The Letter

by Arioch Starr

Rating: everyone
Tags: Tragedy, Sad
Length: 1008

After a tragic incident leaves Rainbow Dash bedridden in hospital, her carer writes a letter telling about his feelings.

A carer of Rainbow Dash visits her in hospital and reveals his feelings towards her despite the fact she's incapable of communicating.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2017-03-30 13:03:31 UTC

The Letter

“How is she, doctor?” I ask when I enter in the ward.

“It doesn’t look good.” He says, clipboard in hand. “I would seriously consider saying goodbye while you have the chance.” He adds, walking past me and out of the room, giving us some privacy.

Saddened by these terrible sequences, I position the chair next to the bed to face her and sit down. As I look onto her face, her beautiful, cerulean face, the wave of emotion hits and tears start to well in my eyes.

“Rainbow Dash.” I say, quietly and gently, almost a whisper. “I am so sorry.”

I place the letter I carry on the bedside table. The words scribbled were of an apologetic nature, and this is what it said:

“Dear Rainbow Dash.

I am writing this letter addressed to you because... because I want to apologise. I’m so sorry for what happened to you. If I’d have known, I would have tried to prevent this disaster. Even now, as you lay there, legs spread outward, sheets covering half your body, I wish I could change time.

Your rainbow-stained mane falling back on to the soft feathery pillow that gives your head comfort. The stare you give, lifeless, untouched despite this tragic incident. I know you’re still there, inside that inanimate frame of yours. You know you’re still there too. I see the flickers in your violet embedded eyes, twinkling like the northern star on a clear night. But what do they mean? What are you trying to tell me? I wish I could understand.

But that was the problem. Not the fact that we couldn’t understand each other due to our language barrier, but because we were a different species entirely. I fear this may be the cause behind all this. You were never part of this world. You never meant to exist in my time. But somehow, you were. You did.

I was selfish – this didn’t matter to me. I loved you as if you were my own daughter, my own flesh and blood. Yet, deep inside, I knew this wouldn’t last forever. I knew you would eventually leave me in my world, alone and without hope. But I didn’t want it to end this way, not like this. I had hoped you would return to your field of plane, to your home world and time. But alas, nothing can be done now.

Rainbow Dash, if you somehow manage to read this – if you somehow understand – please, forgive me.”

. . .

So this is what sorrow feels like? If sorrow had a voice, it would sing softly and sweet. To live without you would be to fall from grace. I won’t be able to face tomorrow knowing you’re not coming back. There will be no sun on Sunday. There’ll be no reason for words to rhyme.

I hear you laugh your joyful laugh and it dances in my mind. You filled my darkness with your rainbow-hued light. No one hears me crying, but I am dying on the inside. Relieve me from my pain. Come take me away when I hallow thy name.

I see the morning sun breaking over the distant horizon, leaking into the ward through the windows and spilling into the room. This is it: my final goodbye. As I place my palm onto your cheek, I stare into your eyes. Those big, beautiful eyes of yours. How they mock me with the illusion you’re alright. I lean forward and, ever so gently, kiss your forehead before whispering into your ear, “Godspeed, Rainbow Dash.”

The final flicker of life fades from your eye as you inhale your last breath, as if heaving a sigh of relief. I glance back at the letter.

“I leave this letter beside you in the hope you may one day return to me.”

With that, I stand up and walk away from her. The doctor stands in the doorway with a nurse.

“Have you finished?” he asks. I nod, deeply disheartened. “Very well. We shall pull the plug with your permission.”

As I nod again, tears begin to fall like waterfalls. The personnel move away from the door towards her. I begin to leave but hesitate in the door, leaning on the frame. I look back over my shoulder to take one last look at her.

“Goodbye... my little Dashie...” I look away from her. Though I know she’s gone, I don’t want her to see me like this.

But then I hear a familiar voice resound in my head; a mutter.

“Don’t leave me...”

(Be sure to check out my narration of the Letter uploaded on to YouTube via this link: [url]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vt_pj8ltxzE [/url] I'll post the description of the video here (because the site advisors refuse to allow any entry with under a thousand word document, so this is my way around it).

After a tragic incident leaves Rainbow Dash bedridden in hospital, her carer writes a letter telling about his feelings. Please be gentle, this is the first time I've done anything like this. I know it's not perfect but due to lack of experience, confidence, equipment and time, I'm proud of what I've achieved. I know it could've been a lot better in sections: the voice acting, the editing, the effect placements, but all in all I think it was a good attempt. I like to think this as my version of an "alternate ending" to ROBCakeran53's "My Little Dashie". Though I have never read Cakeran's fan-fiction, I'm told it's very emotionally written - something I can only dream of writing like. Consider this my ode to him. I had planned to do this for a while but due to lack of equipment I held back on it. The story itself had been written almost a year ago; May 2015. Among putting everything together, this entire production took around three days to make (including double, triple AND quadruple checking), and cost next to nothing to produce (while also earning nothing in return).)