Slow, soft, lethal

Gloomy clouds flew over Ponyville, as another day set its end. The sun timidly escaped from view as the night marched forward, encompassing with darkness everything and all that stood on its way.

As birds withdraw to their nest and the few nocturnal ponies start their night, the peace of the night seemingly muffles the lively sounds of the day, making this mare’s gallop ever so noticeable as the crunching of her hooves hitting the cold gravel path echoed through the buildings decorating the nightly landscape.

Carrying her saddlebags full to the brim, Redheart made her way back home, with a tired face and a steady pace.

Her house’s old and heavy wooden door opens slowly, creaking all the way as if whining to be left alone by the mare who pushes it open. The main room awaited for her entrance, it was small and cozy, if not a bit messy. A bed laid in the middle of the room, a sofa against the wall beside a table and some chairs, a door to the kitchen and one to the bathroom. It was no luxury suite, but it was enough for her needs.

Without hesitation, the mare tosses her saddlebag onto a nearby chair and crawls onwards to bed, head first, eyes closed.

A sigh escaped her, along with all the stress and anguish her job gave her. It was in moments like these, that she could almost feel his warmth.

Every day was just the same, work, home, eat, sleep, eat, repeat. She never realized just how tiring it all was, how could she endure it in the past?

The routine that was taking such a toll on her was not even an alien concept, but the life she had been living for as long as she has been in Ponyville.

Every day she would come back home, just to be bombarded by thoughts carrying all of the problems, all of the anguish and all of the stress she went through at the hospital; Not even the spa could help her. Worst of all, when she did get but a moment to use her mind herself, all of the debts and the crippling loneliness which had been lurking her shadow these past few months would ambush her and take her down.

Redheart sighs, as she turns on the bed, staring at the ceiling. A sudden thought fills her eyes with tears, as her chest starts to burn:

“If only I had never met him” She shields her chest with her hooves and attempts to speak; A sob comes out, and she finds herself turning back towards the mattress and burying her face on the pillow.

“I-It would b-be better” The sobbing took over her words, as her emotions took her body. It was yet another night of denial for her to withstand.