Block it out, please, she begged to no avail. Through the tears streaming down her face, she couldn't see much, but she didn't need to have her vision on her side to see that a tissue was being outstretched to her. Pinkie wanted to push the hoof away so bad. But she couldn't Her already broken part was torn into further pieces as she tried to deal with the scene in front of her. The counsellor waited for her crying to stop. She waited patiently and silently. But all the words she wanted to hurt the counsellor with were stuck behind her teeth.

She prayed for her life to end. There are a million wonderful ways to do it, all better than being her and being alive.

Her tears slowed down and she regained her vision. She hated it. She hated the fact she couldn't be strong enough. She hated that her friends found out. She hated that she couldn't take back the words she said to them admitting she cut herself, she hated the tears that accompanied those words, and she hated that telling them got her there in that stupid chair.

"Are you feeling better?" The counsellor stupidly asked.

"Yes." Pinkie lied. What was the point of the truth? The counsellor couldn't help. No one can.

The counsellor went on to suggest a dozen more ways to release stress and tension besides cutting and Pinkie went on to lie through her teeth a dozen more times that yes, she would try them and yes, they should work. Because tearing pieces of paper was as good as the exhilaration of bleeding and pain. As if.

"Try it!" The counsellor urged encouragingly as she took out a piece of paper for Pinkie to tear.

Effortlessly, the paper was split into two.

The counsellor paused, and then gave Pinkie 12 more sheets of paper.

"Tear them all at once." She said, smiling.

Pinkie wanted to cry, but the hopelessness in her demanded her eyes to be dry.

She tried a little, but the paper stayed together. She got angry, and the 12 pieces became 24. It did nothing to help, but the counsellor seemed pleased with herself.

Pinkie Pie was let out at last, and no sooner did she manage to get into a toilet did the tears come out again. She felt the knife in her pocket, however, and immediately sobered up.

Minutes later, she was bleeding and in so much pain. But more than that, so very much more than any and all of that, she was smiling and laughing.

Just like Pinkie Pie would.