Knock Knock
You look up. The loud knocking at your door has interrupted the peaceful reading session. You set the book you were reading down onto the coffee table next to you. The face of Daring Do, brow furrowed in determination, adorns the cover of the novel. You are somewhat ashamed of liking such foal’s fiction, but the book gives you an escape from your mundane life. Stories of grand adventures, heroic exploits, and comically bumbling villains never cease to pique your interest.
Knock Knock Knock
You break yourself from your thoughts and trot lazily to the door. The dull beige color of the door matches your personality to a “T”. The word “normal” could be used to redundancy to explain your life. You live a normal life, in a normal house, with a normal job at the supermarket, and a normal family.
Except, of course, for your mom-
You shake the thoughts from your head. It doesn’t need to be brought up right now. You extend a hoof and tug the door open. Staring back at you is a storm-cloud grey pegasus. Bubbles adorn her flank, and a sandy blond mane falls over her shoulders.
But that’s not what catches your attention.
Her eyes are absolutely... weird. You struggle to find a word for them, but weird is the only one that comes to mind. They seem to stare at two places at once, the goofy, cross-eyed stare peering not only at you, but also away from you. You resist shuddering at the sight not because you find it revolting but because it is simply so unusual.
“Special delivery!” Her voice is strangely peaceful. It is almost like hearing a foal speak. Her words are so innocent and gentle. You struggle to respond, desperately trying to think of something to say; you want to hear this mare’s voice again.
“Uh-thanks.” You want to fachoof for sounding so stupid, but restrain yourself.
The mailmare reaches under her wing and hands you a small envelope. "No problem! Just doing my job!" You want to giggle at just how bubbly this mare is. Maybe that's how she got her cutie mark.
You move to close the door, but the envelope you hold catches your attention. Thick, bold lettering stamped on the envelope reads
Canterlot General Hospital: Special Case Wing
Your heartbeat quickens. "No," you mutter loud enough for the mailmare to hear you. She turns and shoots you a questioning glance, but you hardly notice; you are too set on opening the envelope.
It's nothing. There's just a stupid issue with paperwork again. The doctors gave her six months, after all. You desperately tear at it with your teeth (having unicorn magic would help right now... such is the life of an earth pony), only stopping once you hear a reaffirming tearing noise. You throw the envelope to the floor and remove the contents with your teeth. You hurriedly unfold it and hold it up to your face.
All this with the envelope has distracted you from the mailmare, who is now standing in your doorway, a concerned look on her face. You have completely forgotten to close the door, or even to ask the Pegasus to leave. You are simply too focused on the letter to care.
You have a bad habit of reading things out loud. As your eyes begin to scan the paper, you absentmindedly begin to speak. "Good evening," you stammer to yourself. "We regret to inform that your mother-"
An icy chill runs down your spine. It feels like somepony has just poured ice down your back. You feel a bomb of numbness detonate in your head. For a split second, you feel sick.
"No... no this isn't right." you whimper. "They said she had six months." You don't bother to read the rest of the letter. You sit on your haunches, eyes darting furiously from side to side as tears begin to well up. "This is just... A mistake. Yeah, that's what it is: a mistake." You don't care if you are only trying to fool yourself. You feel tears begin to well up. "It's just a goof. They messed up the paperwork, that's all. Mom's fine."
You crumple the paper and toss it aside. That's when you notice that the mailmare is still there, leaning against the doorpost with a serious look of concern on her face. "Are you ok?" she asks in that sweetly soft voice.
"Wha-NO!" You suddenly feel angry. Angry at the doctors for lying to you. Angry at this pony for eavesdropping. Angry at the world for all that you've been put through. "I'm fine! Just honkey-bucking-dorey!"
Her ears droop, and her eyes uncross as they stare at the floor. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just thought-"
"Well you thought wrong!" Anger flares inside you for a brief moment like a fire inside of you, consuming your ability to think for a moment. As it subsides, you realize that you're hurting her feelings. Guilt washes over you like a tsunami, barreling over your floodgates and spilling out in the form of tears.
The mailmare turns around. "Oh... Ok. I'll just go-"
"Wait." your voice cracks. You need comfort. You need to hear her tell you it's going to be okay. "I'm sorry... I just- I just-"
You lose control. Tears flow from their wells. You convulse violently from sobs, curling up and falling to the side. You expect to feel your head hit the floor, but instead you only feel warmth envelope you. You force your eyes open to find the mailmare holding you in a firm yet soft embrace, her wings and arms entwined around you. You are a bit put off, but quickly recover as you bury your face into her mane and weep.
You don't care that you've never met this pony before. You need to confide in somepony right now. "My mom," you stammer in between choked sobs, "S-she was diagnosed with c-cancer." You spit out the word like it tasted foul. "The doctors... They said it was terminal. T-they gave her six months. That was four weeks ago."
Her eyes travel to the crumpled ball of paper at your side. Without breaking her embrace with her wings, she reaches over and grabs the paper with her forelegs. She uncrumples it and holds it too her face. As her eyes travel the page, they begin to tear up. She holds a free hand to her mouth to keep down a sob. "Oh my. I'm so, so sorry. I had no idea."
You smirk. "Yeah, neither did I." the fire of anger returns to you. Those stupid doctors said she had six months! "Those doctors lied to me. They lied!"
"Now, I'm sure they didn't do that. Maybe something went wrong-"
"NO!" you blindly lash out with your hind leg, connecting with the beige wall behind you. A satisfying thunk fills the room as you pull your leg from the newly formed hole in the wall. "Those incompetent bucking doctors lied! Is this some sick joke to them? I loved mom-"
At the mere mention of the word mom, you lose it again. You crumple into a heap in the middle of the doorway and weep. You never even got to say goodbye. That fact weighs on you most.
You feel a semi-familiar warmth around you again. You realize that the mailmare is hugging you again. This time you don't pull away. You pull her close and let all your emotion out into her shoulder. You cry like a foal, and she judge sits there rocking you and caressing your back. "Sh-Sh-Sh-Sh... It's fine... It's alright..." You've become desensitized to sympathy. The hospital staff gave you so many "Don't worry's" and "It'll be alright's" that you simply gave up caring. But this mare's voice... Her innocent sweetness gives the words new meaning.
You spend quite some time curled up in a ball, crying into the pony who you don't even know. It vaguely occurs to you how weird this must be for her, but the thought is pushed away by a memory of you and your mom walking in a park some warm spring day many years ago.
Eventually, the tears stop. Your body stops its convulsions, and you break the embrace. You stand up, shaking yourself slightly. You return your gaze to the mailmare. Her eyes are still crossed, one staring at you and one staring at the wall next to you. But the way they shimmer with understanding and concern make you feel that this pony really does care.
"Thanks," you mutter. "I know I must be a wreck right now. It's just-" your voice cracks again. "Thank you for doing all that. Y-you have a really pretty voice." You blush furiously, as does the mare.
"Thanks. Most ponies think I'm weird because of my eyes." those same eyes cloud over for a moment.
You lower your eyes and absentmindedly paw at the ground. "Well, I think they're perfect." At this you both somehow manage to blush harder. "Listen, I need to go to Canterlot and p-plan the funeral." you feel the pressure in your chest spike, and you feel more tears seep out of your eyes. "Thank you for being such an amazing pony..."
"Ditzy Doo." she extends a hoof, but you opt to wrap your legs around her and pulling her close to you. She inhales sharply in surprise, but quickly accepts the affection, resting her head on your shoulder.
Eventually, you pull away. "Thank you. I'll see you when I get back to town."
"I'll be here." you smile sadly as you close the door and begin to make your way to Canterlot. It's only a half a day's walk, so you'll have plenty of time to get there before night comes.
You know this is going to be tough. The loss of a loved one always is. But you also know that you have a new friend to help you through it. No matter matter how downright weird she is, she will be there, and that's what counts. She will be there no matter how ditzy she may be.
And that's what really counts.
