• Published 25th Jun 2019
  • 286 Views, 5 Comments

Behind The Name - Zippi



No pony, even the ones who seem to be living a dream, have it all

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Wake Me Up in A Sky Full Of Stars

It had been over two years since she announced her retirement from touring. A lot had transpired in the last two years, new music, more time in the studio, time to herself, and more. It was all what she needed in order to get back on track. Or so it should seem.

Her peers had talked to her about her decision, saying it was the right choice to get her life back in order. Maybe it had been, She was feeling a lot better as of late and she felt genuine happiness and excitement from music, the kind of which she hadn't felt since the very beginning. But the scars had never fully healed over. She still struggled with the repercussions of her past lifestyle and had come to realize that many of those scars would never go away. She never felt right. Big steps had been made in the right direction, and she felt better than she had before her retirement, but better than physical pain, emotional instability, psychological abuse, heavy stress and anxiety quelled by heavy drinking and prescriptions that didn't help doesn't mean good.

She thought about all this while lying in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, she was in an unfamiliar environment that she slowly had been getting accustomed to over the past week while on vacation. She'd been having fun, a lot of the stresses that were normally weighing her down were lowered, she found she wasn't worrying as much and that she was overall just happier. This trip was a good idea it seemed.

Will life ever feel normal?

She'd come a long way from even only two or three years ago, her thoughts of inferiority weren't as all consuming, she could at least function with them.

But they were destructive.

On the outside she felt good at least, on the inside she still struggled with her demons, even though she tried her best to work against them. Working out further solutions to her issues and seeking help from many sources. Her friends thought it was helping and Vinyl continued to hope and wish it would. Some things were too big to disappear forever though.

She wanted to make sense of things, she could have it all, she could feel happy, she could still feel passionate for something, but lack understanding of why we do it, whats the purpose? She'd made songs about living a life you will remember, she'd made music that helped ponies who struggled with the same things she did, but she could never take her own advice it seemed. She was seeking for answers that didn't exist, for questions no one could understand, she did it alone.

She quickly became lost in her head and she could feel her dormant as of late anxiety coming back.

After some time of laying awake and diving deep into her struggles, past and present, she slid off the bed and made her way down the hall of her suite. She couldn't sleep, she was restless. She felt odd, something she couldn't identify but had felt before. The air felt thick and she was sweating, her breathing felt off.

I don't feel as if I have a purpose.

She didn't want to be doing this now.

Calm down, what am I doing?

She began breathing in and out slowly and taking in her surroundings as to not lose touch.

My life is a loop leading to insanity. I need an answer.

Wake me up from this.

I want this to end.

In the back of her head she'd been thinking about things like this for years, never really understanding or indulging upon them fully, until now.

She stood in the middle of her hotel room for a while, fighting her demons. Small steps were being made.

I need this to end...

She felt a wave come over her, a heavy blanket. It made her thoughts disappear and her eyes dulled, she felt good, warm, content. A switch had been flipped.

She walked into the living room, picking up a few wine glasses and a bottle from previous nights. She hoped cleaning and doing things would get her out of her mind. She turned and made her way into the kitchen, carrying what was left in the other room alongside her. Vinyl brought the dirty glasses over towards the dishwasher, loading most of them in. As she brought the last one along she subconsciously hit it on the edge of the island counter top, breaking the glass and splitting it into two main pieces and creating shards of glass in the process. She flew the glass over towards a trash can and let the broken pieces fall into it, all but one. While doing this she hovered the nearly empty bottle over the island and let it drop from a short height. It landed and fell over, the quark blocking the liquid from pouring out as it rolled, luckily not having broken from the short drop. Just as luckily it didn't fall off the island, never making it near the edge.

She'd struggled with thoughts like this for a while.

The glass shard was brought towards her and was lifted up by her neck. Not once did any thought go through her mind and her expression never changed.

Is this really whats best? A thought exploded in her head.

This is... Something that needs to be done.

Nothing changed on the outside as she began to take deep breaths, something she wasn't aware she was doing.

I'll never recover mentally. I can't un-see what's been seen and redo the things that have been done. You can't come back from that.

Life just doesn't have any substance.

She didn't see death as welcoming, simply a lesser of two evils.

The glass was brought right alongside her neck and she could feel the short fur there tickle with sensation as brushed against the shard. She tilted her head in the opposite direction to expose the area ever more. She stared forward, finding it hard to care. A final thought showing itself, seeping into her.

I've had enough... Please... I want peace.

She stood there, silence surrounded her. The calm before the storm.


A moment later nothing moved and the room was silent.

Low buzzing went off as a phone vibrated on the nightstand in the bedroom she had left mere minutes before. On the screen read;

"Hope you're having a great vacation, don't forget to send the tracks over <3"

Author's Note:

Mental Illness is a very real issue, for those famous or no.

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Comments ( 3 )

oh my god im tearing up why would you do this i hate crying

It's usually really hard to feel something for characters in a story, even if it's sad, but this hit like a truck. I haven't teared up like this in months. Have my imaginary kudos while you wait for the like to kick in.

Comment posted by Zippi deleted Sep 6th, 2019
Comment posted by Zippi deleted Sep 6th, 2019
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