A Purposeful Passing

The short trip to Big Mac’s house took longer than expected. The road we took seemed familiar but it was hard to tell exactly where we were since all the land was covered in a thick blanket of road. But none of it mattered to me, all I could think about was my sister. Memories of us together began flooding into my head. My conscience drifted off into memory as I continued walking.

I remember when I was little, about four years old, I would hide in the cabbage patches and she would come looking for me every time. She would find me most times but I was able to get away from her a few times. When I was five she began to homeschool me on most of the basic stuff. Like how to read, write, do math, all the stuff you learn to do when you’re in Kindergarten. I enjoyed every moment of it; it wasn’t often I got to spend time with her since she was always working the farm. When I was six and finished with my basic education, she began teaching me how to run and manage the farm. Getting eggs from chickens, milking the cows, harvesting crops and even trading with our neighbors. The one neighboring farm we traded with the most was the apple orchard that out ranked us. I don’t remember much of the trading skills she taught me since I usually played with a young filly that was about a year younger than me. I don’t remember her name but I do know she had an orange coat and a blonde mane and tail. Seven was when she began teaching me basic financial stuff, since it was around that time that we began leasing off land. That one never got through to me since it was pretty complicated. But I guess she wanted me to be prepared as best as I possibly could since I would probably end up helping out around the farm.

At seven and a half we were kicked off our land and into the street. That’s when I didn’t see her as much as usual. She was always looking for work to make sure we had some food to eat. She would take on two to three jobs a day just to get a decent meal. There were some nights that I wouldn’t see her until very late or until the next morning.

My conscience comes back to reality when we arrived at our destination. The path split off to an arch with a bunch of dormant branches wrapped around it. Hanging from the top of the arch was a big piece of wood with a giant, apple-shaped hole in the center. “Welcome to Sweet Apple Acres,” Big Mac said.

“I know this place,” I said under my breath. I wasn’t quite enough since Big Mac could hear me.

“How do you know this place,” he asked me with a puzzled look.

“I used to come here with my sister to trade our crops for bits. I used to play with a young filly here as well.” I looked around the farm taking in all the familiar sites. I remember to the chicken house, the barren corn field, and the numerous apple trees that seemed to go on for miles. But the site that stood out the most was the unique barn like house.

“Did this filly have an orange coat and a blonde mane and tail,” Big Mac asked.

I turned around to look back at him. “Yeah, is she…”

“My sister Applejack, she’s the one that I told you about. Like I said she’s not here, she hasn’t been here in the past two and a half years.”
This puzzled me. Why hasn’t Applejack been back to see her family in two and a half years, not even to visit? Whenever we were together she would was very family orientated. She would always listen to her mother and father, never complained about any family troubles, and she even exclaimed her excitement about having a new baby sister. What made her want to leave? I was about to ask Big Mac why but he just continued walking toward the house, another time I guess. I followed behind him as he lead me to the front door.

He opened up the door and welcomed me in. The front door lead to the living room, it was a nice warm environment. There was a green couch to the right of the room, a rocking chair in the upper left corner, and an old antique stove to upper corner. The walls were painted with bright, fall like colors and had family pictures hanging from the walls. There was a set of stairs that lead upstairs to left and at the upper wall of the room was a doorway that lead to the kitchen. In the kitchen I heard hooves clicking around and I there was an aroma trailing from the kitchen that smelled like an apple pie being baked.

Big Mac shut the door behind us and that’s when a voice came from the kitchen. “Big Macintosh, is that you?” The voice sounded like an old mare’s voice.

“E’yup,” was all Big Mac answered.

The hooves came clicking toward the doorway. Coming through the doorway was an old mare with a green coat, white mane and tail both bound up into a bun, and she had an orange and white-spotted neckerchief around her neck. Her eyes went directly to me the minute she walked in. “Well hello youngin’, who are you,” she said in kind and hick voice.

I was hesitant to answer; I’m not exactly the most social colt you will meet. Thankfully Big Mac answered for me, “Granny this is Sharp Edge, he’ll be staying with us for a little bit.”

“Sharp Edge,” Granny Smith looked as if she was trying to remember me, “Oh yes, you’re Butternut’s little brother. I remember when you and your sister would come over and you and AJ would always play together. How is your sister doing these days?”

That one question made me feel the most awkward and uncomfortable I have ever been in my entire life. How am I supposed to answer that question?

“Uh Granny, we need to talk in the kitchen,” Big Mac and Granny Smith began walking toward the kitchen. “Just make yourself comfortable Sharp Edge,” he said turning back to me. I walk over to the couch that was right by a set of stairs and sat myself down.

The two were talking for what felt like an hour. I only hoped that Granny Smith could be reasonable to let me stay. She seems like a nice lady but that was only first impressions. She could be insecure and not want random street ponies coming into her home. She could be insensitive and closes off her home to those who are desperate.

My train of thought is interrupted when I hear the small clicking of tiny hooves walking down the stairs. Coming out from around the corner was a really small filly, probably no older than four or five, with a yellow coat and a bright red mane and tail. She had a magenta bow in her hair that seemed almost twice the size of her head. She noticed me the second she was down the steps. She walked up right to me and stared at me with a big smile and even bigger eyes. “Hi,” she spoke in a squeaky hick voice, “I’m Applebloom, who are you?”

“Uh, I’m Sharpedge,” I answered awkwardly. It was pretty uncomfortable to be stared at with those eyes.

“I’ve never seen you here before, where are you from,” she said persistently.

“I’m from Ponyville, I live in town.”

“Really? I’ve been to Ponyville many times and I’ve never seen you there before.”

“Uh…well I--”

“I really like your mane, it’s very pretty,” she said while playing with my white mane, quickly changing the subject.

“Thanks,” I answered.

“So where are you REALLY from,” and we’re back to awkwardness.

“Um, I am from--”

“Applebloom, quit making our guest feel awkward,” said Granny Smith as she and Big Mac reentered the room.

Applebloom jumped off the couch and ran back up the stairs; I will probably never understand that fillie’s energy. Big Mac and Granny Smith both looked at me. “Alright Sharpedge,” said Big Mac, “Granny Smith and I have decided that you can stay for as long as you want.” My eyes widened and my heart leaped with joy, my days on the street were finally over. “We’ll let you stay if you help us around the farm, we could use the extra hooves.”

I jumped out of the couch and onto my hooves, “Thank you so much, I will work as hard as I can. You don’t have to train me either, my sister taught me everything.”

“Well that’s good,” said Granny Smith, “I’m happy that you’ll be staying with us Sharpedge.”

“Come on Sharpedge,” said Big Mac, “Let me show you to your room.”

Big Mac began walking up the stairs and I followed him up there. He lead me down a long hallway to a door at the end. Inside was a single sized bed in the upper left corner with its sheets untouched, a night stand with a lamp on top next to the bed, a dresser on the right side of the room with a window above it, and a tall mirror stationed to the left of the dresser. “This is our guest room, we don’t use it very often so pardon the dust all over the place.” I didn’t care about the dust, I was just so happy to finally have a bed to sleep in and not a concrete slab anymore

“Thank you for all this,” I said, my eyes began to tear up and I got a little choked.

“I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes; we’ll start work tomorrow by selling produce in town,” said Big Mac, “winter won’t be over for another two weeks. So be ready to go by 10:00 AM tomorrow.”

I nodded in response and Big Mac left me alone in the room. I couldn’t believe that I was finally living in a house. After three years of living on the streets, I’ve almost forgotten what being in a house is like. I walked over to the bed and felt to comfort of the sheets. The texture was something I haven’t felt in a very long time. If only my sister could’ve lived to see this day.

Just like that my happiness turned back into depression. My thoughts of what could’ve been if my sister had survived. She could be here with me and not stuck on the streets. She could finally sleep in a real bed and not in some alley. She finally be able to have food in her stomach and won’t have to steal to get it. If only she had survived.

Eight months have passed since I was taken in by the Apple family. Since then, I’ve grown rather fond of them. Granny Smith has been the sweetest old mare I have ever met. We always find a new thing to bond over every day, from apples to some of the most random topics you can think of. Applebloom has almost considered me her second older brother, she remind me of myself when I was her age. She will run around out in the orchard and try to have some fun with me while I’m working. Big Mac is like a big brother to me now. He is always there helping me and supporting me. He has taught me new things about running a farm and has even trusted me enough to let me manage my own section of the orchard. I definitely feel like I’ve become part of the family. But it wasn’t long before a member of the family returned to Sweet Apple Acres.

One afternoon, I was working on my part of the orchard, bucking the trees of their fruit. I was a little less than half way done when I noticed a figure walking up the path that leads to the front entrance. My section was a on a hill so I was able to see the figure clearly. Although, I couldn’t make out who he, or she, was. I was able to make out the orange outline of the figure. I then saw Big Mac come running out of the house and stopping half way to the figure. The two just stood looking at each other for a second and then ran at each other hugging one another. He then brought the figure inside the house. I figured it was probably a close friend of Big Mac that he hasn’t seen in a while.
Once I got my cart full of apples, I strapped up and haled the cart back home. I stopped in front of the silo and was about to unload until I heard Applebloom yelling from the window. “Sharpedge, come inside quick,” she shouted. Her head shot back inside quickly. I trotted to the front door and went inside. The first thing I was a young mare with an orange coat and a blonde mane and tail, sitting on the couch by the stairs.

“Applejack,” I questioned. She turned her head and saw me standing at the door.

“Sharpedge,” she questioned in response. She got up from couch, came over to me, and gave me a big hug. “My goodness I thought I never see you again,” she pulled back from her hug and got a good look of me, “You look almost like that same gray coated colt I used to play with, except you’ve gotten pretty big, Big Mac working you hard?”

I was little surprised she knew that, “Yeah, how did you--”

“Oh they’ve been telling me about how you’ve been staying with them and helping out on the farm. Woo wee, you’re bigger than a Fillydelphia Eagle left tackle.”

I always loved those little isms, “You haven’t changed a bit AJ.” She smiled at my comment

“So why did you start living here, I thought you and your sister had your own?”

When will that question ever stopped being asked? My heart began to sink when she asked that. I don’t want to relive that moment again, not after I just got over it. “I better get back to work,” I responded. I walked out the door and headed back to silo to unload the cart. My mind was swimming with memories of that day. I tried to block them out as best I could. I don’t want to return to that time. I’ve worked too hard to get over myself and I’m not about to let eight months of progress go to waste.

I unloaded my cart and went back to my part of orchard to finish bucking. I continued to buck until the sun was nearly fully set. I had about four to five trees left buck and then I could end the day. I walked back to my section after my eleventh trip? I’ve lost count after about three round trips. I continued to buck the trees and the apples fell right into my cart. I was almost done when I heard Applejack call my name from nearby, “Hey Sharpedge,” she said. I looked back and saw her standing there giving me a small, gentle smile.

“Hey AJ,” I said as I continued to work.

“Sharpedge, they told me about what happened to your sister, I’m so sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault, there’s no need for an apology.”

“Yes there is, I shouldn’t have asked you about your sister.”

“You didn’t know she was gone, it’s not your fault.”

“Sharpedge--”

“Look AJ, I know you’re trying to make me feel better about the whole ordeal but my sister died eight months ago. The last of my family is gone and I’m alone now, I just have to accept that.” I bucked the last tree and the apples fell into my cart.

I was about to make my way back to the farm until AJ stopped me by saying, “That’s kind of a ridiculous philosophy to live by.”

“Easy for you to say, you still have your siblings and your grandmother. You still have a family.”

“I didn’t always think that.”

Confused, I dropped my cart and turned around to look at her, “what do you mean?”

“You wanna know why I left for Manehattan? It’s because of this farm.”

“This farm? But what can be so negative about the farm that made you want to leave? Didn’t like the lifestyle?”

“No I loved being a farm filly, but this used to be my parent’s farm. They built their life on this farm and worked it every day. But they died when I was six leaving me, Granny Smith, Big Mac, and little baby Applebloom. I took their death the hardest. My ma and pa meant the world to me, losing made me feel more alone than ever. Just being here was too much for me because I couldn’t help but think of them every single day I lived here. That’s why I went to Manehattan, to start over.”

“So what made you come back?”

“After about three years living with my Aunt and Uncle Orange, Manehattan just didn’t feel like home. Every night I would always look out my window and wonder what Granny and Big Mac were doing right about then. It wasn’t until I realize that I had to go home, my parents may be gone but I still have my family.”

Then right from behind her, a small light flashed from behind. AJ turned her head back and saw on her rump were three bright red apples. She had got her cutie mark. I was a little surprised and also happy for her. AJ on the other hoof was thrilled beyond comparison. She jumped up and down all around me and rushed back to the house to show the rest of her family her new cutie mark. I strapped the cart back onto my back and continued to walk back to the silo. I was proud for her getting her finally getting her cutie mark. She used to talk about how cool it would be someday to get her mark when we were kids. I used to be excited about getting a mark too but I lost interest in it real quick after all of the events of my past. But I still think it would be kind of neat to have one. What would it look like though? Maybe like a sword or, even better, an axe. That would be so cool.

Later that night, I was lying in bed trying to go to sleep but for some odd reason I couldn’t. I kept tossing and turning in my bed, my eyes wide open unwilling to shut. I tried counting sheep, drinking water, staring at the ceiling, everything. It wasn’t until around 2 o’ clock that I finally drifted off into sleep. Then I found myself inside the worst dream in my entire life.

I found myself in an area of pitch darkness. I couldn’t see anything, not even my own hooves. I looked around to see if I can find even the slightest hint of light. Then I heard a voice whisper from the darkness. “Sharpedge,” the voice called. It was a female voice and it had a haunting tone to it, making me feel very uncomfortable. The voice kept calling out to me saying my name over and over again.
“Who are you,” I shouted in response.

There was no response. Suddenly, a cold wind came out of nowhere; the chill crawled up my spine like spider. The wind grew stronger and eventually snow came with it. A full blast of wind and snow was given; I covered my eyes from the snowflakes. When I uncovered my eyes I found myself inside a dark alley that seemed very familiar. I looked around the area, calling out, “is anyone around here?”
I looked down the alley and saw a figure, not far from me, lying down on the ground. I walked towards it out of curiosity. The closer I got, the more familiar it became. When I was near the body, I found out that this wasn’t any random body, but the body of my sister. Seeing her like this again over whelmed me with sadness. My knees gave way as I fell to ground crying. Suddenly, she leaped up at and grabbed my throat between her two hooves.

I could fully see her face now. Half of it, the left side, was fine, it was still her normal white coat, silver mane and blue eyes. But the right side was half decayed, maggots crawling in and out of her skin, there was no eye in her socket, blood dripping from her face, and bone and muscle is visible. I was scared beyond belief. She opened her mouth and began to speak with a raspy voice, “why didn’t you help me?”
I woke up shooting up right, screaming my head off as though I were being murdered. My body is covered in cold sweat and my breath is completely gone. I heard heavy footsteps running towards my room. Big Mac came barging in with a look of extreme concern on his face. “Sharpedge are you alright? What happened,” he said. I was so shocked I couldn’t get a word out, whatever did come out of my mouth was complete gibberish. Big Mac walked over and held me in his hooves to calm me down. “It’s ok, it was only a dream.”

But it wasn’t just a dream, it felt real, it was real. I have never been so scared in my entire life. I couldn’t comprehend why that happened. I got over her death after eight months. So why is she coming back to haunt me?