Choose The Right Choice

Fluttershy? Are you okay?
>When she landed on the bed, you awoke from your infinite fall dream by landing on some concrete.
>”Oh...y-yes Anonymous, I j-just stood up too fast is all.”
>Fluttershy gets back under her blankets.
>She’s still violently shivering.
Fluttershy? Do you need-
>Fluttershy cuddles up to you and squeezes you hard.
>You pat her back and run your hand over her coat to make her blood flow better.
>She buries her face into your neck.
>You pet her mane and head as you exhale a sigh of comfort.
>”An-non…?”
>You stare at the bathroom doorway with Fluttershy’s head under you.
Yes, Fluttershy?
>You feel something wet on your skin.
>Fluttershy is crying.
>Between her silent sobs you hear her,
>”I’m…so sorry, Anonym-“
>Her voice chokes as she starts to bawl, cutting off her sentence.
>”I-I never meant for this to happen…I just wanted you t-t-to…”
>She sniffs hard.
>”To care…”
>Your heart breaks.
>With those two words, Fluttershy cut right through you.
>You feel tears welling up in your eyes.
>She’s still talking between her cries.
Fluttershy, please.  This was because of me.
>She looks up at you.
You were always there. You were just trying to get close to me, and I just took it for granted. I was never close to anyone, and you were there.
>Fluttershy holds you tightly, burying her face deeper into you.
>Trying to escape.
This whole mess is because of me. You’re addicted and sick.
>”N-No, Anonymous…I’m fine.”
No, Flutters. You’re in pain…it’s obvious. Things are going to just get worse…only for a while.
>You hold her back.
But then…things start to get better. I’ll still be here…no matter what.
>You hope she finds comfort in your words.
>And, for a while, it seems she does. She drifts off to sleep…as do you.
>You awake later. Fluttershy is still asleep next to you.
>She must be hungry, because you sure are.
>Sneaking out of the bed is easy enough. The television covers up most of the spring squeaks.
>How long have you been asleep?
>David Trotterman is on. It’s around 10 at night.
>You wipe the sleep out of your eyes. You grab your bag of groceries and creep into the kitchen.
>Fluttershy should be sleeping, but she also needs to replenish her body’s nutrient supply.
>You dig in her cabinet for a bowl to put some soup into.
>In Equestria, the can openers are really strange to accommodate hooves.
>After a struggle with the tool, you plop the mushroom soup into the porcelain.
>As the microwave warms the meal, you peruse the mare’s messy household.
>Trash, spoons, candles, vomit, poppy bits…
>There’s a stench to it all. Then again, ponys always did smell a little odd to you.
>Something stands out to you though.
>A large chef’s knife on the floor with a bunch of crumpled paper next to it.
>Curiosity gets the best of you.
>You kneel down and unwrap some of the pieces.
>Most of them have many lines scratched out, other are slightly decipherable.
>”I couldn’t go on without him”. “I filled my empty heart with these flowers.”
>One of them seems more complete than the others.
>It’s folded nicely, with “To Everyone” written on the face of it.
>You unfold the stationary. Tears have splotched the paper.
>”All my life I have followed my true calling of being the Element of Kindness; to seek out the good in every creature’s heart. I have made a lot of good friends in my life. But now, my own heart has been stolen by someone. He has captivated my love and piqued my interest ever since he arrived here.”
>It’s obvious who she means.
>”I truly thought that there would be a time when I could call him my own, but not now it seems. I am too far gone now, my friends. I don’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings with this. This was my choice. I have lost my way.”
>What is this?
>”I love you all. Goodbye.”
>At the bottom of the letter,
>”P.S. sorry for the mess.”
>It hits you like a bolt of lightning.
>Fluttershy couldn’t overdose. She ran out of drugs.
>The knife…the notes…
Fluttershy…
>The dinging of the appliance reminds you…
>She’s still here. You got here in time. It’s not too late.
>You open the door and reach for the bow-
FUCK.
>You grab a dish towel and take the hot soup to Fluttershy.
>Normally you’d have the soup cold, but maybe the warmth will be good for her.
>You sidle into the mare’s bedroom.
>She’s still in the same position you left her in.
>It’s dark, save for the dim light given off by the large television.
>You walk over to her and gently tap her shoulder.
Flutters? Hey…
>She opens her eyes slowly and looks at you.
>”Y-Yes..?”
Do you think you’d be up to eating something? Do you think you could keep it down?
>You present her with the bowl.
>She picks up the spoon and brings a small amount of soup to her face.
>Fluttershy stares at it.
>She doesn’t look like the presence of it will make her sick…
>More like…she’s remembering something.
>She smiles warmly at you,
>“Thanks for this, Anonymous. I really ap-appreciate it.”
Anytime.
>You return to her side on the bed.
>The soup slowly disappears as Fluttershy takes steady spoonfuls in her mouth.
>It’s good to see her taking in food for a change.
>You stare at the T.V. screen.
>The musical guest is a cellist pony, playing along a glasses-clad DJ.
>They seem to be having a really good time.
>”Anonymous?”
Yes?
>Fluttershy presents the empty bowl to you.
Wow, that was fast, Fluttershy. Someone must have been a hungry pony.
>You rub her stomach playfully.
>She giggles slightly at you.
>”Oh, Anonymous…stop…”
Jeeze, Fluttershy, you’re packing on the poundage.
>You pinch her stomach. You just pinch skin though…there’s little fat left.
>The two of you fall asleep together.
>Later in the night, Fluttershy is having an extreme craving.
>”Anonymous! G-Go to Zecora’s…NOW!”
Fluttershy I can’t do that. We need to get through this together.
>Fluttershy is pulling her mane and crying.
>”It hurts so much…”
>She’s pounding her hooves on the bed and screaming at the room.
>”Anonymous, I just need a little bit more; just enough to make the pain stop.”
Flutter-
>She latches onto you.
>”Anonymous, I have spiders crawling in my skin and a layer of sweat on my back I can’t shake off. I need my…m-my…”
>She’s breaking down.
>”Fix.”
>She’s rocking back and forth, biting her hooves to stifle the pain she feels.
>”Th-there m-might be some in the kitchen st-still…”
>You walk in to see.
>Sure enough, there’s a bowl with a spoon and some white crust in it.
>Opium.
>You have a choice this time. What do you do?