Author's Notes:

Hopefully by the time you read this, it will be Christmas, as is the plan to publish chapter.

Hey guys, sorry for not being around much. Been through some stuff. Not too important and I know nothing I say will excuse my absence. Nonetheless, this chapter is gonna be really fucking long with some fucked up scenes in it. I don't know if it'll be so long as to make it redundant, but if it is, I'm sorry.

Id like to think that I've improved my writing style, so this chapter and the rest of the story will be more or less in this style. So it might be better that my other chapters, it might not. I'll let you guys decide.

Again, sorry that I have been away for so long, hopefully it'll no longer happen. Btw, by the time this chapter goes up, I'll have two to three chapters ready to go, which will be more or less uploaded a week after this one...hopefully..... Oh yeah, sorry if there are any inconsistencies that pop up in future chapters relating to the timeline of this story.

As always, let me know if you spot any errors that I may have missed. =)

“Tsk, fuck that hurts.” I muttered to myself as i repurposed my power to fuse the wounds close, emitting small puffs of steam. To be honest, I didn't think it would work, definitely remembering to do that. Luckily they weren't too deep, but they sure as fuck stung, like lots of little paper cuts. I rolled my shoulder around a few times, easing any strain it might have. 'Why?’ I was drained from the cartoonish stupidity that BlueBlood displayed. 'Why is it always me who has to deal with bullshit.’ My bandages felt tight around my wrists as I trudged back into the ballroom, wearing my emotions clear on my sleeves, or however that saying went. I suppose that's why no one said anything, hell even my friends didn't say anything. Well, apart from Flutters as she rather walked quickly towards me, her dress hindering her movements.

“Silver!” She shouted as she wrapped me up in her arms, holding me tightly. She was warm, a kinda warmth that I could get lost in. The scent from her mane filled my lungs. I weakly hugged her back, struggling to hold myself back from just exploding in a mess of agony. I knew I wasn't ready for this, I did my best to push myself and break out of my comfort zone, whilst simultaneously hiding behind a broken mask. What a fucking mistake.

“I'm gonna go for a walk, Flutters. Join me if you want.” I, reluctantly peeled myself away from her and walked out of ballroom, my head hung low, a shadow hiding my eyes from view. I heard her hoof steps quietly tap behind me, not saying a word. We passed princess Celestia on our way down the carpeted stairs. She gave us a stare that I couldn't quite pinpoint, but at this point I could hardly care. Soon enough, we found ourselves in front of the maze entrance, judging by the noises that Fluttershy made, she wanted to talk about something.

“You should talk to her, Silver.” Steve said, walking out from a marble bust of somepony. “She knows something is up with you, you're usually carefree, and making joke all the time, the fact that you haven't said anything is killing her.” I didn't say anything, just pressed on into the maze. I already look insane to my friends, I don't need to start talking to ghosts in front of them.

After many twists and turns and more than getting lost twice, we found a small clearing with a lake that reflected the shimmering moon in all its glory. A large, old, tree grew beside the lake, it's roots bursting out of soil and snaking its way into the water. A slight breeze rustled the leaves and disturbed the water. A mahogany bench overlooked the lake and lone tree and with a sigh I sat down on one end, while my companion took the other. For some time we just watched the lake as thought ran a mile per second in my mind, wonder why she, basically, saved my life that day. I rubbed the bandages that began to grow heavy, as if they were chains that were burned into my skin. However instead of blades at either end like kratos, they were heavy, cannonball like weights that dragged against the dirt.

The pistol that was strapped to my thigh poked against my skin, and for a moment, just for a brief moment, I thought about ending it then and there. But why? Why do I want to die so badly? Faces flashed in my head, Steve, James, my first foster-father and countless others that I couldn't even remember. Everyone I've ever made friends with, every person that I hated and everyone that I've pushed away. I've hurt so many people by doing this same, recurring thing.

“Why do you care about me so much, Flutters?” I slowly turned my head to see her, my dead eyes reflected off of her bright, concerned ones. “You've heard what I've done, you've seen what I'm like, and yet you still think of me as your friend. I'm just a demon, both literally and figuratively. I jump from one emotion to another in a blink of an eye like a badly written character in a fanfiction, and that's without being on my period. How can you put up with me?” She didn't say anything, her eyes tearing up. “I'm a piece of shit and now everypony knows it!” A firm, stinging slap shut me up, leaving a burning handprint on my cheek.

“Shut up.” She said, her voice barren, holding back her tears to the best as they pooled in the corners of her eyes. She stared daggers into me as she trembled, her hands balled into fists. “Why must you berate yourself like this!” She swallowed, staring directly into my eyes.

“I'm a monster, Flutters!” I stood up, glaring at her as my bottled up anger and hate and so many other emotions popped the cork like a fizzed up champagne bottle. “I've murdered someone. I've used people, whether or not I meant to do it! Everypony hates me, despises me so since they found out what I did! They don't say it outright but I can tell!” I fell to my knees, tears dripping freely from my eyes as I sobbed. “If they think of me like this now, how will they react when they find out I'm a demon?” I asked rhetorically, pressing my head into the cold dirt. Gently she stood up and knelt down pulling me into a hug, resting my head against her cleavage.
“I can't begin to understand what you have been through to make you so unhappy in life. But I want to, so please, tell me. I want to help you, even if Im only a bandage holding back a leak. Please.” She whispered softly, as she hugged me. For the first time in forever, I told her what I've only told Steve, James and the only person I'd only ever call my real father.

“Alright, let me start off by saying that my father was anything but a nice person, no matter what he said otherwise…”

“Come on, Jane!” Steve shouted, pulling me along as he held my hand tightly. We were both around the age of seven, give or take a few months. I was wearing a yellow sundress with white, fluffy frills that ended at my knees. My yellow sandals tapped against the stone pavement. Steve wore a red T-shirt with sandy coloured shorts and white trainers with ankle high socks.

“Will you slow down!” I gasped, trying my best to keep up with him as I tripped over nothing. “I'm gonna fall!” He sighed and slowed down, letting me catch my breath but not letting me stop. “What's even going on!”

“Ah-ah, that's a surprise!” He looked back at me, his blue eyes sparkled with joy as he pushed his hair out of his face. “Now come on! Or Eddie'll be mad!” Grumbling slightly, I shut up, letting him pull me along as I still struggled to keep up. Look athletics wasn't my strong suit, especially at that age. Still, I did my best. Eventually the stone buildings of the city that surrounded us like a maze was slowly replaced with trees and bushes. The orphanage was in a meadow like area along the outskirts of city, the people who planned it thought that it would be a good area to raise kids in. Anyway, we turned off of the pavement and walked down the dirt path, small stones digging into my feet.

Being in the middle of summer, the trees and flowers were in full bloom, filling the air with their sweet smells, something I loved to breath in around those times. The path was lined with ripe strawberry bushes, red berries stood out brightly against the green leaves, I couldn't help but pick one and scarf it down, letting my tongue bathe in the sweet juices. Harvest time, another reason I love summer. In the distance I could see the orphanage, the wood and stone structure sticking out like a sore thumb. It was one of the more classic style orphanage's, you know the ones, small and out of the way, church like with a bell at the top. The roof was painted a deep shade of blue, while the walls were painted a pale green. In my opinion, the colours didn't compliment each other very well. A sign hung above the porch with faded colours saying 'Eddies orphanage’, it was simple, but effective enough I'd say.

Three huge trees, and I mean fucking huge ones, stood out in front of the building with different shades of sheets tied to them by string and held up by a grey pole sticking out the centre of it, creating a circus tent shape. A sign impaled the ground in front of the opening depicting its name, to which I proudly named it 'The Bat Cave.’ Getting off track. Anyway, we built it a year ago, thinking it would be a safe place for future generations of orphan's, if any, so that they wouldn't be afraid. A smile formed on my tiny face as I remembered building with James and Steve.

As we neared the entrance, Steve let go of my hand and rushed on ahead without me, crashing through the door and falling on his face. 'Klutz’ I thought with a sigh, shaking my head as I wiped my hands from the sweat that had formed. Eddie walked out a few seconds later, his tinted shades reflecting the sunlight that managed to get through the canopy, and grabbed him with a headlock, grinding his knuckles against his head, Steve's wails of anguish was music to my ears.

“How many times have I told you to stop that, you little turd!” Eddie shouted as he glared at him. “This is your home! Treat it with respect!” After a few more moments of painful grinding, he let Steve go as he shifted his shades to the crown of his head, straightening the white thing in his collar and letting his cold eyes glare at him, softening immensely as he turned to me. “Heya, kiddo!” He said with a wave, to which I waved back. He wore a...black suit. I don't know how else to describe it properly, a cross hung from his neck.

“Hey, dad!” I said, finally reaching the two of them. “Now what's going on? This dummy dragged me out for this, so it better be important, cause he didn't tell me anything.” I pouted, as he smiled and rubbed my head. I always hated him when he did that, just because I looked cute when I pouted.

“You'll see little one. Steve, do me a favour and find James, he'll need to be here.” He said, scratching his grey, stubble beard. With a muffled grumble, he walked back down the dirt path. Once out of sight, Edd placed a hand to my back and gently guided me down the hallway with that same fucking smile that he always had. On the left side of the hallway, strait after entering the building, was a set of stairs that lead to the bedrooms, a doorway under said stairs led to a cupboard that i would sometimes hide in to scare others. On the left side of the hallway were rows and rows of different photos of other kids that lived with us, both younger and older. A slightly withered, ajar door let light stream through its opening, revealing a laundry room, filled with a few washing machines and dryers. I remember my first time on laundry duty. The smell was disgusting, I almost threw up. It's like some of the orphans don't even wash themselves.

Ugh.

Edd lead me through the main communal area, where a few of the older kids waved and greated us. The area wasn't all that interesting, just a few tables where we'd eat our food n shit, three large couches sat at the far area facing a large TV and gaming consoles. The communal area was separated from the kitchen by a island countertop. I don't think I need to describe what a kitchen is, do I? I followed Edd to a side door just past the kitchen, his office. He strolled In confidently as he opened the door, revealing his office.

Nothing stood out of the ordinary. A large wooden u-shaped desk sat nearly against the far wall, a crystal clear window framed the black leather chair. A potted bushel of pink flowers rested next to a smart looking computer as well as the back of a photo frame. To the left of me held lots of containers and cupboards that no doubt had important documents of some sort. To the right were two cushioned couches with glass table separating the two from each other. The room was painted a rich mint-chocolate colour, in hindsight is should have begun with that, but fuck it.

The only proper difference was that there was a man that I never knew before sitting on the couch, sipping at a cup of coffee, judging from the strong, bitter smell. Instantly, my shyness flared and I hid behind the frame of the door as Edd walked in. The man turned to the opening, giving me a gentle, sweet smile and waved. Ugh, that almost made me vomit. I'm not like it now, but I'd never really liked meeting new people, I'd always hide behind a friend or an object. I guess you could've called me a younger Fluttershy.

The man had a light, tan-ish skin colour with super deep-green eyes, framed by a pair of jet black glasses. His dirty blond hair was done up in a ponytail that reached past his shoulders. He scratched his beard, somewhat similar to Eddie's but a bit thicker, twirling locks of the stuff like a schoolgirl would do with their hair. He wore an autumn styled t-shirt with a thin beige shirt over it with its collar turned up, his sleeves were rolled up,leaving his arms bare. A green and red snake tattoo wrapped around his forearm, disappearing underneath the rolled up sleeve. He wore simple, blue denim jeans that were faded around the kneecaps. He had rather smart looking trainers that looked very expensive.

I retreated back further behind the door frame, bumping against a set of drawers that I forgot about and spooking the shit out of myself, making me fall flat on my ass. A hearty chuckle escaped the man's throat, causing my face to reddened deeply, trying my best to hide behind my hair.

“Well, you're a bit of a clumsy one aren't you?” He spoke with a thick, molasses like voice, kinda like a white Morgan Freeman. “If a sweetheart like you falls like that a lot, I'd oughta fully pad my entire house.” He laughed, showing off his white, sparkly teeth. 'Wait, what does he mean by that?’ Eddie lifted me it slightly. “It's good to meet you, princess.” He said, looking directly into my eyes. I that point I could only mumble incoherently.

“It seems you two are getting along fine.” Edd said with a giddy laugh as he patted my head. “Michael here is looking to adopt someone. He's looked through the files and interviewed a few children already, and you're the last.” I didn't meet either of their gazes, still coming to terms that I actually might get adopted. “Forgive her, she gets really shy around new people.” Edd looked down at me, mirth in his eyes. “He's going to ask a few questions now, alright? Then you can ask a few of your own.” He said gently, trying to coax me out of the shell that I created around myself. It worked, a little.

“What's your name, sweetie?” Was his first question, eyeing me like one would do a newborn pup.

“J-jane. Jane Whelan, Mister.” I said, poking my fingertips together.

“Please, call me Michael. What's your favourite colour? Mines red.”

“Oh, uhhhm, blue! My favourite colour is blue!” a bit of excitement filled my voice as I got a little used to him.

“Ooh, I like blue too, though I'd say it's my third favourite.” He rubbed his chin as thought up more questions. “I love the colour of your eyes, is it natural? If I may ask?”

“Mm! Yeah! I've had silver eyes since I was born, or at least it was when I first got here. I've been bullied because of them though.” The thought of those children making fun of me made me sad, both Edd and Michael saw it and made a move to comfort me, with Edd rubbing my head and Michael holding my shoulder.

“You should never be ashamed of your eyes, my dear. They are a gift from God himself.” Edd said offering me a smile, lifting my spirits up quite a bit.

“What is the most disgusting thing you can think of?” Was the next question after I was feeling better.

“Laundry day.” I simply said, shivering in disgust. He let out another throaty laugh, which I joined in with my own little giggle.

“I feel the same way. Last question, If you could invent one law, what would it be?” I thought deeply about this, there are so many things a normal child would say, like all children get free chocolate or ice cream, any time they want, unlike my dumass self who said….

“Free boops for everyone.” I said it with such fucking confidence as well. It made everyone in the room laugh, and I would be a liar if I didn't say it brought a smile to myself.

“That's the most adorable thing i've ever heard.” I scowled and pouted at him, which made him laugh even harder. “What-, what about you my dear? Any questions you'd ask of me?” I place a finger under my lip as I thought.

“Uhhhhhm, are you married?” I tilted my head as I asked.

“Unfortunately no, I'm unmarried, however, I do have a dog that loves me. And I know she'll love you too.” My eyes lit up at the thought of having a dog. The orphanage was never allowed pets other than fish. For some reason.

“Ooh, I love dogs! What's your favourite thing to do?” He hummed as his eyes darted back and forth. He clicked his fingers and leaned In close.

“I'd say playing video games.” He said with a wink. “Which reminds me, I probably have to buy a few more for children.” So far, he's ticked all my requirements for a father.

“Uhhm, if you do chose to adopt me, will is still get to see my friends?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course you'll get to see your friends. Do you expect me to be a monster that'll keep you locked away or something?” Teh, understatement of the fucking century you prick.

“Oh, okay. I'm sorry. Well, you've met all my requirements to be my father.” I said proudly, flashing a big grin.

“Oh, have I now, squirt? Well then, so much for being shy among strangers huh?” I only grinned as an answer.

“You better hold your horses there kiddo, he'll have to think over it for a day or two before deciding who to adopt. Go on, skedaddle. I have a few more questions to ask.”

With a nod, I pretty much sprint out of the room, exited all of a sudden. As I shut the door, I bump into my two best friends, knocking them, along with me, onto the floor. With me landing on top of Steve. With a deadpan stare, he leaned up, forcing me to fall backwards onto my ass as he got up. With a smirk he gave me his hand and pulled me, along with James, up.

“So did you meet him!?” Steve said holding onto my hands and raising to his chest.

“Yeah! I can't believe I might get adopted. I've never felt so happy before!” I squeed liked a dog toy, which stopped me in my tracks and made my blush return with vengeance. Steve laughed and booped my nose.

“Come on, then! Let's go to the ice cream shop for a celebration!” He let go of one of my hand and pulled me out of the front door with James in tow.

“Sweet! Cotton candy flavour for me!”

“Oh come on! I was just there!” James shouted as he chased us, trying to keep up.

The days leading up to my adopted never really changed anything, to be honest. Everyone was happy for me, I was happy, I would finally have a father, something that my family lacked, well other than Eddie. Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah! As I said, nothing changed in the orphanage apart from the visits from Michael, and getting to know him. Turns out he lives in the inner suburbs along a quiet road, his closest neighbour was around half a mile away, so the traffic was mostly sparse with the occasional bus of cyclist every now and then. His house itself, from what I've seen was, well, classic to say the least, a front and back yard with a dog house in the latter surroundings by a white picket fence. Sounds like the dream home anyone would want. Right?

“Alright, kiddo. You ready?” Michael asked as he leaned against his car, his arms crossed. I nodded and put the last of my bags into the backseat. My two best friends and Eddie waited by the side on the pavement as I finished. We stared at each other for mere moments before I full on sprinted towards the three, pulling them all in a hug.

“I'm gonna miss you guys!” I hugged them tighter, enjoying them for a few more moments.

“We're gonna miss you too, Silver!” James said, as a tears pooled in his eyes. 'Silver?’

“Wait, what did you call me?” That was the first time he called me that. The first time that anyone called me that.

“Silver. I thought of it last night. I've made everyone a nickname apart from you, sooo.”

“Sooo, you used my eye colour?”

“It was the first thing that came to mind, leave me be!!” I giggled as he became flustered and embarrassed. A gentle head pat cut my giggles short, I pouted and glared at the person who did the evil deed. Cause him to breakout in laughter.

“Sorry Jane.” Eddie said in between laughs. “I had to do it one more time before you left. Never know the next chance I'll get to do it again.” I pulled from the hug in a joking huff, doing my best to hide my smile. The car started, revving the engine, indicating that it's time to go. With a final hug, I ran towards the car, opening the passengers door and getting in. I rolled down the window and waved to the for the final time.

“I'll see you guys later!” I shouted as we drove off, smiling as Eddie wiped the tears from his eyes.

[Warning: from here on out it will become increasingly dark and fucked up. In fact, I might even have to change the story rating because of this. I'll leave the ending of this segment in bold if you want to skip, however it is an important part of her back story.]

The ride there was... silent, even though the radio was playing smooth jazz. It was unnervingly silent, as if you told a bad joke and no one laughs, suspending you in an awkward pause. The air in the car was thick, pressing down on me like the bottom of the sea on a tin can. Every time I looked at Michael, a shiver ran down my body, it was like...he was a completely different person from before. For some strange reason, I didn't dare speak. Don't know why, I just, couldn't. Like I was scared.

It's a strange thing. Children are able to tell when something's not right, sorta like a sixth sense. It was what I was feeling, like I wasn't safe. However, my naive self just shrugged it off and blamed it on being my nerves. After all, I was just adopted.As we pulled up to his home, I noticed how different it looked in the setting sun. It took on a more... sinister vibe in the darkness.

“Out.” Michael spoke in a commanding, monotone voice. It was such a change from his regular tone that I actually jumped in fright. Michael got out of his side of the car and slammed the door shut, doing the same to mine as I stepped out, almost catching my heels in the door frame. “Get your shit in the house by yourself and wait in the living room.”

I nodded silently, stunned from his use of vulgar language. As you could probably tell, I've never heard a swear word before in my life. Growing up with a Christian who abstains from swearing does that to you.

“Well, hurry the fuck up!” Eeping from his words, I quickly open the back seat and pull out my bags, struggling to carry them all from the weight. I had about three in total, a bag that was held on my back had most of my clothes and toys. In my hands were the rest of my clothes other things. I can't remember what was in them, it's been years since then. As was walking towards the door, trying my best to keep myself up, a foot shaped force pushed me from behind, forcing me down onto the cold stone pathway, my stuff scattering all over the front yard. “I said hurry up God fucking damnit! God you're so fucking slow. I guess you're eyes aren't the only thing that's fucked up, huh, you freak?”

I turned back to look at him, flinching from the furious glare in his eyes. His face contorted with anger and disgust as he strolled over to me, grabbing my ponytail and tugging tightly, pulling me onto my feet. The sharp pain from the tug brought tears to my eyes as I stared at him, fearful and unmoving. He smiled from my look of pain, holding me in place as he dug his fingers into my shoulder.

“What's the matter, gonna cry? How much of a worthless little shit are you?” The hellfire in his eyes was replaced with a lustful stare, as if he got off to my pain. Fuck for all I knew he did. He let go of my hair and pushed me forward, ordering me to pick up my things. Just to avoid any more if the pain. I quickly gathered them and rushed in, ignoring the burning sensation in my arms and laid them down next to a staircase. I had my head down the whole time, not daring to look around, my eyes wide with fear.

At the time I knew what I've gotten myself into, I just didn't want to accept it.

The smell of stale beer and sweat filled my lungs, coming flowing from what I could only assume was a living room. As I stood there, shaking in fear, I heard him walk in and slam the door, pushing me into the staircase rails as he walked by. I grunted as he grabbed my arm harshly, pulling me along the poorly cleaned hallway. This time, I managed to get a good look at where I was. There were two doorways to the right, one was open slightly and producing that awful, putrid smell, the other was shut. In between the two was a set of black drawers with cupboards. Centred on the top was a clear glass vase with viscous, murky water with a bushel of withered, brown flowers.

A head of us, was yet another doorway leading into the kitchen. The kitchen wasn't all that better than the hallway. Clumps of mold stuck to corners and crevices of the kitchen that couldn't be easily reached. A dented refrigerator gurgled in protest as we walked past.

“You cook, you clean, you do everything I tell you got it?” A firm hand slapped my face as he tightened his grip on me, taking my silence as me not listening. “Answer me when I talk to you, you stupid bitch! You're lucky I chose to adopt you, you worthless cow, be grateful I'm even giving you a home. Does that thick skull of yours understand what I've told you?”

“Y-yes.” I weakly said, holding my red cheek. “I understand.”

“Good. Cook me something and bring a beer. If the food isn't up to my standards, you'll fucking feel it. Got it?” Letting go of my arm he grabs my hair and forces me to look up. “Look at me, when I'm speaking.”

“Y-yes.”

“Good.” He let go of my hair and strolled out of the kitchen and the living room. Tears erupted from my eyes as I fell to my knees, crying as I did my best to hold in my sobbing. Scrubbing the tears from my face I stood up as I prepared his dinner. ‘What was he going to do to me if it wasn't good enough?’ I asked myself as I searched the cabinets for anything that could be used. I struggled to keep my hands from shaking as I dug out cans of expired food, shivering in disgust from just the dates.

I couldn't keep my heart in check as it thumped against my chest. I was beyond fucking terrified, my mind thought of things that made it worse. Eventually I found a bag of pasta, I remember it being fettuccine. Hah, hell of a thing to remember out of all that was going on huh? Now, I'm no cook or chef, but I did watch Eddie make numerous dishes with pasta.

Taking the initiative, I searched high and low for other ingredients. I filled a kettle to the max and set it to boil, before opening the fridge, finding a cheese block and a stick of salami. A good seventeen minutes later, I created a dish, to the best of my ability. Ropes of melted cheese clung to the strings of pasta, chunks of meat scattered throughout, giving a pleasant aroma, a drastic change to what I was smelling earlier. And only with a few burns here and there.

'Here’s hoping that it's good enough for him.’ I thought as I took a deep breath, pulling a can of beer from the fridge. I couldn't stop shaking as I walked down the hall towards the living room, holding them on a black tray that I had found. That same smell filled my lungs again, almost making me retch as I entered.

“Fucking finally. Jesus, are you always this slow, or are you just retarded?” He asked rhetorically, pulling the tray from my hands. The room was littered with beer cans of all types and brands, an ashtray rested on the arm of the chair he was sitting in. The TV was blaring something from the news, nothing really interesting. Taking a forkful, of the food, he huffed as he chewed and swallowed. “Good enough I suppose, stay in your room till I say otherwise.”

“W-what about me?”

“What about you?” He stood up, resting the tray on a table and standing up, towering over me as he bent down and grabbed ahold of my neck, choking as he calloused hands tightened. He pinned me against the wall, with that lustful look in his. It seems that he really did get off on my pain, I felt his other hand began to slowly inch down my chest, regardless of the fact that I didn't have anything there. If you know what I mean.

With a hard kick to the shin, he backpedaled with a grunt, letting go of my throat. He grabbed my hair before I could get a chance to run, pulling me towards him before slamming my head off of the table corner. I yelped in pain, falling to the floor with blood trickling down my face.

“You little shit!” He kicked my stomach, hard. Hard enough for my body to expel its content onto the floor, leaving a burning sensation in the back of my throat. Another kick forced more of it out, bile clung to my lips like thick honey. Noticing the puddle of vomit. He grabbed my head and rubbed my face in it, getting it into the fresh cut. The Stinging pain was almost to much.

Done with his 'fun’ he left me in the puddle, cracking open the beer can and chugged a good amount of it before setting it back on the table. All I could do was just...sit there. Curled into a ball and watching was my blood and vomit mixed together, shivering, and afraid. Once again grabbing my ponytail, he dragged me out of the living room and up the stairs, thumping my head against each step as I struggled and screamed to get away from him. He opened a door directly after stairs and threw me in before shutting the door and locking it, leaving me in total darkness.

I just layed there for god knows how long, just waiting in a crumpled heap, waiting for him to come back in and do something else. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, all I could see was a bed mattress with a single, dirty pillow and a raggy as fuck blanket filled with holes. When I realised that he wouldn't come back, I crawled over to the bed, wiping the blood and vomit from my face with a corner of the blanket and I curled up into a ball. And i cried. I cried and i cried and i cried, sobbing into my pillow as i wished to go home.

That was the first day of the torture. The day when I stopped caring about myself. The first day of five long fucking years of the abuse.

I woke up cold the next day facing the door, wincing as I touched my head, the blood had stopped, thankfully, the dried blood pulled on my skin painfully. Speaking of which, my stomach felt like shit. I hugged my knees as beams of light pierced the cracks of the boarded up window, illuminating the floating dust particles. A darkly coloured, rotting desk sat directly underneath the window, woodlice crawled out of the holes and crevasse.

Other than the desk, the room was utterly barren. No posters, no bookshelves, nothing. I stared at the cubby hole underneath the desk, you know, where the chair would normally go. Only there was no hole, at least not to me, just a dark empty void. My stomach growled in hunger, provoking me to hug my knees tighter. 'Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this!?’

“Oh I think she'll be fine for you, hell, she is for me. Oh how I love the look of fear in her eyes.” I heard through the door as Michael gently unlocked it and opened it. Quickly shutting my eyes, I pretended to still be asleep, which he thankfully believed. “Pah, you wish. She's a weak little bitch, I'm able to send her to the ground with just one push.” He knelt down next to me and brushed the strands of matted hair to the side, brushing against the cut, making me wince. He hummed cruelly as his hands traveled down south, past my stomach and rested on my thigh.

“What? No no. I Have done anything to her, yet. Well other than beat her. Hmm, if that's the case when can you and the guys come round? Next year!?” I jumped from the sudden shout, but I still managed to keep up my disguise. “For fucks sake, fine. Just get here when you can.” With a beep he shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Hey. Wake up you little shit.” He violently shook my body 'waking’ me.

“W-what?”

“Shut up, and get up.” He glared, pulling me to my feet and out of the room, pushing me towards the stairs. I stumbled a bit as I ran down, tripping over my luggage that was left there. I froze by then as he walked down and opened the living room door, nodding for me to go in.

Walking in, I could see that the puddle of vomit was gone, either it had soaked into the carpet or he cleaned it up himself, I don't know. The table in the centre was barren, the empty cans were swiped onto the floor, and in their place was an outfit. An extremely skimpy, barely covering anything at all maid outfit. Oh yeah. That's right, turns out he was a professional tailor.

I swallowed hard, gingerly turning to him, receiving a cold stare back. Fearing for my life, I said nothing as I striped down to my underwear feeling exposed. I could feel his gaze drink in my body, lingering by my flat chest, before dragging down to my white panties. I instinctively cover my privates with my hands, even if the fabric were doing their job perfectly.

I unclipped the skirt from the rest of the uniform, brushing a hand against the fabric as I slipped it on. It felt like acid on my skin. Don't get me wrong, the skirt fabric was fine n’ all, under any other circumstance I'd want a skirt much like it, but the way it barely covered my panties, the way that it framed my ass. It. Was. Agonising. The bra, if you could call it that, was a literal strip of partially translucent silk that practically pronounced my nipples. A pair of black and white, thigh-high stockings. Along with those came an alternative pair of the same colour for my arms, ending before my shoulders. And that was it. I was given nothing else.

Apparently satisfied, he smiled and walked towards me, kneeling to brush a bang out of my face. He chuckled, cupping my cheek and lifting my face towards him. He gently rubbed my cheek with a thumb.

“Who's a pretty princess?” He said with malice, his voice dug its way into me like venom from a snake. He pushed my face harshly to the side before collecting his coat and opening the front door. “I'll be gone for awhile, I want this place spotless when I return. Or else.” With that, he slammed the door shut. Lacking the energy to cry, I did as I was told. I'll spare you the details as I'm sure you couldn't care less. However I will say that while I was cleaning I found, and cleaned, a mirror that was covered in some sort of dusty-mold like substance. Once it was clean, I could hardly recognise my reflection. The bruise on my stomach had darkened considerably and was painful to touch. The scab on my head looked bad, possibly even infected from how red the skin was around it. My hair was dirty and greasy, matted in some places where the blood had dried, and my skin had somehow paled in colour. But the worst, and most noticeable, were my eyes. They had lost their bright, silver sheen, instead they were dull and gray. Dead.

I was startled by the door slamming open, banging off of the wall. I had just finished cleaning the final room, the living room, and I was tying up the last of the trash bags. I quickly rushed over to the main hall where Michael stood, glaring at me as I set the bags down next to the staircase. With a simple order of 'stay there' he explored the housed for a good half hour, looking into every nook and cranny he could find before coming to a stop from where he started.

“Do you mind explaining this?” He said with a chill in his voice, cold enough for goosebumps to form on my skin. In his hands was the vase that once rested on the stand in the hallway, it's murky, rotten water swirled and rolled over the glass, licking the lip of vase, threatening to spill over the edge. 'Oh hell, Jane you stupid cunt.’ I mentally cursed myself as I tore my gaze from the floor to face him. “What did I say when I left? I wanted this place spotless!” The sharp sting of his hand nearly threw me off my feet but, unfortunately, he had quickly grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me towards him.

He forced my mouth open with a single hand, lifting the lip of the vase to my lips. Instinctively, my body recoiled in disgust from the smell, forcing me to struggle against him. But there was no point. I was a little girl back then, what the fuck could I have done against him? I threw up in my mouth as he poured the liquid down my throat, the taste made my impossible struggle all that more desperate. I couldn't even begin to describe the taste properly, it was horrid and foul, as if eating rotten meat that were left out in the sun for weeks. Tears swelled in my eyes as his painful grip on my jaw tightened. He was doing that thing that you do to dog to get them to eat pills. You know, the fucking throat rubbing. No wonder they hate it.

As I swallowed the last of the fluid, he threw me to the ground, walking to the kitchen as he left my body convulse, trying to get whatever the fuck it swallowed out somehow. This began another round of 'how much can you throw up?’, my favourite. I couldn't get control of my body, it just kept spamming and retching leaving me in a pool of my bile.

Ah, déjà vu.

He returned a few minutes later with something shiny in his hands. He watched me with his cold eyes, watching with a smile as my body shivered in agony, the only form of comfort that was even remotely close where my knees. I hugged them tightly, rocking back and forth on my side. I was suddenly jerked onto my back, although I barely felt it. I was just so weak. I didn't put up much of a fight as he dragged a finger from my chest all the way down to my bruise, to which he firmly pressed down on.

“What am I going to do with you?” He asked quietly, a psychopathic gleam in his eyes. “You can't even follow simple fucking orders.” My breath hitched as I felt something sharp press against my premature right breast. It was a knife. He had a fucking vegetable knife pressed against my tit. “You're gonna have to be told a lesson.”

I hissed through my teeth.

I felt the cold knife puncture my skin.

I felt it carve a path down my body.

I screamed. And I screamed. And I screamed. They fell on deaf ears as I thrashed back and forth, doing anything to get away from him. He only held me tighter, holding me against the ground, fuck, I must have passed out at least once from the pain. Blood spilt furiously from his carving, splattering onto the wooden floor. He removed the blade somewhere around my belly button.

Do you know what the worst thing about it? It was only the tip of the blade. All that pain and blood was the result of the fucking tip. I kinda wishes he killed me then, in that hallway. Instead, he laughed and left, retrieving his sewing kit and a bottle of antiseptic liquid. He opened the bottle with a pop, and poured its contents into my cut. To this day I still couldn't tell if the knife was worse than the liquid or the other way round.

He hummed a goddamn merry tune as he began to sew me up, wrapping me in a poor excuse for a bandage and left me there.

That was the first of many scars I had gotten from that bastard.

Let's skip a year. It was winter, and a cold one at that. The snow was falling lightly, forming a soft blanket on the ground. I watched the snow crunch under my boots, that satisfying sound brought a smile to my face, one of the few good things in my life now. I hugged my thick, long sleeved sweater as a particularly chilly wind blows over me, blowing on the still tender scar, even though it had completely healed over. I think they call it 'phantom pains’ or something like that. You know, despite being an utter prick, Michael knew how to hide his 'handy work’ if you will.

Anyway. I was out with my friend, Steve, walking back from school with him in front. He was humming a Christmas song that I couldn't remember. I wanted to tell him what was happening, but I just couldn't, I was terrified of what Michael would do to me, or worse, my friends if I told them. I couldn't put them through that pain.

“Hey, you okay?” Steve asked placing a hand on my bruised shoulder. I bit my cheek, ignoring the pain as I looked up at him, a fake sparkle in my eyes.

“Of course, why wouldn't I be?” I asked, rubbing condensed snow out of my jeans. I hated lying to him, but what other choice did I have? Fuck I was such an idiot. Maybe Michael was right about me.

“I don't know, you just seem kinda... quite lately.” That look he gave me, the look of compassion, I hated it. He's been giving me it ever since I walked back into that classroom at the start of the year. I hated it. It made me feel so fucking weak.

“I'm fine, jeez, what's gotten into you!?” I slapped his hand off of me, looking to the side of him as I crossed my arms. Why did i do that? Why did I snap at him?

“I, I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. I was just worried.”

“Yeah well, don't. I don't need you to be worried.” I glared at him, before walking ahead. “Not that you'd actually care anyway.” I uttered under my breath. 'Fucking hell, stop it Jane! He's only trying to help.’

He said nothing as he trailed behind me. It was a long walk to Michael's, cold and boring with not much to talk about. I'm sure that he wanted to talk to me about my attitude towards him, but I think he was afraid I'd snap at him again. I breathed in the cold fresh air, smiling slightly as a snowflake dropped onto my nose. Over the horizon, my house came into view, a sight that always made my heart drop, especially today, since he had his ‘friends’ over today. I don't know what they had in store for me, and to be honest, I don't want to know. But it's not like I have a choice in the matter now do I?

The house loomed over me, filling me with dread. My hand hovered above the door knob, twitching and shaking. I steeled my resolve, my hand latching onto the cold brass. I turned and waved Steve off as I opened the door, the stench of smoke and beer replacing the crisp air. Reluctantly, he waved back and made his way back to the orphanage.

Kicking the snow from my boots, I began my routine of self hate and disgust. I hear laughing from the living room, Michael and his friends no doubt. I walk up the stairs to my room, it's dank, musty smell a better smell than down stairs. I caught my reflection in the mirror after getting charged into my 'uniform.’ My scar drew my eye first, a permanent mark on my body. A wrong answer that I couldn't scribble out. I could see my ribs poke out, almost threatening to burst out from my skin. I traced a few of the newer scars with a finger before sighing, my eyes now dull once more. 'What an ugly body.’ A thought passed through my brain, something that I agreed with. 'I guess I am lucky that Michael chose me.’ You might be asking why I was thinking about these kind of things.Well, go through enough mental and physical abuse and soon enough you begin to believe that it really is your fault. You begin to believe that you're nothing without the abuser.

Entering the kitchen, I began to make dinner for the them. Judging by the loud obnoxious slurs, they won't care what I made. So I just said fuck it and made lasagna, dumping it on four separate plates and brought it into the living room on a trolley after about an hour, with a few burns here and there. The living room was dark, with barely any light apart from the one that hung from the ceiling, illuminating the table in the middle. Strangely, I could see Michael clearly in the dark, his three other friends concealed in the darkness, apart from their predatory eyes watching me, still engaged in their drunken conversation. Their eyes never left me. Oh God. Oh god the eyes.

Before I could leave, Michael grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him. He was barely keeping himself awake from his drunken stupor, eyeing me the same way the others were. Saying nothing, I stiffened as his hand touched my chest, cupping my breast with a warm hand, hardening my...well I don't have to say it, do I? With a pinch, his hand trailed down my body, stopping at the hem of my skirt, before dipping down both it and my underwear.

He started to...to...rub. If you catch my meaning, my whimpering caused him to smile, flashing his whites. I tried my best to hold back my tears, but they still came. They seemed to satisfy him, as he went further. I felt a sharp pain and the sticky, warm feel of blood trickle down my leg. I held beck the yelp that stuck in my throat as he pushed his two of his fingers... insides.

Luckily for me, he passed out shortly after, face planting the table and falling to the ground. His friends laughed instead of helping him, practically loading their shit. So I took the chance and left, sprinting up the stairs to my room before locking the door. I slid my back down the door, crying for the billionth time that week. my vag freely leaking blood as I did my best to stop it with my socks.

His friends didn't bother me for the rest of the night. Lucky me, eh?

It was the final day. The day when I could take no more and four years after he deflowered me. He had broke me down, mentally and physically, made me feel like an ant in the palm of his hands, made me feel weak, like I was nothing. A cruel smile reflected off of the vegetable knife in my hand, the same one that cut me long ago. Ironic, ain't it?

“Hey, didn't you hear me?!” Michael said behind me, standing in the doorway.

“No. And I don't give a fuck anyway.” I said, momentarily taken back from my dead voice before shaking it off.

“What did you say, you little shit?” He grabbed and pulled my hand, the one that wasn't holding the knife. I took the opportunity and spun, stabbing the knife as far as I could into his body. Obviously not expecting it, he gasped and pushed me away, taking the knife with me. He grunted and yelled in pain as I quickly slashed at his arms in rapid succession. I pounced on his back as he tried to get away, stabbing him in the shoulders and the back. He bashed his side off of the hallway table, falling onto the floor. I stabbed him a few more times in the back before he managed to kick me off of him, smacking my head off of the wall.

Oooh, but I was far from fucking done. I quickly managed to slash the back of his knees rendering them immobile at the moment. The sick tearing sound the knife made made me smile all the brighter, as did his screaming. I rolled him over onto his back and sat on his lap, pining his shoulders to the floor with my hands. He looked in fear at me, the drunken haze that he always had quickly vanished as he looked into my eyes. I saw myself In his reflection, drenched in his blood, dripping off of my face.

I continued my stabbing, screaming curses and crying as years of pent up hate and depression flowed out of me. I had lost count after the twentieth stab, continuing even after his body had stopped moving. My crying became a mixture of tears and laughter as I lost it.

I must have stared at his lifeless body for at least an hour, I had spent everything that he had taken from me, and all that was left was a cold, tired husk of a person. Completely drained of...well... everything. Nothing remained. No hate, or spite or, well anything. Already at that moment. Jesus, I must sound like a fucking broken record at the moment, but how else could I describe it.

[Alright, this is the end of the fucked up stuff.]

{Fluttershy's POV}

I stared at Silver in shock, unbelieving of what I just heard. She stared off into the lake, flicking a pebble or two at a time. For the first time ever, I didn't see her as a strong, beautiful woman that I care so much about, well, I did still see her strength but… in a new light i guess you could say. But I also d didn't see her as a monstrous demon that many would have. No, I saw her as a broken, vulnerable child, held down and entangled by thick heavy chains. A child that, despite dawning on a heavy mask that hid her true self, needed help, someone who needed love.

I jumped from my spot on the ground, glomping her and holding her tight in a hug and wrapping her up in my wings. I couldn't care less if we were on the cold, muddy ground and ruining our dresses. I kissed and nuzzled her cheek trying anything to make her feel better. I felt her arms wrap around me, but she didn't say anything, choosing to weep silently.

“You know what's funny?” She asked after a while, staring into my eyes. “I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I guess with Steve dieing and that stupid as fuck therapist, which I hope got fired, finally popped the cork. I've repressed this for so long, thinking that I didn't need to, no, I shouldn't bother anyone with it.” She hugged me tighter, wiping her tears on my fur. “I didn't want anyone else to feel bad for me, I hated everyone who thought i looked weak, or looked at me with pity in their eyes.” She sighed exhaustively, looking off to the side. “I guess after all this time, I still can't crush that part of me.”

“Silver, I don't see you as a weak person. You're the strongest, most powerful and beautiful mare I know! I can't possibly imagine the pain that you went through, even if you did tell me, in vivid detail may I add.” She chuckled slightly, making my heart flutter. I love her laugh so much. It's nice to hear it despite everything that's been happening to her recently. She needs happiness bin her life, and I'll do my best to give it to her, because I lov-.

“Wait, did you call me beautiful just then?” She asked suddenly, a heavy burning sensation spread from ear to ear as I froze. I suddenly realised the compromising position I was in.

“O-oh, well, oh my! W-well I-I, uhhm.” I stuttered out, staring at her in shock, once again. 'Oh, my! Did I really just say that?! Oh she must think I'm so weird now!’

“Wait, do you smell that?” I paused, and breathed in. Apart from wonderful smell the came from Silver's hair, I didn't notice anything else. Then it hit me, the putrid, sickly sweet smell that i had the misfortune of smelling only once before.

The smell of a decomposing corpse.