Forgotten Words

by starcoder

First published

The darkside won't leave her alone. Not even when she reads some forgotten words.

Starlight isn't feeling great, so she goes to Sire's Hollow for Hearth's Warming. She goes through a lot of old things in her old room. Including her diary.

She reads her old memoir and remembers what she truly used to be like. And hopefully, she's changed for the better.

Prologue

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A trip to Sire's Hollow. That's basically what Sunburst and I are going on. I sit on the train and stare at the snow drifting around outside the train car's window. It's falling gently and slowly, just like my spirits. Except that my spirits are probably fading, so it's not like they'll be falling. They'll be fading and, soon enough, gone. But if they were falling, it would be much, much faster. I don't feel like going on this trip.

It's not that I don't want to see Sire's Hollow, or Dad or even Sunburst's mom! It's just that I haven't been feeling great lately. And I'm not sick with a cold or a fever or anything like that. I'm just mentally sick. I want to be alone all of the time now, and I keep having thoughts. Bad thoughts, sad thoughts, mad thoughts. Evil thoughts. They come naturally to me now, and I'm scared that I'll become the pony I used to be. It's like I'm the same pony, but I'm not. I don't want to be mean, harmful, or dangerous. And I've been keeping everything to myself for a while now. I couldn't even explain myself to Twilight when she asked me how I was feeling earlier today.

Twilight suggested that I go spend Hearth's Warming Eve in Sire's Hollow this year. Which I think is tomorrow. And she told Sunburst to go with me, "just in case I need it." I don't really care, though. I think she just wants me to reconnect with my past. Maybe she thinks that will help me. Whatever. Like I said, I don't really care. About anything. Except maybe my friends and family. I don't want to hurt them, but these thoughts... they won't leave me alone. I so wish they would.

I must be lost in my thoughts again. It keeps happening. Mostly it's me fighting with the negativity drawn all over my brain. Or it's me crying and watching it all happen. Or it's me reflecting on all of this and wishing it didn't exist. Or it's me looking for a way out of the deep, dark tunnel but failing. I've failed a lot lately; I'm used to it. But either way, it doesn't get any easier. I always still feel like crying, like punching those thoughts. Wait, I can't abuse the thoughts or else I'm being mean. Even if they're thoughts.

Wait. I was lost in my thoughts about my thoughts, wasn't I? Why does this keep happening to me? Again and again?

I feel a lot of shaking going on, so I shake my head to clear the thoughts. I keep doing this. All I'm doing is blocking out the outside world, and these thoughts keep-

No. I need to stop. Where's that shaking coming from, anyways? Are my eyes closed? Yes, they are. I open them and see a blinding light, so I squeeze my eyes shut again. My ear twitches. What's that sound? A voice, saying something. Something, something starting with an S. S... s... st... Starlight! Someone is calling me?

A voice. Someone's voice? Who would want my attention? Sunburst. Sunburst, trying to get my attention. Oh my gosh, I've been avoiding him this whole train ride! He probably thinks I'm a terrible friend. I open my eyes, though I'm practically squinting. He's motioning towards the door. His mouth is moving, but I can't hear. These stupid thoughts. Wait, stupid? What am I saying? I used to be nicer-

Focus on hearing. Ignore the thoughts. Ignore the thoughts about the thoughts. Resist the urge to fight back. I open my eyes, which I guess I closed again, and focus on hearing his voice. Something, something, it's becoming clearer...

"Get... oft... rain!" I think he's yelling. To me, though, it's nothing but a blurry whisper. He does something. He rolls his eyes? He grabs me with his magic and runs out of the train car with me trailing behind him. Should I be more surprised? I have no idea what's going on, so I'd have to say more confused than surprised, actually. He's talking to me. Probably yelling at me. He's giving me a lecture, or something of the sort. Like I said, I don't care.

I want to hear him, but I can't. It's either the snowfall that's now a blizzard, or the fact that my thoughts are clogging up all my senses. I shake my head, point to my ears, and walk towards Dad's house. I don't know if Sunburst is following me. He probably is. He cares about me. He's a good friend in that way. But still, I don't care.

I open the door to Dad's house and turn around. Lucky guess, I guess. Sunburst is following me. He walks inside and pushes the door shut. While I sit down on the couch, Dad walks into the living room. He says something. His face is twisted with confusion. Sunburst says something back to him. Dad looks at me and walks closer to me. He extends his arm. He... he... he hugs me. I have to hug him back.

He's worried about me, isn't he? Just like Sunburst is. Just like Twilight is. I have good friends. I have good family. But my evil thoughts are blocking me from being a good friend. From being a good daughter. From being myself. If I can't freaking fight these thoughts off-

What the hay is my wording doing? What is my stupid, crazy mind doing? Why am I doing it again? Again and again? Why? Just. Freaking. WHY?

I don't even realize I'm crying. My face is soaked. But I don't feel it. My hooves are drenched, too, probably from covering my eyes. I don't even remember covering my eyes. Because I don't feel it. It's like I said: I'm blocked from all my senses. I only find out about my tears when Sunburst takes my hooves off my eyes and covers my face with a paper towel.

I put my hooves on the paper towel, holding it in place. It's not long before it saturates as well. I feel my body go limp. It's hard to support myself, especially with emotions. But I guess physically, too. I fall down to the couch and feel dead. Ouch. Did I just fall onto the ground? Oops. Well, that's too bad. I don't care.


I open my eyes, groan in a way that I can't hear, and find myself staring at an electric guitar. With horns and shaped like a bucking skull. Wait, did I just curse? In my mind? Maybe I shouldn't blame myself. It's so scary, I nearly scream. Actually, maybe I do. I still can't hear much. My thoughts are in the way again, so I can't describe anything I hear. Or anything I say.

I take a look at my old room. It's all a bit blurry, but I already know how it looks. Like it was owned by a filly who was obsessed with skulls and punk music. Crystals and magic. That was me back then. But this is me now, hating all of this stuff. other than magic and books, of course. And I do still keep a few crystals on my windowsill back at Twilight's castle.

I start to clean up this nightmare of a room. There's creepy posters and skulls everywhere. There is also, for some weird reason, an authentic eyeball on the ground near my book of basic magic. Wow, this room would be a perfect Haunted House. Too bad I came here for Hearth's Warming instead of Nightmare Night.

I find an old dresser and cram all the terrible stuff inside of it. I even rip off the skull of the backboard of my bed. I don't want reminders of a meaner me, especially when I'm trying to fight those terrible thoughts about mean me. I look at the dresser, which is overflowing with junk. I should do something about it. So I do. I teleport them, far, far away from here.

I take down the ugly posters and start to rip them apart. But luckily, I can stop myself in time. Instead of ripping the... the akward posters, I crumple them up into a ball and throw them into the trash can. That seems less like torture.

I keep the crystals, but move them from the shelf to the dresser, where it seems neater. I pick up the books that are strewn all across the ground and place them on the shelf. My room looks cleaner already. I smile, which is rare for me these days. I hear a knock on the door, then it opens, and Sunburst peers through the crack in the door. I think he sees me smiling, because he smiles, too. He brings in a plate of food and leaves it on my dresser. He must've known I wanted to be alone. He's really considerate in that way.

I look at the breakfast, which I don't want to eat yet. Maybe later. I hop onto the bed, and lay down. I've lost track of time already, so I have no idea if I'm spending Hearth's Warming alone. Is today even Hearth's Warming? Whatever. I don't care, and today, it's in a good way.

My head touches something hard the instant I put my head down. "Ow!" I say. And I mean say. I can hear again, even though it sounds smudged and messy. It's either my voice or the fact that I can't hear straight. But even more surprisingly, I haven't talked for the past day. I wouldn't expect to make a sound, not even a tiny one like this, after a whole day or two of silence. But I do know this: My voice is back. My spirits are rising. My spirits are reappearing. But very slowly, so much slower than the light snowfall the other day. It was yesterday, I think. I'm not feeling too great.

I lift up the pillow and pull out a very, very, very dusty book. I shake the books a few times, releasing all the dust, making myself cough. When the dust clears, I open it to the first page. It's horn written. In a language I can barely understand. Wait, no, this is Ponish, alright. Just very, very bad hornwriting. About as bad as...

My hornwriting! I wrote this book, and hid it under my pillow before I ran away from home. I skim the first paragraph on the page. This is... a diary. My diary. What was I thinking back then? Do I want to know? Probably not. But still, I can't resist the urge to open the book up and find out what my cute little self was thinking. I go back to the beginning of the page and hope it has something I want to know. Here goes...

Page 1

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September 3rd

My teacher says that I should keep a diary. So here it is. Here you are? Should I use second pony pronouns? She says a diary is basically somewhere I can write my thoughts, like a friend that listens to me. But it also doesn't talk back to me. What's the point in that? I love a good conversation, and if I can't have one, that just sucks.

Besides, I don't have much thought. What am I supposed to write about? Teacher says my life. Anything that troubles me. I'll take that stupid suggestion, actually. Get ready:

What the hay is this supposed to do? How is this supposed to help me get over my troubles? Like literally?

Oh wait. You can't answer that.

BECAUSE YOU'RE A LITERAL BOOK!!!

Why am I using second pony pronouns? Does it make me sound weird, as if I'm talking to an unresponsive notebook?

I will barely ever use this. This. Freaking. JOURNAL. Maybe it can be a catalog of some of the great events in life. For now. Maybe I should write an autobiography based off of this one book. Wouldn't that be crazy?

One day, when I grow older, I'll probably have dumped this already. But if I haven't, I know I'll never forget about this weird damn notebook that found it's way to my life. Then, and only then, will I write an autobiography of my childish life. This stupid world, this dumb life. Why? Don't ask me. I never wanted an agenda anyways.

Hey, older self, if you are currently reading this, just stop. Dump this idiotic garbage in the trash. And don't think you were stupid. Even though you really were. Don't read your foolish words. Like, ever again. If I have more pages with writing on them, you probably feel tempted to read them. Go ahead, I'm not stopping you. I was probably tempted to keep on writing. I must have a reason, since I'm not stupid. Oh wait. Yes I am.

Am I weird for writing in this? Yeah, I am. Just ditch this silly book already.

Page 2

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November 19

Dear Diary,

I made a friend today! My first friend ever! Please note that the akward way to start this entry was a result of my teacher explaining how to write a letter. And her suggesting that our diaries have this touch, as well. She really doesn't want to give up on this whole diary thing. (Facehoof)

My friend. He is my best friend. He loves magic just like me. And he knows so much about it. It's clear he's not great at casting spells right away, not the way I am. But I don't know much about magic. I was barely interested, if I have to be honest. And now, it's a subject I want to know EVERYTHING about.

His name is Sunburst.

We met in class today. We were science partners, and he explained how chemical tranisfiguration was possible with just the right amount of magic. Just trigger the right amount of... I can't remember. I'm not very interested in all the stuff. I just like the sensation of casting a powerful spell. And getting it right. He says he can't do magic my level. I didn't even know I could do magic my level. I never tried it before. I told him it was just beginner's luck.

It's kind of a shame I never paid much attention to him before. I mean, he was very timid. Everypony ignored him.

But we're friends now, and that's all that matters. Even though my dumb classmates think we're weird for being so... so... different. They're seperated from what connects us, the true friendship between us. They don't care. But I do. I never experienced friendship before, but now I know it's a great sensation. I love it.

Sincerely,
Starlight Glimmer



Yes, that was a cringy way to end this irrelevant "letter." I'm still talking to a book, aren't I? Older Starlight, please note how this was written by a little moron like me, your filly self. Thank you. I should probably SHUT UP. Like, right now.

Page 3

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February 9

Today was fun! Sunburst and I went to an amusment park for my birthday today. Yeah, Dad came too, for supervision, I guess.

We went on a bunch of cool rides, but I'd have to say my favorite was the water roller coaster thingy. It felt like I was flying. I LOVE flying things. And flying on my own is fun, too. You get a sense that you're watching over the world. But not only that, it was a water roller coaster. We get wet a lot, like buckets of water pour down on us while we zoom around. I loved it. I'm not sure if Sunburst did, though.

We had strawberry flavored cupcakes and apple juice. I love apple juice, and strawberries. I drink apple juice, like, all of the time. And, I kind of like the idea of cupcakes instead of cake, because it's smaller and there won't be any leftovers.

I got great birthday presents. Sunburst gave me a magic book. A bit advanced, but nothing I can't handle. I do love a good challenge, and I can't get over the satisfaction of energy bursting through my horn. Makes me feel great. Makes me feel powerful. Dad gave me a kite. He know how much I like the air. I like the wind in my face, my hair blowing in the wind, riding with the wind. Looking down at the world. He gave me a kite today. It's looking down at me.

Today was fun. Today was great. I can't wait for Sunburst's birthday. I should start on his present soon. His birthday's in a few months, after all.

- Starlight Glimmer the filly


I'm not starting the page with a cringy letter anymore. Blech. I do hope you understand.

And... I'm being nice to a book again. Gross.

Page 4

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June 24

Today was Sunburst's birthday. I've been waiting for today since my birthday. As I expected, today was really, really fun. It was sort of like my birthday. But instead of going to an amusment park, we went to a carnival. There were a lot of games. I won most of the ones we went to, and Sunburst won a few more than half the amount I did. We split the prizes equally, though I snuck him a few more than me. It's his birthday. He needs a plushie pile. I mean, not really, but it's his birthday.

I got him a magic book, just like he got for me. Except I gave him a Simplifying Spells book instead. He can't cast powerful stuff the way I can. So I thought he might want to join in on the fun by simplifying some of the advanced spells. His mom gave him a cloak. And a big one, at that. I don't know what he would need a cloak for, maybe if he wants to become a wizard one day. That would be hilarious.

We had mango cupcakes, and I saved one for Dad. I think he likes cupcakes, too. We also had apple juice, the way we did on my birthday. Today was great.

- Starlight Glimmer the filly


Do I still need to write my name? Doesn't everyone know this is mine by now?

Page 5

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August 25

Dear Dairy,

I... I freaking thought... thought it was real...

Sorry. Sory? Apologize to this bok? What ever. You need an explantion either vvay. You? Am I gong crazy?

He's gone. I thought our friendship was true. I thought he cared. I thought... I thought...

I hate friend ships. i hate them so much They hurt u more than they bring you happyness. Thats what I need to hear when I first met Sunburst. To late.

I hate cute makrs. hate them so much. Those little tattos that cover up you're blank flank. They hurt as much as frendships do. They take way the sense that you are equal. They giv you the sense that you mite be better than sompony else. That's basicly wat happened to me with Sunburst. That's what I needed to know befor I longed for a cute mark. two late.

Sincerly.

little me.


At this point, I m talking more to future me than the dairy. I'm going to assume thta futrue me is reading this and Thse words aren't for nothing, nothing at all.

My hrnwriting was terible as crap. As was my my spelling and gramar. I cannnot think strait. Forgive me. Can you even read this page? My tears have probably stained it all.

Plese help me...

Page 6

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October 10

I. Got. My. Bucking. CUTIE MARK.

Any normal filly would be thrilled. They would want to have their CuteceaƱera. They would want to show the whole world their special talent. Oh, I'm no "normal filly."

I HATE CUTIE MARKS!!!

Imagine this:
The one thing you hate, stuck to you forever.

It's bad. Really bad.

Page 7

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I am running away from the following:

I don't need them anymore. I want a better life, maybe where I can be the best and where friendships can't hurt me anymore. I will make sure to acheive my dream one day. It will happen. I know it.

Goodbye. This is my last entry. I am no longer a resident of Sire's Hollow. I am a runaway. And you can't stop me from reaching my goal. From getting what I want. You can't stop me. I am gone.

You know who I am.

Epilogue

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I wear a face full of confusion. I flipp through the book over and over again. Was I missing any pages? I probably wasn't. Writing in this journal must have been rare for me, seeing as how there were only seven pages. And such big gaps between each date on the pages.

My face isn't only twisted with confusion. Sorrow and regret are drawn all over, as well. I don't want to come off as mean or harsh or self-absorbed, but that's exactly how I sound in here. I look back to my first page and wince at my word choice. Freaking. Damn. Was I really that mean back then? I don't remember any of it. Other than a few good memories with Sunburst and some embarassing moments with Dad, I can't remember much about my past. Not even reading this diary brings back memories. Those memories were lost a while back, hidden away somewhere. And maybe even, at some point, erased.

I feel tears well up in my eyes. And I mean feel. I can feel the moisture, and the heaviness pushing down on my eyes as I try to hold the teardrops in. But it's nothing compared to the heaviness in my chest. I was cruel as a kid, even more cruel as I grew up. There's no denying it; this journal has the proof.

One thing I have realized, though, is that I love friendships. No matter how much I refused to admit it, I still loved friends. It softened my heart and made me happy. On the pages that talk about my friendship with Sunburst, I wasn't using mean words. And when he left, I was in a terrible state. Back then, I never wanted to admit it, but I needed friends. They were my lifeline. Just look what I did without them!

I smiled a shaky smile knowing that I wasn't a complete loss. I was mean, but I had a soft spot for sure. I lie back down on the bed I was sitting on, hugging the book and closing my eyes. I hear another knock on my door and turn over in my bed to see Sunburst. He says something. He's asking me something. "Do you want to come celebrate with us?"

It's confirmed: I can hear again.

I eye my cold, uneaten breakfast, then my gaze shifts to the dusty book in my hooves. I nod and open my mouth to say something. It comes out very shakily, but it's clear enough. "I'll catch up with you."

He grins and nods, closing the door. I hear him walk away and I look back at my diary. I grab a quill, dip it in ink, and turn to page eight in the chronicle. I have one last thing to say. There's space for one more entry


December 25

Dear Diary,

This is older Starlight Glimmer. I'm no filly anymore. I've looked back at the other pages. And I can't deny it: I was mean. But not anymore. I want to change, and even if I haven't, I want to. I think that's good enough for me.

Twilight Sparkle helped me change my perspective in the world. I owe her my life.

Sunburst was my first friend. I owe him my kindness.

To all the friends who have helped me for the better, thank you. I am better now, and I want to make up for my past mistakes. I am better now.

Sincerely,
Starlight Glimmer, age 21


I smile and close the book. I hope that my log was enough to make up for my cruelty in the past. I hop off my bed in satisfaction. Now, now I can join Dad and Sunburst for Hearth's Warming Eve. I look back at the diary and turn back to page three. I was eager to make presents for them. I was kind back then, but I was mixed with rudeness. Wait, presents? Presents! I still need gifts for Dad and Sunburst!

I rip two pages from my diary and draw two pictures. A bird on each slip of paper. A phoenix. It represents immortality. It represents recurrence. A chance at redemption. That's what I got. My spirit is like a phoenix. I bite my lip, hoping the gifts will be enough. I take a deep breath and step outside my room. I'm ready to face the world now.


I feel a big jump and sit up. I hear a lot of noise outside. Where am I? I look down at the train car's bed and remember. I'm in a train, heading back to Ponyville. I faced the world already, and I'm done. I lie back down but can't fall asleep. So I sit up again and look at the gifts Sunburst and Dad got me. A book of Starswirl's most known complex spells. A kite that matches my cutie mark. They're great compared to my lame drawings. And, they're similar to the presents I got for my birthday when I was a little filly.

I remember the diary back at Sire's Hollow. Wait, no. I brought it on the train with me. I take it out and clutch it, staring at the snow outside my window. It's falling, slowly and softly. Just like my spirits. This trip wasn't a total bust, but I still don't feel great. I'll get better later, though. I sure hope I'll be fine.

I have good friends, good family. I don't want to hurt them. But is just that thought enough?