The streets of Ponyville were silent, despite it's usual business and energy. It was like they, too, were grieving just as I was. My grey hooves clapped solemnly against the cold, stone paths in a glum rhythm. I let out a long sigh, and had to close my eyes to stop salty tears from streaming down my face yet again. It wasn't much longer now, but even though my mind told me to go back, my broken heart was telling me to run back home and weep some more. The sun shone high in the sky, which was a blissful blue and I felt my body swelter with anger. How could life carry on after such a tragedy? How could the sky be so happy, when everything else was so terrible?
I continued walking through the empty streets, and it felt like every house was staring at me, mocking me and laughing at my grief. My face still stung from the fresh, salty tears that had raced across it all that morning, and my hair was a nest of messy, silver streaks. I hadn't been bothered to brush it that morning, since I had been too busy weeping into my pillow. It had taken such an effort just to lift myself out of bed, and my bones still felt as heavy as lead.
That walk felt like an eternity, as though every second lasted 30 years. Autumnfall had hated it when things felt like forever. She would always make a point to exclaim about how "Boring" things were by rolling her beautiful crimson eyes and then huffing a little. But it would always be followed by her adorable laugh, which was always so genuine and filled with glee - like a foal squealing with joy. My heart began to ache with emptiness, and I felt wet tears flow down my cheerless face. I ignored a strange look from another pony who was strolling down the cobbled streets in the opposite direction, wanting to just get to her house.
I looked up, her house towering over me like my nightmares and fears were finally here to get me. This house, which had once been a place of sanctuary, happiness and joyous memories, just felt grey and dark and empty. I placed a grey hoof on the broken, mauve door and pushed it lightly, not knowing how fragile it was. The door slowly creaked open, and I stepped into the empty house. I walked through the empty hallways, the floorboards creaking tiredly like moaning children as my weight shifted onto them. A light breeze chilled the room, and the curtains swayed eerily, dancing in the lonely silence. I felt a shiver run down my back, like icy, bony fingers were scratching my spine.
It had been three weeks since she had died and left her house abandoned and alone; and I crept through the dark, cold rooms wanting to be anywhere but inside there. My heart pounded in my chest, and with each beat I felt more tears stream out of my eyes.
Autumnfall's house, which had originally been so full of life and energy was now completely dead - just like everything else about her. An eerie silence shrouded the hall, and I opened the door to her room, which began to moan loudly in protest. I peered into her room, half hoping that she would jump out from behind the battered door and yell that she was still alive, but only a still silence greeted me. A thick layer of dust coated all of her objects; her books, her desk, her bed, her Gaming console and various games, her drawers. Everything was painted white with the layer of ghostly dust, and the room smelt stale and dead.
I brushed my quivering hooves on her desk, and the dust clung to my hand, as dry as a desert. I looked up from the pale desk, salty tears spilling out of my eyes, and racing down my pasty, pale cheeks. If only she had seen how much she'd meant to everyone before she had killed herself. I turned my attention to her empty bed - which was a tearful blue with, a mournful, green striped pattern on it. It reminded me of the sea: a lonely, salty, empty mass of water. Just like my tears.
I strode around her room aimlessly, each step making me feel more empty and upset than the last. I was an owl - swooping swiftly through his silent room and basking in the dark loneliness. The oak drawers were in the corner of the sombre room, and I drifted past the cheerless desk, wistfully wishing that it could be filled with the energy and colours it had once thrived with. I reached a shaking hoof up to the thin, flimsy curtains and grabbed them, tugging them gently to allow the golden daylight to seep through. It oozed in, spreading over the despondent room like thick, glutinous blood. I let out a sigh, and clenched the rigid oak handle, my hoof clammy and pale. The drawer made a deafening scraping sound that pierced the eerie silence, and I flinched a little, my heart beginning to pound in my chest like it was a lion trying to break out of a cage. I stared at the open oak drawer, which was almost empty, except for one crumpled sheet of paper that was damaged and torn and looked like it had been stuffed into the drawer in a rush. I snatched it swiftly, and held it up to my face in the golden, sickly light, as my eyes darted nervously across the page, taking in the words that had been scratched onto it instantaneously. The writing was messy, blotchy and frantic, and my stomach clenched as I held my breath in despair. Tears began gushing out of my cobalt eyes like waterfalls and soon my face was soaked in salty patches of pain and sorrow. I had found her suicide note.
Author's Note
I don't know. I was feeling sad and reused part of an english project for this story
