White is all I see nowadays: the walls that surround me; encasing me in this prison, the door in which the nurses and medical personnel come and go, their white uniforms clashing with their colorful coats, and the dreaded sheets I lay on, teasing me into thinking I’m comfortable.

I’m not comfortable.

I’m practically going insane.

Beside me, is another me, staring at me with a bright smile. This other version is the spitting image of me, except better, upgraded, in her prime. She’d be one fine mare for any stallion.

Soarin was right, I do look better with my hair down.

I sigh, staring at me, wishing I was like her. She was free while I was not. She was unharmed while I was torn and bandaged. She was bright and charismatic, while I was a joke who was too depressed to even move a muscle. Whenever someone visited me, I’d just sit there and stare, unable to really speak.

I was a ghost, a zombie, an empty shell.

Tears begin to go down my cheeks, my once fiery fur now fading into a soft greyish orange. I couldn’t believe how I looked before: bright orange with a smile that could drop stallions to their knees. I was drop-down gorgeous.

Whenever they see me now, they wonder if I’ll ever make it to the next day.

“Spitfire,” my reflection says to me.

“What?” I croak out, my voice rough since I haven’t spoken to anypony in days.

“You need to stop being so depressed,” she says, her orange orbs gazing back at me, shimmering as moisture begins to collect near her eyelids.

“You don’t understand,” I say with a pained tone. “I’m done, my career is done!”

My reflection didn’t like the sound of this.

“Bullshit!” she says, her wings snapping to attention. “You’re the best leader this flying team has ever seen! You make your boss jealous whenever you give orders!” She gently walks over to the right of me, holding my grey hoof as she gently caresses it with care. “They need you, Spitfire.”

“No,” I say as I cough a bit, my lungs not agreeing with what I’m saying. “I-I’m down for the rest of the year and the doctor’s don’t know that I’ll ever fly again!”

My reflection’s eyebrows slant downward, her fiery gaze causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. “Do you really believe that?”

“Pardon?”

“I said, do you believe that?” The reflection said, putting her muzzle in front of her mine. “Because if you do, then you’ll stay like this forever.”

My eyes couldn’t go anymore wider at this point.

“W-what do you mean?” I ask while stuttering.

“You’re going to never fly again if you believe in that junk.”

“Junk!?” I react without thinking. “You’re not saying that the doctor is junk, are you?”

The reflection merely shakes her head as she stares at me. “He isn’t junk, but what he’s saying is.”

“Well…” I say, looking dejectedly at my body, the white covers concealing my wounds. “What do I believe, then?”

My reflection merely pulls away and clip clops over to the closed door, her eyes still upon mine as she trots away. “Believe in you,” she says with a quiet, calm tone. “And nopony else.”

With that, my reflection trots away, the door shutting swiftly behind her as her orange tail exits my line of sight.

“Believe in you…” I mumble. What does my reflection mean by believing in me?

Oh.

Oh…

I know what she means.

It’s like when I get ready for a show, sitting there in hopes of having another great performance. I always let myself go and believe in me, believe in my team, and believe in Equestria. Every single time I’m out there in the air is when I think of the safety of my team and I. One wrong move and the whole team could die.

It’s that serious.

“I know what I m-”

“Spitfire?” a familiar voice chimes in.

“Who is it?” I ask, my muzzle scrunching up in irritation.

“Who are you talking to?” the voice asks, his cyan coat and dark, royal blue mane entering my vision.

“Oh, nothing you dolt,” I reply, smiling like an idiot. “Nothing at all…” Next Chapter: Therapy Estimated time remaining: 14 Minutes