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// The Drop into Oblivion 
// Story: Making Hearts Melt 
// by Faith Everlasting 
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		You may all know the story of how Rainbow Dash cared for my friends and I. You all may know about her final flight and how she gave up her life to save her friends. Applejack and I search for the body every afternoon, slowly walking besides each other and sharing the sound of silence. After the sun went down, we would exchange a hug and then both of us return home.
My story starts before Rainbow Dash’s ended. This is about me and how I struggled with not having my wings either. But there is a strange connection between the two of them. One that I would never have figured out until it was too late.


I don’t remember much of my fillyhood, but every so often a few images flash into my mind. I can see my mother, holding me in her arms and silently looking down at me. I smile up at her and reach my hooves out to touch her face, but she refuses to bring me closer. And instead of returning my innocent smile, all she does is scowl. I see her yelling at the doctor in the room and trying to shove me into his arms, but he won’t accept me. He tries to keep his tone calm, but she is still screaming. Why is she screaming? My mind flashes to another memory only days after the doctor incident occurred and I can see my mother wrapping me in a rough, wool blanket and placing me quietly into a basket. The winter wind of Cloudsdale is whipping violently against the sides of our make-shift house, making me cower inside the safety of my basket. She opens the door and a huge gust of wind hits me squarely in the face, making me cry out in shock. She shushes me and we then leave the partial warmness of our home. Walking down the frozen streets of Cloudsdale, she stops at every home, knocking loudly upon the doors. The doors open, my mother talks to somepony inside, they look into the basket, exclaim in disgust, and then slam the door in our faces. I was getting awfully cold as the snow continued to blow harder and harder. Every house she tried was a failure, all of them slamming the doors in our faces until finally she had had enough. She growled in frustration, scooped up my basket, and began to trot towards the edge of Cloudsdale. When we arrived, I looked over the edge of my basket and saw the city of Ponyville lying very far beneath me. My mother held my precious basket over the edge of oblivion, huffing and puffing in the coldness of the air and out of her rage.
“I can’t take this anymore,” she says, with a little difficulty since she was holding my basket high into the air. “I didn’t want you! I never wanted you!” A single tear of pity slides down her cheek, but quickly freezes in the chill of the air and of her heart. I give a small whimper as my basket begins to slip from the hold of her teeth and I give a small cry as the cold wind blasts me again. Then I heard the last word that my mother would ever speak to me, “Goodbye”. She lets go.
I remember every second of that fall to this day. The sharp wind biting me as the basket flipped over and over again. I tried to cry, but the wind swallowed up my shrieks of terror and the tears on my face only served to make me colder. I didn’t know why she had dropped me. I could still see her hazel eyes gazing harshly into mine and I could feel the coldness in her heart. Why didn’t she want me? Why didn’t she love me? I didn't know the answers, but I knew that this was the end of my short life. Cloudsdale became further and further away until it disappeared behind the howling snow. I couldn't see anything or hear anything except for the wind blowing into my ears.
Suddenly, I heard somepony scream loudly in horror and seconds later I felt somepony’s hooves beneath the basket, catching me from my certain death. I refused to open my eyes and look at my rescuer, afraid that they would see me and drop me again, completing my mother’s mission. I tried to bury myself under the coarse blanket, until I felt a hoof softly touch my chest. I gazed at it. A pale yellow color against my periwinkle coat. Then I looked up and I saw her. Her light pink mane was blowing wildly in the wind and her yellow coat was covered by a thick, white and purple bathrobe, and her eyes… her turquoise eyes looked down into my light green ones. I felt… warm. I timidly brought my hoof up to touch hers and I gave a soft little sigh. Then she smiled. She actually smiled!
“Don’t worry, little one,” she cooed. “Fluttershy’s going to take good care of you,” With those words, she took me and my basket and hovered back to her cottage. Surrounding her home were countless numbers of holes and burrows and a few abandoned nests scattered her trees. A curious bear cub poked his head out of his hole until his mother growled at him to come back inside. The pony who called herself ‘Fluttershy’ giggled at the innocence of the cub and then opened the door to her home and hovered inside. A warm fire glowed inside the small living room and a record player softly sang music in the corner. Fluttershy picked me up from the basket and removed the wool blanket from me. Suddenly, she gasped and dropped the blanket to the floor. She stared at me in shock and confusion. I giggled at her funny face and reached out my hoof to touch her face. It took a few seconds for her to come back to me, but she eventually smiled, her eyes filling to the brim with tears.
“Welcome home…” she began, wrapping me in a different and softer blanket no doubt made out of cotton. “Perfect.” That’s what she called me. Then she placed me softly on her bright green couch and kissed my forehead. I don’t know why she loved me, and I still don’t know to this very day, but all that mattered was that she did love me and that I was finally… home.