The end was here.
This was it
I could feel it. It raced through my bones and set the hairs on my neck on edge. My nostrils flared with its sulfuric smell. There was no mistaking this for what it was.
But there was one mistake in my words.
One simple mistake.
But it made all the difference. To me, to my sister, too all those I hold dear and to all those I might have once known.
The end wasn’t fresh. The end didn’t rear its ugly head just yesterday. I didn’t wake up in Ponyville this morning, heart racing, wondering what was going on.
This is all I have ever known.
This world is all I have ever known and it is all I will ever know. As far back as I can recollect things have been this way. My sister and I are one of the few that can say this though. I’ve heard the older ponies talk. They tell us stories around burning carcasses about days when the only fires would be ones used to roast marshmallows, or the fire in a young pony’s heart as they tasted their first root beer. I look at them with empty eyes. These stories….that’s all they are. I have nothing to feel for them.
I too once held memories bright with color in my heart but those days are gone and are never coming back.
“Pound?”
A tanning hoof wrapped itself around me and I sighed. I got so bitter when I thought about it. If I didn’t have her by my side…my Pumpkin…My sweet Pumpkin. My only reason to stay sane these days. But some days she’s as lost as I am.
“She’s not coming back.” I croak.
“She promised. She’s going to come. Once more, for me?”
Pumpkin’s eyes glisten like no others. They hold hope even the elders can’t understand. On the darkest nights I can see her staring off into the empty night sky, the only light to be seen coming from sparks shooting off her horn. It’s more than what most can produce but the pain I see…I can’t stop her dreams though.
“Once more?”
I cave under her gaze and unclasp the bag hanging around my neck. The last of our coins barely make any noise in their cloistered confines.
“Once more, Pumpkin, once more.”
A moistness spreads down my cheek as the bag falls to the ground with a clunk.
“Pumpkin?”
Raising a hoof to dry my eyes I lose sight of my sister but when I look she’s still there. In this world anything could have happened in those few seconds, that’s what I tell myself. She’s bending down to grab the bag and I sigh. It’s all my imagination, I have to quit worrying.
I start to laugh. Imagination, that’s all life is. It has to be imagined…
I must have closed my eyes again because I find myself fighting to open them against thick crusts. I fight to get to my hooves. I couldn’t have fallen asleep. It wasn’t that late. I can’t sleep now. I have to look out for my sister. I can’t let anypony harm her.
My chest explodes as it feels as if a thousand heated needles were suddenly thrust into my heart. I fall back down from my half way standing position gasping for air. A pony can’t live like this. Not in a world like this, like Equestria. It’s madness.
And then I see it. The flare of yellow that reminds me why I keeping pushing on. The dawn of the sun. One of the few miracles left for ponykind. The only one I can savor day after day. The only reassurance I have that I am alive and need to stay that way.
It was time.
Laying at my feet was my bag from early, now devoid of any coins. I don’t see my sister but if she misses this it is her fault. I repeat that to myself quietly as I take out the new contents of the bag. It’s her fault, all her fault, not mine, I can’t do anything. The wetness comes back to my eyes as the chant changes, becoming louder, leaving my thoughts and entering my mouth.
“I can’t do anything, I can’t do anything right.”
A singular red circle is all that I can get out of the bag. It’s the last. Just like everything. I stop my chant to bring it to my mouth. Slowly it blooms in my hooves. It is getting harder by the day to inflate the balloons, but soon I won’t have to worry about that. So soon.
Tying it off is always the hardest part. Half the balloon disappears in my grasp as I attempt this. I curse, knowing how much Pumpkin would disapprove of this if she could hear me. Pumping the balloon back to its former glory takes almost all of the air out of my lungs. I almost lose control of it, coughing as I was. But I can’t waste it. Just once more, I promised.
I promised.
The sun is showing even more now, nearly half way. I have to do this soon. Dawn is the only time. Dawn is when it matters.
There was a cliff, that was right. Pumpkin picked this spot. She told me when we found it that she had never before seen such an unobstructed view. That smile broke my heart.
Standing now at the cliff’s edge I prepared to release my captor. Tears were falling freely now but I couldn’t feel them anymore. There was nothing left to be felt. My hooves fell to the ground and the balloon raced away. If I could only follow its carefree path.
I took a step forward.
Then another.
“There are nothing I could do.”
Another step and the dirt beneath me crumbled.
“I’m sorry, Pumpkin.”
There was nothing under my feet but I didn’t stop.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Pinkie.”
I kept my wings at my side. The burning in my chest had returned.
“I did this for you. I’ll be there soon.”
“I’ll get to see you again.”
Overhead the balloon, among many others like it, continued it journey as one of the many mysteries ponies will never solve.
