Liquid Courage

by JeremyStorm

First published

Berry Punch finds solace at the bottom of two bottles.

I have a great life. I have an amazing daughter and a best friend that I couldn't love more even if she is a bit too high-energy for my tastes. I love a nice glass of wine before bed.

My name is Berry Punch and I have a problem.

Solace at the Bottom of a Bottle

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I woke up that morning knowing that day was going to be the day.

I’m not sure what made that day so special that I would pick it over any other. It was a random day in the middle of the week, though I’d be lying if I said I knew which one. It wasn’t a holiday or a birthday or anything else I knew of. My bedroom was exactly as it always was, dark and gloomy, with little in the way of personal effects, just as I like it. The bed was a mess, blankets and pillows thrown everywhere as I tossed and turned the night before. A nightstand leaned precariously to one side, the result of knocking it over one too many times in drunken stumbles or mad dashes to the bathroom during the hangover afterwards.

Three empty wine bottles lay scattered on the floor. Well, two were empty; one had still had about half the bottle left when I dropped it the night before if the giant purple stain under it was any indication. Oh well, it wasn’t the first time that old carpet had been stained with things and it wouldn’t be the last. That was why I never bothered cleaning it up. What was the point if it was just going to get messed up again the next night?

I pulled myself out of bed, wincing as the world spun crazily under my hooves. I bit down on the urge to vomit as I closed my eyes and waited for the floor to resume its stable state. When normalcy reasserted itself, I trudged out of the room and towards the bathroom.

I made it maybe two steps inside, enough to hear the tiny click-clack of my hooves on the tile floor before I threw myself over the toilet. My eyes watered behind their lids as I threw up last night’s binge. I would say that it tasted better going down than it did up but I don’t even remember last night so I wouldn’t know. But the taste of wine laced with stomach acid was a taste I was intimately familiar with, so I can’t say that it bothered me much beyond the headache that always came with the dry-heaving afterward.

I opened my eyes and took in the disgusting mess swirling in the bowl beneath me. There wasn’t a single chunk of anything resembling food. Had I even eaten yesterday? I couldn’t remember that either. I fumbled for the lever and with a roar, all traces of last night’s disgrace slipped away, never to be seen again. Out of sight, out of mind my mother used to tell me. If you couldn’t prove it happened, who's to say it ever did?

When feeling finally returned to my legs, I stood and went about the rest of my morning routine. Brush my teeth to get rid of the smell —I certainly couldn’t get rid of the taste anymore— shower to remove the funk that other ponies would turn their noses at, and make some sort of effort to brush my bushy mess of a mane and tail. I had to at least make myself look somewhat presentable, ‘less I wanted ponies following me all day asking stupid questions.

Which I didn’t. Being alone was tiresome enough. Being not alone was even worse.

That being said, I did have some errands to run that day. Okay, I actually only had one errand to run that day, but it did involve speaking with a very loud, very talkative, very infuriating unicorn that drove me up a wall and that I normally avoided like the plague. Except for the fact that she was also my best friend. Not that it was a hard title to earn since she was my only friend.

I stumbled out of the bathroom and up the short hallway to the living room, nearly knocking over a decorative table that I had forgotten the purpose of years ago. Maybe I had put it there specifically to bump into. If not, that was at least its purpose now by virtue of doing nothing else.

Pinchy’s room was empty as I passed, which was good at least. I had no idea what time it was because the whole house was dark by design, what with heavy curtains blocking every window, but that meant that she had at least taken herself to school. One less thing to worry about before I left.

The living room was a disaster area, which meant it was exactly like normal. Empty food containers and bottles, dirty dishes and forgotten junk mail covered every available surface and some that was even unavailable as it cascaded across the floor. I picked my way around them as I made for the front door.

I was about to let myself out into the brightly-lit hell that was day when something caught my eye. Propped up beside the door in the corner was a dark green umbrella. It wasn’t anything special, just a cheap thing made to be functional first and stylish never. It was something I could have bought for five bits anytime in the marketplace, but I hadn’t even bought that one. No, I had borrowed it from a friend ages ago. When exactly had that been?

I couldn’t even remember anymore. It had just sat there, unused, so long that a layer of dust formed around it. I don’t even know why I had bothered to borrow it in the first place since I never used it. I would rather just walk out and get wet than have to fuss with it everywhere I went.

Figuring I should return it, I bit its handle only to wish I had washed it off first. The dust on the handle tasted dry and sour. Spitting it out long enough to wipe it off with a hoof, I took it up again and left. Too bad I couldn’t wipe the taste that lingered on my tongue.

Sure enough, day was in full swing outside the safety of my house. The piercing pain between my temples seared as I fought to remain upright. The heat already pelting my coat left me feeling sweaty and faint, but I soldiered on. I just had to make this one little errand then I could return to the comfort of my dark sanctuary.

Ponies I knew and didn’t know alike waved cheerfully as they passed much faster than I did. I did my best to return with a wave of my own, which probably came across as little more than a pathetic wiggle. I mean really, it's hard enough to walk on three legs while not hungover. How do other ponies do it?

I had no time to ponder the strangeness of equine nature before I found myself outside the home I was looking for. Judging by the sun just barely off directly overhead, it was probably a little while after lunch. That meant that she should be home.

Leaning against the doorframe to give my body a break from having to balance, I knocked on the door and waited. It didn’t take long before I heard the near-rhythmic thuds of the most annoying pain in my flank bouncing towards the door. It burst open so fast you’d think somepony had rammed it down. But they couldn’t have, because I was standing where they would have to be to do so. Or leaning rather, but the point stands.

The mare that greeted me was Minuette, or as I preferred to call her ‘Hey you, stop annoying me.’ She was a sky blue unicorn, which at the moment only made me think of said sky, which made me think of the sun, which reminded me how stupidly bright it was outside. This meant that even before that idiotically wide grin split her face in half I was already in a bad mood with her.

So it was like I normally felt about her.

“Hey Berry! How ‘ya doing?!” she screamed far too loudly. Well, for her it was her normal volume level, which just so happened to be about twice as loud as what I thought was appropriate. Either way, another pain lanced through my head and I was tempted to reach out and slap the voice out of her, but that would only cause her to yelp and that would hurt my head even more so I resisted the urge.

“Shut up, Colgate,” I hissed through clenched teeth. Did I mention why I call her that? It’s because it looked like someone squirted a glob of toothpaste on her head where her mane should be. It's no wonder she went on to be a dentist. “You’re at an eleven, and you need to be at a two.”

She giggled beneath a hoof just like she used to do when she was a little filly. At least, I assume she did, because I never knew her as a filly. It just seemed like the kind of thing she’d do.

“Sorry, I’ll try to be quieter,” she said, making no effort to do so. Her shoulders bounced in mirth as she waved me inside.

Colgate’s house was a lot nicer than mine. It was bigger and cleaner and there wasn’t garbage everywhere. She led me into a sitting room and I plopped down on her couch as she went to make tea. I don’t know why I bothered letting her since I wasn’t planning on being there long, but she had already whipped out of the room and I didn’t yell after her. Maybe it was because that was just what she always did when I came over. She was a much better hostess than I was too, not that anypony but her ever tried to visit me.

“Vanilla tea with just a hint of raspberry!,” she said as she proudly set a laden tray on the coffee table before me. On it was a dainty teapot, steam still seeping out the spout, decorated in delicate blue painted lines. It looked like it belonged in an art museum instead of someone’s kitchen. The two little teacups she brought out matched it.

She used her magic to add a bag to each cup before pouring in the water. Immediately a very sweet, fruity scent invaded my nose. For half a second I felt the need to retch again and nearly got up to race for the bathroom. But then the sensation passed and I felt my stomach relax.

If Colgate had noticed anything about my reaction she didn’t show it. She was still smiling far too wide as she took a whiff of her tea. She let out a relaxed little sigh as her magic dipped the bag in and out.

“I’ve not tried this blend yet, so you’ll have to tell me what you think,” she said, finally a bit quieter. My aching ears thanked her even if my mouth didn’t.

Instead I stayed silent as I clumsily picked up the small cup between my hooves. Seriously, would it kill her to keep something around that didn’t look like it’d break if you looked at it funny for her poor put-upon earth pony friend? Not all of us had stupid magic to do whatever we wanted with.

Still, the tea, though hot, was alright. I didn’t really like tea, but it was seriously the only thing Colgate drank so I ended up getting more of my fair share of it just by association. It had grown on me enough that I could stomach it easily enough.

“It’s alright,” I told her. Something in it must have had medicinal effects because my voice sounded a little less hoarse than it had before.

Once again, Colgate either didn’t notice or didn’t care to mention it.

“Oh Berry, don’t worry! We’ll make you a tea aficionado yet!” she chirped, shaking her head at whatever it was she was thinking. Probably that I was too dour. Yeah, compared to her I probably looked that way. Not everypony had a permanent sugar high running high-octane through their veins like she did. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? And why are you carrying an umbrella on a perfectly-clear summer day?”

Oh yeah. I had nearly forgotten about it. I had dropped it to rest against the couch next to me when I sat down, so I picked it up and hoofed it over to her. She took it, giving it a questioning look before turning said look on me.

“It’s yours,” I explained. “Borrowed it a while ago. Thought I should give it back.”

“Mine?” Colgate asked, looking only more confused. She looked the thing over like she was trying to find a neon sign saying ‘Property of Colgate’ on it. “Are you sure? I don’t remember ever… Wait! I lent this to you like, years ago! I’d completely forgotten about it. I’m amazed you even still have it!”

“Yeah well,” I grumbled. I could feel my cheeks starting to heat up. It was one thing I could be grateful for having my dull mulberry coat for. “Like I said, I figured I should return it.”

“I guess…” Colgate said. She shot the umbrella one last look before magic-ing it across the room and next to the door. When she turned back to me her smile was gone and my breath caught in my chest. I wasn’t even sure why. Sure if she started asking questions it’d be annoying but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. I could talk my way out of just about anything she threw at me anymore. Even if that didn’t work, I could still just say something really rude or yell at her or something and that would hurt her enough to get her to stop talking to me.

Easy.

Relief still flooded through me anyway when she smiled again. “Was that the only reason you came by?” she asked.

“What, am I not allowed to just come over to visit anymore?” I asked.

“Berry, you’ve never just come over to visit before,” Colgate said softly. She was still smiling, but it was different now. She apparently thought it was her turn to be put-upon. “You only come over when you need something. Not that I mind, but…”

“But you’d appreciate it if I got on with it?” I asked tersely. I could take a hint.

“Berry…”

“No, I get it, it’s fine. I just wanted to make sure you were still on for watching Pinchy tonight. And getting her to the train station tomorrow?”

Colgate inspected me over the top of her cup, from which she took a measured sip. She held the look just long enough to unnerve me, making me wonder if she had even heard me. Or if she was trying to cover up for having completely forgotten. We’d made the plans two weeks ago, so I wouldn’t have blamed her if she had.

Finally she sat the cup down. “Of course I am. You wanted me to pick her up from school today too, right?”

“Yep.”

“Alright. Though, you never told me why.”

I shrugged. “Pinchy hasn’t seen Mom and Dad in a while. And they’ve been badgering me to let them see their grandfoal.”

“That’s not what I mean, Berry. Why do you want me to send her off?”

“Because she’ll like spending some time with you too. She likes your sleepovers.”

Come on, Colgate, we’re almost done here. Just buy it so we can get this over with. Who had I pissed off to earn such a difficult friend? Always asking questions, always prying; never leaving well enough alone. My only saving grace was that she loved Pinchy as much as my filly loved her.

“Well alright, if you say so,” she finally said and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. Finally I was in the clear. Everything was in order.

“Thanks, Colgate,” I said, making sure to keep my tone light and casual. It was easy enough, I’ve had more than enough practice. I barely even had to think about it. If anything, it might have even come across too cheerful, but it didn’t matter anymore.

I drained the rest of my tea, not caring it was still a little too warm and hurt going down. Sitting the cup down as gently as I could, I stood.

“Welp, that was all I needed. Since I only come over to ask for something, I should be going now,” I said teasingly. Again, maybe I was just a bit too jovial, because Colgate frowned.

“Berry, you know I didn’t mean that…”

“I know.”

I stuck my tongue out at her and made for the door. Colgate followed not far behind. Her magic opened the door before I reached it, letting in the blazing light again. It wasn’t quite as bad as before as I stepped outside. Even the heat seemed a little diminished. My headache didn’t quite agree, but he was usually a dick like that.

“Berry, is everything alright?” Colgate asked. I turned back to see her standing in her doorway, one hoof raised like she’d stopped halfway to reaching out for me.

I waved her off. “Eh, nothing a little hair of the dog that bit me won’t fix. Thanks again for taking Pinchy. ‘Til next time!”

As I turned to walk away, I was struck by a flight of fancy. I waved over my shoulder to her and called out without looking back. “Love ya, Minuette!”

I wasn’t sure if she heard me or not since I didn’t look and she didn’t say anything back, but that was okay. My hooves were lighter than they had been earlier as they took me on a meandering path back through town towards my house. I was in no particular hurry since I didn’t have any pressing matters to attend to. So I let myself wander, taking in the sights of Ponyville. There were no crazy monsters or evil ponies trying to take over for once, so it was really an idyllic day. At least, as idyllic as any day could be with so much sunlight. Seriously, would it kill the Princess to dial the sun down a notch?

Actually, who knows. Maybe it would. What would some random earth pony from a hick town in the middle of nowhere know about what magic it took to raise the sun every day?

Regardless, my head was still clear by the time I finally made it back home. I had even taken the opportunity to wave to ponies passing me this time! And not just the half-hearted ‘don’t ask me to do anymore because I can’t be assed’ kind of wave, a genuine one! At least, as genuine as I could manage. I’m not sure I even knew how to do such a thing anymore.

As I let myself back into my blessedly dim home, I had nothing to do but wait.


There hadn’t really been anything in particular I wanted to do. I’d thought about taking another shower to get rid of the small amount of sweat that had built up during my trek or reading a book. I even seriously considered going back out to head to Sugarcube Corner for a sweet afternoon snack, but ultimately I decided against it.

Instead, I settled for just laying back on the couch with a freshly-opened bottle of wine. I hadn’t looked for any particular year or maker; I just took the first one my hoof found. It was only going to be the first, so it didn’t matter anyway.

As I sat back and drank straight out of the bottle, my eyes watched the clock on the wall. Noon slipped to one, which crawled on to two and eventually three. Colgate would be picking Pinchy up from school about then. The minutes eventually trickled on and by the time four rolled around I was confident I wouldn’t be seeing either of them that night.

I swigged down the rest of the bottle before getting up to grab a second. Now, I’m an earth pony. And more than that, I’m the daughter of one of the most accomplished winemakers in all of Equestria. I had been drinking wine since I was old enough to legally do so —though that was the official story, anyway; what the Princess didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. I could hold my liquor with the best of them, and one bottle over the course of a few hours did nothing to unsteady my hooves under me.

In fact, I didn’t even feel buzzed as I slipped a bottle out and checked it over. This time I wanted something a little nicer. Something tasty. 1002 RoH was a good year, but the maker I’d picked out was bad about letting a little too much sour seep in. I fumbled around the same shelf in my wine rack, hoping I had a different one somewhere. At the very back I found what I was looking for. A 997 RoH Sweet Peel red. It had been a gift from my father; only the second bottle of the same make and year I’d ever seen. It was worth a veritable fortune, but it was worth every bit. It was the perfect blend of sweetness, tartness and the fire of alcohol. I had completely forgotten I’d even had it.

It would be a shame to let it go to waste.

Too lazy to find my bottle opener, I did what I always did and just bit the cork and pulled it out. With a most satisfying pop, the most delicious aroma I’ve ever smelled immediately filled the room. I took just a moment to breathe it in. It would be tragic to not truly appreciate it.

The first drink was heaven. It tasted so perfect I nearly couldn’t stop. I chugged it down until my throat burned too bad to take anymore. My lungs ached as I gasped for air. Heat flared across my cheeks and the entire world took on a comforting fuzziness. I leaned against the wine rack next to me, perhaps a bit too hard as I was greeted with the screeching of rattling glass. I paid it no mind as I took another drink, slower and shorter this time, savoring every piece of its rich, complex taste. I closed my eyes as bliss washed over me.

It was exactly what I needed.

I’m not sure how long I stayed there, half-standing and half-held up by the wine rack. As I continued to take sips, I felt the familiar tug of gravity begin to slip. The world was turning again, exactly as it should be. My legs shook as I forced myself upright. Hooves stumbled over each other as I pushed myself through my house.

It was darker than it had been before. It was either late afternoon or evening. It didn’t matter either way.

I dragged my unsteady hooves through the living room, bouncing off the couch, down the hall, knocking over the table, and into my bedroom. The forgotten wine bottles on the floor I kicked out of the way. I stopped when I heard sloshing. Through bleary eyes I saw one still had some crimson liquid in it. Sitting down, I took it in my free forehoof and downed it.

Afterward I flopped onto the bed, least as much as I could without spilling any of the good stuff. Which meant I more or less just face-planted. The sheets were damp and uncomfortable; I couldn’t remember the last time I’d washed them. But in that moment they may as well have been clouds cradling me. I sprawled out, stretching my legs, feeling the fabric pull at the hairs of my coat. I pushed my face into the pillow like I was trying to force that wonderfully fuzzy feeling deeper inside. Maybe if I pushed it down far enough, it’d never leave me again.

I rolled over and took another swig of wine. I found out it's not good to drink while lying down, as some went down the wrong tube and I started coughing and sputtering. Eventually I forced it down and let out a shuddering sigh.

It was nearly time.

I rolled onto my side, looking to the small night stand next to my bed. All that stood on it was a battered alarm clock, and old lamp I never used and a single framed photograph. Pinchy, so much younger, looked back at me from the forelegs of a mare and stallion I no longer recognized. Celestia, had we both changed so much in two years? I reached over to turn the picture face-down. It didn’t need to see anymore.

My drunken hoof fumbled for the drawer. I got it open and fished around inside, knocking aside unopened letters from my parents and any other random junk I had squirreled away inside it. Finally I found the small plastic tube and took it out.

Seven little pills rattled around inside. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough.

Twisting the cap off proved more difficult than I had expected. Perhaps I should have gotten them out before I’d started drinking, because my hoof wouldn’t stop shaking. Eventually I had to bite it like I’d done with the cork and wrestle it off. The pills went flying all over the bed. I cursed and set about finding them all.

One by one I popped them in my mouth and washed them down with another swig. I must have upset some of the liquid in my windpipe in the search, because my eyes started watering. By the time I’d found and taken them all, I had only about a quarter of the bottle left. And though it was good, the mostly sickly sweet wine I’d ever tasted, my stomach was souring. I forced myself to chug the rest down.

When it was empty, I flung the bottle away. It bounced against the carpeted floor before smashing on the wall. I fell back, hitting the bed with a soft fwump. The ceiling swam in lazy circles above me. The dull white stucco swirled around, looking a little like clouds. I idly wondered what it would be like to fly; just take off and go wherever the wind takes you. You could just leave everything behind with just a few flaps. Maybe there was a reason I had been born an earth pony instead of a pegasus.

I reached out a hoof towards my personal clouds.

What did I need wings for, when I had wine?

Slowly, the clouds started to fade. Night rolled in, eclipsing the white sky above me. The wind of my breathing kept rolling in, slower and slower between each breeze. It was pleasantly cool. Maybe winter was rolling in…

Eventually, the sun set, and night fell.


The world was still dark when I woke up. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that I realized I was awake. It happened slowly, less like somepony turning on the lights and more like somepony rolling up the dimmer switch.

Breathing hurt. It was like there was a thousand pound weight on top of my barrel. Or somepony had poured cement in my lungs. Or acid. Something that burned and ached simultaneously. My stomach hurt too. Hay, my whole body did. I couldn’t open my eyes. I wanted to retch, but my body wouldn’t cooperate.

A soft beeping filled the air. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know what it was coming from.

“Berry…?” The voice was so quiet I wasn’t sure I heard it. But of course I had. There was no other way it could have gone, really. I’m not sure what else I had expected. Nothing in my life had ever gone the way I planned, why would this have been any different?

“Unh…” I mumbled. I’d wanted to say her name, to let her know I had heard her, but it was like my throat was glued shut. My mouth was so dry I could practically taste sand. Not to mention something far fouler stuck to my tongue.

“Here, drink this,” the voice said again and I heard the chime of magic. Cracking one eye open, I saw a plastic cup floating in front of my face, a bendy straw inches from my mouth. I obliged and cool, refreshing water entered my mouth. It felt pretty good on my aching throat.

“Thanks,” I managed to mutter once I’d gotten my fill. The water not only helped my throat, but seemed to bring just a bit of clarity to my head too. I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings.

I wasn’t surprised to find a fairly standard hospital room. Plain white walls. Dull green blankets draped over me, matching a privacy curtain pulled around my bed. I must have been in a shared room with somepony else. A moment later I heard a separate, distant beep of somepony else’s heart monitor. An IV bag hung near my head.

And in the corner, sitting upon a dull green, uncomfortable-looking chair, was Colgate.

She looked awful. Worse than I felt, and that was saying something. Her mane was a mess, not that she kept it especially well-groomed, but still it was enough for me to notice. Her eyes, I could tell even in the dark, were red and watery. The fur of her cheeks were stained with long since shed tears. Her lip quivered as she looked over me. I must have looked pretty pathetic.

“The doctor had to pump your stomach; you’d drank so much. He said they found sleeping pills in your system, too. A lot of them.” Her tone held no accusation, but her voice was terse. Brittle. Like glass. One shake, one jostle and it would shatter and rain a thousand jagged edges down.

I ignored her unspoken question. “Where’s Pinchy?”

She was silent for a long moment. I thought she would shout. Curse me. Hay, maybe she’d jump on the bed and bludgeon me to death with her own hooves. But finally she spoke. “With Lyra.”

“That’s good,” I said simply. I knew the mare as Colgate’s neighbor. I think they were friends back in Canterlot before they’d both moved here, but I could be wrong. I don’t remember a lot of things well anymore. But I knew if Colgate trusted her with Pinchy then I could too.

“Is that all you’ve got to say? ‘That’s good’?!” Colgate snarled. “You nearly left her without a mother! How could you do that to her?!”

I winced. She might as well have kicked me in the heart. It probably would have hurt less.

She must have expected me to say something, but I had no words for her. No words could explain to her why I did what I had done. I didn’t even know why, at least not in any way I could express with something as inadequate as words. Or maybe I just wasn’t smart enough to think of them. No, there was no maybe about that, I definitely wasn’t.

But that was neither here nor there, because no matter what I said Colgate would never understand. It just wasn’t in her nature. Good ponies like her just can’t understand ponies like me. It wasn’t her fault. If anything, I was glad she didn’t. It was a lot better that way.

Even if it meant she would never forgive me.

I heard her shift in her chair and watched her body deflate before my eyes. She fell back like the life had been sucked out of her and sobbed. She cried the body-wracking cries of someone who couldn’t even comprehend how much pain she was in. Like Pinchy had as she looked down into the casket two years ago.

Just like I’d had no words to explain myself to her, I had no words to take away Colgate’s pain either. And so I lay there, useless and pathetic, and watched her cry.

I don’t know how long it was before her tears slowed and the sobs turned to wet hiccups. She sniffled, wiping at her eyes, more bloodshot than before, and stared at me again.

“How’d you find me?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I had any chance to catch them.

She shrugged, the gesture looking more like a spasm than a conscious effort. “After you came over I knew something was wrong. It’d been bothering me all day. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I got Lyra to put Pinchy to bed and went over to check on you. I found you back on your bed. You wouldn’t—”

Her voice gave out, unable to continue any further. For a moment I thought she might start crying all over again, but instead she just bowed her head for a minute. When she looked up to me again, her expression was unchanged though she had to wipe her eyes again.

“I think it finally clicked, you know? Bringing back some dumb thing you borrowed years ago. Making sure Pinchy would be out of the way. But I didn’t completely get it until you were leaving. You said you loved me.”

“I do,” I muttered simply. I wasn’t sure what she was getting at. What did she want from me?

Despite all the tears, despite her breathlessness, she actually managed a small smile. “I know. But you’d never said it before. And you called me Minuette, not Colgate. You were… saying goodbye, weren’t you?”

I just nodded. I guessed she was right. I hadn’t really thought about it at the time, but yeah. I’d only gone over there to make sure Pinchy wouldn’t be the one to find me, but it had been nice seeing her again. Should have figured I’d find a way to screw things up.

Colgate let out another sob, nearly loud enough I was afraid she’d wake up whoever else was in the room. She didn’t seem to care too much as she clapped a hoof over her mouth. Her chest heaved a few times. Finally she calmed and stood.

On soft hooves, she stepped closer. Her big blue eyes met mine as she leaned down inches away from my face. Up close I could see even clearer the damage I’d done to the only pony I called my friend. The mare that Pinchy loved more than me, and rightfully so. The one that was supposed to take care of my filly when I was gone.

She leaned close, her breath brushing across my mane before her lips touched my temple. She stayed too long, the warmth of her skin burned and I wanted it gone before I tainted her too. I had already taken too much, I couldn’t bear taking anymore. I wanted to throw up, push her away, anything to make the pain in my stomach stop. But my limbs wouldn’t work. They lay like useless lumps next to me.

“I love you too, Berry,” she whispered.

More than ever before I wanted to die. I wanted to take another half dozen pills or more, drink even more than I had. Anything to get away from her. I didn’t deserve her affection. I didn’t deserve her. I didn’t deserve Pinchy.

Why couldn’t she have just left me?

Her hoof took mine. Once again, my body refused to do what I told it to as I gripped her hoof in return.

“We’ll get you help, okay? I’ll be there every step of the way. I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time in years, something I thought could never happen again happened.

I started to cry.