Large beads of rain fell from the sky soaking Applejack to the bone. She paid the rain no heed. Her head hung low and her eyes were passive. She trudged through the thick mud of the path to her house. Upon reaching the porch, she wiped her hooves on the mat and carried on inside.
A dim fire burned in the hearth. Applejack pulled herself up to the table, at which her family sat. Each bore a serious expression, worry coated Big Mac’s face. Applejack pulled out a chair and slumped into it. Water dripped off her mane and left a puddle on the floor.
Granny Smith was the first to break the silence; “So?”
Applejack sighed and lifted her hat off her head with a hoof. Putting it down on the table on front of her she paused, before slumping her head onto it.
Her voice was but a whisper, “That’s it.”
“No...” Big Mac’s mouth jaw mouth slackened, his eyebrows scrunched. A tragic incredulity plagued his features.
“We’ve got six months. Six months to move out of Sweet Apple Acres.”
“But, AJ?” Applebloom interrupted, frantically trying to get up on the table and be seen.
“But nothin’, Applebloom,” Applejack rolled her head over to look at her sister, “that’s it. The debts are too large and this is the only way to settle them.”
Tears laced Applebloom’s eyes. She stuttered before bursting into tears and running out the room, slamming a door behind her.
Silence descended once more, sucking in all the warmth from the room.
Big Mac spoke softly, “For fifteen generations this farm’s been in th’ family. And here I hoped it would be for fifteen more.”
He stood up slowly and walked away. Granny Smith rose too, patting Applejack on the back.
“You tried, dear. You tried.”
Then she left. All was quiet, leaving Applejack to wallow in her misery.
Twilight and Applejack sat side by side, watching a movie. A stony atmosphere remained, neither mare knew what to say. Applejack had confided in Twilight, thinking she might know what to do. Applejack had at first felt hopeful, watching the other mare work so frantically to try and find some way out; some escape clause, but after what had seemed like an eternity, she gave up. The situation was hopeless.
Applejack looked over at Twilight, thankful for such a faithful friend. Twilight’s somewhat petite features were neatly outlined under the soft light of the screen.
The film had been Twilight’s idea. It had been for Applejack’s benefit, to take her mind off the whole thing. It wasn’t working.
Twilight had chosen a film called ‘The Matrix’. Philosophy for Twilight and action for Applejack.
Applejack thought the film was good, but how was she just supposed to sit here and forget her troubles.
Her eyes were restless, looking around the library, taking in all its detail: the shelves crammed with books, the furniture added as an afterthought, the window peering into the night and the rafters lit dimly under the candlelight.
Applejack looked over at the mare beside her, so happy in her own world, engrossed by the film. Twilight’s lips moved in sync to the audio, tracing out the words of particulary meaningful speeches.
Something stirred in Applejack’s heart, something restless and wild, something passionate.
Her voice was silky smooth. “Twilight.”
“Yeah?” Twilight turned from the film to look at her friend; her friend with half lidded eyes and her hooves crossed.
“I’ve never had the courage to say this to ya before, Twilight, but I think now might just be th’ time. I love you, Twilight.”
“Oh.”
Twilight’s mouth hung somewhat and her ears were perked, her body language was tense.
Applejack’s heart fell, gaining speed, falling through the floor. She scrambled to her hooves.
“Uh, I should go.”
“Okay,” Twilight slowly nodded her head, never removing her gaze from Applejack.
Applejack began to creep towards the door gaining speed until she was running. She was running faster than her mind could think, opening the door and running into the night. Running and never stopping, desperately trying to get away from her. She whom was dreamt about. Twilight Sparkle.
Ponyville hospital was always so very quiet, so very peaceful. The waiting room was pretty, a simple affair with minimalistic furniture, flowers and a few tatty magazines.
Big Mac paced the wooden floor over and over again. Granny Smith cried quietly, nestled in Applejack’s legs. Applejack held her closely, burying her face into her mane and basking in the comforting smell of her childhood.
The stillness was like torture for Applejack, the waiting grinding at her. Flares of impatience would rise every so often but she would quickly suppress them, not wanting to further upset her grandmother.
And then, the nurse entered.
Nurse Redheart was somber. She walked slowly, without the professional rush that usually accompanied medical ponies. She approached the family quietly and pulled up a chair. Big Mac sat down and Applejack and Granny Smith straightened up, bracing themselves.
“What is it, Miss?” Big Mac enquired. Black bags hung under his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” there was a pause as Nurse Redheart fell silent. “Applebloom has inoperable cancer.”
Silence opened up like a gulf, swallowing the feeling from Applejack’s heart.
“She’s had it for some time now, it’s too late to do anything.”
“No...” Big Mac trembled as the words fell out. “No, no, no. I just thought she was ill. I just thought she was tryin’ to use a cold as an excuse. NO!!!”
His words turned to wails. he collapsed to the floor and cradled himself. Nurse Redheart reeled backwards in shock as the stallion began to lash out blindly, gripped by grief.
Applejack just watched, as if she was watching television. She wanted to calm him, but she couldn’t. She felt numb. Oh so very numb.
The sky was dark, yet there was still no sign of Big Macintosh.
life had continued much the same at Sweet Apple Acres. Nobody mentioned Applebloom by name. Each member still went to visit her regularly, making her laugh and smile. But that smile never came home with them, never followed them back to where it belonged. And everyday, that smile became weaker and weaker, fading from the world inch by inch. Becoming so frail, withering away.
Like a flower in Autumn.
Few visitors popped by at that time. Many would visit Applebloom, but there was something about Sweet Apple Acres, something in the air, something brewing. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo had popped by once. They left in tears, never returning. Applejack’s friends rarely visited. Some said she needed the space, others said it wasn’t a time for a party. One didn’t talk about Applejack anymore. When they did pop by there’d be laughter, for a while. Followed by just more silence.
Big Mac had become quieter and more introverted. He would go for long walks and would sit by the fire brooding. Granny Smith just sat in her rocking chair sleeping sometimes, other times recounting stories to Applejack about her parents, and sometimes, just sometimes, she would cry; the light sobs of old age.
Applejack opened the door and began to walk. She was worried about Big Mac. She called his name but to no avail. She tried the livestock pens and she tried the fields, but he was nowhere to be found. On her way back to the house, she noticed the barn door had been left ajar. Going over to close it, she noticed light coming from inside.
She cautiously walked in. The hay was soft beneath her feet and the light was soft around her. She noticed a candle lit, sitting on a box.
She called out in a light voice, “Big Mac.”
She heard a creaking sound. Making her way around a pile of crates, she stopped still in her tracks.
There in front of her, swinging freely was Big Mac. Applejack threw up. A thick rope was tied to the rafters, swinging gently. Fastened to it around the neck was Big Mac. His eyes were closed. He was peaceful. Very peaceful.
Once again Applejack ran. She ran through mud and grass, back to the house, tears streaming down her face.
“GRANNY! GRANNY!”
Later that night they found a note. It read, “Sorry, AJ. I never was as strong as you.”
A pale yellow figure lay under the sheets. Applebloom breathed with weak shallow breaths. Her face was gaunt.
With eyes like big saucers she looked up at her sister and asked, “Sis, when’s Mac comin?”
“He’s not comin’ Applebloom. He’s never comin’ ever again.”
Applejack sat on a street corner, she didn’t know which one, but it didn’t matter. Tears soaked her cheeks. She tried to make a sound but whenever she sobbed, she just choked upon it.
A soft voice sounded, “Applejack, it’s Rainbow Dash, are you alright?”
Applejack opened her eyes and saw that azure face with concern etched all over it.
“No...”
…
…
…
“I just watched the second matrix film. It was awful.”
