It was a gorgeous day by any standard. The pastel landscape, contrasted by the neon sky, shone brightly in the light of Celestia’s brilliant ball of burning gas. Everypony relished in the beauty of the day, simply soaking it in as they went about their chores and duties for the day. Almost cider season, the entire town looked forward to the following days, hoping the brilliance remained at least until then. The pony-folk wanted to bask with a cider in hoof, ready to contemplate life’s persistent questions, such as life and death, responsibility, and regret.
Rainbow dashed across the sky like a lightning bolt, dissipating a few clouds along the way. She truly felt alive with the adrenaline rush pumping through her cerulean wings and the wind combing through her multi-hued mane. She flew like this all the time, but it never got old for her. The pegasus truly belonged here. If she could, she would even be buried in the sky, where many famous pegasi lay. Meanwhile, she enjoyed life as it came.
Twilight was sitting in her library, as she did most of the time. This time, however, she was doing something that most ponies did not; she was attempting to write a short story. Most didn’t dare to do as such because, well…, they were not very good, they reasoned. Spike was taking a most deserved nap as the purple unicorn filled the trash can several times over. While he dreamed of Rarity and… ice cream landscapes, Twilight thought about what she wanted the story to be about. She wanted symbolism and similes, Twilight mentally noted. And death. Yes, that is what she wanted; death. It was a difficult topic to talk about, nevertheless write about, so in writing about it, she would immediately stand out if she did it well enough. In the meantime, the unicorn saw the death of many an idea.
Rainbow felt alive as ever as she spun down to the ground and spread her wings at the last second to give her some air. She brushed against the treetops and then proceeded to flair her wings as to soar back up into the peaceful skies of Equestria. The mare could only feel excitement as she went for yet another dive.
Applejack was bucking some apple trees for the upcoming cider season. After all, the Apple family wanted to make enough for the whole town, especially Rainbow Dash. That poor pegasus died a little on the inside each year as she didn’t get any cider, so they wanted to make sure there was plenty so she could get her cider thirst parched. The orange mare carried the apples to their doom inside the barn, where they would be judged, ground, and fermented until cider opener. Applebloom helped as well, doing any loose chores at might have appeared. Since the yellow filly often had large breaks in between jobs, she would stare up into the sky, watching as the occasional pegasus flew across her field of view, especially a certain daredevil she knew mainly from a close friend. The earth pony started to see a speck slowly and windily descend as she was interrupted by her brother. Applebloom reluctantly got up and walked back into the orchard with the rest of her family, ready to make another batch.
Rainbow did not know what hit her. One moment she was relishing in life’s glory, and the next she was fighting for it. It greatly confused her; her wing had never given out before. Not even the adrenaline was enough to fix it. She looked down as she spiraled towards the earth below. Her heart was racing as she tried to correct her decent, but it only made her spiral more violently, the G forces making her dizzy. How could this happen to her, she thought as she flailed towards her demise.
Fluttershy was feeding her animals. She loved them and each one was dear to her heart. The death of even one would crush her for weeks, especially if she had taken care of them. The light-yellow pegasus didn’t like to think about death, as she had a near miss with its kiss at a very early age. She somehow felt responsible for every death she knew, knowing that she could have prevented it. The animal whisperer looked up from her motherly duties only to see a peculiar sight; a dot spinning towards the ground. She was not able to imagine what it could possibly be, with death the last thing on her mind. She returned to her work, still thinking about that speck up in the sky.
Rarity put the finishing stitch in Pinkie’s tent. While the white unicorn despised camping, she appreciated the extra business. It was a slow week, but an exciting one at that; Sapphire Shores was due to put in another order for her next concert tour, so she could not wait for that. In the meantime, she had needed to fix the pink pony’s tent in time for cider season. What did Pinkie do to rip it into five pieces; Rarity tried and tried again to figure out, but came up empty. Instead, the fashion diva had performed her necromancy on the old shelter, raising it from whatever horrible doom it suffered at the hooves of Pinkie. She looked out her window, pondering her next project when she saw a blue point in the bluer sky. She shook her head, thinking she had imagined it. She still saw it; it was Rainbow doing one of her tricks. The designer thought that whatever the daredevil was doing, it did not look quite safe, but brushed it quickly off as Rainbow doing Rainbow things. The pegasus must know what she is doing, thought the unicorn, eager to get to work on a few new upgrades she just imagined for the tent.
Rainbow watched in horror as the hard ground quickly came closer to her fragile body. Still in a panic, she continued to flail her good wing until she was too tired to continue. Trying to push her eminent doom out of her mind as she fell, she pondered what made her wing go out. Did she pull a muscle? Was it an overabundance of adrenaline? Did Celestia want to teach her a lesson? Was it simply tired? She could not figure it out; honestly, she did not care anymore. The ground was, now, way to close for her liking, approximately 300 meters. Only a few seconds until the mare wondered no more.
Pinkie bounced around the bakery, getting everything ready for the “Cider Opener Eve Party.” She had baked delicious apple cakes and muffins and tarts and a variety of other apple flavored products. She looked at the decorations she had set up for the party and knew that Applejack especially would love them. Balloons and streamers littered the air above the open floor. Then, suddenly her tail started twitching. Pinkie was confused and scared, was Sugarcube Corner going to collapse? No, it could not, she reasoned, what would have made it fall? Then, what could be falling? Pinkie carefully trotted outside to inspect the sky, only to see nothing. Yet the twitching got faster and more frequent, then suddenly stopped. What had happened, Pinkie wondered to herself, could it be a false reading? That had never occured, but since the baker could not find any other explanation, she assumed that was all there was to it. Plus, Pinkie was awfully glad nothing bad happened.
The five gathered around the hospital bed. Silence enveloped the room like the darkness that was entering the room. The five mares could not believe what they were seeing, the mangled, torn, broken frame of their best friend. All bandaged up with no point, the line had gone flat minutes before. They were all crying, Fluttershy most of all, because their favorite blue pegasus was dead. She was gone. Twilight mostly looked on with awe, how could this have happened? How? Rainbow should have known what she was doing, right? The librarian was completely confused by the cerulean carcass that laid before her, her confusion slowly turning to anger. She was angry at Rainbow for being so stupid. She was angry at all her friends who had seen her as she was spinning. She was angry at Pinkie for ignoring her Pinkie sense. She was angry at herself for not paying attention to the pony that had occupied the empty frame before her. Twilight slowly walked out of the room before Rainbow was sent to the morgue, her anger balled up inside her. The other four followed suit.
The funeral was held on Cider Opener, as it were. Applejack didn’t get much business when she was at the stand; the town was too melancholic to do something as joyful as drink. The hope that the days would remain beautiful was slowly being regretted, as it seemed more mocking than anything. Rainbow lay in her grave, hooves crossed over her chest and eyelids closed, as if she was dreaming; as if she was dreaming of one last mug of cider.
Author's Note
Just a story I felt like writing...
Any and all comments and critics are appreciated...
Now, go read stuff deserving of views. (Ex: This)
Also, my favorite punctuation mark is the ellipses...