My Little Dashie 2: Daddy's Comin' Home

It's been seven years. Seven whole years since I've seen my daughter in person. The only things I have to remember her by are our pictures. I still live on the farm, selling whatever crops I can grow for my basic living salary. Only one problem - the weather. Ever since Dashie was taken home the weather just got worse and worse as my depression got stronger and stronger. Most nights I cry myself to sleep, clutching an RD plushy I bought. That's the closest thing I can have to seeing her again. A stupid little plushy that can't even reply to my questions or call me Dad.

I've made a few friends online. Losing a daughter gives a guy a lot of spare time. A few guys tried to sympathise with me, saying they wished they could have a pony of their own too. They'll never understand though. How could they? I still remember the day I found her...

:-: I was stopped by something unusual; a stray cardboard box in the middle of the sidewalk. Now, living in this kind of area I see trash all the time. Boxes, McDonalds cups, and plastic bags litter the streets and empty fields, but rarely will I see a cardboard box that isn't crushed in one way or another. I noticed this particular box because it happened to be in my way. During my younger years, I tried to do what I could for the community. I'd pick up trash when I saw it, or I'd attempt to help my neighbors. It was a losing battle. Now-a-days, I'd given up any hope of cleaning this city, much less my neighborhood. Now I'll just pass the trash by, letting it blow away in the breeze or sit there and decompose. I let what's left of the "people" do their own things, since most of them don't care about anyone other than themselves. Why should I be any different?

I walked past the box, barely giving it a glance. Nothing about it caught my attention right away. I continued on, my home not far away now. Upon arriving, I sat down down and played some games, attempting to push the box out of my mind. I had little luck, as the box somehow managed to push it's way back in. Time crept on by, and I soon found myself wanting to go for another walk. I left the house and started down my usual route when I stopped. What was it about that box that made it stick out in my mind? I turned around, starting down the path I had taken to get home, the path that I only walk once in a blue moon. Curiosity got the best of me, and I wanted some closure.

Within minutes I found it, still sitting there, sad and alone among the broken concrete and over-grown grass. It didn't move, it didn't stand out as if it were special. It was an ordinary, brown cardboard box. I didn't want to say I came out here for nothing, so I walked closer to it. As I drew closer, however, I began to notice something inside. It was brightly colored, multiple colors in fact, and was quite small. Maybe the size of a few month old Labrador puppy.

I stopped beside the box, and looked down at the colorful blob inside.

This is where I currently stand: looking into the box at a small... something. No, I know exactly what it is, but my brain isn't allowing me to fully realize it just yet. At first I want to say it's simply a toy, left to die along with all the other things in this block. But then I saw it breathing. In fact, it appears to be sleeping. My hands are sweating, my breathing erratic, and I'm blinking my eyes trying to refresh my vision.

Each time, the image stays the same. Inside, is a sleeping... filly... Rainbow Dash. :-:

I sighed for the seven hundred and fifty three thousand, two hundred and seventeenth time. I kept a tally book, tracking it from the day she left. It's just one of the many things I do to try and fill the void in my heart.