I'll Never Forget

by That Sloth Over There

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Sad
Length: 1496

The story of a young mare and her friend, their fables and their sudden dark end.

Raven was a young mare, and her early life hadn't exactly been the best. She was facing the demons in her mind, all alone, and failing to do so, until she met a nice stallion, who would be one of the greatest ponies she'll ever meet. They were friends for years, until the darkness consumed Raven.

This story sucks because I didn't go over it or anything, it was a one shot not needing to be very detailed or anything. I didn't put effort in to this, sorry. It was just a quick thing, saying bye to S. Not the best goodbye but still.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-11-13 11:53:25 UTC

Goodbye, I'll Miss You.

Hi, I'm Raven. I grew up on a gloomy street, were a lot of crime took place, the police were always down, there were quite a few suicides, a lot of bullying, and everyone was out for their own gain, or had crippling depression. I didn't realise this until I grew older though, as a little filly I loved to play with my mother, she'd try and take me a lot of places and make me happy as much as she could. I didn't know at the time but we were in a lot of debt. My mother, she had problems. She drank a lot... She smoked a lot... She cried every night. I didn't see though, she was always working. She had 3 jobs at one time and could still barely support our family. She was depressed, she felt like a failure, and my brother, he would always shout at her, and sometimes he'd hit her. She'd cry, and cry... And cry. She told me she never felt safe around him, and I didn't either. I was a vulnerable young filly, and he destroyed me, and my mother as a matter of fact. One day my mother cut herself, with a knife, and had to go to the hospital. Mind, we lived on a street, and it was an hour's walk to the village, then you'd have to take a bus to the town to get a lot of the things you needed. I don't remember all too much of my childhood, I repressed it...I think. Not sure. Different parts of me remember different things, and all have different ways of coping, different mannerisms... All of those things. Well, our household wasn't ver functionable. 3/4 of it's members had self harmed. I was even doing it then, a small filly, around 5 or 6. I'd scratch, bite and stick things in to my skin to hurt myself. I was often daydreaming about running away, slitting my throat or other things in school, so I could never properly concentrate. I had two best friends in school. One was a small filly, stick thin. She liked animals, and gymnastics. After a few years she left me to be in the popular group. But the same year she left me I met another filly, she also liked animals, but she drew too. We used to talk about a show called 'My Little Human' and we'd pretend to be our favourite characters from it. I'd play as Andrea and she'd play as Tara. We'd sing and dance, even finish eachother's sentences, I basically read her mind, bragging intended. I was friends with her for two years when it happened. I remember it clearly, it was my birthday. I awoke to a sight that I'll never forget. My mother, she was in so much pain. She couldn't stand, she couldn't hear me, and she was talking a load of random nonsense, you'd think she was posessed. I tried to get her to talk to me, but she couldn't. She uttered a sentence, and my actions after that will scar me forever.

"I don't want you to see me like this."

"Okay... I'l go downstairs..."

I left her. My biggest regret. A few hours later my brother asked about her, and I explained she was ill. Then a while later, I went to our shared room, and two men in orange suits were taking her away. Nobody told me what was going on. A few days later, after constantly asking, I was told she went to hospital. My response was something like

"Oh, ok."

Clueless. The mare who gave me life was in hospital fighing for hers and all I could say was 'Ok'? I'm a terrible daughter.  A week after my birthday is my brother's. And my grandmare, and my brother would go away for hours and hours daily to see my mother. I was never allowed to go, or know anything about it. I told my best friend, and she reassured me that it would be ok, and she'd come home soon. That's when it happened, I was pulled out of school and taken in a very long taxi ride to the hospital. When we arrived, the nurses and doctors all stared at me, they held my hands and kept telling me not to be afraid. I didn't understand, she'll just be in bed with a few wires, I thought.

When I went in to her hospital room, that's what I saw. Wires in her everywhere, her hair shaved, she was sweating, and bleeding in lots of places. I gasped. It took me a while to fully react, so I slowly made my way to her bed and held her hand. I was told to talk to her, but nobody knew if she could hear. An hour  passed, and the doctor took us away to tell us the results of her test.

"No brain activity was detected. She's dead. Any questions?"

The room was silent.

"No."

The doctor left, and we all sat in silence. I looked at the floor, not knowing what else to do. I have trouble expressing emotions, and my family kept telling me to cry, but I didn't know how. I'd know this was going to happen, for years, Mandy told me. I just didn't want to believe it. Mandy is the mare I see sometimes, shes either nice or horrid. She was there that day, she took my mother's soul to the afterlife.

****

Weeks passed. I was still friends with that girl, and Mandy was always with Amy and I. We still liked watching 'My Little Human', and Andrea often had to cheer me up when I was alone. I remember my favourite episode was 'Season 1, Episode 25, Party Of One.' because of what happened to Andrea, and her state in sadness. Relatable, I guess.

I was actually searching for stories about Andrea when I found a site, about My Little Human. I read so many stories! And I found a liking to writing. It was here I made a friend. He asked me to teach him how to be random, since I was always smiling and joking. Little did anyone know though, the smile is a lie and I've been broken for years. We talked about a lot of things, day and night.

"Gorilla sprinkles!"

"Gorilla Sprinkles?"

"They're the best!"

"Are they expensive?"

"No, cheap, have some!" (Sends them through the screen)

He met my other sides too. And he we very good friends. One day though, my 'best friend' snitched, and my family didn't like me going online without their persmission and full observation, so I got the internet taken off me for a year. I was so angry. It turned in to depression, since the things he'd support me with were increasing, but I no longer had that support. I got a little green comb from a Christmas Cracker, and scraped my skin off. I was suicidal, and I planned to say goodbye the next day at school, then go to the woods and slit my throat. 5 long marks down my arm. I was snooped on again, and went to hospital for treatment. I was sent to a therapy place for months. I hated it there, I hated everything!

A year after my mother died, I was still alive because I was under constant surveying. However, I managed to contact my friend again, and tell him about the situation. In secret we talked, and were careful not to get in trouble from my family. But after two years of bullying online and in school, I began to cut. I told my friend, since he was the only one left, everyone else left me. He supported and helped me. But I had broken him in the past. We'd fought three times before, but luckily we were able to be friends again. This time though... Things weren't the same.

We were fighting... But the coast wasn't clear. I told him, and his message seemed sad or worried but I don't get why it would. I sent him two messages when the coast was clear, hours passed on to the next day, no reply. I felt so horrible. He's stuck with me when nobody else has and has always been so nice. He's a true friend, and I'm always so terrible to him. He's done so much for me, Ive cried over him, smiled, laughed... I couldn't take the guilt.

I obtained my razor from the draw, and carved a 'S' on my arm, the initial of his first name. Now he'll always be with me.

I went to the kitchen, picked up a knife, held it to my throat.

Still no reply.

"Goodbye. Have a good life."

Then I fell to the ground. Blood was pouring from my kneck. I was bleeding out, and in my last few seconds, I whispered.

"I'm sorry for wasting your life."