"Hey, Twilight!" I turn to see Sunset jogging up to me in the hallway. "Me and the rest of the girls were planning to cruise the mall, maybe head over to Pinkie's for a movie night afterwards. You in?"
"Oh, uh, sorry. I've got plans."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. With Wallflower."
"Oh, right! She was telling me you two had started hanging out together. That's great! I was worried she'd never open up to anyone else. Until now, I got the impression I was the only one she even talked to, and even then, that was more her barely tolerating me, but it sounded like you two were really hitting it off."
"Yeah, she's...pretty fun actually."
"Glad to hear it. Of course, you're both welcome to join us, but I understand if Wallflower still isn't up for large groups. Especially with the kind of energy a super-extrovert like Pinkie brings."
"Right, probably not. Our hangs are definitely a lot less...lively. Sorry."
Sunset waves a dismissive hand. "Totally not a problem. Everyone's got their own speed. But yeah, the three of us should definitely get together some time, don't you think?"
"Uhh, yeah. I guess that could be fun."
"Right, we'll have to work something out later. Anyway, have fun!" Sunset runs off to join up with the rest of the girls.
"You too!" I shout back after her.
Somehow, it had completely slipped my mind that Sunset and Wallflower were friends, though I'm not sure how close they actually are. I wonder if Sunset knows about Wallflower's 'habit'. She'd never mentioned it, but then again, neither had I. Probably because a good friend didn't go blabbing secrets that weren't theirs. Either Sunset didn't know, in which case that was the way Wallflower wanted it, or she did and simply exercises the same discretion I do.
I pull my bag over my shoulder and start making my way to the roof to meet Wallflower. About two weeks back, I had shown her my secret lunch spot, and since then we'd frequently meet up there to just chill, enjoy the view, and people watch as all the students dispersed at the end of the day. Usually, it wouldn't be long until we went to my place and my garage/lab, but one time we spent so long chatting and playing dumb games like Word Chain or virtual chess on our phones, that we lost track of time and got a rooftop view of the setting sun. Thankfully, the school didn't have any motion sensor alarms, and the doors were the kind with the bar that pushes open from the inside and locks automatically behind you, so we were able to slip out long after closing time without being caught.
As I step up onto the roof, something flies at my face. My hand shoots up to catch it, though this isn't nearly as impressive a feat of reflexes as it would be without the purple glow of my magic rapidly slowing it. I examine the projectile and find a large chocolate cookie wrapped in plastic. Wallflower is standing a few feet away, waving and eating a cookie of her own.
"Thanks, but are you ever going to stop throwing things at me?"
"Just as soon as telekinetic powers stop being cool, so, probably not any time soon."
I just roll my eyes and pull two soft drinks out of my bag, tossing one to her, which she catches with the hand not currently occupied with cramming the cookie into her mouth. I join her by the ledge, where we both enjoy our decidedly unhealthy after school snack before we head back to my place.
***
I put the labeled container of potassium back down in its spot on the lab bench, next to the ytrium and the sulfur, and steal another glance back at Wallflower, currently sprawled across the couch and flipping through a gardening magazine. The scalpel I left out sits nearby, still unused. This is the third time in a row that she's come over and hasn't cut herself once.
That's good news. Isn't it? That could mean she's getting better. That she's losing the need to harm herself. That's undoubtedly, unquestionably a positive development. One worthy of celebration.
But...
What if it's not? What if it just means she's grown more self-conscious around me? Does she think I'm silently judging her? What if that just makes her cut herself in secret somewhere else? Somewhere that's less safe?
This is bad. She could be regressing. I need to do something. I need to find some way to show her that I'm not judging her. That this is a safe place where she doesn't have to hide herself. But what?
Not paying attention, I accidentally brush my hand against the edge of the hot plate. I give a small yelp and quickly pull it back, shaking it in the air.
"You alright?" Wallflower glances up from her magazine.
"Fine, I'm fine. Just being an idiot over here."
She shrugs and returns to her reading. I look at the small red mark, already fading away. It's no big deal, the plate wasn't even that hot. It won't leave a burn.
I'm struck by an idea.
I grab a metal spatula and hold the tip in the flame of the bunsen burner, the same way I always do when I need to sterilize it and burn off any chemical residue. I hold it there for a good 30 seconds. I slide off one sleeve of my lab coat, providing better access to my shirt, which I roll up just enough to expose the side of my stomach, just above my right hip. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Wallflower, still reading her magazine. I give a quick cough, enough to make her glance up, and when I'm sure I'm in her field of view I grit my teeth and quickly press the heated end of the spatula against my exposed skin.
There's a sharp hiss as I inhale through my teeth. It definitely hurts, though not quite as much as I expected it to. Keeping it pressed against my side and overpowering the reflex to jerk it away is a lot easier than I thought, and it only gets easier after the first second as the metal cools, dispersing its heat into me and gradually dropping the rate of transfer over time.
Wallflower doesn't say anything, but I can feel her eyes on me. On the large discolored mark seared into my skin. In the corner of my eye, I can see her glancing at the scalpel on the nearby table and fidgeting. She looks at the scalpel, then back at me, then back at the scalpel again. Finally, I see her reach for it.
That's...well, not good I guess. No, I wouldn't say that. But at least she doesn't feel like she has to hide herself from me anymore. This might be a bit...unorthodox, but it's all in the interest of solidarity and building rapport. You can't help someone without that.
The metal spatula has cooled to the point that it's no longer even noticeable through the patch of loud, angry, burned skin. I move it back into the flame.
Poor Twilight. She means so well.
There's a lot of layers to this story. Sunset is a wildcard, Twilight is actively encouraging Wallflower to self-harm, Twilight is hurting herself now, and Wally... God, poor Wally.
If she's anything like she is in Bad Habits, and therefore anything like me by proxy lmfao, then this line--
--about her not being a suicide risk is full of shit. She's in danger, and her new friend's morbid fascination with her self-harming is only pushing her closer to the edge. And, given this story's tone and focus... She could very well actually try to kill herself.
It's like we were talking about earlier. She has it under control... Until she doesn't.
This story is my jam.
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She really does
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The way this chapter is written and structured is interesting. Twilight notes that Wallflower hasn't made use of her scalpel in three consecutive visits, which leads me to wonder if Twilight making friends with Wallflower as she did gave her reason to feel like she could stop cutting herself. And if such is the case, has Twilight unintentionally led Wallflower to believe that some form of reciprocation is now necessary in order for them to be friends?
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Glad you're enjoying it.
First chapter Twilight is basically just me, and while following chapters are thankfully in no way autobiographical, they're something of an exercise in "what is the worst possible way I could handle that hypothetical scenario while still plausibly being able to convince myself I'm helping."
Which I guess makes the entire story something like a giant intrusive thought I'm having.
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I uhh... I hope those fics of mine that you read aren't partially responsible for those thoughts x_x
Seriously though, please never hurt yourself.
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Nope. Definitely been that way a long time. And it really isn't a problem at all. Absolutely no impulses to hurt myself, just speculation on what would happen if I did X. With the answer usually being "that would certainly suck. Better not do that."
I'm fine.
Though I realize that's probably less reassuring when the entire story is about a character who is convinced they're fine and definitely isn't.
This looks like it is going to be a really, really destructive friendship.
Instead of one person helping the other, they seem to be enabling each other's worst habits.
At first I was thinking "Wait, what does Twilight need yttrium of all elements for?", then I looked again and thought "Hang on, did you make as delightfully nerdy a suicide joke as I think you just did there?". Bravo, bloody bravo.
It's almost as though Twilight's thought processes are similar to your typical trains of thought associated with depression: Making links that aren't there and extrapolating them until they spiral out of all reason. Except instead of those thoughts dragging you further into depression, Twilight's thoughts cause her to make all the absolute worst decisions on what could otherwise be a pretty healthy friendship.
All while maintaining that paltry justification of her being in control and doing it because she just knows it will help.
I have pretty thick and tough skin, so I'm with Twilight here. Branding is better.
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Glad I'm not the only person who seriously contemplates without intent stepping in front of a bus.
That chemistry pun... Very clever.