I knew mah mother hadn't been feeling well lately, but I didn't know it was so bad.
When Granny quietly came into my room late at night and woke me, I wasn't sure if I was still dreamin'.
"Applejack.... Your mother isn't doing well," she stifled a soft sob. "We're gunna go see her in the hospital."
I looked at the clock. I hadn't been asleep long. Maybe only three hours? It was almost midnight.
"Oh..." I looked away. It couldn't be too bad. They just took her to the hospital because she was doing just a little bit worse, right? "What about Apple Bloom and Big Mac?"
"Let's leave Apple Bloom asleep in her crib. Ah'll stay with her. You and your brother head over to the hospital. Your father is there too. Big Mac is waiting down stairs." She spoke in rising intonations as though to keep the mood light, but a certain dread and hoplessness in her voice only made me worry.
"Is mommy okay?"
She was quiet.
"...She's not well.... Big Mac will tell you..." And she turned and left into Apple Bloom's room. The door was closed when I went out into the hall, but I could hear her rockin' on her rockin' chair, probably with baby Apple Bloom cradled in her hooves and strokin' her mane. I heard suppressed sobs.
"Cm'along, Applejack." Big Mac's voice drifted up from below like a shock.
The night was cold and clear. The stars shone bright and created as much light as the full moon would if it were in the sky. Big Mac wrapped a scarf around my neck. It smelt like mommy.
"We can wait until mornin' to see her if ya want, Applejack. We can go see her first thing in the mornin'..." He stared up at the stars. His eyes were bright and wet.
"Uhhh...."
"It's alright... you can decide... I'll go with what ever you want to do."
I never heard Big Macintosh speak so softly before. His words fell like leaves instead of small gentle rocks. Instead of the same gentle confidence, it sounded almost hesitant.
I was already awake and I did want to see mommy.
"Brother? Is mommy gunna be okay?"
"No--" he choked. "No, little sis... she's....." He turned from the stars and I could see the tears in his eyes. "She's dying...."
I didn't get that. I'd never seen a pony die before.
"Granny told me the doctors said she has only a day or so before she...." Now he turned sharply away, repressing the warm tears.
I took in the smell of mommy on the scarf. No way she could leave us. Never. I don't know why he's so sad... I vaguely felt sad, but loss was something I was unaccustom to in my short life--at least concerning the loss of a family member forever.
"I wanna go see her now. I wanna see her tonight before I go to bed."
Big Mac didn't smile. "Alright. Let's go." His voice was placid. He waited a moment for me to step forward first.
We didn't walk through Ponyville to the hospital, but walked through some road that wound through a small forest--a short cut. Big Mac walked behind me the entire way, slow, draggin' his hooves, and starin' at the patterns of dirt, grass, leaves, sticks on the ground. He seemed tryin' to lose himself in it and forget the dread he was feelin'. I gazed at the stars and tress, mostly. I thought about what this would mean: mommy dying. I knew what death was--I wasn't no stupid filly--but... I guess I just didn't know what to feel... But, somehow, I musta. The way the star light fell and played on the trees' leaves... there was something ominous in it. There was some'in' sad in it too. That light would only be there a short while before it slipped away behind some of the approachin' rain-clouds.
The hospital was big. Big Mac slowly walked in, but as he took his time I looked around and marveled at the interestin' archetecture: the new windows and clean floors. But it soon struck how terrible silent the place was. It felt abandoned. It wasn't until we were on the fifth floor, were mommy's room was, that we even saw another pony. The first didn't look up from their desk, workin' at somethin' or other, or simply doodlin', bored. The second walked quickly past us, throwin' a strange, nervous look. The third stepped out of our way and gave a too happy smile before disappearin' into another room, lettin' the door close on 'em slowly with a echoin' click.
Pa musta heard us walking down the hall, 'cause he walked out of mommy's room and greeted us. He picked me up and hugged me, tears in his eyes. He felt so weak I thought he'd drop me. Then he hugged Big Mac, almost fallin' on him. I thought that wierd: Pa was bigger and stronger than him.
"You wanna say hi to Ma?" His voice trembled funny.
Pa slipped next to mommy, and held her hoof.
"Hun? Our kids are here to see you..." Mommy was lettin' out pitiful moans every breath. The room smelt like somthin' was rottin'. "It's okay.... She can hear you."
Big Mac seemed to understand right away, but I gave Pa a questionin' look and he said she was "unconscious;" which means she was really tired, I think.
Big Mac walked around the bed to see mommy's face. I could see his face turn white. His features contorted and he put a tremblin' hoof down on hers. She let out a painful moan, louder the the others, and then fell into the same rythmic moaning every time she breathed out.
Pa and Mac smiled strangely.
I walked around the bed so I could see mommy's face. It looked yellow and old. But not old like Granny's. It was more... swollen, but just as loose and wrinkly. Her eyes were half open and her mouth hung limp. I put my hoof down and was surprised that hers was so cold and soft, but I didn't show it.
"Say hi. Let her know you're here with her...."
"Howdy Ma..." Big Mac managed before he began shakin' all over and turned around cryin', leanin' on daddy.
"Hi mommy. You're not doin' so well, huh? Get better soon, mommy. I want you to be there to see me get mah cutie mark, kay?"
Pa smiled strangely. Big Mac's sobs became quieter.
I looked at her face closer. She looked in pain but as calm as though she were asleep. I removed my hoof. She took a deep breath and let out a quick, loud moan.
Just then, Aunt and Uncle Orange came in. They almost looked as though they were smilin'.
Big Mac got up and sat at the window sill and looked out at the fields below. I stepped back from the bed, thinkin' Aunt and Uncle Orange would wanna say hi to mommy too. But they just talked to daddy about what was going on instead of just lookin' at her lyin' there on the bed and seein' what was happenin'. Grown-ups are wierd sometimes.
I didn't understand all that they said, but I think I got the jist o' it. Big Mac sat and listened too. Still almost smilin'--their smiles felt more and more mockin' and insultin' the longer I stared at them and listened to them talk so clamly about mommy dyin'. It seems mommy was sick for a while--alot of the family knew--but no one did anything to help, too busy with their own lives. Apple Bloom's birth was hard, I guess.
If she was sick, why didn't anypony do anythin'?! I wanted to yell at 'em, tell them they souldda done somethin', but Big Mac stopped me with his hoof on my head and he let it slide off.
I walked around the bed to a board on the wall. Big Mac stood listening to what Pa was sayin' to Aunt and Uncle Orange; Aunt and Uncle Orange always replyin' in too happy tones.
On the board were blanks for the sick pony's name and hospital number and what was wrong with them and space for little faces to be circled: there was a part fer pain on a scale of one to ten with faces goin' from "very painful" with a sick frowny face to "no pain" with a big smiley face. That face looked so wrong with mommy in the room. Was she in pain or so "full of drugs" as I heard daddy mention that she felt nothing? No face was circled. There was written her name and arrival time. That's it. Everythin' else was blank. There was a space blank for personal goals for the day to feeelin' better. There was a space blank for sergery; for medicine; for doctors; for what makes the patient comfy--and everythin' else. There was a space blank for when the patient would leave.
Mommy won't leave.... It struck me then: mommy ain't gunna be leavin' this place!
My throat felt like it had a huge lump in it and my heart felt heavy. Mommy's not leavin' here... She's gunna die! I couldn't see... my eyes flooded with tears. I felt sick. It hurt.
I turned around to my aunt and uncle. Suddenly all they did was discustin' to me. They smiled at some word or two daddy would say; and then, seein' daddy's and Big Mac's sad faces, would fake a frown, like actors do when they wanna show they're sad. I knew they'd always talk about mommy as a "country hick," but why would they show up now of all times if that's what they thought? Just because mommy was mah aunt's sister?
I looked back at the clean, blank "leavin' time"... I wanted to cry... but still I couldn't! Why? Why cain't I cry?! Mommy was dyin'! The least I could do was cry--sob--feel somethin'! But I felt nothin' 'cept a strange sick feelin'. I didn't know what it was then.
I sat next to mah big brother on the window sill. He had went back to staring out at the fields. Mommy's faint moans continued rythically. The field was lit up in some lamp light from the hospital. For the death of one pony, even if it was mommy, the small-town hospital seemed enormous.
"Where will they take mommy when she dies?"
"Down into the basement. They'll burn her and bury her ashes. Just like she wanted."
The clouds covered the sky. A small bird darted across the fields, slowin' down slightly just before it disappeared into the leaves of a tree. The tree shook slightly and somethin' fell from it and into the field. Some of the grasses rustled and then were still.
"Dad," Big Mac turned away from the window. "Dad, listen to them. You should eat somethin'. You haven't eaten since yesterday mornin'. It ain't gunna help if you don't eat. Please."
Daddy smiled weakly and nodded.
It was late. Daddy was goin' to stay with mommy and eat somethin', but he said we should head home and sleep. We'll see her in the mornin'. Big Mac sighed and hesitantly agreed.
"Our kids are gunna get their rest back home, okay sweetie? They're gunna say good-bye...." Daddy was wisperin' close to mommy's ear.
Daddy motioned and I let Big Mac step next to mommy. He stared into her eyes for a momment. "Good-bye, mommy. We'll see you tomorrow." He leaned forward and hugged her long. "I... love you, mommy..." When he lifted himself up his face was streaming with tears.
I sat next to mommy and held her cold hoof. "We'll see you real soon." I wanted to tell her not to worry, that she'd be okay and see me get mah cutie mark. But I couldn't. "Good-night," was all I managed. I felt dizzy. I leaned forward and hugged her. The rottin' stench was powerful. It was coming from mommy's mouth. She was rottin' inside. "I love you mommy." My words felt too weak to express what I felt. I tried to stay hugging her longer, but after only a few momments the stench was too much and I sat up. I held mommy's hoof a bit longer. "I love you." Mommy smiled strangely. I knew the smile to be one of suffering. I let her hoof go. She started slightly, her moans became altogether louder and faster and more lively. She tried to sit up. She reached for me. Her breathing sounded painful. Daddy smiled strangely, tears in his eyes. He reached for mommy and tried to get her to lay down. As soon as he touched her, she soothed, and quickly fell into the same "unconscious" sleepiness. Her moaning became normal again. It was like she never had tried to get up.
Still my face was dry. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until my lungs hurt.
I don't remember much of what happened after that. I just remember feeling nauseous all the way home. I went to sleep pretty fast. I didn't dream. I woke up at six in the mornin'. A few hours late, just when were going to go see mommy again, Daddy came home. Mommy died at six in the morning.
Big mac and Daddy and Granny all fell on the couch and cried. I walked away, still no tears in my eyes, upstairs toward mah room. Apple Bloom was still asleep. I looked in at her in her crib; she was unaware of the loss our family was experiencin'.
I shut my door without a thought. My room felt empty. I drug myself to the window, and leaned against it. I looked out without actually seein' anythin'. Mah body hurt. I felt like throwin'-up. I thought about mommy and why I wasn't cryin' when everypony else was downstairs cryin'. I'd never see mommy again.... I never said "good-bye."
A single painful, blisteringly hot tear fell from my eye.
Author's Note
Details are lacking, only giving the minimum. Plot is thin. Characters are suggested. Emotions are hinted only. All like suggestive brushstrokes. It's a capracious, dreadful thing.
I don't expect this story to get many views, but it is a short story based off my own reflections of my aunt's death in October 2012, as simply as I can write it.
