Invisible Walls

by Harmony Charmer

Epilogue

"Mrs.Caroline? They're here to see you now."

I had barely registered what was said, let alone who had said it. Age does that to a person, I suppose.

"Lucy, you know me enough not to call me 'Mrs' anymore," I replied with a rasp, turning towards her with a smile. God knows it was difficult to do.

Lucy returned the smile, but it was strained. She knew my humor was a shield. "You're really not afraid, are you? Of what's gonna happen?"

I shook my head tenderly. Moving was extremely difficult. "I learned to face my fears ages ago. I've told you that enough, Lucy."

Lucy titled her head to the side and she held her clipboard to her chest just a little tighter. "'Giggle at the ghosties'," she murmured nostalgically.

I chuckled, but it faded into a grunt. "Lord help all those ears I've talked off with that phrase."

Lucy nodded slightly, and she said nothing in return. I believe it was because of those tears in her eyes that she turned away and to the door. She knows I hated to see people cry.

With a white knuckled hand, Lucy opened the door to my pink-walled room. Almost immediately, I heard the familiar pitter-patter and scurrying of little feet, the sound of which causing me to smile and my heart to break slightly.

"Grandma!" said a chorus of shouts.

I turned my head and smiled at the beautiful, bright-eyed creations before me. There was Tony, a mischievous eyed, dark haired troublemaker eight year-old who had a thing for sparklers and fireworks. His eyes sparked like the explosives he loved so much and his smile was as just as bright.

Then there was little Allison, who was six. She was shy and quiet, but when you got her to talk, she couldn't shut up. Her blonde curls were in their signature pig tails and they bounced with her as she tried to climb onto the bed, but to no avail. Her pink dress was bunched up and her shoes were on wrong, as usual. Her poor mother must have tried so hard to fix them.

And the oldest of them all, was Caroline, named after your truly. She, too, was a blonde, but you wouldn't have known at the moment, on account of the pink hair dye that covered her head. She hadn't taken the time to even curl it, I soon saw, as it laid limply against her head. She must have been upset, then, which was completely understandable. She was the only one of my grandbabies to know the truth.

"Hi, little ones," I greeted, but it was slightly broken. God, I hate these sorts of things.

"Grandma," Caroline said, her voice weak, "how are you feeling? Do you need me to get you something?"

Bless that child, and her heart. No one could see how broken up she was. "No, Cupcake, I'm just Pinkie keen."

She smiled, but I could see her eyes shining. "OK, Grandma. I just wanted to make sure."

I smiled back at her, the most I could at the moment. "Where's your mother?"

"I'm here, Mama," I heard a light voice say.

I turned my head to the doorway, where I saw my sweet daughter standing. She was leaning against the door frame, but it wasn't casual in any sense. She was clinging onto the frame tightly, her knuckles white as she clung onto something to support her. Lucy was next to her, who fared no better, but she clung onto her clipboard instead.

"Mom," Caroline said quietly, "how long?"

Her mother shook her head. "Not long."

Tony and Allison frowned. "Do we have to leave?" Tony asked, "We just got here!"

Caroline put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "We came yesterday, Tone, remember? We got to... we got to spend all day with Grandma."

Allison pouted. "But I like seeing her!"

Caroline's face wavered. "I know," she replied in a wobbly voice, "I do, too."

"Kids..." their mother said softly, "can you go wait in the hall?"

The little ones looked like they wanted to argue, but Caroline cut them off. "Alright. Come on, you two."

Tony and Allison tried to scurry off, but Caroline had gotten a good hold on them and she drug them out of the room. I couldn't help but notice the tears in her eyes as she did.

As soon as they were gone, my daughter came up to my bed, her arms held together tightly as she forced her way over. Lucy stepped out of the room, her hand over her mouth as she turned away. She had no reason to be there anymore. She had already said goodbye.

"Mama..." she said as she knelt beside my bed. She put her hands over mine, her unblemished hands so strange next to my aged ones.

"Diane, you know I don't like see you upset," I told her in a chiding tone.

Diane shook her head. "Mama, I already lost Daddy. I don't wanna lose you, too."

I smiled at her, but for the first time that day, I didn't even bother to hold back the tears in my eyes. "I know, Diane. He was a good man."

She chuckled, but it came out weak and wispy as she shed tears of her own. "Mama, I'm scared. I don't wanna say goodbye."

"I don't, either," I told her, "but you know why we have to."

She shook her head. "I wish those doctors weren't right. I wish that you were fine."

"I am fine," I reminded her, giving her another smile, "I'll always be fine."

Diane breathed in raggedly. "Mama, you're sick. Real sick. You're not fine."

"You're here, aren't you?" I asked.

She wiped her eyes. "I can't help but think of all those times you said that I shouldn't be scared. That I had to... That I had to laugh 'em away." She scoffed lightly. "I don't think I can laugh this away."

"You can't," I told her as I shed tears of my own, "believe me, I've tried."

She gripped my hands. "Do you remember all those times I'd come running into you and Daddy's room, crying about some awful nightmare I had? And how you used to sing me a song to make me feel better, even if it was the silliest thing?"

"I never forgot." My voice had long since broken.

"I do that with the kids, even Caroline, when she's real upset," Diane told me, "she always calls me names because of it, but she's always smilin' afterwards."

I couldn't hold my smile anymore. "You never told me that."

Diane let out a weak sigh. "I thought it was a silly thing to do. But, now I see what you were tryin' to do. You hate seein' people sad, Mama. And I understand how that feels, too."

I gripped her hand. "Sweetheart..."

"Mama," Diane said softly, "for once in my life... Can I do something to make sure you're not sad?"

I let out a weak, ragged sob. "Just being here is doing that."

Diane shook her head. "No. For once, let me make you feel better the way you did for me." She chuckled lightly. "God knows I can't sing a lick, but it's not gonna stop me."

I wanted to speak, but I found I couldn't as emotions overfilled me. Either that, or I was losing all of my bodily functions. Either or.

Diane took a deep, ragged breath and she closed her tear-filled eyes. Finally, she opened her mouth.

I felt my heart skip a beat. Sweet Lord, how long has it been since I heard that song?

I looked at Diane's tear-streaked face. She was tone deaf as all get out, but that wasn't going to stop her.

I closed my eyes and sighed in remembrance of the first time I sang that song. I don't know if it was real or not, but that didn't mean it wasn't special to me in any way. Little Pinkie and her sisters, all huddled together and laughing and singing along in the most ridiculous manner...

I froze. Wait, did she just say... Pinkie?

She stopped singing, and it was silent. Not sure what to think, or why she stopped at all, I opened my eyes. And I swear to you, I would've fallen to the ground if possible.

Standing in front of me, where Diane had been, was none other than Pinkie Pie, my sweetheart, my angel, my hero. She was no longer that little filly I spent a year with, but rather the mare that she was meant to become. The one that had inspired me, and I her.

But, she wasn't alone.

Standing by her side were Blinkie, Inkie, Clyde and Sue, all of whom were looking at me with the kindest smiles I've ever seen. Inkie and Blinkie had grown up like Pinkie had, but Sue and Clyde didn't seem to have aged a day. I couldn't help but gape at what I was seeing.

"Ha, ha, ha," Pinkie said, her smile unwavering, "Hi."

I somehow managed to regain my sense and I replied in the most dorkish manner, "Pinkie Pie?"

She giggled, a sound I never thought I'd ever have the pleasure of hearing again. "Uh-huh."

Blinkie leaned forward and put a hoof over my hand. By God, they were real! "It's good to see you again."

Inkie giggled. "It's weird, seeing you so old now."

Sue smacked her foreleg. "Inkie!"

I put a hand to my mouth. "How are you all here?" I felt like crying again, only I wasn't entirely sure it was because I was sad.

Pinkie shrugged. "Dunno. Just wanted to see you."

I blinked in shock. "But... I thought that--"

"No, Caroline, I don't hate you," Pinkie told me, "I don't know why I said that and it was stupid to say." Her smile wavered. "I feel awful about saying it."

I felt tears come to my eyes. "Pinkie... You don't have to..."

She put a hoof over my hand, like Blinkie had. "Inkie's right. It is weird, seeing you so... grown up. You look really, really different now."

I smiled at her tenderly. "Well, I am 76. A lot happens in that lifetime."

Pinkie smiled at me. "I'm gonna miss you."

"I haven't stopped missing you," I blurted out, "I haven't stopped missing any of you."

Pinkie's smile wavered. "I know. I haven't, either." She looked at everyone else. "None of us have."

I paused for a moment. "Am I dead?"

Pinkie shook her head. "No. Not yet, anyway."

"So, where am I, then?" I asked, "Am I dreaming again?"

"I don't think so," Pinkie told me, "I just... I don't know." She looked down. "Did you really name your daughter after me?"

I felt tears in my eyes. "Yes, but she goes by her middle name instead. She thinks her first name is too embarrassing."

Pinkie pouted. "What the hay is wrong with Pinkamena?"

I smiled and shook my head. "I don't know. She's weird like that."

Pinkie looked into my eyes. "This is it, huh? This is goodbye?"

I nodded. "Yeah." I didn't even bother to smile again, knowing it would be fake. "It is. At least I get to say it this time."

I suddenly felt everyone else's hooves go over my hand, and I looked at all of their sad faces. Their eyes said what their mouths couldn't: that I was forgiven, even though I most certainly didn't deserve to be. I had abandoned them and left them alone, with only letters to explain my leaving. I shouldn't have received their love, or their forgiveness, but that wasn't going to stop them.

Pinkie frowned. "It's time."

"Already?" I must have sounded like a child, I knew.

"Yeah," Pinkie told me, "I don't wanna say goodbye." She had tears in her eyes.

"I don't, either!" I exclaimed, tears running down my face.

I grabbed Pinkie's hoof. "Don't leave me! I don't wanna say bye to you!"

Pinkie's tears finally fell as she shook her head. "I love you, Caroline."

"We all do," Clyde told me, the first thing he had said since his arrival.

I shook my head. "I wish I had never run out of the house. I wish I had never--"

Pinkie shook her head. "Caroline... Remember what you left behind in this world..."

Suddenly, I wasn't in that bed anymore. I was back in that classroom, on the first day of class in high school. I was sitting in that seat, behind Amanda and in front of who would be the man I would marry and the father of my daughter, Seth. He had been the first to compliment me, and the first to understand who I was aspiring to be.

I gasped when I recalled laying in a hospital bed, but I was hardly near peace. In fact, I was in excruciating pain. My poor, poor husband's hand was broken in at least three places from how hard I was squeezing it. But, it was all worth it when I got to hold sweet, little Diane in my arms afterwards. I didn't even care that that first birth would be my last.

I then recalled every single time I held Diane in my arms when she had woke up screaming her head off, and every single time I sang a silly little song to make her feel better. It then became more frequent when Seth died in an awful traffic accident, the remembrance of which causing a slight twinge of pain in my heart.

Then, there was the time where I myself was on the other side of spectrum, coaching Diane through her first birthing experience as well. Her husband fared no better than mine, which made me feel a little sad knowing that he couldn't be there to see his first granddaughter being born. I felt tears in my eyes as I recalled how Diane had told me that she was naming her baby after me.

Then, there were the two times after, where Tony, then Allison came into our world. And every year that followed, where I got to help Diane through it all, even when she and her beloved split up after one too many arguments.

And, as Diane's voice dwindled away, though I can't be sure if it was on her part or mine, I realized that Pinkie had been right. I had left good things in this world, Diane being the most important of them all. I know she will remember all the lessons I taught her and I know that my grandbabies will, too. Because, in the end, sometimes, all you gotta do is...