Tilly limped off to the edge of her saferoom before giving a peep and scuttling back to her corner. She hadn’t left the place in a very long time. All day, every day, the same thing played on the television: Blocks of colors swirling around the screen with relaxing music playing. The joys of FluffTV and the normal programs where fluffies played with one another or sang songs now made her screech terribly. If she so much as caught a look at another fluffy, real or not, it sent her into hysterics and made her nervously bite at her own legs. Said legs had been fixed the best the doctors could, though it had cost her mummah lots of money. And she still couldn’t walk so well.
The Forever Foal had been left in a debilitating state of nervousness after the attack. Her entire body trembled even while at rest, eyes flitting about the room as if to search for something that wasn’t there. Mummah had brought her to lots of people to help but it never worked. Nor did any of the medication slipped into her food.
“Munstahs…munstahs…Tiwwy babbeh su scawed…” The pink & white mare whispered to herself all day and night. What little time she could have to sleep was quickly broken apart by waking up with screeches, peeps, chirps. Most objects had been replaced in the room after she kept claiming there were monsters hiding behind shelves or block toys.
Tilly knew somewhat of what her mummah was going through. Her and daddeh often yelled at each other. They yelled so much now that it only added to her nervousness, getting so bad that any food she ate felt like acid which came up in a slurry.
“Nu…dun wan poopies…stay in, bad poopies!” The mare cried, the tears streaming freely as she was curled up on a blanket. Messing her diaper (which she actually needed now more than ever) was an act of pure misery. The stallions had torn her apart, and now the simple act of using the bathroom was torture. She shrieked and banged her hooves against the floor until mummah showed up. Mummah was more tired looking. There were dark things under her eyes and she always smelled like burny wawa. After getting Tilly cleaned and changed into a new diaper, she set out a large cardboard box to the floor. “I love you, Tilly, baby. I’m sorry.” Instead of trying to explain what was going on, the mare was gathered up and placed into the box. It wouldn’t be long in there. She wouldn’t die of exposure. The woman just needed a break.
“Nu! Nu! Mummah! Tiwwy am omwy widdle babbeh! Pwease! PWEASE!” The mare screamed and tried to knock her way out of the box. So dark, so scary. This was where the munstahs were. They would get her again. It would hurt all over again. “Tiwwy wuv yew! Wuv su su much! Tiwwy sowwy ‘fo bein’ hurtsies! Tiwwy bad babbeh!”
The box was loaded up and Catherine drove to the fluffy clinic with tears running down her face. It would only be a few hours until the opened up. She couldn’t surrender the mare herself. Shame, guilt, whatever you call it. The overworked placed the box down in front of the clinic door along with a note.
‘Hi. My name is Tilly. I was hurt very badly and have severe emotional problems. My mummah loves me very much but can no longer afford me. She is very sorry’.
That was it. Catherine would get back in her car and be done with the entire situation. The daycare hadn’t shelled out any money for her treatment, they had only refunded her initial deposit. That was it. There wasn’t a goddamn thing she could do legally about it, either. Her companion had been gangraped and they treated her like someone who hadn’t received all of her items on a fast food order.
“Mummah! Mummah!” Tilly banged and slammed at the cardboard box for awhile, and it had started to rain. The water weakened up the material, causing the top of the box to fly open. Head poking up, the mare scrabbled out from the top and began to scurry as fast as her broken then mended legs could get her.
She went from place to place, trying to be brave. “Mummah! Tiwwy hewe! Yew foget Tiwwy!” From a park to an empty storefront, nosing against the glass window.
The rain which had continued to fall made her feel weary, the diaper she was wearing now sagging from being so wet. Eventually she made it to an alley and found a box, scurrying underneath it.
“Huuhuu…babbeh miss mummah…HUUUUU!” She cried and carried on but didn’t realize the dark shadows looming in front of the box or the sounds of hooves falling. Before she even know what was going on, something had grabbed her out by the mane which had finally grown back fully. Tilly shrieked, meeting a group of hungry and excited eyes.
“MUMMMAAAAHHHHHH!”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
People wanted a conclusion so there you go. She has PTSD, a mangled body, her mother goes financially destitute and into depression, nothing happened to the daycare. And just so nothing is left ambiguous, that was a gang of alley smarties who proceeded to rape her to death. 
