End of the Line

by Sunlight Rays

Chapter 8: Hell-Bent

It didn’t take long for me to completely lose the drive to continue on. At first, I tried to fight against the thoughts that plagued my head. I tried, with all of my might, to deny the negative thoughts I had and encourage myself to have faith in myself and the future. At first, it kind of worked, as my negatives and positives were in a battle, a stalemate for about two weeks. But then, as I received yet another D, followed by an F the next week, my defenses crumbled. The grades were undeniable proof that I wasn’t supposed to be here, that I wasn’t worthy enough. I tried to fight again, but failed.

Next, I tried to divert my attention from those thoughts. I immersed myself in studying, as well as playing outside during recess time. I tried to stick with others, since being left alone meant becoming susceptible to my own thoughts, and being poked fun of was better than being left alone with my own thoughts. But when I returned to my dorm room at the end of the day, when I was too tired to do anything but lie in bed, yet unable to sleep for hours, the thoughts, which were now unstoppable demonic souls, returned as well.

I eventually began breaking stuff, as a sort of a last stand against my own inner demons. It had the effect of letting me vent my stress, and it was quite fun. The mirror in the bathroom became my major victim. Every time the voice spoke from the mirror — or was it coming from inside my head? — I slammed my hoof against the fractured glass, breaking it more and more every night. It would quell the voices for a hours, or even a few days if I was lucky. But they eventually came back, and I would find myself punching the mirror again and again.

Eventually, the spider web-like lines engulfed the entirety of my reflection, just like how my inner monsters were eating away at me. I could no longer see myself in the mirror, while the voices in my mind grew louder and clearer than ever.

Then, one night, I asked myself.

Why? Why are you doing this to yourself? I cried. Why are you torturing yourself to the point where you can’t even go on?

Simple, came the reply. You’ve failed, Lux. You’ve failed yourself, your own parents, your teachers, your classmates, everypony you knew. And when you fail, you pay the price.

Please, I pleaded, just give me peace. Please, don’t make me suffer more than what I’ve already suffered. I don’t want to doubt myself, or feel guilty just because I failed, or fear what may torture me in the future…. I… I just wanted to be a happy, normal pony. Please….

Silence reigned for a moment. Then it spoke, I’m afraid it’s too late for you, for me to become normal, Lux. I’m sorry it had to be this way, but you did fail, and failures have to pay the price for failing.

I screamed. I screamed into the vast nothingness, where my happiness and pride and ego and joy used to be. But there was nothing I could do to stop the wave of despair as it washed me away.

---

It was cunning. I was cunning. I was constantly torturing myself with my own thoughts, while putting up a fake smile so that nopony would notice a thing. I continued to go to classes and eat meals with others. But, on the inside, it was a constant battle just to keep myself going. Every morning, I would have to persuade myself for minutes just to get myself out of bed. During class, my mind constantly tortured me, while I let the teachers’ rant wash over me. I was effectively trapped in a bubble I had created myself, while I slowly suffocated to death inside it, no one able to hear my screams for help.

Sometimes, I wanted death to take everything over. Just let everything go, and I would slowly drift away into the eternal darkness. The world would go on, and I wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. My family would mourn my death, but I thought they could, at least, live on with it. I couldn’t with my own thoughts. So, slowly but surely, I began to consider the last and worst option I had.

Only that I didn’t know it wasn’t the last option I had at the time.

Time flowed, and finals arrived. It was another six hours of me just staring down into the paper, unable to solve a single problem. Or was I unwilling to? I don’t know. Makes no difference. The point is that I fared worse than I had in my midterms. Two D’s, and four F’s.

My parents called me again, and this time they were angry. They scolded me for not being able to get good grades, for not trying harder. I didn’t retort; no point in doing so when they didn’t understand a thing. I let my parents rant away about the importance of getting good grades and trying harder, while I immersed myself in my own thoughts.

I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t supposed to come here in the first place. The finals had proven me to that point. And yet I did, and it was too late to go back. I had failed everyone, and now my teachers, peers, and even my parents were accusing me and making fun of me for doing so. There was… no way out. Except one.

I considered methods. There were several ways one could take his own life away. I could stab myself in the chest or neck. Assuming I hit the mark, it would be a pretty fast way of killing myself. I could also take a lethal dose of potassium cyanide, the substance that killed Echo. Or I could climb up to a secluded tower of the Canterlot Castle and fall off of the roof. No one would ever see me jump, and, given the structure of the castle, it would be some time before somepony finally found my broken body.

When the call was over, I sighed and went through my stuff and pulled out a blade cutter, one I used for cutting paper and boxes. This would do the task no problem. I extracted the blade, and pressed it against my neck, where I could feel my pulse beat against the cold metal.

But something in the back of my mind said, No, Lux. Please don’t do this. You can’t do this.

And I replied, Why? Give me a good reason I shouldn’t. Nopony cares about me, so why shouldn’t I do this? What’s there to keep me from doing this?

Look, there’s gotta be somepony that cares about you. Don’t you remember how much your family cared about you?

That’s the past, I snorted inwards. Don’t you see what they’ve done when I screwed up my midterms and finals? They don’t understand a thing about my situation. And, naturally, when they don’t understand, they don’t care. Either don’t or can’t — makes no difference. Same with other ponies around me; the teachers think that I’m not trying hard enough, and my classmates regard me as a laughing matter. They all think I’m not working hard enough, when, in truth, I’ve pushed myself to the limit. Pushed myself so hard, in fact, that I pushed myself over the ledge.

But, but… there’s still a chance—

Chance for what? A chance that somepony might actually care? Forget it. There’s no one out there who can save me now. No. One.

The voice went silent. Then it said, Just… please don’t do it, Lux… you know it’s not right….

I snorted. Then, after casting another glance at the blade cutter, I slammed it back into the cabinet where I had taken the cutter from.

I turned and stared up at the secluded tower I had been thinking about.

Comments

[Sparkle Cola]

Y’know... after such a horrific beat-down and Very likely severe concussion... and the school just expected he’d be fine... in a harder class?! C’mon, now.