One more hour.
One more hour until they come. One more hour until they get here. One more hour to live.
She knew this. By Celestia, did she know this. The thought of death haunted her mind and clouded her memories. What would happen afterwards? What would happen to the world she lived in? What would happen to her friends? Where would she go after death?
Yes, she had heard of Tartarus. But what if you didn't go there when you die? What if you float around in an endless void, awaiting for someone, anyone, to talk to you? What if you suffer in agony for the rest of eternity?
All of these questions and more clouded her brain, to the point of denial.
I mean, how would you feel? Knowing that you will die in a matter of a few tiny minutes? Knowing that time flies by, which equals to your fate coming closer each second? Knowing that you cannot escape from things of a matter of life and death? Just think to yourself; how would you feel? Are you afraid of death?
Maybe they won't kill her? Maybe they'll show her mercy? However, what is the chance that they won't? There is always a chance of redemption, but at the same time a chance of revenge. She did do a horrible deed, so why should they forgive her for it? Not even 'the magic of friendship' could save her on this one.
Her horn lit up, trailing across a small bookshelf she had set up for herself. She lived in a small hut on the outskirts of Manehatten. It wasn't big, two rooms at least. But it was her home. And you bet she was going to die there instead of anywhere else. She built this home, and she can't leave it because of a crisis.
She began to cry. Every tear was swallowed into the ground, at the same time creating a serenading sound that seemed to summon even more than what was dropped. Soon, her face wasn't visible through all of the sorrow she cried. Her vision wasn't clear, her mind wasn't clean. She took a book from the shelf.
It was a small book, a filly book. Her magic dropped the book, and sloppily opened it. The pages flipped as if they were exhausted, taking every chance to flop to the other side. She attempted to clear her face, and reading it word for word. Her mother used to read this when she was only a small pony.
The book was intended to teach small colt's about death, as children don't have a clear understanding of it. Her mother read this to her when her grandparents died. They were old, so it was of natural causes. However, telling a small pony that everyone eventually dies is hard, especially if you have to explain it about someone so close to them.
"When someone tells you that someone had 'died', it is meant that they forgot everything, and have to be taken to a safer place. When you die, you will forget everything, everyone. You will be taken to a very special, and safe, place. But don't worry, as you will watch over people in this safe place."
After reading these words, she looked at the clock.
Not long now.
She growled, and tipped over the table she was sitting at. She didn't want to die, not this way. Quickly, she prepared a spell and cast it without second thought. The result wasn't great, but it exploded, knocking over all of the furniture and destroying the cabinets, breaking windows and knocking some doors off their hinges.
Falling to the floor, she kept crying. She didn't want to die. She got back on to her hooves, and looks at the clock once more. How long did she spend wallowing? A long time, was the answer. Time flies fast, and it felt too fast for her liking. Her stomach turned to the thought of time ticking away, slowly spiraling her into an insane abyss.
Getting up again, she walked over to the broken parts of the table, and lifted up the book from the debris of the table with her magic. It glowed faintly, illuminating the room more than it did last time. Finally, she tugged the book into her own embraced. She then muttered a weak and sorrowful cry.
"I don't want to forget."
Crying and throwing things around did not help anyone. She flashed her own life before her eyes. Her mother, her father, her brother... It all seemed so real, yet she could already feel her memories slipping away.
She heard the hooves. She had no choice. She couldn't run anymore. It was time. Time for her to face her punishment. It wasn't like she could avoid any consequences, considering what she had done. And attacking her punishers wouldn't help her situation at all. If anything, it would make it ten times worse than it already is.
She smiled, placing the book neatly by her side and keeping herself turned away from the front door. She arched her back slightly, making herself a good target for a killer. She didn't care how they did it. She accepted what had to be done.
She heard them. They slammed open her door, panting and screeching at her. They were sweating, pulses were racing, veins were popping. They were tensed, lighting up their horns as if they couldn't hold anymore of their energy in them. They quickly made one powerful spell that was extremely lethal, especially to her, the center of attention.
Her tears were stuck to her face, smile fastened to her cheeks. Her mane was tidy despite the spell she used, and her position seemed unworthy for mercy. She didn't even flinch when their magic hit her skull. She didn't even blink when they called out her name.
