A Walk Down the Road

by Nagi is probably dead

Rating: teen
Tags: Anthro, Dark, Sad, Tragedy
Length: 1754

You done it. You've finally killed Rainbow Dash. Now you ask, "Why?"

No more annoying smugness. No more lack of personal space. No more brashness. No more thievery. No more dreams. No more Rainbow Dash.

She's been the bane of your existence, and she's finally gone. You met her at the park tonight, and you brought a knife. Now, you're walking down the sidewalk toward your house, that knife forever stained in blood. What have you done?

Warning, spoilers below!

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-10-01 13:10:01 UTC

You Did This

                                                                          11:00, October 1

          It's done. You did it. You killed her. You killed Rainbow Dash. Finally, after all of this year. This damn awful year. No more Dashie. It brings a smile to your face, just thinking about it. No more blue-skinned fucktard barging into private conversations. No more waking up in the middle of the night to find her right outside your bedroom door. No more broken windows, missing possessions and annoying, "Hey, watcha' doing?" It amazes you how beautiful death is. Especially death brought forth by the blade you carry. Looking down at it, you see the crimson blood reaches the hilt. What a shame to have such a wonderful knife stained by such a horrid color, you think. And yet, death is still just as beautiful.

                                                                          10:45, October 1

She should be here any minute, you think. You reach your hand to your waist and grasp the handle of the knife you carry, mediating on what you were about to do. It'll be worth it, your mind says. And the dreams will stop. You wince. The dreams are becoming more frequent. And they were always the same. It would start with you walking, anywhere really. You would get close a shed or closet of some sort, and go inside. RD would be there, and you two would, well, have fun. But right at the end, before the big finish, she would turn on you, always with a knife, and your screams would carry into the waking world. No matter what you did, you always died in those nightmares.

          You hear the bushes rustle behind you, and someone laughed. Sounded like Dash. You turned around and there she was, holding a knife of her own. She laughed again, and you rushed at her, all the pent-up anger strengthening the blow to the neck with the blade in your hands. Red haze flashed before your eyes, and then, you had a body in front of you. But you didn't care about that minor detail, you were too busy laughing.

.                                                                         11:01, October 1

          You try to imagine the things that would be said tomorrow at your high school. What were Rainbow Dash's friend's names? Right, Applejack, Rarity, Twilight, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy. Fluttershy would be tramatized, no doubt. Good. It'll be punishment for all the times she's tried to stick up for that bitch. Rarity and Applejack would want to know who did it. And when they ask, you'll just laugh. Laughing makes everything better, doesn't it? Twilight would have her nose buried in a book, and then her friends will say, "Twilight, why are you still reading?", but she wouldn't care. All she cares about are books. Then I'll come up and show her my knife, and say,"-

          You're approaching someone on the sidewalk. They call out to you. "Hello, Ra-" they stop short when they see the blade you carry. You grin at them and inspect the object of their gaze in the moonlight. You see your reflection in the red surface. You study yourself for a few seconds, and turn back towards your aquantaince. They seem to have dissappeared. A shame, as it was a beautiful night to be walking, and walking alone was never more fun than having a companion. Companions would listen to the laughter. And laughter made everyone a little happier.

.                                                                        9:00, January 2

          You didn't get much sleep last night. You had been too busy writing your newest novel. You smile to yourself, thinking that all of that work would be worth it when people began reading your Haven 22. The Apacolypse always grabbed people's attentions.

          However, your thoughts were interrupted by your high school teacher, Ms. Cheerilee, calling for your attention. You look up, and see a cyan girl with a rainbow-colored mane. Cheerilee was asking if you would show Ms. Dash around school, and you were happy to oblige. Maybe I can boost my cred with this. Who wouldn't want to show someone who could do a Sonic Rainboom around? you think.

          So, the day went by as usual, with the exception of you answering any questions she had, occasionally pointing out the gym, the track, the cafeteria, the athletics field. Your day sped by, so fast that you didn't notice the occasional nervous glance she gave you.

          "And that's your typical Monday," you said to her as you exited the building.

          "Um, Anon?" she asks. You raise an eyebrow. It's the first time she's spoken up in a while.

          "Thanks for showing me the school. I think I'm going to have a great year." She smiled wistfully.

          You smile back. "And what makes you say that?"

          "I think I'm going to make some great friends."

                                                                       11:02, October 1

          Your steps falter for just a bit. What did I see in her back then? You pause, thinking over your answer. I saw a cute girl that I could use to get popular for an hour. That's it. I didn't know what she was like.

          This is the second time you've stopped on your steady plod home, the first to look at your knife. This time, you inspect it again, but it looks different. Your crimson-tinted reflection doesn't look as tough as you thought. You saw a look of pain in those eyes, pain that can only be expressed when someone close has died. You shake your head, and start walking. But the thought you keep pushing to the back of your head still persists. Was it really the right thing to do?

                                                                            11:30, July 23

          Cloudkicker's party was in full swing, and you were sitting in the corner, shirtless and completely drunk. You watched through half-closed eyes as the cyan pegasus approached you. She joined you on the couch, observing the general chaos before her. Vynil's sound system was going to keep the party going past midnight, and people who should not be dancing were giving it their best shot.

          The girl next to you reached an arm up and rested it on the back of your neck. She leaned her head against your shoulder. "So, are you liking the party?" she asked, attempting to start some small talk.

          "It's not as good as that one at Caramel's last month," you say. "But this is pretty cool if you ask me. The music could use some work."

          She cocked an eyebrow. "You don't like dubstep?"

          "No, but if I had my iPod, I could show you what I do like."

          "Where's it now?"

          "Back at home. My charger went missing a week ago, so right now, it's powered off."

          Dash smiled a knowing smile. "I might have had something to do with that." She reached into her pocket and removed your charger.

          Had you not been drunk, you would have responded with anger, but mostly alarm, as she was able to sneak into your bedroom without you noticing. But instead, you just grabbed for it. She was easily able to hold up her hand to ward off the weak attempt. "Not so fast. I'll let you have it, on one condition."

          "What's that?" you ask, eager to get your charger back.

          Dash smiled again, knowing she had ensnared you in her trap. "Know any good restaurants?"

          That night was the best of your life.

                                                                                11:03, October 1

          You leaned against a street lamp, bewildered as all fuck. What had you just remembered? Why had you remembered it? As you thought, it steadily came back to you. You two had left the party and stopped by the best 24-hour pizzeria you could find. You had talked most of the night, and when you questioned why she kept laughing during their conversation, she told you that "Laughing makes everyone a little happier."

          Eventually, one of you had asked, "Your place or mine?" That really threw you off guard. I did her? What the hell? But why didn't I remember any of that? The realization dawned. It must have been the alcohol or something.

          After that night, you didn't remember anything, and you always rejected the rainbow-haired pegasus when she approached you. Then things started disappearing around your house. That made a lot more sense now. As well as the fact that she was sometimes just outside your bedroom door. As well as her constant interest in your life.

          It was then that you became conscious of the weight in your hand. For the third time this night, you looked at the knife that you held in your blue hand. And this time you were horrified. You threw the foul thing into the bushes and flew back home. The thought entered your mind that you should not be able to fly, being a unicorn. You also realized that your hand should not be blue. But you dismissed them both.

          As you sprinted down the road, wailing sirens reached your ears. It was then that you remembered the person you met on the road and showed the knife to.

          They say that you never really come back from insanity. Yore're not sure that statement is true. Maybe you was insane when you killed Dashie. Maybe you weren't. But that doesn't change the fact that you killed her.

Dashie, if you can hear me now from Heaven, I ask for your forgiveness. I killed you, and I deserve to die myself. You were an angel, Dashie, and you deserved longer. You were beautiful, the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and I marred that pretty face of yours with that knife. I'm sorry, Dashie, I truly am. Please forgive me, please, forgive for what I did to you for the past year. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

                                                                             11:03, Oct. 1

          Rainbow Dash ran down the street, the police right on her tail. The words were repeating over and over. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

What have you got to be sorry for? You're the victim, and I'm the villain after all.

That's odd, you thought sleepily. Why is the ground so far away? Looking down, you see the space that you just were, now occupied by a rainbow-blur. Was I inside of Rainbow's body? You looked up, and felt an unfathomable sensation touch him, filling him to the brim with joy. And why do I see Heaven? I'm a murderer, I should be seeing Hell.

          It's true that murder dooms you to eternity in Hell. Being murdered, however, recieves no such consequence.