Bones for the Taking

Rain. Why is it that rain symbolized sadness? Is it Equestria's way of showing its sadness? Or is it the weather crew just being dramatic?

Either way, it dampens the mood.

I stand in the crowd of mourners, mourning those who gave their lives during the dungeon raid. My blood red mane creating a pathway for the water to the ground.

CRACK!

Seven rifles fire off.

CRACK!

They fire a second time.

CRACK!

The third and last time the rifles fire their blanks. Behind the pegasi, two unicorns fold up an Equestrian flag. Aside the unicorns are Earth ponies, slowly lowering a casket into the ground.

"Mommy!" A little filly yells, running over to the casket. "Mommy! Why are you burying Mommy!?" She screams at the Earth ponies. They don't answer. A red stallion walks over and picks up the filly.

"No!" She screams. "Don't leave Mommy!!!! Mommy!! Come back!!!"

This chair has never fed depression before today. It used to help lift my spirits, I'd spin in it for hours. Now it's just reminding me of Silver.

Meow?

"What?" I say, lifting my head off the counter.

Meow!

"Your hungry? Come on." I say, dragging myself out of my chair. I take her running over to the cabinet as a yes. I walk over to the cabinet and open it with a wing. I pull out a can of cat food and a can opener. Stand through the painstakingly annoying sound of a can opening.

I place the newly opened can onto the floor and let Ruby eat. Walking back over to my couch I take off my trench coat and throw it across the room angrely.

"I'm so sorry, Silver." I say to myself.

Then the phone rings.

I jump up and run over to it, preying it's Silver calling.

I pick up the hoofset.

I lower the gun from my mouth with my magic. I can't, not now. She's not dead.

I've been through this routine a dozen times. Put the gun in my mouth, swearing to myself 'this is it.'

But it always results in the same way, crying, throwing the gun across the room and screaming. Hoping that the throw would cause the gun to fire and hit me just right.

This time was different. There was no screaming, no throwing. Just returning the gun to it's proper spot, and loathing Andreah's way of telling me she was alive. Only if she knew what her 'death' did to me. How many times it caused me to place that pistol against my soft palate.

Two weeks ago she walked into this room and acted like we saw each other yesterday.

No.

Let's see how you feel Andreah. Let's see how you cope.

I lift the pistol with my magic and place it in my mouth again. I hear the safety click off.

The phone rings.