I watch from among the trees as Twilight Sparkle stops within the circle and turns around. Grim old stones like teeth rise out of the earth around her. She turns around, counting each stone under her breath. Her horn casts lengthening shadows behind each stone as her calculating eyes pass them by.

One of the shadows reach out to touch me for a second before it retreats back into its rock. Twilight Sparkle stops and steps towards one of the stones. She circles around the old stone, and its shadow flees before her until she stops at where it points to the center of the glade. She places a long, ornate knife carefully on the ground beside her.

I step closer to watch as flames of lavender fire burn around Twilight’s slender horn. The flames surround her in a circle upon the ground, turning plants to ash and licking the old stone. Something stirs within the earth with a lust for the fire of her soul.

Twilight kneels and lowers her head to the ground. She lies down on her side in the midst of the flames. I hold my hooves to my mouth as her mane and coat are consumed in the flames, becoming a whisp of ash and smoke carried away on the wind. I want to cry out and stop her, but something holds me back in the shade of the trees.

Her deep purple eyes look straight ahead in a resigned stare, and she doesn’t even flinch. The flames surround the knife and lift it off the ground. She leans her head backwards, exposing her throat for the sacrifice. The sharp blade presses against her neck and pulls upwards in one fatal arc of red. Her eyes widen, and she lets out an almost inaudible gasp.

I am unable to look away as her blood spills forth in deep red streams to feed the ground. Her eyes lose their luster and become distant as her life seeps away and fuels the fire. The now dark indigo flames flare up with lust as they consume her body and soul. The earth stirs and cracks open around her, and as the flames slowly flicker and die, nothing remains of Twilight but ashes.

In her stead rises a shade.

And it looks like Twilight Sparkle.

I close my eyes tight and cry for it to go away.

I shudder and cry as I open my eyes again. The forest is gone. Instead I look up at a portrait above an old fireplace. Through the dust and grime of ages I see the face of a pony.

And she looks like Twilight Sparkle.

Dust falls from the painting as the pony turns to stare at me.

I scream and close my eyes.

I open my eyes and sit up in bed, hugging Stitch close to my heart as I look around my room. Everything is calm. Outside my window I can see the red glow of the sun as it rises. Spring is nearly here, and that means Winter Wrap-up and Spring Break.

Mandrake’s skull sits on my nightstand beside her old music box, the diary and Daffodil’s hoof bone. I brought them back with me to remember. No pony understands, but these are the most precious things I own.

I reach out to open the box and pick up the hoof. I close my eyes and hold the smooth bone against my cheek as I let the soft melody play. It’s been almost six months since we left Dappleshore. It still makes me cry to remember.

Mandrake and Daffodil; I know they are both listening.

No pony else does.

“She’s coming back,” I say, and I know it’s not a question.

They know it too.

No pony else does.

They all say it was my imagination, that what I found was just the fantasies of a young pony from long ago. I told Twilight, but she doesn’t believe in ghosts either. How can somepony so smart and with so much magic not believe me?

They all want me to think about something else. They say it’s not good for me, that I need to move on and forget what happened. I can’t even talk to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo about it, or they get in trouble for ‘encouraging me’. It’s not fair.

No pony believed Mandrake either.

But we know it’s true.

I look across the room at the ghost of a filly leaning in the window, looking at the sky and herself in the glass. She longs to fly free and laugh. Her face and body are scarred from the stitches, but she is still beautiful to me. No pony else knows that she is there, but she is always close to me. All I wish is to reach out and touch her and hold her close.

I hug Stitch a little tighter and kiss the hoof before putting it back down.

“Sweetie Belle? It’s time to get up!” Dad’s voice calls from below.

The clock ticks away endlessly slow, each second slower than the last. Up by the blackboard, Cheerilee is going back over everything we have been over the last week, summarizing the most relevant points; risks and diseases, the importance of protection and how to use it, the importance of saying no and how to resist pressure, that it is okay to wait and also to experiment, that it is natural to be curious but important to be safe and not go along with anything you’re not sure about.

We’ve had classes on stuff like this before, but the school has decided that since we’re reaching a certain age and spring break is close, this is the perfect time to refresh and bring up some more practical and relevant advice.

I look down at the leaflets and two small packets on my table. The school is offering them to every student. I took two, but only so that no pony will know I’m not into colts. I turn my head and glance at Scootaloo. She’s staring blankly ahead with her head on the table, resting upon a small pile of them. I can’t decide if she really expects to see that much action.

I guess the school couldn’t have chosen a better time. Practically everypony at school is hooking up with somepony, it seems. Scootaloo has been seeing Rumble a lot. I guess they are kinda cute together, but I can’t help but feel a sting of jealousy whenever I see them.

Diamond Tiara is sitting to my left, writing another letter to that colt she claims to have met in Canterlot. Some snooty little elite, I bet. Who writes a lot.

Silver Spoon … I don’t know about Silver Spoon. She’s always so aloof and never says anything, at least not to me or when I’m near. She took two of the condoms, just like me. Everypony else is hooking up, except me … and Apple Bloom. I look around at my friend behind me. She didn’t take any. I don’t think she’s even interested in colts … or fillies. I don’t know.

“Sweetie Belle, pay attention please,” Cheerilee interrupts me.

I turn around again. “Sorry, Miss Cheerilee.”

I glance at the clock. Ten minutes to Spring Break.

“You aren’t really gonna use all those, are you?” Apple Bloom looks askance at Scootaloo and her bag full of protection.

Scootaloo turns around on her scooter, driving backwards so she can look at us as she talks. “You gotta be prepared, right?” she grins and blushes. “And you know, me and Rumble, we’ve kinda been … talking a lot.” Her blush brightens, and she quickly seems to want to deflect attention. “At least I took some. Better too many than too few.”

“I don’t think I’ll need any,” Apple Bloom says certainly. “But I saw you took so many, so I figured I could always just ask Sweetie Belle for hers. You certainly shouldn’t need any more, and Sweetie Belle ain’t gonna use hers I reckon’.”

Scootaloo rolls her eyes. “They’re not a limited resource, AB.”

I look around, but no pony is nearby or looking. I dig through my bag and hoof Apple Bloom the two packets. “So do you two want to do some crusading today?” I ask half-heartedly to change the topic. “Or how about we go to the swimming hole?”

Scootaloo looks at me with apologetic eyes. “Sorry, Sweetie Belle. I promised to see Rumble after school. But we’ve got two whole weeks to see each other right?”

I look at Apple Bloom. Her eyes immediately tell me the answer. “Sorry. Granny Smith made me promise to help her with the early newborn piglets. But we’ll see each other tonight perhaps?”

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later, then.” I wave at my two friends as they head in different directions, leaving me alone on the road.

I look around and sigh. Everypony else has someplace to be and somepony to be with. I turn around and trudge down the road towards home.

The air coming through my open window is a bit cold, but the sun is shining and the birds returning from the south are chirping in the trees. And yet I am lying on my bed, staring out at the clear blue sky. If I am very quiet I can hear somepony laughing and playing far away.

Somewhere out there, Scootaloo and Rumble are having fun together. I wonder what they are doing. Was she serious? I guess I’m happy for her, and I know she can take care of herself.

I pick up Stitch and turn around on my back, staring up into her button eyes. It’s only me and her now. I don’t see Mandrake very much anymore, but I know she’s still there somewhere deep inside me. But Daffodil is always here with me.

With Scootaloo gone, I’ve spent a lot of time with Daffodil. I’ve come to love her. I know it’s a little odd, since she’s a ghost, but she’s always there with me.

I know she loves me too.

I close my eyes and sigh as I hold the doll close to my heart. I wish we could be together for real. I wish I could feel the touch of her body and the warmth of her heart. I wish I could feel those scars and tell her, she’s still beautiful.

I concentrate, and I can feel the texture of the curtains through my magic as I pull them closed. It’s a strange sensation to use magic, but I’m getting better at it. I leave the window open to feel the gentle cold against my skin and hear the soft rustling of the wind outside.

I feel a little warm as I think of Daffodil and imagine her touch against the inside of my leg. Stitch feels warm against my chest in the cold wind. I kiss her and let my hoof move down over my softly heaving belly to where my fantasy is playing out.

I feel the soft fur as I stroke it, imagining the touch of her tender lips and breath. I let go of Stitch and use my other hoof as well, feeling the sensitive fur and soft dampness between my legs. I keep my eyes closed as I caress myself, thinking of Daffodil. It is not hard, because I know she’s here with me.

I hear myself give a little sigh of pleasure. I try to keep it quiet; the thought that somepony might hear me is a little scary but also strangely hot. I pause and try to focus on and feel the smooth texture of the long feather I keep in my nightstand. I open my eyes to better see as I levitate it towards me.

I look up into Daffodil’s beautiful face above me. I smile and hold the feather up in the air so that it floats as part of her outstretched, ghostly wing. It is almost perfectly white, almost like her coat. Almost like our coat.

Daffodil looks at the feather, and we move it together.

The faintest touch of the feather sends jolts and shivers through my body. I gasp and bite my lip as it plays along my coat, brushing my lips and ears. It touches my neck and cheek, tickling and teasing me with the softest of touches. All the while I stare up into her playful eyes and imagine that I am helpless against the loving touch of her wings and lips.

I wish we could play together, experiment together, learn together. I wish this could all be real.

“We could try something,” she whispers in my mind, and she sounds a little nervous, like she’s afraid to ask it. “But you have to trust me.”

I look into her eyes and reach out a hoof to her face. “What do you … what do you mean?”

My hoof drops and is pressed gently against the mattress. I stare at it, then back up at Daffodil and the feather which is dangling above my horn, held in my own magic but no longer following my thoughts. “Is that … you doing that?”

She nods. “We can play this way,” she says and smiles. “But only if you trust me, and only if you want me to.”

I let out a squeal of delight and quickly slap my other hoof over my mouth, blushing as I glance at the window. The thought of giving myself over to her completely is a little scary, but somehow I know when I look deep into her eyes that I can trust her completely.

I smile and nod up at her.

And then I feel myself losing control. She’s doing it slowly, and I’m glad she does that. I’m helpless beneath her, and she can do anything.

“I have dreamed of this for a hundred years and more,” she whispers, and I can almost feel her ghostly lips against mine as she kisses me. “Do you think you can be quiet, Sweetie? You know how I don’t like it when the window is closed.”

I feel a hoof run down my leg. I know it is my own, but oh Daffodil, it doesn’t feel like it. I close my eyes and gasp. I don’t think I can be quiet. I don’t think I want to.

I’m her unicorn, and her plaything.

“Do you have to go?”

Rarity turns at me with an exasperated look. “Yes, Sweetie Belle. Honestly.” She trots past me to rummage through her drawers. “It is one weekend, and it is not like you will be alone. Your two friends will be here, and mother and father, and lots of other ponies you know.”

“But—” I stop myself and stomp the ground. I know what she’ll say. She’ll say I’m making up stories again, and then she’ll talk to mom and dad, and they’ll threaten to take away the diary and the skull because they think they are bad for me.

“What is the matter with you?” Rarity says and looks at me like I’m some mysterious creature from the Everfree Forest. She sighs and rubs her eye as she picks up a dress. “It is only a common fair, Sweetie Belle, and we will all be there together. We most certainly shall not be going into any swamps or icky old places, so you have nothing to worry about.”

She folds the dress and puts it aside before turning back around. “I know it is still hard for you, and I know that you worry, but you can’t let it affect your life forever.”

I stare at her as if my gaze alone could make her listen to me. If only I could make them all see that I am not making things up.

Rarity sighs and kneels down beside me, placing a hoof on my shoulder. “I promise we will be careful. I promise we’re not going into the swamps or anything like that. Okay?”

I sniff as she wipes a tear from my eyes. I push her aside and gallop out of the boutique. Why won’t anypony just listen to me?

“Please, Twilight?”

Twilight Sparkle looks down at me, and I give her my most irresistible eyes. “I wish I could help you, Sweetie Belle, but the fair is tomorrow, and I promised all my friends I would go with them. Our train leaves tonight, and I have a report I need to write to the princess before I leave, but I’ll be back again monday.”

“But I really need your help,” I plead with her. It has to work. “It’s a really big project about magic and, and science. There’s no pony else in all of Ponyville who knows as much about that as you, Twilight.”

Twilight blushes but doesn’t look like she’s bending. “I’m very sorry, Sweetie. I’d love to see what you’re working on, and it’s wonderful to see you spend your spring break on something like this. But I really can’t help you right now, and there will still be time on monday.”

She picks up a book and puts it back on its shelf before turning back around. “Tell you what, when I get back, we’ll spend a whole day on your project to make up for it. I think you’ll be surprised how much work can be done when you sit down and really focus even for a short time. Does that sound good?”

“Nevermind,” I say and spin around.

“Sweetie Belle—” I hear her call behind me as I run, trying not to cry.

Three days, and they have been some of the longest of my life.

I gaze out at the stars. They should be on the train back home by now. I try to imagine them on the train after three days of fun and festivities at the fair. I try to imagine them laughing and returning home happy and safe. Rarity promised that they would.

But deep down I can feel that something is wrong, and it isn’t just fear.

Daffodil wraps her ghostly hooves around my waist and rests her head on my shoulder as we gaze up at the sky together.

The train from Baltimare comes to a halt, and the doors open in a puff of steam. I don’t know what to expect, but I know it will be bad. I feel tense as I watch the doors and the ponies as they come out one by one.

Pinkie is first out, and she spins around and chatters on and on about something. Fluttershy is out next, followed by Rainbow Dash who is immediately tackled by Scootaloo. Applejack and my sister step out, and Spike comes last. Apple Bloom hugs her sister.

I watch the group of friends getting off the train, and I know what’s wrong. “Where’s Twilight?”

“I’m happy to see you too, dear sister,” Rarity says in a sarcastic tone and stops in front of me. She waits for a few meaningful second before asking, “How was your weekend?”

I look up at her. “Where’s Twilight?”

Rarity sighs and turns around with Spike and her luggage trailing behind her. “She is fine, dear. She had some business back in Dappleshore and decided to stay. She will be back once she is done, which I am certain will not be long.”

I remain behind on the platform, staring at the train as if merely wishing could make Twilight suddenly trot out and yell “surprise!”

I wake up, and all I remember of the dream is the digging, the sound of the shovel and the scent of the grave as soft earth is turned and something uncovered.

I can feel Daffodil. She is uneasy, and we both know why.

Two more pictures adorn the front page of the news this morning. Their happy faces stare out at me as I pick up the paper and read the latest report. Two more fillies disappeared outside Dodge City. The disappearances are getting closer to Ponyville.

I know who it is, but no pony would believe me or even listen to me if I told them.

The bell above the door of the boutique chimes. “Sweetie Belle?” I look up as Rarity walks into the room. “There you are,” she says. “I just returned from Town Hall, and the mayor says there’s going to be a curfew until the culprit of these disappearances has been caught.”

They won’t catch her. How will they catch somepony they don’t believe in?

Rarity sits down next to me. “No filly or colt is allowed outside after the sun has set without a guardian, and you are not to open the door or window for anyone. If they don’t have the key, they don’t get in.” She reaches out a hoof to lift my gaze from the paper. “Okay?”

I nod. “Mhmm.”

She looks directly at me, and I know she is simply worried. “I mean it, Sweetie Belle. If I find you outside after dark, or that you let anypony in, even if it’s just one of your friends, I will make sure mother and father take away all your privileges for a year! We almost lost you once. We don’t want it to happen again.”

“I know,” I say.

“Promise me you’ll behave?”

“I promise.”

She searches my eyes before pulling me into a hug. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll find this … this monster soon.”

“Will Twilight Sparkle come back?” I mutter as I return the hug.

“She is … very busy with very important work,” she says, and I can hear that she worries too. I wonder if she believes it. “But I am sure our letters will convince her that it is time to put it aside and come back to her friends. I am sure she misses us all too.”

It is dark outside, and Midnight is out there. I don’t know how, but she never really died, not like she should have, and I know she is behind the disappearances. I can feel it, in my own heart and in Daffodil whose soul is more restless than ever.

I wonder if I will lose Daffodil, or if she can stay with me once Midnight is gone for good. I don’t think she knows what will happen either. I don’t want to lose her, but I know she wants to be free. I could never ask her to give up her freedom for me.

Midnight is close. I can feel her, it’s like … a wrongness. I stand up with my front hooves against the glass, staring out at the dark. I know I promised my sister, but Mandrake made a promise to Daffodil, and that promise is now mine.

It can not go on forever. I must kill Midnight.

I quietly unlock the window and open it up to the night outside. I stand for a moment before crawling out, climbing carefully down the side of the house. I jump the last distance and land in the soft grass. I look around quickly before hurrying down the street, making sure to say within the shadows.

The wrongness is getting stronger. She’s on the hunt and needs to feed. Mandrake knew about this magic, she was the one who studied it and wrote about it in her journal. I don’t hear much from her, but I know she’s with me. Did Midnight learn about it too?

The village is quiet. Everypony is staying inside because of the disappearances. I round a corner and hurry down a small alley. I stop as I hear a voice and the sound of hooves. I turn around and move back a bit to peek down another street.

I am not the only young pony who is out when they shouldn’t be. I recognize Dinky from school, I think she’s in a class below us. She’s looking frightened as she calls out for her dog. I feel my heart sink at the scene. It is too perfect to be a coincidence.

I can almost taste the wrongness now. We are not alone.

“What is the matter child?”

Dinky spins around and stares at the stranger coming down the street towards her. I wonder if she can feel the wrongness too. “W-who are you? H-have you seen Scruffles?”

The stranger kneels down on one front leg. She’s wearing a heavy black cloak, concealing her face and body. “Don’t worry, child. I won’t hurt you. Where are your parents?”

Dinky sniffs but takes a step away from the stranger. “I-I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“You shouldn’t be out at night either,” the stranger says and holds out a hoof. A glow in her eyes seem to beckon the filly towards her. “Come on, I’ll get you back home. Your parents must be worried.”

Dinky hesitates before approaching the stranger. “But what about Scruffles?”

“Is he your pet?” The stranger stands up and places a hoof on Dinky’s shoulder. “I am sure your parents can help you find him.”

I have to do something.

I step out into the street and concentrate. “Dinky! Run!” I yell. I feel the rough fabric of the stranger’s cloak through my magic and pull as hard as I can through my horn. I feel it more than see it as the cloak is ripped off the stranger’s back.

She looks so much like Twilight Sparkle, but her face is dead, and I can see right through her body as she spins around and stares at me.

Dinky screams, and I wish she would run instead, but I can’t worry about that now. I let go of the cloak and get ready to bolt. “Come and get me, Midnight!”

I can see the surprise in her eyes at the name. I knew that’d get her attention. I spin around and set into a gallop as she takes the bait. I need to keep her away from everypony else.

My heart is in my throat, pounding hard as I round corners as fast as I can. I steer towards the edge of town and the deep forest. There are no young fillies who live in the forest. If I can get her lost in there and hide, maybe she’ll be too weak to survive. Maybe I can keep her running long enough to make her weak.

I only hope I can make it.

I can see the forest ahead.

I look behind me. She isn’t there.

I stop and spin around, looking around for any signs of where she went. I can’t lose her.

“Looking for me, little fly?”

I scream and try to run.

A shadow falls over me, and I fall.

I wake to the darkness and pain. I am lying on my back on hard stone. My legs are tied with rope, and it hurts. I can smell copper. It is overwhelming and makes me feel sick.

I can feel her presence too, the wrongness that seems to shroud her and linger anywhere she has been. I try to keep calm and imagine the ropes. It hurts my head when I try to focus my magic. I try to ignore the pain and push through, but it only gets worse. All I can feel is the pain instead of the rope. I give up with a sigh.

A door opens, and a dim purple light fills the room. I turn my head to see.

The floor is littered with ashes and bones. I see the little skulls with their little horns in front of me. How many has she killed?

“Thirty three.” The door closes, and Midnight picks up a skull as she turns to me. “Thirty three in the last thirteen days.” She sets the skull down next to me on the stone. “A bit more than I need to sustain myself, but I like to … indulge.”

I turn away and close my eyes.

“You know, it took a lot of time to lure that dog out of the house so I could get at the kid.” I can feel her right next to me, circling around me. “I expect now they’ll lock it up, and then I probably won’t have a second chance at your little friend.” She leans down above me. “Was it worth it?”

I don’t answer. I try to turn away from where she is.

“Who are you?” she asks, and I can feel her probing stare like she is trying to read the answer from my face. “How did you know about me? What is it about you that feels so …” Her presence is so close to my face, I am sure if I looked I would see nothing but her eyes. “Strange.”

Daffodil is hiding deep inside. I can tell she is afraid.

Midnight remains silent for a long time before she pulls away a little. I dare to open my eyes again. She is watching me, and I am surprised to find sadness in her eyes.

I remember the vision in the swamp. I remember a younger Midnight crying by the grave she had been digging. When she doesn’t say anything, I dare a question. “Why did you cry out there in the swamp? Who was in the grave?”

Her mouth opens a little, and her brow furrows as she looks at me. “There is only one pony who ever saw me do that or knew about it,” she says. She is hesitating. “I should have expected you would find another unicorn. I can only imagine you will continue to haunt me, one innocent and hapless little filly unicorn after another.”

She looks away. All I can do is wait and hope for a chance of some kind.

“I still bear the scar you gave me. It caused me pain all my life, did you know that? I couldn’t turn my head properly after it healed.” She hasn’t moved but simply stands there looking at me and the room. “You almost had me. Had you acted a fraction of a second sooner, or had I been just a tiny bit slower to react, I would have been dead as you wished.”

“Tragic how it’s ended,” she continues. “You had a great chance, and you lost it. And instead of just ending there, you are now taking an innocent unicorn down with you. And there will be more, won’t there? There’s no way you can stop me now, you do realize that? You will always be a little filly, and we will both keep on coming back.”

“And you didn’t even need to have resorted to this necromancy to get back at me. You could have simply stabbed me in the back and called it a day. What was the point? Some silly wish for it to be Daffodil’s metaphorical hoof that struck the fatal blow from beyond the grave? Poetic justice?”

She finally turns and walks slowly around the stone where I lie. “I don’t know whether to be proud that you did so well and thank you for all the research you did. I never would have gotten where I am without that research. Or should I be ashamed that you never could do it right? That you came so close, and did everything wrong after all?”

Midnight stops and looks at the ashes behind her. “Or perhaps I should feel sad and jealous that I wanted to be your unicorn all along, and now it will haunt me forever.”

I watch her stand there silently, lost in some distant memories. “Who did you bury?”

“You,” she says without looking at me. “Your diary, every copy I made of it, the … dress I made for you. Everything I had that reminded me of you and our time together.”

I am amazed to hear her voice break. She sits down with her eyes averted from me. “I couldn’t bear to look at them. I didn’t want to have to kill you. I almost didn’t. I almost told myself if I got down on my knees and begged forgiveness, everything could have been different. That you would love me like you did in your diary.”

She looks down and closes her eyes. “I was such a foal. I was young, what can I say? I thought you would like the reversal and see it as a chance to fight me and win me, to make me yours by force and right. You weren’t meant to hate me, but you did, I guess. And in the end it was you or me, and I chose me. I had no choice but to kill you. I almost didn’t.”

“Why did you continue?”

“I did what I had to do all my life. If there’s one thing I’ve learned above all else, it’s that you do what you must and never hesitate or regret. I don’t regret any of the others, not for a second.” She opens her eyes and looks up. “And I enjoyed it.” Her eyes turn to me. “I loved watching you die, Daffodil, make no mistake. Your screams and that look in your eyes, it drove me wild with lust even as it hurt me deeply.”

“I had fun with you long after the light and warmth had left you. Not as much fun as watching the moment when your eyes finally stopped seeing, but I couldn’t just let go. It is the ultimate control, you know, to hold another’s life in your hoof. And once they are dead, their body is yours to do with whatever you like.”

She makes me sick, but I can’t stop listening.

“I loved you, Daffodil. I loved you like I’ve never loved before or after. I’ve had others in my life. I’ve killed countless too. I’ve tortured them, amused myself with them in every way while they screamed and begged. I’ve played with their corpses, burned them, and raised them from the ashes again to continue their torment. And I regret none of it, and it has afforded me a wealth of knowledge and magic which could not have been gained in any other way.”

She looks back down. “My only regret in life was making you hate me and having to kill you. I regret that I will now have to repeat that painful memory over and over with you.”

I see my chance, and I only pray it works. “You don’t have to,” I say and feel my heart hesitate at what I am saying. “You could let me go.”

“Oh really? And then what?”

“You could … return to the grave and have peace.”

Midnight looks at the bones and ashes around her. “You are right, I could do that. Would you forgive me if I did?”

Do what you must and never hesitate. How does it work? I look at her as best I can. “I would forgive you, Midnight.”

“We could both be free,” I hear myself speak, and I feel the hope of Daffodil as she rises from within my heart. “All I want is to be free to dream again,” she speaks.

Midnight looks at the floor for a while before smiling sadly. “Free, but never again together.” She stands up and turns around to face Daffodil and me, the smile giving way to sadness. “I’m sorry, Daffodil. I’m sorry for everything I did to you.”

“I can forgive you, if you let me be free,” Daffodil speaks.

Midnight sighs deeply. “I am sorry, Daffodil. I shall look forward to our next meeting instead. May it hurt as much as this one, so that I never forget my one regret.”

“Please, Midnight,” I beg as she steps towards me. “You don’t have to do this.”

Her horn lights up, and I watch the knife gleam in the purple glow. “I have done too much to seek forgiveness, but for you, Daffodil, I shall make it quick this one time.”

I close my eyes and cry. I feel Daffodil within me, trying to hold me, and she makes me happy. I love you, Daffodil. I will miss my friends. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom. My sister. Mom and dad. Everypony in Ponyville.

I will always love you.

“I’m sorry.”

The sharp blade presses against my neck and pulls upwards in one fatal arc of red.

I gasp and open my eyes, but no air fills me. For a few seconds I feel the rush and panic in my heart, but then the purple glow dies and all the world fades and takes away the pain and worry.

My last thoughts are of my friends and family that I shall never see again. Then I feel Daffodil’s hooves around me, and I know that she will never leave me. I cry and hold her tight.

I am her unicorn, and together we will dream, forever.

Author's Notes:

This turned out very different than I planned.

Stitch began as a poem about an evil pony whose soul was trapped in a doll, which Rarity then bought for Sweetie Belle. The doll went on to possess Sweetie Belle in order to make her kill and sew Rarity into some freaky Frankenstein's monster so the doll could have a real body again.

At some point it turned into a prequel to Fillystata instead. Originally the spirit of Mandrake/Daffodil which possessed Sweetie Belle was supposed to be more evil, completely taking over Sweetie Belle's body much like Midnight took over Twilight's body. As the story went on, I guess they became less evil and just sort of tragic.

I never planned on there being much romance either. The doomed Scootabelle wasn't planned, nor was the love between Sweetie and Daffodil. I might have explored both earlier otherwise.

Daffodil's racism, claustrophobia and terrible spelling was also a surprise addition. All in all, I don't think I had any clue what I was writing when I began, even though I outlined all seven chapters in detail first :P I guess it was a learning experience.