that what she looked like to everyone else? The echoes of a brilliant sun, millions of miles from home, with no warmth left? If Sunset were a star, she thought, she must not have burned very brightly. For all her efforts to keep her friendships alive, each one had dimmed and fizzled out, just as the photons from stars vanished upon reaching her.

“Pffffft.” Sunset made a noise. Such thoughts were unbearably pretentious, even for her. Sunset’s gaze dropped back to the street just as her destination came into view. As she made her way closer, she was greeted by the familiar grating sound of teenagers laughing and socializing. Sunset pulled up her hood, tucked in her long hair and limped inside, making an effort to avoid eye contact with anyone.

The restaurant was far more crowded than Sunset would have liked, and most of the people there were her peers from school. Groups of friends filled nearly every booth and table, chatting about sports games and schoolwork. A line stretched from the counter to the door, and nearly every person waiting was focused on their phones or each other. Sunset counted herself lucky—the more people were looking elsewhere, the less likely they were to notice her.

The table with the napkin dispensers and crackers was on the other side of the building. Keeping her head down, Sunset stumbled and weaved through the tightly packed mess of chairs and bodies. Her legs were starting to burn even more as the fresh cuts chafed against the rough insides of her jeans. The air was suffocating, and Sunset flinched at every accidental bump into anyone or anything.

Sunset made it to the table and filled the front pocket of her hoodie with napkins, crackers and ketchup. As she pushed through the crowd on her way out, her breathing grew more ragged and her steps more careless. Pain mounted in her thighs, and Sunset caught a glimpse of dark red lines seeping through the fabric of her pants. Trembling, she shut her eyes and pressed forward.

Sunset staggered, lost her footing, and felt herself crash into someone.

“What the hay, man?” came an all too familiar raspy voice. Sunset, struggling to push herself up from the floor, found herself face to face with Rainbow Dash.

“What’s the big—Sunset?” Rainbow said. Sunset recoiled at the sound of her own name, feeling the weight of the mounting glares from every corner of the room.

“What’s she doing here?”

“Sunset Shimmer?”

“Have you seen what she posted over the break?”

Sunset couldn’t breathe. Everything she’d taken from the table had fallen from her pocket, littering the floor around her and Rainbow Dash. Sunset’s hands were shaking as she tried again to stand.

“The heck are you doing here?” her former friend said, scowling.

Sunset had no answer. Her eyes darted around, trying to find the exit, only to be caught in the stares of her classmates in every direction.

“Are you stealing napkins? Seriously? What, stealing all our secrets wasn’t enough?”

“I-I...” Sunset couldn’t form words. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t stand. Her legs were on fire and her hands were stained red from where they had touched the bloodied part of her jeans.

“That’s enough, Rainbow,” a loftier voice said. “She’s not worth your time.”

Sunset braved a look upward and saw Rarity with her back turned.

“Meh. You’re right,” Rainbow Dash shrugged. She glared down at Sunset. “Beat it, Anon-a-miss.”

Several mocking voices called out from all around Sunset.


“Nobody wants you here anyway!”

Sunset held onto a chair as she fought to right herself. Just as she successfully pulled herself off the floor, Rainbow Dash slammed down her fist on a table.

“I said beat it, Shimmer!”

Sunset hobbled out of the restaurant, her pockets and stomach empty. Jeers and shouts followed her to the door. As she stumbled out into the frigid winter night and walked away, there were no tears in her eyes—only grim resignation.