• Published 24th Feb 2020
  • 819 Views, 58 Comments

Just Thoughts - PonyAmorous

Twilight Sparkle is fine. She would never intentionally hurt herself. They're just morbid thoughts. Nothing to worry about. She's not suicidal, or even depressed! But Wallflower might be. Should she say something? Is it any of her business?

  • ...


My heart is still in my throat as I leap out of the bus and run up to the pair of double doors. The maddeningly cryptic phone call with Wallflower replays in my head, just as it had for the entire bus ride downtown.


Hey, Twilight. Don't freak out or anything, but...something happened and I need to talk to you. Like, right away if possible?

Sure, do you want me to come by your house?

Uh, n-no. I'm actually...in the hospital at the moment.


I'll tell you more when you get here, just hurry.

I somehow keep it together as I get Wallflower's room number after they confirm that I've been specifically requested as a visitor. I don't know how I manage to keep myself from running through the hallways. I finally find the right room and step inside.

Wallflower lies in a hospital bed, one arm wrapped tightly in bandages and an IV saline drip running into the other. A man I recognize as her father sits in a chair nearby. She looks up at me and smiles.

"Twilight! You made it!" She turns to her father. "Uh, hey dad? Do you mind if we...have a little privacy? You know, some girl talk?"

Any reluctance on his part is masked by a reassuring smile.

"Sure. I'll go get some juice. I'll be back in five minutes." I note the emphasis on the short duration he's willing to let her out of his sight.

As soon as the door closes behind him, I whirl on her. "Wallflower! What happ—?"

She raises a finger to her lips and waves for me to come closer. I lean in close and repeat in a shrill whisper.

"What happened?!"

"I just got a bit carried away, that's all. It's not as bad as it looks, really."

"Really?! Cause you're in the freaking hospital!"

"I know, alright! Look, I called you because I need a favor."


"Well, I don't think they're going to let me go home any time soon, and my parents are both here at the moment, trading off between staying in here with me and talking with the doctors, but sooner rather than later at least one of them is gonna head home and they're almost certainly going to toss my room. So, you remember what we were joking about last week?"

"You want me to break into your house to delete your porn?"

"No, not that. Well, not specifically. Okay, so there might be a certain flash drive among the small box of personal effects I need you to grab from the bottom drawer of my dresser."


"Yes! It's got my razor collection and a really cool pocket knife I worked really hard to get. If my parents find it, it's all gone! Just, grab it and keep it safe for me. You're the only person I can trust with this."

"Alright, I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Twilight. I knew I could count on you. You're a good friend."

I stand up and take a step back as her dad returns bearing apple juice.

"Don't worry, Wallflower. I'll make sure to bring all your school assignments, and I'll even help you study."

"Thanks. You're the best, Twilight!" She calls out after me as I hastily exit and make my way to the bus stop.

As I make my commute across town, I'm determined not to let Wallflower down, but I'm still angry at her. How could she do this? I thought she was smarter than that! Careful! How could she be so reckless, so careless as to get herself caug-hurt like that? Now she was probably gonna be stuck there under observation for weeks! Then who am I supposed to ——— with?

I finally arrive at Wallflower's house and confirm that the coast is clear. I can see her bedroom window up on the second floor, but I'm not certain of the best way to reach it. I fuss about half a minute trying to determine if the drain pipe can hold my weight before slapping a palm to my face and simply levitating myself up. A little more magic flips the lever on the other side of the glass, unlocking the window and allowing me to crawl inelegantly through, knocking assorted debris off the writing desk I have to climb over in the process.

Brushing myself off and looking around the room, I ignore the coppery smell of dried blood coming from the attached bathroom and make my way over to Wallflower's dresser. I open the bottom drawer and push aside the pile of socks to expose a plain wooden box. I flip up the lid and spot about a dozen cartridges of razors, a flash drive, what looks like a small pocket diary, and an ornate looking knife with an etched wave pattern that looks sharp enough to slice through skin like paper. This is it. The place where Wallflower stashes all her dirty secrets together. And she trusts me to look after them.

I snap the lid shut and tuck the box under my arm, pushing the drawer shut with my foot. I crawl back over the writing desk and out the window, landing in a crouch on the front lawn. A bit of magic closes and locks the window behind me and I start on my way back to my house.


I slide the nondescript brown box under the couch in my garage/lab. It's only a temporary hiding space. I'll think of something more secure later. Like maybe a miniature safe or secret panel with a combination lock on the inside that can only be manipulated via telekinesis. That's where I'd keep my stuff if I had anything to hide.

My thought is interrupted by my phone buzzing in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from Sunset.

Twilight! I just heard Wallflower's in the hospital! Heading there now to check on her. Do you have any idea what happened?

My blood runs cold.

What is Wallflower going to tell her? What if Sunset...what if she uses her contact telepathy to see into her memories? Sees what Wallflower and I have been doing? Not that I think I've done anything wrong! No! Definitely Not! I've got nothing to hide! It's just that some of those visions could be misinterpreted. Could look...problematic without the proper context. That's all.

I leave the house. I need some air. Some space to think. To collect my thoughts and get the proper words together to explain to Sunset that it's not how it looks. How much progress I've made in helping Wallflower, and that this whole hospitalization thing is a just a small setback. Everything will be fine.

My thumb idly rubs at the area just above my right hip.

I'm fine. It's all fine. There's nothing to be worried about. I just have to find the right way to explain it to Sunset. To make her understand. And I could do that if I could just slow my thoughts down for a minute and actually think! I look at my surroundings. It seems I've made my way to the school, but I don't have the slightest recollection of the trip over here. It doesn't matter, I know where I need to go to work this out.

It's the weekend, so of course the doors are locked, but a sharp burst of telekinetic force to the delicate internal mechanisms of the lock makes short work of that problem. I run through the empty halls until I reach the secret door up to the roof. I know this is where I'll find the solution. I just need some time to think.

I take a quick glance at my phone, and I guess more time has passed than I thought during my amnesiac transit. There's a huge pileup of missed calls and texts from Sunset.

Just saw Wallflower in the hospital. We need to talk. I'm coming over.

I'm here. Let me in.

Twilight, answer the door.

Twilight, where are you?

Where are you?

Twilight, tell me where you are.

Twilight, please pick up.

Answer me.


Twilight Please! I swear I'm not mad. Just let me know you're okay!

Just tell me you're alright!


While I'm reading, the phone suddenly rings in my hand. Startled, my thumb mashes the answer button automatically.

"Twilight? TWILIGHT! Please, tell me where you are!"

I slam a finger down on the end call button and resume my pacing, ignoring the constant ringing that soon resumes. No, I'm not ready to deal with that yet. I still don't have the words. I'll call her back soon. Just as soon as I know what to say. Of course, I'm aware that the more I dodge her calls, the better that explanation is going to have to be. I just need to get my thoughts in order. I just need to—

In my distraction, I overextend one of my paces and my foot catches on something, causing me to stumble and trip. That something turns out to be the ledge and suddenly I'm over the side, falling through the open air as the ground rushes up at me.

On instinct, I lash out with my magic and catch myself about half-way down, then lower myself gently the rest of the way to the pavement below. I pause to catch my breath. The jackhammering of my heart in my chest would put a hummingbird to shame. But my head...my head is clear. For a moment, the storm of racing thoughts have been quieted and everything seems clearer. Sharper. But I can feel them crawling back in from the edges, whipping up the winds once again.

But now I know how to deal with that.

I float myself back up to the top of the roof again and stand on the edge. This time I jump. It's much better this time, without the terror and panic of it being sprung on me by surprise. My thoughts clear as I embrace that sweet feeling of free fall. I easily catch myself in my magic again, maybe just slightly lower than half-way this time, squeezing just the slightest bit more time out of this jump before having to go back up and jump again. And again. A little lower each time.

Yes. This is what I need. Just a little more and I'll have the answer I'm looking for. It'll all work out.

I jump again.

I can still hear the frantic ringing of the phone sitting on the ledge nearby, but it's easily tuned out. The same with the sounds of a motorcycle roaring in the distance. None of that bothers me. I'm so very close now. Just a little further and I'll reach my goal. I'll hit on a solid solution to this whole predicament.

I step off the roof once again, into the sweet embrace of free fall.

I'm fine.

Author's Note:

Well that certainly was an...interesting story to write. I'm surprised how fast I got it done, but I kinda needed to because the concept was getting REALLY distracting in my head and I kinda need to start filling out taxes and financial aid forms and stuff regarding entering a PhD program.

Question for the readers: Do I need to bump this up from T to M? My thought is that the latter is usually only for explicit graphic content, but this might make up the difference with the disturbing factor. Can't really judge that myself though, have to ask the readers.

Thanks for reading.

PS: I suppose it's customary to drop this here.
National Suicide Prevention Hotline 1-800-273-8255

Comments ( 20 )

It still fits in the T category. It would only be M if you made it super detailed or had some type of organ involved.

Oh wow, it's over already? Huh.

I guess it would be hypocritical of me to ask for a follow-up, but I'm still gonna, lulz. I want more Wallyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy--

Good story all around. Like she said, Twilight has it all under control, it's fine, she's fine... Until she's not. You captured that essence very well here.

Why... why did you do that... why does she have to be gone...


that one Wallyfic Scampy did about Wallflower cutting herself

You're gonna have to be way more specific :v

I mean, she doesn't have to be.

Might almost be worse if she gets caught. Literally.

Holy shit, that got out of control quickly - "Spiral" is definitely an apt name for this chapter.

It's only really in the last few paragraphs, when Sunset is introduced as an outside observer, that we get a glance at just how far Twilight has fallen. Up until then, it's clear that she's gotten worse but things still seemed... containable. It's only with the context that Sunset's reactions gave that you realise the story's final two words are a flat-out lie.

Really enjoyable read, in a "watching a runaway train" sort of way. It certainly made me wonder what the story might've been like told from Wallflower's or Sunset's point of view as well - either the person who's had extensive experience with this, or the person who's had none at all.

I open the bottom drawer and push aside the pile of socks to expose a plain wooden box.

What kind of monster...
Everybody knows it goes socks/undergarments, shirts, pants!

Also NSPH is hot fucking garbage.

When someone brings up the quaint notion of "planning for retirement", I usually laugh and say that the retirement plan for most millenials is stepping in front of a train.
I don't know what NSPH is, but it's shirts on top, shorts/pants in middle, and socks/underwear on bottom, you heretic!

The suicide prevention hotline people. I've gotten what boils down to "just stop being sad like ???" And hung up on, on multiple occasions. I'm not an outlier, it's a pretty common experience.

Damn..... I always thought I was morbid
This was a really interesting fic to read and I think its really smart how you set it up, only to have Twilight drop herself into this rabbit hole or should I say jump into

I love how well-written this story is, and the ending is beyond incredible. It honestly is a good ending, and you've done such a great job on this fic, but honestly I'm very concerned for Twi. I know that was your intent, and you succeeded. Very well done. I know the ending is supposed to be up for interpretation by the viewer, but what's your interpretation of it? Was it your intent to... kill Twilight?

You're definitely right that ambiguity is the intent. As such, I'm not really sure that even I have a preferential interpretation. If I had to say, I've probably got a 60% leaning towards dead.

Then there's always the pragmatic side to any ambiguous endings, intenionally leaving things open for sequels that may or may not happen. At the moment I don't have any intention of continuing it either way (I think it would kind of undercut the impact of the ending to break that ambiguity) but if for some reason I feel compelled to in the future, options are open.

Though if anyone else wanted to write an unofficial sequel or spin off work I wouldn't object.

Coming back to this fic, I've realized something interesting about my writing of Twilight in this and other fics. She's definitely the character I relate to the most of the Mane 6, so I naturally put a lot of myself into writing her when fleshing out small details, like taking super hot baths that induce mild heat stroke, which is trait I include in multiple fics. But I recently realized another consistent detail that was entirely accidental. It's obviously most explicit in this fic, but in Substitute, Then Tomorrow Came, and Heart of Loyalty, there is at least one passing incidence of suicidal ideation (even if the plot doesn't revolve around it) and in all instances, it involves jumping.

That...was not a pattern I intended to create. Disconcerting.

I believe you have struck and pulverized your target of creating a horrifying thriller. There is little I can add to the comments from others, lest I incriminate myself. Abolutely terrific!

It's always a weird feeling when our own stories hint at something we didn't know about ourselves <_<

I've heard similar things about that story before, which is interesting to me cuz I slapped it out in the middle of the night on an angsty whim without putting any kind of extensive planning into it. I guess sometimes the stars just align.

Big thankies either way though! I hope you like its sequel too


Because the faint faint voice of self preservation and self love may be a bare whisper in a hurricane. But there are the odd moments of stillness where it pushes you just as hard as anything else ever does.

Maybe those moments are disconnected and never lead to anything more. But the fact they can happen is kind of a miracle.

Shit, man. This kind of positivity is something myself and probably a lot of other people need to hear.

You're a good bean.

Boy do I know that feel. My most popular story by far remains "Pinkie Pie is an Eldritch Abomination", which according to the rankings (which I always take with a grain of salt, the algorithm being as inscrutable as it is) is sitting at 260th out of however many hundreds of thousands after 8 years (I even saw it hit 2nd for a brief second during the churn back in the day).

And I wrote that off in like 2 hours because I was procrastinating on writing a chapter of Then Tomorrow Came. I guess it hit a sweet spot of short length and interesting premise holding up well over time with evolving canon, aside from a bit about Daring Do still being fiction. I still like how it turned out, but it's still weird that it's so far above everything I sunk so much more effort into.

It seems like Twilight's suicide at the end came a little out of left field. I wasn't expecting the story to end with everybody learning self-harm is bad and living happily ever after, but twilight moves from a single instance of self burning and some curious thoughts to throwing herself off a building without anything in between.

There's definitely some time skips involved implying more than one instance, and a fair amount of denial and self-delusion over how deep and obsessive those thoughts are running.

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