Stairway to Heavenby BrolkierChaptersStart from the topTake the first stepWhen you reach the bottomStart from the topNurse Redheart helped me out of my bed. I had asked her to help me do something. Something I thought I might never get a chance to do again. We walked out of the room, and she helped me make my way over to the top of the staircase. It looked so much taller now, than it did when I first came here. It was only a single flight of stairs, no more than 14 steps, but right now, it looked like it went on forever. I sat down at the top of the staircase, and pulled out my favorite childhood toy, one last time. My slinky. Nurse Redheart sat down next to me on the staircase. She knew why I wanted to come here, but she still had such a sad look on her face. I couldn't blame her, but she understood why I wanted to do it. I took a moment to look over my slinky. Its metal coils, springy movement, and cool touch. All were things that seemed to sum up my life so well. I loved my slinky, and I knew it was time to play with it just once more. I stood it up next to me on the stairs, making sure that it would have the proper momentum to continue down after I pushed it. I moved it back and forth a few times, before finally letting it go. I watched as it started to make its way down the stairs, and as it took each step, I remembered a different part of my life. /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ I was born into the loving hooves of a wonderful mother. She always told me that the way I bounced around so much while she held me as a foal, was what inspired her for my name. Spingy Step. My mother loved me very much, and played with me at every opportunity she had. My father though, was never there that much for me. My father spent his life working on the railroads of Equestria. He would go make repairs on tracks that needed them, and would even help in laying down new tracks, for destinations yet to be reached. He was always working late hours, and his job didn't bring him nearby home often. The few times when he did come home though, like when I first met him, were never that pleasant. The stress of working long hours, and back braking labor, made my father a very bitter stallion. The first time I ever saw him, I lifted my tiny hooves up to him, thinking he might pick me up, and hold me gently. Instead, he passed me by like I didn't exist, and nearly hit me when he tossed off his horseshoes that he wore when working. My mother had greeted him when he came in, and tried to tell him about his little foal, but he was too tired and cranky to listen to her, and instead collapsed on his bed. My mother tried to bring me over to him, but he shut the door behind himself, thus starting the pattern that I would come to recognize from him in my life. My childhood growing up was that of a normal filly. I would go to school, play with my friends, and help my mother out around the house. I always enjoyed every bit of it, and never wanted those days to end. I remember the proudest day of my life, was the day I got my cutie mark. My mother was trying to take some boxes out of the attic one day, and had asked me to help her. She would lower down a box, and I would take it from her, and set it on the ground. One box however, proved to be a bit too heavy for me, and when I went to grab it, I could feel it begin to teeter out of my grasp. I stumbled back a few feet, getting awfully close to the top of the stairs, and the box crashed next to me, its contents flying out. My mother called down to ask if I was alright, and I called back to her as I began to open my eyes. What I saw though, when I opened them, was the most amazing sight of my life. One of the things that had fallen out of the box, was a big metal spring. I watched as it waved back and forth at the top of the stairs, acting like it was going to fall down them at any second. I reached out with my hoof, trying to grab it, but accidentally ended up giving it just the push it needed to fall. I scooted up to the edge of the stairs, and watched it as it fell down the steps, end over end, seemingly effortless. It took each step one at a time, pausing slightly between each step, before continuing forward again. I was mesmerized by it. My mother came down to make sure I was alright, and was met by the blissful smile I had on my face. She looked on, as I continued to watch the spring go down the stairs, only to see my face turn sad, when the spring stopped at the bottom. Tears began to form in my eyes, since I didn't know why such a wonderful thing had stopped moving. As I began to sniffle, my mother made her way down the stairs, and retrieved the spring, bringing it back up to me. "This is called a slinky, Springy." She said to me, as she placed it next to me at the top of the stairs. I stared at the slinky, as I repeated its name aloud. I then lifted the top of it up, swaying it back and forth, like it had done before I pushed it, and then pushed it down the stairs again. It did the same thing it had done before, going down each step, end over end, before coming to a rest at the bottom. This time, I ran down the stairs to retrieve it, and brought it back to the top. I set it up again, and pushed it down again. My mother watched me, a smile on her face, as I continued to play with the slinky on the stairs. After about the third or forth time of sending the slinky down the stairs, my mother stopped me at the top, as I was about to go retrieve it once again. She told me to look at my flank, and that's when I saw it, my cutie mark. On my flank, was the image of a slinky, as if it was making its way down an imaginary step. I was ecstatic. I looked up at my mother, a huge smile on my face, before leaping into her hooves, giving her a hug. She told me how proud she was that I finally found my special talent, and how it seemed to symbolize me so much. She said it represented that no matter how many steps I would face in life, that I would take them one at a time, and enjoy them. It was something that I took to heart, and strove my best to live as in my life. No matter what life would throw at me, I would take it one step at a time, and overcome it. Take the first stepImages of my life continued to flow through my head, as the slinky took step after step. I remembered all the fun times that I had with my mother and friends as a filly. The interactions that I had with my father, as I grew older. And of course, all of the wonderful places that I took my slinky to. Watching the slinky go on and on, it felt like all of it had happened such a long time ago. If only it had. It had only been a few years after I finally matured into a young mare, that I ended up here. I still don't know how it happened, but I knew that it had to just be another step in my life. I was admitted here at the Ponyville Hospital just a few weeks ago, thinking that I was just going through some slight illness. I was wrong though. Whatever this was, it was like a disease that spread over my entire body. I was covered head to toe in green spots, which were all very painful to the touch, and made my life miserable to move around. It started off as just a few spots and posed me no problems at all, just some slight itching, but as the days carried on, it began to get much, much worse. I began to develop several different symptoms. Symptoms that none of the ponies at the hospital had ever seen together before. It was a complete mystery. They gave me the best care that they could provide, trying to treat as many symptoms as they could, but to no avail. My body and mind were getting weaker as the weeks rolled on. Eventually, I couldn't even get out of bed on my own, not without assistance. This was by far, the most difficult step that I was facing in my life, and as I watched the slinky continue, I thought back to other rough steps in my life, and how I had dealt with them. /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ Just like any other filly, I got picked on at school at one time or another. At first, it was because I had a blank flank. Then, it evolved to the other kids making fun of me, saying that I didn't have a father that loved me, since he was never around for me. Finally, it grew to everypony making fun of my cutie mark, believing that I was just a filly that only played with toys, and saying things like I would always just play with myself, instead of others. I got over them calling me "blank flank" when I got my cutie mark. I ignored them saying I had a father who didn't love me, by convincing myself that he was always just really busy. And I dismissed all of their remarks about my cutie mark and my life, as I eventually realized that I didn't care what others thought about me. The pain of all of it happening still hurt, but I always overcame it by taking one step at a time, just like my slinky. Eventually, I graduated from the school, and began to take my life into my hooves. I wanted to go out and see the world, and experience all there was to offer. It was this goal, that actually allowed me to finally get to know my father more. When I had finally been around him long enough for him to acknowledge me, I tried my best to fit myself into his life. I would see him off at the train station, and welcome him back if I knew he was coming home. If he had local work, I would stop by where he was working, and play with my slinky on the tracks that he and the other workers had already laid down. And whenever he had been given time off from work, I tried to get us to do things together as a family, in hopes of bringing us closer together. It all worked, but failed at the same time. Instead of getting a wave back from the train station, I would get a yawn as the train pulled away, and a thousand yard stare, as it pulled back into the station. Whenever I played on the completed portions of the train tracks, I would occasionally get yelled at by him, saying I was in the way of small carts that followed behind them on the tracks. And despite all my best efforts, my father never showed much care for the activities that I tried to get the three of us to do as a family. Instead, he'd either stick around till he got bored, and leave, or would go off and do his own thing, while my mother and I did what we had planned. No matter what though, I always took everything he did and said one step at a time. I figured that I would warm up to him eventually, and that some day, we would all be a loving, happy family. I continued to maintain that mentality, and lifestyle, as I got older and explored the world as much as I could. To me, life was a staircase, and just like my slinky, I valued and enjoyed every step of it. I climbed, and climbed, and climbed, facing every obstacle that came my way. At least, until the day came when I contracted this illness. I woke up one morning, and noticed when I looked in the mirror, that a couple of green spots had appeared on my body. I tried asking my friends about it, when I went about my day, and they all suggested that it might just be an allergic reaction to something, or perhaps some form of the pony pox. I didn't really think much of it at the time, so I tried doing my best to take care it. I should have known better. Days went by, and I began to notice that the spots were starting to spread, and that they were itching at times. It even got to the point, where the spots somehow affected my muscles under my skin, and made it painful to move at times. It was then, that I finally decided to go to the hospital, to see what was wrong. If I had just gone sooner, then perhaps things wouldn't have turned out the way they did. When you reach the bottomNurse Redheart checked my temperature, just like she'd done every other day. I didn't seem to be getting any worse, but I wasn't getting any better either. She and the other doctors had been doing their best to try and take care of me, since I had been at the hospital. They would attempt to alleviate me of one symptom one day, only to have another one seemingly come out of nowhere the next. It was a constant battle, and one that I seemed to be losing. While I still had the ability to move around without much trouble, I would make my way to the top of the staircase on the third floor. There, I would bring my slinky, and play with it on the stairs. On more than one occasion, one of the nurses would catch me, and bring me back to my room, telling me that I needed to stay in bed. I didn't want to though. I wanted to get out of there and continue living my life, or at least do something fun once in a while. However, as the illness gradually got worse and worse, I began to realize that I wasn't going to have much time to do any of that for long. All my life, I had been living by the thought that; life was a staircase, and I just needed to take it one step at a time, in order to overcome it. I was able to establish a problem, find a way to solve it, or work with it, and then move on. This however, wasn't one of those problems. I had no clue how this illness had started, and nopony could give me any clue as to what it could be. It baffled all the doctors and nurses, and left me feeling helpless. Had I known the cause, or what it was earlier, I would have been able to take the proper steps necessary to handle it, instead of waiting to find an answer. Come the second week, I had begun to actually lose hope. With nothing seeming to help me feel better, and the symptoms getting worse and worse, I started to wonder if this was going to be it for me. I knew that my mother was worried sick about me, and that all my friends were wishing that I got well soon. My father on the other hoof, I had no idea if he knew what was going on with me, or if he even cared. All my life, I had just been some face to him, not really meaning much to him, and probably not even mattering to him at all. I didn't hate him for it though, I couldn't. Despite how he may have treated me, or lack-there-of, he was still my father, and I would always love him. His work just prevented him from spending time with me, and getting to know me. I wouldn't want him to just abandon everything for me. Regardless of how it may have effected him, I knew that he was doing what he enjoyed. After the yawn I would get from him at the train station, I would see him smile as he rode off into the sunrise. Whenever I was playing on the tracks, he was always working harder than any other pony there. And even though he may have walked off almost every time that we did a family activity together, it was still the fact that he joined us to begin with, that I really appreciated. A couple of days ago, Nurse Redheart caught me once again, playing with my slinky on the stairs. This time however, she didn't immediately drag me back to my room, but instead sat down with me, and kept me company. She would even go to the bottom of the stairs, and retrieve my slinky for me, just like my mother had done when I was a filly. Eventually, after sending the slinky down a couple times, Nurse Redheart asked me about it. While she had seen a slinky before, she wasn't really sure what made them fun to play with. "It's a simple thing. You start from the top of the stairs, and push it down the first step. You watch as it goes from step to step, until it reaches the bottom. Then, you just start all over again from the top." I told her, as I pushed it down the stairs again. "What about if it doesn't reach the bottom?" She asked. That was a sentence that had never once crossed my mind before. In all my life, I had never seen my slinky unable to reach the bottom of the stairs. Even more so, I didn't know what could even cause something like that. I thought about it a little more, and I even began to think about it from my life's perspective. Throughout my life, I never thought about a bad ending to anything, or even being unable to see something through to the end. It was always just; establish the problem, find a solution, or a way to work with it, and then overcome it. There was never a halfway. All that aside though, I began to realize the truth behind it, and the questions that arose from it. What if it didn't reach the bottom? What if the ending it came to was not one that was supposed to happen? What could cause something like that? "I...I don't know." I told her. The slinky once again reached the bottom, and Nurse Redheart helped me retrieve it, before the two of us returned to my room. /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ While it seemed like forever to me, when I pushed the slinky down the stairs for the last time, the sad reality was, it all happened faster that I would have ever wanted it to. The slinky had only made it down a few steps, when I collapsed on the stairs. Nurse Redheart reached for me as fast as she could, trying to help me back up, and support me, but it was already too late. The slinky had stopped, barely halfway down the stairs, and with it, myself as well. I would never get to see it reach the bottom again. Never get to bring it back to the top, only to send it down once more. My life, just like that pile of springs, had stopped moving. As my beloved slinky had descended it's last flight of stairs, I traveled my own last staircase, ascending up into the unknown, never to reach the bottom again. Author's Note I hope you all enjoyed reading my latest "three-chapter one shot." I've been experimenting with different themes of writing, this one being my attempt on a tragedy. I don't know how my tears it generated, if any, but I hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless. Please feel free to comment if you have any advice, or opinions on what I wrote. I'm still trying to find what suites me best, and I value any and all input!
Start from the topNurse Redheart helped me out of my bed. I had asked her to help me do something. Something I thought I might never get a chance to do again. We walked out of the room, and she helped me make my way over to the top of the staircase. It looked so much taller now, than it did when I first came here. It was only a single flight of stairs, no more than 14 steps, but right now, it looked like it went on forever. I sat down at the top of the staircase, and pulled out my favorite childhood toy, one last time. My slinky. Nurse Redheart sat down next to me on the staircase. She knew why I wanted to come here, but she still had such a sad look on her face. I couldn't blame her, but she understood why I wanted to do it. I took a moment to look over my slinky. Its metal coils, springy movement, and cool touch. All were things that seemed to sum up my life so well. I loved my slinky, and I knew it was time to play with it just once more. I stood it up next to me on the stairs, making sure that it would have the proper momentum to continue down after I pushed it. I moved it back and forth a few times, before finally letting it go. I watched as it started to make its way down the stairs, and as it took each step, I remembered a different part of my life. /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ I was born into the loving hooves of a wonderful mother. She always told me that the way I bounced around so much while she held me as a foal, was what inspired her for my name. Spingy Step. My mother loved me very much, and played with me at every opportunity she had. My father though, was never there that much for me. My father spent his life working on the railroads of Equestria. He would go make repairs on tracks that needed them, and would even help in laying down new tracks, for destinations yet to be reached. He was always working late hours, and his job didn't bring him nearby home often. The few times when he did come home though, like when I first met him, were never that pleasant. The stress of working long hours, and back braking labor, made my father a very bitter stallion. The first time I ever saw him, I lifted my tiny hooves up to him, thinking he might pick me up, and hold me gently. Instead, he passed me by like I didn't exist, and nearly hit me when he tossed off his horseshoes that he wore when working. My mother had greeted him when he came in, and tried to tell him about his little foal, but he was too tired and cranky to listen to her, and instead collapsed on his bed. My mother tried to bring me over to him, but he shut the door behind himself, thus starting the pattern that I would come to recognize from him in my life. My childhood growing up was that of a normal filly. I would go to school, play with my friends, and help my mother out around the house. I always enjoyed every bit of it, and never wanted those days to end. I remember the proudest day of my life, was the day I got my cutie mark. My mother was trying to take some boxes out of the attic one day, and had asked me to help her. She would lower down a box, and I would take it from her, and set it on the ground. One box however, proved to be a bit too heavy for me, and when I went to grab it, I could feel it begin to teeter out of my grasp. I stumbled back a few feet, getting awfully close to the top of the stairs, and the box crashed next to me, its contents flying out. My mother called down to ask if I was alright, and I called back to her as I began to open my eyes. What I saw though, when I opened them, was the most amazing sight of my life. One of the things that had fallen out of the box, was a big metal spring. I watched as it waved back and forth at the top of the stairs, acting like it was going to fall down them at any second. I reached out with my hoof, trying to grab it, but accidentally ended up giving it just the push it needed to fall. I scooted up to the edge of the stairs, and watched it as it fell down the steps, end over end, seemingly effortless. It took each step one at a time, pausing slightly between each step, before continuing forward again. I was mesmerized by it. My mother came down to make sure I was alright, and was met by the blissful smile I had on my face. She looked on, as I continued to watch the spring go down the stairs, only to see my face turn sad, when the spring stopped at the bottom. Tears began to form in my eyes, since I didn't know why such a wonderful thing had stopped moving. As I began to sniffle, my mother made her way down the stairs, and retrieved the spring, bringing it back up to me. "This is called a slinky, Springy." She said to me, as she placed it next to me at the top of the stairs. I stared at the slinky, as I repeated its name aloud. I then lifted the top of it up, swaying it back and forth, like it had done before I pushed it, and then pushed it down the stairs again. It did the same thing it had done before, going down each step, end over end, before coming to a rest at the bottom. This time, I ran down the stairs to retrieve it, and brought it back to the top. I set it up again, and pushed it down again. My mother watched me, a smile on her face, as I continued to play with the slinky on the stairs. After about the third or forth time of sending the slinky down the stairs, my mother stopped me at the top, as I was about to go retrieve it once again. She told me to look at my flank, and that's when I saw it, my cutie mark. On my flank, was the image of a slinky, as if it was making its way down an imaginary step. I was ecstatic. I looked up at my mother, a huge smile on my face, before leaping into her hooves, giving her a hug. She told me how proud she was that I finally found my special talent, and how it seemed to symbolize me so much. She said it represented that no matter how many steps I would face in life, that I would take them one at a time, and enjoy them. It was something that I took to heart, and strove my best to live as in my life. No matter what life would throw at me, I would take it one step at a time, and overcome it.
Take the first stepImages of my life continued to flow through my head, as the slinky took step after step. I remembered all the fun times that I had with my mother and friends as a filly. The interactions that I had with my father, as I grew older. And of course, all of the wonderful places that I took my slinky to. Watching the slinky go on and on, it felt like all of it had happened such a long time ago. If only it had. It had only been a few years after I finally matured into a young mare, that I ended up here. I still don't know how it happened, but I knew that it had to just be another step in my life. I was admitted here at the Ponyville Hospital just a few weeks ago, thinking that I was just going through some slight illness. I was wrong though. Whatever this was, it was like a disease that spread over my entire body. I was covered head to toe in green spots, which were all very painful to the touch, and made my life miserable to move around. It started off as just a few spots and posed me no problems at all, just some slight itching, but as the days carried on, it began to get much, much worse. I began to develop several different symptoms. Symptoms that none of the ponies at the hospital had ever seen together before. It was a complete mystery. They gave me the best care that they could provide, trying to treat as many symptoms as they could, but to no avail. My body and mind were getting weaker as the weeks rolled on. Eventually, I couldn't even get out of bed on my own, not without assistance. This was by far, the most difficult step that I was facing in my life, and as I watched the slinky continue, I thought back to other rough steps in my life, and how I had dealt with them. /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ Just like any other filly, I got picked on at school at one time or another. At first, it was because I had a blank flank. Then, it evolved to the other kids making fun of me, saying that I didn't have a father that loved me, since he was never around for me. Finally, it grew to everypony making fun of my cutie mark, believing that I was just a filly that only played with toys, and saying things like I would always just play with myself, instead of others. I got over them calling me "blank flank" when I got my cutie mark. I ignored them saying I had a father who didn't love me, by convincing myself that he was always just really busy. And I dismissed all of their remarks about my cutie mark and my life, as I eventually realized that I didn't care what others thought about me. The pain of all of it happening still hurt, but I always overcame it by taking one step at a time, just like my slinky. Eventually, I graduated from the school, and began to take my life into my hooves. I wanted to go out and see the world, and experience all there was to offer. It was this goal, that actually allowed me to finally get to know my father more. When I had finally been around him long enough for him to acknowledge me, I tried my best to fit myself into his life. I would see him off at the train station, and welcome him back if I knew he was coming home. If he had local work, I would stop by where he was working, and play with my slinky on the tracks that he and the other workers had already laid down. And whenever he had been given time off from work, I tried to get us to do things together as a family, in hopes of bringing us closer together. It all worked, but failed at the same time. Instead of getting a wave back from the train station, I would get a yawn as the train pulled away, and a thousand yard stare, as it pulled back into the station. Whenever I played on the completed portions of the train tracks, I would occasionally get yelled at by him, saying I was in the way of small carts that followed behind them on the tracks. And despite all my best efforts, my father never showed much care for the activities that I tried to get the three of us to do as a family. Instead, he'd either stick around till he got bored, and leave, or would go off and do his own thing, while my mother and I did what we had planned. No matter what though, I always took everything he did and said one step at a time. I figured that I would warm up to him eventually, and that some day, we would all be a loving, happy family. I continued to maintain that mentality, and lifestyle, as I got older and explored the world as much as I could. To me, life was a staircase, and just like my slinky, I valued and enjoyed every step of it. I climbed, and climbed, and climbed, facing every obstacle that came my way. At least, until the day came when I contracted this illness. I woke up one morning, and noticed when I looked in the mirror, that a couple of green spots had appeared on my body. I tried asking my friends about it, when I went about my day, and they all suggested that it might just be an allergic reaction to something, or perhaps some form of the pony pox. I didn't really think much of it at the time, so I tried doing my best to take care it. I should have known better. Days went by, and I began to notice that the spots were starting to spread, and that they were itching at times. It even got to the point, where the spots somehow affected my muscles under my skin, and made it painful to move at times. It was then, that I finally decided to go to the hospital, to see what was wrong. If I had just gone sooner, then perhaps things wouldn't have turned out the way they did.
When you reach the bottomNurse Redheart checked my temperature, just like she'd done every other day. I didn't seem to be getting any worse, but I wasn't getting any better either. She and the other doctors had been doing their best to try and take care of me, since I had been at the hospital. They would attempt to alleviate me of one symptom one day, only to have another one seemingly come out of nowhere the next. It was a constant battle, and one that I seemed to be losing. While I still had the ability to move around without much trouble, I would make my way to the top of the staircase on the third floor. There, I would bring my slinky, and play with it on the stairs. On more than one occasion, one of the nurses would catch me, and bring me back to my room, telling me that I needed to stay in bed. I didn't want to though. I wanted to get out of there and continue living my life, or at least do something fun once in a while. However, as the illness gradually got worse and worse, I began to realize that I wasn't going to have much time to do any of that for long. All my life, I had been living by the thought that; life was a staircase, and I just needed to take it one step at a time, in order to overcome it. I was able to establish a problem, find a way to solve it, or work with it, and then move on. This however, wasn't one of those problems. I had no clue how this illness had started, and nopony could give me any clue as to what it could be. It baffled all the doctors and nurses, and left me feeling helpless. Had I known the cause, or what it was earlier, I would have been able to take the proper steps necessary to handle it, instead of waiting to find an answer. Come the second week, I had begun to actually lose hope. With nothing seeming to help me feel better, and the symptoms getting worse and worse, I started to wonder if this was going to be it for me. I knew that my mother was worried sick about me, and that all my friends were wishing that I got well soon. My father on the other hoof, I had no idea if he knew what was going on with me, or if he even cared. All my life, I had just been some face to him, not really meaning much to him, and probably not even mattering to him at all. I didn't hate him for it though, I couldn't. Despite how he may have treated me, or lack-there-of, he was still my father, and I would always love him. His work just prevented him from spending time with me, and getting to know me. I wouldn't want him to just abandon everything for me. Regardless of how it may have effected him, I knew that he was doing what he enjoyed. After the yawn I would get from him at the train station, I would see him smile as he rode off into the sunrise. Whenever I was playing on the tracks, he was always working harder than any other pony there. And even though he may have walked off almost every time that we did a family activity together, it was still the fact that he joined us to begin with, that I really appreciated. A couple of days ago, Nurse Redheart caught me once again, playing with my slinky on the stairs. This time however, she didn't immediately drag me back to my room, but instead sat down with me, and kept me company. She would even go to the bottom of the stairs, and retrieve my slinky for me, just like my mother had done when I was a filly. Eventually, after sending the slinky down a couple times, Nurse Redheart asked me about it. While she had seen a slinky before, she wasn't really sure what made them fun to play with. "It's a simple thing. You start from the top of the stairs, and push it down the first step. You watch as it goes from step to step, until it reaches the bottom. Then, you just start all over again from the top." I told her, as I pushed it down the stairs again. "What about if it doesn't reach the bottom?" She asked. That was a sentence that had never once crossed my mind before. In all my life, I had never seen my slinky unable to reach the bottom of the stairs. Even more so, I didn't know what could even cause something like that. I thought about it a little more, and I even began to think about it from my life's perspective. Throughout my life, I never thought about a bad ending to anything, or even being unable to see something through to the end. It was always just; establish the problem, find a solution, or a way to work with it, and then overcome it. There was never a halfway. All that aside though, I began to realize the truth behind it, and the questions that arose from it. What if it didn't reach the bottom? What if the ending it came to was not one that was supposed to happen? What could cause something like that? "I...I don't know." I told her. The slinky once again reached the bottom, and Nurse Redheart helped me retrieve it, before the two of us returned to my room. /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ /)(\ While it seemed like forever to me, when I pushed the slinky down the stairs for the last time, the sad reality was, it all happened faster that I would have ever wanted it to. The slinky had only made it down a few steps, when I collapsed on the stairs. Nurse Redheart reached for me as fast as she could, trying to help me back up, and support me, but it was already too late. The slinky had stopped, barely halfway down the stairs, and with it, myself as well. I would never get to see it reach the bottom again. Never get to bring it back to the top, only to send it down once more. My life, just like that pile of springs, had stopped moving. As my beloved slinky had descended it's last flight of stairs, I traveled my own last staircase, ascending up into the unknown, never to reach the bottom again. Author's Note I hope you all enjoyed reading my latest "three-chapter one shot." I've been experimenting with different themes of writing, this one being my attempt on a tragedy. I don't know how my tears it generated, if any, but I hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless. Please feel free to comment if you have any advice, or opinions on what I wrote. I'm still trying to find what suites me best, and I value any and all input!
