Aft

When you wake, you spend a good five minutes just staring at your ceiling, listen to the gentle hush of rain falling outside. You're warm, it's Saturday - you don't have to be anywhere, don't have to speak to anyone. It's a nice feeling, one that you rarely get to enjoy. Maybe you'll finish that book you've been reading, curl up next to the radiator with a blanket. You are cheerful as you sit up in bed, untangling yourself from your thick comforter - and freezing in place as you see the pristine white unicorn sitting in the easy chair by your window. She is busy writing in a small notebook, and does not look at you as she intones "Good morning."

You're very tempted to throw your alarm clock at her, before she raises her head and offers you a muted smile. You think better of it.

"Diamond," you near-grunt, scowling at her. "Or whatever your name was."

She seems pleased that you remembered, because she closes her notebook and stashes it in her coat, giving you her full attention. "Well done! What else do you remember?" Her tone is slightly condescending. It only makes you more irritated. You turn back to the alarm clock that was almost a weapon, dragging a hoof down your face as you go. It's almost 11; you slept for far too long. Your good mood has completely vanished, along with any hope you had of a peaceful, solitary day at home.

"Fuuuuuuck," you slur.

"Language, Twilight."

You ignore her, and totter your way sleepily to the attatched kitchen to make yourself a strong cup of coffee. Your head already hurts. Diamond seats herself comfortably at the island, polishing her glasses with a small silk cloth and otherwise leaving you to your business. After several long moments of silence, invaded only by the soft gurgling of the percalator behind you, you say "Why are you still in my house?"

Diamond raises her glasses with magic, peering at the light through the glass to ensure they are pristine, before setting them on her face. You get the distinct feeling she considers your question far too stupid to dignify answering, so you turn back to your coffee and strain yourself to remember something - anything - she had told you the previous night. Something about your imminant demise, and your soul?

"Getting warmer," comes Diamond's voice from behind you. Again, you ignore her.

As your coffee finishes percolating, you come to the conclusion that Diamond isn't real, and is a stress-induced hallucination that will disappear if you relax. It soothes you somewhat, quashing down the rising panic in your chest. You pour your coffee, adding only a small measure of milk, and relish as the warmth spreads from the mug to your hooves. You inhale the aroma, and are beginning to feel a little more normal when Diamond tuts. "I expected better from you," she says, as you make your way to your living area and sink into a couch. She claims the recliner opposite and studies you over the rims of her glasses.

Though you try your utmost to pretend she isn't there, a small part of your attention remains affixed to her as you nurse your coffee and stare at the TV before you. There's a cartoon on you're not really enjoying, as it features a lot of rather annoying whip sound effects. They grate against your patience, but you pretend to be invested in the program. Diamond watches you, only blinking occasionally, and from the corner of your eye you see her expression is calm and calculating, her brilliant blue eyes dulled somewhat. While she is lost in thought, the program released several particularly-irritating whiplash sounds, and you promptly change the channel. Diamond huffs out a small sigh, and murmurs "This may be more difficult than I first thought."

Leaning forward and resting her chin on her forehooves, she studies you very closely and intensely, and speaks slowly. "Why do you think I am here? I would like to see you formulate your own answer."

Though you itch to answer something rude, you carry on pretending she doesn't exist. Diamond continues anyway, as if she is speaking to herself.

"I know you are afraid, but you are running from your problems instead of confronting them. You have always done this. It is not right. They always come back in the end, do they not? You can never escape them."

In your head, you snap at her that she doesn't know your life, and are aware of how childish that sounds. You're glad you didn't say it out loud. You take a gulp of your coffee and try to pay attention to the nature documentary on the TV. Lemurs sure are weird-looking.

Anger contorts her features for all of a second before she's out of the chair with unnatural speed, her mane flying about her face.

"Very well. Since you have made it clear you do not intend to listen to me, I shall show you the exact consequences of ignoring me," she says harshly, and her eyes blaze with fury. Space around you shimmers, like a water ripple, before tearing and melting away into inky blackness. You are still holding your coffee cup as you squeeze your eyes shut, a sinking feeling of vertigo overtaking you.

When you open them again, you and Diamond are standing in an entirely-monochromatic world, devoid of sound or wind. It is an abandoned neighborhood that you don't recognize, with broken windows and torn door hinges. An air of misery and stillness clogs your nose and throat, as if time has stopped completely on the crux of some awful event. You are sitting in the middle of a road with cracks like canyons, the tarmac beneath you hard and uncomfortable. Not a single thing around you is alive. You didn't even jolt. Oddly, it feels as though you have been sitting here forever.

"There are things," the tall unicorn says from beside you, "that you cannot ignore." She looks down at you, impassive, though a hint of irritance still gleams in her eyes.

You open your mouth to deny something, anything, but you know this is real. The dread you feel is too pressing. You do not belong here.   "Why are you showing me this?" you manage to choke out, holding your mug close, clinging to the only scrap of reality you still have. "What is this place?"

Diamond simply starts walking down the empty, cracked road, without looking back at you. It takes you a moment to find your balance, but when you do, you hasten to follow after her. She is calm now, if not a little wistful. "This is where you shall end up, if you do not set your life in order during your final month. It is a place where the soul goes to be judged, and occasionally, to disappear into the void if it is not at peace. This is a purgatory, and it will be your final resting place, should you take no action to prevent it."

As you pass by the ruined houses, you catch glimpses through doorways; of beds containing ordinary-looking ponies, sitting around staring into space, as if lost. Their colours are muddy and dulled, their eyes vacant, but their faces are troubled - waiting. A violent shiver travels up your spine. Diamond follows your gaze.

"They are those who have been here the longest. They do not see each other, nor their surroundings. It is a terribly lonely fate, to be trapped forever in one's own mind."

The clicking of your hooves on the road echoes strangely in the open space. Diamond's pace does not make any sound. She has retained her colour, a bright splash of white and purple in a mess of gray. Not even you were fortunate enough to escape the murky filter of this unsettling world - the hoof you keep securely around your coffee mug is as grey as everything else.

"This is horrible," you whisper, moving closer to her. "Who would ever dream of such a place?"

Diamond hums absently in response.

"It is what it is, and it exists because it is necessary." She leads you through a broken gate to what once may have been a park, but is now full of countless headstones. "Souls that were resigned to the aether. They could not find peace, and therefore could not be judged." You stare at them blindly. The taller unicorn allows you a moment of reflection, before she says "Have you seen enough?"

You nod slowly, almost comatose, and Diamond once again submerges the landscape in darkness. Colour floods your vision, overwhelming your senses. You feel dizzy and sick as you return to your living room, but a chill remains on your skin and refuses to leave with your shaking. Across from you, back in the chair, Diamond sits stiffly and regards the coffee table solemnly. When she speaks, it is still in the softer tones. "You have only a month to live, and there are issues you must sort before you go, lest you leave a long trail of suffering in your wake. You need not do it alone. This is why I am here. Do not shirk my assistance, for I will be here whether you insist on ignoring me or not." This final statement tears your eyes from the wall to her in disbelief.

"Why? What do you want from me? Why do you know these things about me?" Your own voice sounds frenzied and slightly crazed to your ears, and you clutch your coffee cup closer like a lifeline. Diamond's shoulders sag, and she leans back in the chair once more.The action, though it should be inconsequential, seems oddly resigned, as if Diamond is not enjoying this any more than you are. Indeed, you notice that her forehead has become creased with distress, and feel a sudden surge of guilt and anxiety. It's real. You don't even believe in the afterlife, and you know it's real. You're going to die in a month's time.

You wonder if Diamond is Death itself.

"No," she says quickly, "I am merely an agent. What I want is for you to pass peacefully into utopia, where you belong. That is my job. The state your life is in at the moment will prevent you from doing that. There are people you must make amends with, decisions you must make. I came here to help you in that regard, and when the time comes, to collect your soul and ferry it beyond. That is all." She seems relieved to have told you this, for a tiny smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, and the lines on her forehead recede a little. You process this sluggishly, staring into the brown dregs of your coffee as if they contain the answers you want. 24 hours ago, you were fine. You had no idea your days were limited. Fear and irritation rise in your throat like bile. "It's far too early for me to die," you say, as much for your benefit as for hers. Diamond says absolutely nothing to combat or confirm this, merely waits for you to continue.

"I.....it's true there are people I really should contact. Square out old fights, rekindle lost friendships. I've been meaning to, but......it never seemed like the right time, and......."

"Do not be afraid, Twilight Sparkle. It is not too late."

"....and I figure I should do it sooner rather than later." You nod to yourself. "I will allow you to help me."

"Excellent."

"But I have no intention of dying nor allowing you to collect my soul."

She shrugs. "Baby steps. Acceptance is a journey, not a destination."

"You ought to quit being professionally spooky and get into the travel guide business."

Diamond looses an abrupt and short laugh, which shocks you so badly that you start, and what's left of your coffee threatens to slop over the rim. Her eyes sparkle with mirth. "Perhaps," she says with a proper smile this time. You feel emotionally drained, though you can't have been awake for longer than an hour - but as you look over at your kitchen, you see the time on your microwave indicates that many hours have passed. Sure enough, the sun is setting behind the cloud cover outside your window when you look. Asking Diamond occurs to you, but you are honestly so afraid of what you just experienced that you decide to let it lay. You don't really want to know more about what just happened. Your companion seems to sense this.

"You will not have to face that place we visited. Not now that you have accepted my help," she attempts. To her credit, it does comfort you a little.

"Now, onto business." From her coat, Diamond withdraws what appears to be a folded piece of paper. It unfolds in her hooves, extending into a list. "Here is recorded the people you must contact and settle your affairs with, as well as other things you must do to ensure your soul's safe passage beyond purgatory." The list is long; you can see the relatively small hoofwriting as the gloomy, dying light from outside shines over her shoulder and through the paper. "That many?" you ask incredulously.

Diamond smiles wryly. "Your silence has hurt a lot of people who once called you dear, Twilight Sparkle."

You grumble, and she laughs again. A pattern is emerging and you don't like it one bit. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."

Diamond uses her pale blue magic to re-fold the list. "We shall begin tomorrow. For now, I imagine you must be rather shaken. I will leave you for tonight. Please do try not to worry over your passing too much, for I will say this: when fate calls, none may escape it. You did nothing to bring about this early departure, it is simply the way things are. How you act in your final month will determine how others remember you. Use the time wisely."

As the last words leave her mouth, she stands, and disappears through the door to your closet. Childishly, you follow after a moment and open it to see that she is nowhere to be found. She has left you alone to ponder her words, and consider what she showed you.

And you really, really don't want to.

But you're certain of one thing - it's too early for you to die. There is too much you wanted to do in life, places you wanted to go. Setting your coffee mug on the table, you spend the remainder of the evening ruminating on your couch about your life thus far, despite Diamond telling you not to.

You know there is no way you'll be able to sleep.