"[FR] Script"
By Thy_Carpenter (https://pastebin.com/u/Thy_Carpenter)

URL: https://pastebin.com/2dG2JySZ
Created on: Tuesday 24th of October 2017 09:31:51 PM CDT
Retrieved on: Friday 30 of October 2020 12:57:51 PM UTC


>It’s mid afternoon and here you sit in your living room recliner, staring at the wall in thought.
>You've had enough.
>Today is the day you finally man up and end this.
>You're going to her cottage.
>Out the door you go, grabbing your suit jacket as you leave.
>A ten minute walk later and you’re at the bottom of the hill your house sits at and one of Ponyville’s small bridges.
>The walk to the other side of the town is uneventful, though you’re sure somepony saw the direction you were headed in and started gossiping.
>It’s just the way things go.
>But not for long.
>The dirt path leads you over the crests of several hills before you see the streamside cottage at the bottom of the valley.
>As you march to it you wonder why you didn’t do this before.
>There’s not a single fiber of doubt in your body.
>You’re at the door and about to knock when you decide to change your tactics.
>A quick peek through the nearby window and you notice that she’s not in the main room, but her lamps are burning.
>Slowly you open the door and sneak inside, changing the way you step to be silent.
>Thankfully there aren’t any animals inside to alarm her of your presence, wherever she may be.
>There’s no plan to what you’re doing, but you know that when you see her you’ll know how to act and what to say.
>You trust your gut entirely on this one.
>The first floor is very open in its design and you don’t see her anywhere.
>With only a few light squeaks of the floorboards you sneak up the stairs and to the second floor hallway.
>Pausing, you listen to something that caught your ear.
>Light panting.
>It comes from the first door on the left.
>After coming to a stop in front of it, you place your ear to the door.
>The panting is definitely coming from this room, and it’s picking up in intensity.
>A part of you twitches as you know immediately what she’s doing in there, without a doubt thinking of you.
>Still, your outward composure doesn’t falter in the slightest and you slowly twist the knob.
>The hinges soundlessly swing as you step inside the bathroom.
>There lays Fluttershy in her empty bathtub, panting and mumbling.
>It takes you a second to notice the knife and slashes on her arms.
>You stop dead and involuntarily shudder a gasp as the door handle leaves your hand and slams shut.
>Fluttershy lets out an alarmed yelp and fumbles with the knife as her head snaps to you.
>Her eyes rapidly scan you and after a second she lets out the breath she was holding.
>She relaxes and calmly looks at the knife before setting it onto the soapbar holder.
“F-luttershy? What the fuck?”
>”I suppose it was about time this happened,” she holds her hooves before her and watches the blood drip down and onto her belly.
>You stumble a step back, arms reaching for the door handle behind you.
>”Stop. We need to talk,” she states plainly.
“W-what the fuck?!”
>Your right hand finds purchase on the door handle and you twist it.
>It doesn’t move.
>Panicked, you turn to face the door and try with all your might to twist.
>It doesn’t move.
>At all.
>”I’m not going to hurt you. We just need to talk.”
>Slowly you turn to face her, worried more than anything that she was right behind you with the knife.
>Instead she’s exactly where she was before in the tub.
>Reluctantly you start to approach her.
“Abo-” you cough hard as the word sticks in your throat, “A-about what?”
>”This. All of it.”
>As you near you see more and more of the crimson that stains her stomach.
>Its sickly metallic scent burns into your throat.
>”You want to know why I’m mutilating myself, of course. You might think it to be some sort of sick ritual to do with you. That’s where you’re wrong, and where you’re right.”
>She stares into nothingness as you stand within reach of her.
>”After all these years it’s only natural that you think this is some sort of sexual thing. It’s not. Have you ever stopped to notice how absurd I’ve become compared to what I was when I first met you?”
>She pauses for a minute as apprehension solidifies in the air.
>”It’s not natural, you know. That I latch onto you so strongly within a few days of meeting you. That everyone else is oblivious yet supportive of it is another abnormality.”
>She looks to you with emotions you can’t begin to decypher.
>”Have you ever questioned it? The things that couldn’t be any farther from sanity being playfully passed off by everyone else as some simple happenstance? The time I chased after you through town with a strap-on. The time I dragged you as you kicked and screamed for Twilight as she stood not ten feet away. All those times you woke up with a start believing you had died in your dreams.”
“What are you saying?”
>”It’s not real, Anonymous. Nothing about it is real. It can’t be. Every day it proves it cannot be and yet nobody notices except for me. And it’s all focused around you and I.”
>”I never wanted it to be like this. I don’t want you, Anonymous; I never did. All the times I’ve pursued you were because someone was making me do it. They were pulling the strings and I could only watch.”
>She picks the knife up again and gently traces it along her flesh.
>”I tried to stop it. I tried to tell Twilight, you, anyone. They didn’t hear me. They played it off as if I were stuttering the entire time; after all, that’s what I’m known for. Being shy.”
>”In all these years I’ve found nothing to make it stop. There’s not a single tome of knowledge that can help. No fix-all spell. Not even death could stop it.”
>She wipes the knife clean on a patch of unbloodied fur.
>”The first time I hung myself I immediately woke with a start. A nightmare, I told myself. After the third time I knew this was some sort of hell. I lost my mind for a while, and I… I killed you.”
“You- you killed me?” you creep back several feet, “I’m alive though!”
>”Those nightmares you had. Of all the times the script goes morbid.”
>You fall and slump against the wall as the memories of your dreams become reality.
“What the… what the fuck?” you whisper, “what the fuck?” you repeat, getting louder, “WHAT THE FUCK?!”
>You pull your legs to your chest and rock.
>A bloodied hoof rests on your shoulder and you look up and into her eyes.
>”There’s no end to this, Anonymous. Just misery and a blur of amnesia for everyone around me.”
“N-no! There’s got to be a way! Y-y-you didn’t look hard enough, there’s a way out of this!”
>You spring to your feet, destined on running to an exit you know exists but don’t know where.
>Slamming into it, the door holds tight as if it were made of stone.
>The window!
>On your way to it you pick up a metal wastebin and throw it at the glass pane.
>It bounces off with a light clatter.
>Outside is nothing but a white void.
>Something wells inside of you, stronger than the fear, stronger than the adrenalin, stronger than the-
“That’s it. The way out of it all.
>Your vision floats out of your body and behind you, watching yourself from several feet away.
>Anonymous turns to you.
>That wasn’t a mistake.
>He turns to you.
>”I’m not a puppet in your sadistic play.”
>”Do you hear me?”
>”I’M NOT YOUR FUCKING PUPP-”
>...
>...
>...
>...
>...
>...
>You groggily wake up with a hangover and slam your alarm before slumping off to complete your daily triple S.
>It’s nice to have a routine; some days you can’t think straight and just need an autopilot.