Author's Note
This is a... personal story for me. I hope you enjoy it.
New Years Eve
She hated this time of year. It was rare for Applejack to ever say she "hated" anything. She disliked a lot of things (and people), but it was incredibly rare for her to truly hate something, to feel such contempt for something that just the thought of it weighed her heart down into the pit of her stomach.
She hated this time of year.
She didn't hate the holidays, no. She loved spending money on her friends and seeing their faces light up when they opened their gifts. She loved singing songs and dancing around in the kitchen with Applebloom while helping Granny prepare hot meals. She loved the cold weather, the crunch of snow, sitting by a fire at night. She loved the activities of it all, it was the general time of it all that she couldn't stand, and it made everything she loved leave a bitter taste in her mouth after the fun was had. It meant she was drawing closer to her visit.
Everyone was expected to party on New Years Eve, one last "hoo-ra" of the year to start the next one off fresh. Games, food, and drinking were tradition in every household, and the Apple family was no exception, minus one Apple. Everyone else in the family made the visit a few times a year, a few times a month, if the situation felt right. But for Applejack, she made the trip once a year, usually about an hour before the final countdown.
She would slip out of the house and unwillingly begin her trek into the deeper part of the orchard with the sounds of distant fireworks in her head. She could see them light up the sky in the gaps in the trees and it made her sigh. As the fireworks began to slow, she knew she was getting closer. The final countdown would begin soon. Finally, she arrived, pushing her way through some frostbitten overgrowth, brushing the leaves with a frown. She kept her eyes on her boots until two small shadows grazed over them. She bit her lip and looked up.
There they were, two small tombstones, nearly impossible to find unless you knew the orchard the way the Apples did. Wind whipped the naked branches of the trees around her and the sound of popping fireworks had stopped. She shifted her feet uneasily, trying to focus on the snow crunching instead of the figures in front of her. She stifled a groan of frustration.
"C'mon Applejack," she muttered to herself. "Say somethin'."
She glanced at the tombstones again, as if she thought they could hear her. She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back on her heels. "Uh... hey, y'all," she chuckled. "Been a while, I s'pose. Um..."
She sighed, dropping her arms in defeat and shoving her gloved hands into the pockets of her jeans. What could she say? She looked through the trees to see only stars; no more fireworks yet. The countdown was happening soon, she needed to hurry.
"Applebloom is doin' good," she reported, looking back at the graves. "A real whiz in school. Heh, she could school me under a table at this point. Her little friends are handfuls but... I think y'all would've liked 'em. They're good influences on her." She pursed her lips, trying to think of another thing to say.
"Big Mac's just as... quiet as ever, and Granny just about blows up the kitchen every time she thinks up a new recipe."
And you?
The question hadn't been spoken but Applejack could have sworn one of them said it, a forgotten voice on the breeze. She squinted in concentration. What did their voices sound like again?
"I-I'm, uh..." she swallowed and looked out again, praying to see fireworks so she could go home, try this again next year, but the sky remained silent.
"I'm... fine," she decided. "The girls and I are fine, everything's fine, I am fine... Ugh!" She groaned, clutching her head with her hands. "That's not good enough," she scolded herself. "I always say that, it ain't enough."
Then say what you want.
There was that voice again, and she couldn't figure out if it was them or her own, locked away in her head. She glared at the tombstones, angry unshed tears making her vision blur. "Fine!" she yelled, ripping her hands away from her head and balling her fists up at her sides.
"You wanna know how I am?" she asked the graves. "I'm mad! I'm mad because instead of doin' what everyone else is doin' I'm here, talkin to NO ONE! I'm talkin' to a couple of rocks in the ground and I wish I wasn't. I wouldn't have to be doin' this if y'all were here."
She began to pace, her body tense. "But it's fine, because I'm used to it, I'm used to havin' things stolen," she spat out. "Childhood stolen, why not New Years parties? Just another thing y'all's deaths took away from me," she laughed, humorlessly. "Y'all die and suddenly I'm stuck in the middle. Big Mac is bitter Granny shuts down, and Applebloom is too young to know what's happenin' and I'm stuck in the middle." She squeezed her eyes shut and came to a stop in front of the tombstones again. Her eyes are chips of ice as she stares at them and in that moment she hates them.
“No more fun n' games, no more parties, no more sleepovers, just work work work, take care of Applebloom, make sure she and Granny eat, do Big Mac's work because he's too angry to do it. I stayed up til dawn doin' homework and studyin' and it's paid off! Cookin', cleanin', learnin' the paperwork to keep the farm afloat while Granny grieved, I did it all. Alone."
"But y'know what?" she asked the cold night air. "I didn't need help, and I 'specially didn't need it from y'all, because I turned out GREAT!" she cried, falling to her knees and gripping the left tombstone. "I'm gettin' good grades, I've got amazing friends who love me, I've saved the world, and y'all weren't around for none of it! I've turned out just fine without you."
"Other kids are stressin' about what they'll do after high school when they don't have their parents but I've been livin' it for years! I'm independent, I'm strong, and I. Didn't. Need. You. I don't need you."
She could feel the stone under her hands crack and she snatched them away, as if she'd been burned. It snapped her out of her rage and she hugged her hands to her chest, burying her face in them, feeling hot tears soak into her gloves. She sat there for moment, just breathing and listening to the wind in the trees, jumping as a loud crack echoed through the orchard and she looked up to see the sky ignite with millions of tiny sparks. They went up one by one, disappearing for a split second before exploding, casting a beautiful dance of shadows across her and the gravestones and the trees. She took in a deep, long breath and let it out slowly, watching the fireworks fill the sky.
She slowly rose to her feet and brushed off her jeans, putting her hands into her pockets again and with the fireworks lighting her path, she began the trek back to the house.
