Book 1 - The Behemoth came to Canterlot

by Equimorto

Tide

Trixie had never felt worse in her life. Not even after being humiliated during her first visit to Ponyville, not even after the second one, at no point in between the two. Not during Equestria's many crises, not a single time since her return to Ponyville and her meeting with Starlight, not even when she'd feared she'd lost her friendship so soon after meeting her. She'd never felt like that. She'd never felt truly, completely useless.

It gnawed at her. It burnt through her, leaving her hollow and cold. There was nothing she could do, nothing she could even attempt. She was a dead weight, only putting everyone else there in more danger as they were forced to keep her safe while she couldn't do so herself. It was horrible, and there was nothing she could do but live through it and hope.

She wished she could just go away. She wished she could run away or hide safely or rewind time to never choose to go there in the first place. She could do none of that. All she could do was wander the town with everyone else, never safe, never far from danger, unable to provide any kind of help that wasn't carrying her own weight around. All she did was make them an easier target by being there.

It was miserable, to say the least. In different circumstances it would have made her angry. And it did incite anger, but it was directionless, with no target but her own self. It was draining on her mind. The constant tension, the persistent knowledge that she could do nothing but exist through things, the permeating feeling of powerlessness. The closest she'd ever felt to it had probably been the Behemoth's arrival or its more recent step, but even those hadn't been as hopeless. There had been things for her to do.

Not there, not then. She was a walking target trying to survive as more capable ponies around her scrambled to keep her and themselves safe while even more capable ponies worked on actually solving the root of the issues. And of all the ponies there, she was the most useless, and she knew that. They all knew that, though those around her were far too nice to actually say it. Not that she thought it would have been right for them to leave her to die or somesuch, but if they harboured anger for her decision to be there in the first place she could not blame them in the least.

And maybe that was the worst part of it. That no one had done anything wrong, and no one was yet doing anything wrong. Things just happened as they did. She'd made no mistakes save for arguably choosing to be there, and no one since had done her wrong. Her uselessness there was entirely born out of her own nature and nothing else. She merely was, with no other choice and no better option or course of action. And it was frustrating, deeply, to no end.

Comments

[Speckle]

Feeling that there's nothing you can do when people/ponies need help is one of the worst feelings in the world

[Saix]