Never Let Die

by Synesisbassist

Rating: teen
Tags: Violence, Dark, Sad, Romance, Anon, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Suicide / Self Harm, Fluttershy
Length: 1422

Two years or so has passed since you came here. You had a wife, you have a daughter. Your life was seemingly perfect. And it only took a few months to come from your high, crashing all the way to the bottom.

On a night like many other night's after it happened. You awake in a cold sweat, heart pounding in your chest, almost threatening to stop dead. But at this point, you'd almost welcome it...

This was written a long time ago, back in the summer. I was starting a new job the next day, but I woke with terrible anxiety the day before. This is the results of it. I do NOT condone suicide. It is never the answer. If you or anyone you know has these feelings, talk to someone.

This is largely un-edited, I wrote it in a hour or so and never touched it since. While not written originally as a sequel to A Butterflies Kiss, it could be considered as one. As this story was never meant to be seen by anyone, take it how you will.

Published 2018-01-02 05:50:07 UTC
Last updated 2018-01-02 05:50:07 UTC

Final Moments

Author's Note

Surprise story/sequel post?! I was just going though my back log of stuff, and noticed I hadn't posted this before. This was never supposed to be read by anyone, so it's not really good. Take it as a bonus little thing I guess.

Final Moments

Once again, you awoke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. Pushing yourself up, you stare into the darkness of the room. Your breaths a rapid and sharp, the oxygen levels inside you are out of whack. Either too little or too much, you feel a tad light-headed. Putting your feet onto the cold, wooden floorboards, you sit on the edge of the bed. Silence surrounds you, ears ringing as you desperately try and control your breathing as that old, but familiar feeling well up inside you.

You hate it. You hate it with all your might, but it still persists. You’ve tried everything to stop that feeling from coming back, but it always comes back eventually. Normally it’s moderately easy to control and work through, but not tonight. Tonight you are it’s mercy, as that feeling wells up inside your chest.

Standing up, you quietly make your way out of the room and into the hallway. Your stomach starts to tighten and your heart beats faster, as you make your way down the stairs. The living room is empty of creatures, normally something that would have alarmed you. But not this night. You feel sick as you make your way into the kitchen and turn on the water.

The sound helps, but not much. In, and out… In and out. You try and control your breathing before splashing water into your face but it has no effect. With a shaky hand, you turn the knob off and the water slows to a slow drip.

It was bound to happen. First the depression, one that seemed to suck the very life out of you. No energy, no motivation. Sleep was something that rarely took place, if you got more than a couple of hours you’d be lucky. Sometimes there were days you never ate, days you wish never happened. But you recovered, it took weeks for that phase to work itself out. But then came the anxiety.

From the time you woke up, it was only a matter of time before that dreadful feeling came up inside you. You slept more sure, but unhealthily so. More than half of the day was spent in bed, trying to get away from the world. This cruel, world. Looking up from the sink, you gaze into the mirror above it. The figure that stares back is a mess, it barely resembles the bright, young, smiling man that first stood in this house.

It looks more like a shell, a shell of your former self with a half-dead soul inside it. Shakily your hand pushes against the counter, knocking over a bottle or two onto the floor. Your legs feel numb but you force them to move, out of the kitchen and out the front door.

The bright moon lights up the front yard, the little twisting path leads to a small stream of water that gurgles quietly in the still night. The stars themselves twinkle as the cool, fresh air waft into your nose. It does little to help the tightness in your chest as your legs start moving once again. Leaving the warm, comforting embrace of the house, you make your way down the path to the edge of the stream.

The dark water flows past you while you stare deep into it. The calming sound helps to relax you, as you close your eyes and take a deep breath. Before you take a step. The cold water shocks to your core, tingling against the bare skin of your foot. It feels like an eternity before your sole touches the smooth rocks. The other foot soon follows, standing ankle deep in the stream. It’s cold, your heart rate skyrockets and your body pleas for you to get out.

Instead, you take another step. It burns now as you stand knee deep in the water, your hands tremble as tears start to stream down your cheeks. This is the only way to finally stop all the feelings. You keep telling yourself as you hesitate. This is the point where you always stop. You can never go any further, whether it’s because you really don’t want to go further. Or because of her.

Your leg lifts to step backwards, but instead it moves deeper into the water. Then a soft, warm hoof gently takes ahold of your left hand. The smooth underhoof gently grabs your index finger and holds on as tight as it can. “I love you daddy…” A soft voice whispers. Fresh tears stream down your face before you turn to look down at the little filly.

She’s a spitting image of her mother. The same long, pink mane. That same sunny, yellow coat. Her little wings tucked gently to her sides, ruffle slightly in the crisp, night air. But she has your eyes, a bright, but deep blue stares back up at you. She’s tearing up now, gently tugging on your finger to come out of the water. “Please don’t leave me alone.” She speaks softly, her eyes gazing behind her to the large oak tree.

Your eyes follow hers to see the grey, shimmering stone that rests there. Closing your eyes, images fly through your head. Dozens of thoughts come with it, none of it making sense before she speaks up again. “Do it for me, Daddy. Do it for Mommy too.” Her words resonate deep in your heart. With a deep breath, you slowly walk out of the water and back to dry land. She struggles to fly up to your level with her wings, but once she does she throws her hooves tightly around your chest.

The filly weeps gently, shuddering while your arms immediately wrap around her back. You coo quietly into her ear, apologizing profusely while walking back up the winding path to the front door of the cottage. With a final glance back to the stone, a small pink butterfly gently lands on the top of it. With a weak smile, the sun starts to crest the horizon just as you head back inside.

The mare that was sitting on a bench, looks up with green eyes from her notes. She has a stunning white coat with a reddish/burgundy mane and tail, done up in a bun. Her white horn parts her bangs, glowing with a green aura. A pair of small, black glasses rest atop her muzzle as she looks at you intently. You had just told her your story right up until last night. Everything had come out, feelings and all. Upholding a promise to your daughter, that you would get help.

The therapist puts down the clipboard and removes her glasses, before placing them delicately down on a small table next to her. “I’m glad you came in here for help.” She places a hoof onto your leg and smiles sweetly. “I can only imagine the pain and suffering you’ve been through, but you need to be there for her.” Her words rang true, you knew it in your heart you needed to be there for your daughter.

Muttering a quiet thanks, she glances at the clock and chews her lip. “We’re out of time today, but please...” The unicorn pauses and floats over a small card with her name, and address on it; along with a small map on the back. “If you ever get those feelings again, come and see me anytime. I’ll always be here to help you.” Taking the card lightly in your hand, she escorts you to the door and opens it. In the small waiting room, a certain little filly is sitting on the floor playing with a couple of used dolls.

When your eyes land on her, you glance back down at the card, then at the mare. You give her a surprising hug, one that she hesitantly returns. “Come on Deliliah, it’s time to go home.” One she notices the new, relaxed look on your face. With a flutter of her wings, she zooms up and hugs you tightly. Once again, giving the therapist your thanks. You walk out into the bright, sunny day. With your precious filly atop your shoulders, nuzzling the top of your head. Your sights set for home.