A young filly curled into her little brown blanket, trembling and weeping, only her unmarked orange flank and mint-green tail uncovered. She couldn’t bear the pain… it was a hole in her little heart that she knew wouldn’t go away. The filly winced. Her best friend was gone, and gone forever. It had to have been a cruel joke everyone was playing on her; they had to have been lying… But deep down, she knew that it was true.
She curled her forehooves around her little stuffed pink dragon, squeezing it ever so tightly and loosing a sharp sob. Normally, she cried quietly… but she couldn’t hold it in this time. The dragon had been a gift from her friend, and a soft pink just like her mane. And Satin had loved dragons… always wanting to learn more about them, even trying to speak like them. The two had always joked that she was a dragon born in the wrong body.
The filly sobbed more, tears drenching the poor plush dragon, whose little face still seemed to hold its resolve, with its confident smile and bright eyes. It—It couldn’t be… It had to be a nightmare, just a bad dream. She would wake up tomorrow and Satin would be there at her door to walk to school with her. But it had been five days already. This nightmare wasn’t going to end… she wasn’t coming back…
She pressed the plush to her little chest and constricted it angrily, shaking. She was mad at the world for taking her away, and with nothing she could do about it. In fact… she even wanted to march right up to Princess Celestia and demand Satin back, ask her why it had to be this way. Most of all, she was angry with herself for not being there for her friend enough, not showing she cared enough. As if that would do any—
“Summer?” her aunt’s gentle voice called from behind the door. “Are you okay?”
Little Summer paused a moment, closing her eyes and sniffling, wiping the tears off on her hooves. “N-No…” she responded weakly.
“Sweetheart… I’m here for you. Come on and let’s eat together?” her aunt said assuringly, a faint hope in her voice.
Summer sighed and quickly set down her soaked dragon plushie, brushing her tear-streaked green mane out of her face and plodded toward the door. “Coming, Mummy…” she choked out as she pushed open the door.
Her aunt stood patiently waiting for her and frowned. “Sweetie, you look terrible…” she said as she held her niece in a brown-flecked grey wing and they steadily walked toward the dining area. “Honey, I made you a lentil-lemongrass curry loaf, but I knew you wouldn’t be very hungry so I didn’t make as much this time. I hope that’s okay.”
“Y-Yes, Mum… Thank you…” Summer replied emptily.
They sat across from each other around the table, a simple carved wooden oval. There were two plates, and two little handle-less cups filled with water. In the middle was a pitcher of water and a larger plate with a round yellowish-brown loaf and a knife next to it.
After asking Summer how much she wanted, her aunt cut her a small nip from the end and cut herself a half of what was left. She quickly finished her slice and cut another small piece. Summer stared quietly at her slice before finally taking small hesitant bites. It was her favourite, the firm yet chewy spiced loaf… but today, she couldn’t stomach it. After barely gulping down the last bite, Summer hastily swallowed her water as well, before breaking the silence.
“M-May I go back to my room…?” she quavered.
Her aunt looked up carefully from her plate, which until now she had been distracting herself with from the uncomfortable silence. “Yes, sweetheart. Please do what you need. I know it’s very difficult for you right now.”
Summer then stood up and trotted away to the solace of her room, without even putting her dishes up to be cleaned as she normally would. Her aunt watched solemnly, tears forming in her mellow orange-brown eyes.
She leaned back and lay on the wooden floor, wings spread, and sighed quietly. She felt so overwhelmed, and not because she had to look after Summer—she was very independent and self-sufficient—but because she was at a loss as to how to act now. Her heart ached for the poor child, who had just lost someone close, but what could she really do to console her?
She gently fluffed her wings against the floor and closed her eyes. She, Hazel Current, had to be the best parent she could be to her little Summer. But she knew she could never be what Summer’s real parents would have been, had they been alive to watch her grow and be there for her. She almost began to cry, thinking of them.
Hazel shook her head and sat back up on her hooves. No, she had to be strong. And she had to finish eating… She stared menacingly at the unfinished slice; it was untouched. Like Summer, she just wasn’t hungry anymore. So she placed it back on the larger plate, gathered up all the dishes, hastened them all back to the counter and washed them, unceremoniously. The leftover loaf went into a small ceramic pot that she put into the ice box.
Finally, Hazel flittered off to bed. Tomorrow would be a long day, just like most others. In addition to her early morning weather duty, she had to work at the local café later that day, which, while fun, was rather exhausting. Hazel pulled the covers over herself, closed her eyes, and heaved a heavy, tired sigh, rubbing her forehead. She really hoped that Summer would be alright alone…
Hazel lay awake for some time before drifting to sleep, despite the concerns plaguing her mind. Meanwhile, Summer sat at her desk, sniffling a little, although not crying right at that moment. She peered over her journal, open before her on the desk and full of her scrawlings, and read the last entry, from five days ago:
I’m scared about tomorrow. Satin is sicker. We can’t visit her tomorrow. I wish… I wish I could wish upon a star… I just want everything back to normal. She told me she would be okay. But if she wasn’t, just smile for her. I said she would be okay. Because everything is always okay in the end, right? I told her I would make a poem to make her feel better. But I forgot… I’ll write it tomorrow…
Summer slammed the journal shut, eyes hot with tears. “N-No! I-It’s… not fair…” she cried out, shoving the journal away and jumping headfirst into her disheveled bed. She continued to cry, curled around her plushie and her blanket, with the moonlight upon her back, until her wounded heart tired out for the night.
The next day, Summer startled awake, surprised she had slept at all. Her body ached restlessly, the sunshine burning her sore eyes. She wished the world would leave her alone for once. But the sun still rose every day, refusing her the cool, dark peace she wanted to hide within, and school still demanded her presence. Life continued as usual, oblivious to her pain. In fact, everything only seemed to mock and torment her more.
Summer groaned, rolling out of bed onto the thin carpet, her blanket falling with her. Despite her aching body, she hastily brushed her unkempt mane, still matted with dried tears, and threw her things into her saddlebags. Normally, she would have eaten a light meal, but she wanted the day over with as quickly as possible and pushed her way past everything out the door.
The path to school was the same one that she always took with Satin. She even waited for a moment hoping that Satin would show. But it was futile, she reminded herself. Satin was always early so they could walk together and enjoy the sights as they talked.
Summer refused to cry as her hooves pounded the dirt, almost breaking into a gallop as the images, the memories of all the things they did and all the things they said to each other washed over her. She took shortcuts: past the pond, through the fields, over the little bridge, every way she could to get to the schoolhouse faster and avoid remembering. Finally, Summer arrived, unaware of how much she was panting and sweating.
The wood-framed schoolhouse was painted a soft yellow but otherwise very plain. She pushed open the front door and looked around. Strangely, she was very early. No one else was yet there, so she could sit wherever she wanted. Summer and Satin usually sat in the front, but she decided on a seat far in the back, in the corner furthest from where she stood.
Taking off her saddlebags and opening her notebook, Summer began sketching a cat next to her previous day’s notes. Cats were nice. Fluffy, cute, and affectionate… usually. The eyes and the ears were her favourite parts to draw.
“Hey there.”
She jumped with a start, dropping her pencil. Nervously, she picked up her pencil and turned to her right to face the voice. “Y-Hi. Um… can I help?”
The voice belonged to a purple colt, with a darker purple mane obscuring his features. She didn’t recognize this colt at all, probably because he sat in the back normally. “Hehe, sorry I scared you. I just wanted to say hi. I’m Dreamcatcher.”
“Well… hi. I’m Summer Song,” she said, half-heartedly.
Dreamcatcher processed this for a moment. “I’ve seen you before… Oh! You’re Satin’s friend!” he exclaimed, as if he had made some remarkable discovery.
Summer looked down and sighed, her throat feeling dry as powder. “Yes…”
“Where has Satin been? Is she sick?”
“Was.”
Dreamcatcher scrunched his face a little. “Was? Is she better now?”
Summer sighed heavily, her eyes burning again. She turned her head up and stared piercingly into the little colt’s eyes. “No. She’s dead,” Summer spoke flatly, at nearly a whisper. “Now leave me alone!” she snapped, the tears poised to fall from her dark red-violet eyes.
Dreamcatcher cowered. He finally stammered, “O-Okay… Sorry…” and whimpered under his breath, quietly turning his head away.
Summer laid her head down on her desk, on top of her notebook, and wept quietly. She didn’t care that others were there. They could laugh at and mock her all she wanted. She didn’t care. She probably deserved it anyway for failing Satin that one last time.
“Summer?” said a voice with authority and maturity in its tone.
Summer sprung her head up, her face wet. It was the teacher. Pink coat, grey mane, fairly young yet experienced and knowledgeable, at least in Summer’s eyes.
“Do you need a day off?” the teacher asked pointedly.
“No.” Summer was determined not to show she was incapable or weak. Satin wouldn’t have given up. She wouldn’t either.
“Alright, Summer. Class, today we’ll begin with…” Summer wasn’t paying attention. She stared down at the cat she drew. It—and her whole notebook—were soaked. That didn’t matter. The cat looked awful anyway. She tore that page out and crumpled it up, setting it on her desk.
“Summer? Please, pack your bags and come outside with me.”
Summer sighed and nodded, doing as she was told. She followed the teacher, who turned to face the class and announced, “I will be a moment, class. Please stay in your seats and be patient.”
A student called out as they left, “Oooh, Summer’s in trouble!” at which a few other students snickered. Summer was tempted to return an angry glare, but instead ignored them.
Outside, the teacher put her hoof over Summer’s shoulder and met her gaze. Finding the words, she began in a serious tone, “Summer. I know you want to pretend nothing is wrong. I know you want to be strong. And you are. But sometimes, you just can’t be. None of us can be all the time, not even the princesses.” She seemed to ponder this for a moment before continuing. “You just lost someone close to you, dear to many of us as well. Those wounds don’t just heal in a day. Everyone needs time to grieve, to accept their losses and move forward. And everyone does it in their own ways. I ask that you please take your time to grieve as well, so that you can begin to heal too.”
Summer only nodded silently. She wasn’t sure what to say.
The teacher drew some bits from her purse and gave them to Summer with a slight smile. “Go on now, buy yourself some ice cream or a nice trinket. Something nice to help you.” Summer nodded again, wiping her face. Before she could turn and leave, she was pulled into a gentle embrace. “If you do, tell Lucky I said hello. And please, remember Satin as who she was to you. An amazing friend. Most of all, never, ever blame yourself.” She let go then and turned to the door. “Please take care of yourself, Summer.”
“You too,” Summer muttered back, meekly waving to the teacher as she went back inside. Summer could swear she saw a hint of tears sparkling in her eyes and a twinge of pain upon her face…
Summer stared at the bits still in her hoof. She didn’t want to buy anything… She would just save them. She didn’t want to go back home either and be left alone to her thoughts. Her heart ached sorely. She just needed a friend to do something with…
Stashing the bits in one of her bags, she shook her head and leaned against the wall. Maybe she could visit her mum. Surely she wouldn’t mind. Summer set off on her way to the café at a brisk trot, doing her best to keep her composure. At least it would be something to take her mind off everything… She didn’t want to—no, couldn’t—be alone right now.
