Author's Note
This was my first fic in the fandom and I frankly rushed right through it to try and enter a fic contest (I needed some kind of kick in the pants!).
To be honest, it's not great. I may end up taking it off the site at some point, but it was my first published fic.
Funny thing is, I had a pretty different story initially but it got rejected for not being pony enough, so I had to do some pretty major edits and I think it came out a bit worse for it, sadly enough.
Well, hopefully you might still get some enjoyment out of it :)
Running out of time
I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I flew high over Ponyville that evening, high enough to pretend not to hear Pinkie Pie calling me or feel obligated to say hi to Rarity and Twilight. I didn’t want to talk to them, to anyone. I wouldn’t know what to say.
How could I tell them? They’d worry, and cry, and stress out and I didn’t want that. They don’t need to know. Not yet.
Maybe I was just scared to admit it to myself.
I usually liked coming home after a long day, just chilling. But as dusk began to settle it seemed so still. I thought about running away- far away where I wouldn’t have to think about it. Instead I made dinner; I should have been hungry by then, certainly by the time the rice and broccoli were done. Instead I looked at the plate of food and walked away before I threw it out the window.
I stood in the center of my house and looked at it all, strange how it all seemed so… different. There was so much I wanted to do. So many ponies I didn’t want to leave.
My eyes burned. I was running out of time. Months…
I held a hoof to my mouth as I started gasping for air, unreasonably afraid someone might hear. I curled into myself, hugging my chest and sinking until my forehead rested on the wood floor. I sobbed until it hurt, until I couldn’t make another sound.
I’m scared.
What’s going to happen?
I don’t want to die.
~
It’d been a little over a year since. I’d already outlived the doctor’s expectations, but not for much longer.
It’d been two days since I’d last eaten, two days since I could recall feeling anything like hunger or thirst. I was always tired now, my eyelids too heavy to keep open for long. It was getting harder to breathe.
It was late, too late for anyone else to be around. All I could do was stare into the darkness and listen to my own rasping breaths and the scratch of sheets as I kept shifting about. It sucked. I hadn’t put much thought into how I’d die, but I know it wasn’t this. I thought I’d go down battling changelings, or maybe a crazy explosion or a stunt gone wrong. Something crazy and exciting!
Not this.
I looked out the window at the bright stars- still the middle of the night. I think Rarity said she’d be by in the morning to check on me and bring scones in case I got hungry. Doubt it.
Of course my friends had found out about it eventually. I don’t know exactly how they responded to the news- I ran off as soon as I saw the growing looks of horror on each of their faces and knew I didn’t want to see or hear them crying over me. It made the whole thing too real. In hindsight I should have stayed with them, maybe I could have comforted them or something.
But once they knew it was ok. It was nice just having them there.
Actually… if it hadn’t been for them I don’t know what I would’ve done. Sometimes it was so quiet and still I was sure that one false move could shatter the world. I hated that feeling, that pressure. The world became strange- everything new and old, sharp and blurred, fleeting and forever. Dark nights and warm afternoons, the coming of dawn and the crispness of winter.
Yet, whenever I felt I would go mad with loneliness, when the world was turning grey before my eyes, little things would bring back the color.
Fluttershy often came just to keep me company. She came with soup and a strained smile, but as time went on she seemed more… ok, I guess. She must be used to her animals dying, just a part of life. Right?
Pinkie Pie was always stopping by with plates of delicious chocolate and baked goods. After one hospital visit I found her waiting for me in my kitchen with bags of sugar and flour and chocolate and lots of balloons. She wanted to bake with me. I usually wasn’t one for baking- too many instructions- but I did like being with Pinkie. We made Florentines with dried cranberries and nuts and dark chocolate- and the whole place smelled like a bakery. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a cookie as much as I did that day.
Twilight stopped by a lot, brought me a long list of ‘100 great books to read’ (pretty sure it used to say ‘100 books to read before you die’ but that would have been a bit much). I’m glad she did- hospitals can be awfully boring places, and when I could barely leave my room, it was nice to escape it all for just a little bit.
Rarity liked to come and visit too- she’d bring her needle and thread and sewed, just to keep me company. When my mane- my beautiful mane- began to thin and disappear she would sew Wonderbolt-themed beanies and soft blankets with my cutie mark.
One day when I was starting to get weaker, Applejack had come early to pick me up for an appointment with her cart piled with cushions and shaded with a jerry-rigged umbrella. Before taking me to the clinic she took a detour up a little hill overlooking Ponyville and wouldn’t tell me why. Once at the top she helped me down before pulling out a seedling and a trowel. It had seemed a bit silly, and I’d laughed at first- she wasn’t happy about that. It was nice to not be treated like glass, and AJ was good was that.
I might not be an earth pony, but I knew how to plant a tree and decided to just dig into the rich soil with my own two hooves. She gave me the little sapling, a zap apple tree- it just seemed right, she said. I buried it, tamped down the earth, and for a moment just sat there before it, hoping that it would survive. That it would live on. That it would grow year after year, safe from storm and disease.
The smell of forest stayed with me all that day.
Scoots came too. It took her longer than most, and I didn’t blame her. I’ve never seen her so miserable, especially as my wings weakened and molted and could no longer fly. I missed it. But I was going to miss her a lot more.
I must have dozed off.
I opened my eyes and saw a strange pony standing by my bed.
“Wha- who’s there?” I said, sitting up and squinting at her. It was pretty early for the nurse to stop by- the sun wasn’t even up yet.
“Only me. How are you feeling?”
“Ok.”
It was the only real answer, even when you’re dying. Although actually… I did feel ok. The pain had been falling off for a few days, and at the moment I felt more awake than half conscious which was a nice change.
“Are you scared?”
“I… yes.” I finally whispered. No one had asked me that- I don’t think anyone wanted to think about it. I didn’t. I looked out the window rather than at her, uncomfortably aware of the hot prickling behind my eyes. I didn’t want to think about how terrified I really was. I’m not supposed to get scared, and yet…
“There was so much more I wanted to do.” I said quietly, half to myself. “I always thought I’d have years, my whole life ahead of me. I… I don’t want it to be over. I don’t want to leave my friends.”
She sat down near me, rested a hoof beside my own and didn’t say a word, and that was enough.
We sat in the silence while outside the stars began to fade, little by little. I felt the world slowly, quietly shift.
I didn’t want to go.
My throat was tight and I began to cough, the noise distant in my ears.
“It’ll be all right.” She whispered.
I’d heard that before. So many times from so many ponies, hoping to comfort me but we all knew it was a lie. Finally… finally I believed it. Things would be ok.
Somehow, I’d be ok.
The pain in my chest was gone.
She stood, looking out the window at the world tinted pale gold with the coming dawn.
She held out a hoof, beckoning me. “It’s time to go.”
I nodded. Took a deep breath I no longer needed.
I stood, felt her warm presence against me. For a minute- maybe more, maybe less- she merely let me stand beside her; taking in a final view of my home, cherishing final thoughts of my friends, saying goodbye to all that I was.
Slowly- or immediately- the rest of everything began to lose itself. The world grew quiet, feeling itself seemed to float away. My world, my life- it faded, blurred.
Disappeared.
For a moment- a vast, eternal, fleeting moment- it was only darkness, without even my own breath for comfort.
It’ll be all right
At least I won’t be alone.
