Stitches
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick
I don't have enough time. The clock, usually calm and rhythmic, only makes my heart beat faster. What am I supposed to do?
When the doorbell rings, I'm not ready. Not in the slightest. My quivering breath catches in my throat, and I sit unmoving on my couch. Undeterred, the bell's sweet and high chime rings through the boutique once more, jerking me from my panic-induced stupor.
I swallow thickly, standing up from my seat with wobbling legs. I glance back down at the book residing on top of the cushions, an old fable borrowed from Twilight. As I bite my lip, I walk almost blindly towards the front door. What was the book about? I haven't the faintest idea.
My hoof reaches out for the knob as the ringing fades, my heart pounding within my chest. I can't just leave her, of course. Her. Perhaps it's not her, after all? Had I forgotten the time she had scheduled? Maybe it's just a salespony, a colt scout, a... The door is open, oh goodness!
Any hope I had grasped at vanishes in a wave of realization as the pony looks up at me. "Ditzy," I murmur softly at the gray-coated mare, my breath cutting short. The sky beyond her is clear and blue, the sun bright and warm—but her sunflower yellow eyes hold a thousand dark rainstorms.
"H-hi there, Rarity," comes the mailmare's quiet reply, her ears pressed back. She has a plain, woolen scarf wrapped around her neck, and a small pouch grasped in her hooves. We stand there for a what feels like an eternity, the wind dancing across fur, and perhaps both wishing this moment didn't have to exist.
It takes my own will to fall back into her rainy, wonderful eyes, and step away with a forced smile upon my muzzle. "Will you come in, darling?" Heavens, I wish I knew what to say.
Ditzy Doo seems at a loss for words as well, her messy mane covering half her face. She looks beyond tired. No longer does this mare bear a carefree grin and an unceasing bubbly giggle; instead her forehead is lined with new wrinkles, and her lips pull down into a perpetual frown. Finally, her head jerks sideways from outside and she manages a nod.
I close the door behind her slouched form, leading her uncertainly to the table in the kitchen as I hang up her belongings. “Would you like...some tea, Ditzy?” I ask with a false lilt, wiping away the sweat gathering on my brow.
Ditzy sits herself down, ear twitching as she takes in my kitchen. It’s then that I realize she’s never been in my house before. Do I really know anything about this mare? Her mouth moves as if to say something, before she takes in a deep breath.
“Tea…” she rubs her hooves together. “Tea is nice.”
That’s it; those three simple words spoken from her lips. Somehow, I think it took effort just to say that. Nice? How can anything be nice after... Rarity, stay focused! I choke down on a whimper.
“Do you mind which kind of tea?”
Ditzy blinks, and her features contort just a bit...like she’s in pain. “Chamomile.”
I remain silent, waiting for her to say something else, but she stays mute. I sigh, turning away from my houseguest to the cabinets above me. I rummage around for the chamomile tea bags, keenly aware of Ditzy’s presence behind me.
As the hot water boils up to the ceiling in white, thick clouds, I hear Ditzy cough quite purposely. I cock my head, carefully dropping the teabags in and arranging the china cups just so.
“My little muffin’s favorite kind is chamomile.”
I freeze, the only sound being the beating of my heart and the boiling clouds. I almost wish to dip my head inside and let everything be consumed. It takes all my willpower to turn around and face her. "Mine too," I whisper out, immediately feeling my face flare up in warmth at how much of an insensitive fool I sound.
Ditzy doesn't move, and her face remains devoid of an emotion. Empty? Is that a true emotion? I chew my tongue as my blush fades, studying her. She doesn't say anything else, so I'm forced to return to my position over the stove, berating myself under my breath.
When the tea is ready, I carefully pour it into the white cups, levitating it up in my magic. I sit down across from the mare, placing a cup in front of each of us. The hot tea sends swirling wisps of heat up into the air, reaching my muzzle. I take a sip, allowing the many flavors of the familiar brew to reach my taste buds.
Clicking the teacup back down on the glass table, I cock my eyebrow slightly at Ditzy's untouched one. I've always wondered quite how earth ponies and pegasi complete such tasks without the aid of magic, but it never seemed to come up in conversation.
Applejack and Pinkie Pie do have a certain magic about them, either way. But I know that even if Ditzy wanted to drink, she wouldn't have. I don't blame her. As the silence settles around us, I let my mind drift back to what little I know about her.
I've always admired Ditzy from afar. Yes, we're friendly, I suppose, and I'm never one to be exclusive; but having a tight circle of friends like my girls makes it a bit less of my top priority to have more. Although some ponies only see a bumbling and, well, ditzy mare, I see a strong soul. Although I never got her exact age, it's very clear that Ms. Doo is younger than me—perhaps by more than half a decade! And then there's...her daughter.
Despite her young age, Ditzy was able to raise a beautiful and healthy foal, one that Sweetie Belle had made friends with. Yet, Ditzy's all by herself, after that brute of a stallion left her soon before birth. She never gave up, always wore a strong face for her daughter.
I thought Ditzy had managed to get over him, and create a bright future for her daughter, until...
Until. Such an ominous word, full of so many opportunities...and omens. I take another ginger sip of my tea, trying to unstick my throat. I swallow, finally breaking the silence and placing my shaking hooves over Ditzy's own.
She came for a dress. I've done it a few times before for other ponies, each time leaving me feeling like I swallowed lead. But this time, it's so much harder.
"I'm sorry," I say. A mistake.
Ditzy doesn't move her hooves, thankfully, and seems to shiver slightly.
Sorry is for accidentally cutting off your older sister's hair. Sorry is for being rude at school. Sorry is for taking something without asking.
Sorry
is
not
for
death.
I hold my gaze steady on the mare's, hoping for a response. What more can I say? And then, as an ancient building—she crumbles.
Ditzy's stoic, glassy expression breaks, and her rainy eyes flicker back to life as she lets out a wail. It starts off low and rumbling like thunder in the distance, but soon escalates into a high, warbling cry. I flinch as Ditzy screams, a sound ripping right from her throat, raw and pure. I feel something horrible claw up my stomach, and my eyes burn. Her howl is like a wounded animal found by a predator. A mother who's lost a child.
Ditzy's foreleg slams into the glass table, sending spiderweb cracks along the surface, and her untouched teacup flying up into the air. The hot liquid sprays across her gray coat and the cup crashes into a million pieces on the hardwood floor with a shattering cry. Ditzy tilts, and falls with it, as if she can't hold herself up anymore, and somepony's screaming.
It takes me a moment to realize it's me. "Darling! Darling! Ditzy Doo!" I yell, stumbling madly after her as her soft body smacks against the floor, sending the sharp shards scattering across. Ditzy ignores me completely, and curls up in a ball, more vulnerable-looking than I have ever seen her. Her entire thin form shakes unceasingly. I suck in a breath, clutching up her head and forcing her chin up. "Listen to me!"
Ditzy just jerks her head away from my grasp, face pooling with tears. She lets out another bawl, and buries her face into her hooves.
I feel helpless. This is getting way out of control. I reach out a touch her again, watching as she flinches. My mouth goes dry when I catch a hint of red mixed in with the brown tea. No, Rarity, you can do it! She needs your help, now!
I take a step back, enveloping her in a familiar light blue glow. Ditzy flails upon being lifted up, but I pull her into the bathroom. When I release her, the mailmare collapses into a sobbing mess on the white rug. I quickly pull out a cloth and run it under cold water.
Ditzy makes a small mewling sound but does not pull back, as I gently wipe her cut belly and tea-stained fur. Up and down, back and forth goes the cool cloth. I'm struck with the very strange thought of cleaning up a foal. With just a moment of hesitation, I rub away her tears.
Finally, Ditzy takes a deep breath in, avoiding my glance. It's too late, I've seen what she's hiding inside. It's best we both stop pretending, being fake. This is real.
Dinky is dead.
I bring my mouth close to her ear, stroking her mane. "Darling, pull it together."
Ditzy chews on her lip, chest heaving. No reply. I pull her up without a word, leading the stumbling pony behind me and out of the suffocating bathroom. My mind racing, I find the couch—the living room couch, mind you, not my fainting couch...it doesn't seem appropriate. We sit down together on the worn, soft cushions, but not before I wrap her up in a quilt. It's the least I can do for her.
Ditzy hiccups, accepting the blanket and tightening it around her withers. She buries her wet face into my neck, earning a surprised "ooh!" from me. She shivers with each gasp and wraps her forelegs around my breast.
I close my eyes for a second as the heat from her body seeps into mine. Usually, such an intimate action from somepony I hardly know would spark something, but I know it means nothing. I'm simply a life preserver in an ocean of ice.
I lean against her head, returning the rather awkward embrace. "Ditzy... you can cry. I, of all ponies, understand. It's just..."
Ditzy moans, sniffling. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," she whispers.
I run my tongue over my mouth. "S-sorry? Whatever for?"
Ditzy pulls away a fraction of an inch from my fur. "I-I broke your pretty cup and the nice glass table, and then...then I started crying like a filly! I'm sorry I ruined your whole morning and day. You don't have to worry about something like me, Rarity. All I wanted was a silly dress, but it's not even worth it."
I furrow my brow, bringing the mare closer. "Of course, it's worth it! I will absolutely help you, darling. And don't you worry about those...old things. I can get them fixed, not doubt." I sigh. "The funeral dress can wait. Right now, do you think we can talk about your baby?" I know this is painful for her, Celestia, I can see it. Sometimes, though, pain is the process of healing.
Ditzy squeaks, tears mixing against my pristine coat. "M-my baby?"
I nod, though I'm unsure if she notices. "Your...muffin, was it?" I ask softly. "You loved her, didn't you?"
I'm not stupid. Any pony can see plainly that this mare loves her daughter so much, so painfully much that it becomes nearly unbearable. But I need to hear her say it. Get out just how special her baby was to her. I understand what it's like to love someone like that. So much that sometimes you wish they were your own blood.
Ditzy's chin quivers. "I loved her more than you would ever know. I loved her more than I thought possible, R-Rarity. Dinky's all I hav... had." My shoulder grows damper.
I pat her back gingerly. "I know, I know. Love is beautiful, isn't it?" I feel her nod yes.
"It is! There was this really special day, you know?" she asks breathily, swallowing hard. The colorful blanket is pulled tighter.
I hum. "Oh? What-what day was that?" Please, let this be a happy, good memory.
Ditzy sits up unsteadily, her hooves gliding over my mane. "December twelfth, 1002," she replies immediately. She's looking across the room now. "It was snowy, almost Hearth's Warming, right? Snowing big, fat snowflakes from the sky. The kind that Dinky loved to play in and make snowponies in."
She giggles rawly, a strange noise.
"I would join her sometimes. But that day, it was really special 'cause she was finally there with me. I remember laying on the crinkly white paper on the bed. And I was really in pain, but it was all fuzzy for some reason. And then the doctor held up a tiny little pony in his hooves... that kinda looked like me. She had a little horn on her head, and the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen," Ditzy says quietly. "I wasn't really sure until then. If I could handle the responsibility, or anything else. But the moment I was holding my little Dinky in my arms, and she was making noises and smiling at me, I knew it was right. Have you ever had that feeling, Rarity?" she asks.
But she's not looking at me, and I don't respond.
"Yep," she hums thickly. "I-I knew it was right, and everything fell into place. I promised I wasn't gonna let hi-him ever, ever hurt my angel like he had hurt me. And I never break promises. But...but then I hurt her..." Ditzy breaks from her tale and collapses onto me again. "It was all my fault!" she cries with a shuddering breath. "All my fault, and now..."
I bite my lip so hard I draw blood, nudging her up roughly. "Now, now, Ditzy!" I choke out through a rush of unwanted tears. Protect her baby, that's all she wanted. My mother, when I was hardly above flank-height, would tell my time and time again how much she loved me. How she would punish me for the best reasons. "Ditzy!"
The mare isn't listening. She's clinging even tighter to me, mumbling words over and over. I try to free myself to get her attention, but only succeed in her pressing her face against mine. "Ditzy, stop this!"
Ditzy pauses, surprisingly. "R-Rarity? Am I making...making you uncomfortable?" she draws back a foot, face decorated red. "I'm sorry, I don't want to, and I'm hugging you too much..."
The moment she leaves, I feel a sense of loss. She needs this. "No, don't worry at all! If you want to hug me, by all means, do! It's the least—" she dives onto me, gasping. I smile a twisted smile through my tears, and return the 'affection.'
"Listen to me, alright?" I ask. "Listen. This is not your fault. It's no one's fault, believe me. You have to, darling. I know that every pony—"
"Do you know?" she interrupts, wings twitching. "What happened?"
"What-what happened?" As soon as I speak, it hits me. "No! I mean, not exactly," I reply quickly. I press my ears back. "Do you want to tell me?"
Ditzy presses her lips together. "Yes. I think I do," she says, almost inaudible to my ears. She inhales in, and then breathes out, her warm breath on my fur. "I mess up sometimes. Well, a lot, I guess, if you listen to the ponies at the post office. I'm...just a klutz, forgetting things, doing this and that. But I'll never forgive myself for this mistake. You've made mistakes, too, right, Rarity? I-I can't be the only one that does this. I bet you've never, never done something so horrible as what I've done..." she chokes out, her voice warbling.
"Darling, I—" Ditzy looks away, and I see she's shaking.
"It's okay, okay, okay, okay, okay!" she mutters. "It is. Just a story. And I..." She squeezes her large eyes shut. "My baby was playing in the living room, with her little doll named Miss Sunny. Miss Sunny was yellow, and I made it just for her. I was making muffins, my favorite kind, which was blueberry, in the kitchen. Everything smelled so nice and warm, like the air was giving me a big hug. I never wanted to leave. I knew my baby loved muffins, so I was gonna give it to her after it came out of the oven.
"B-but my stupid, stupid fuzzy brain kept forgetting that-that my baby said her tummy was hurting a little bit before, and I hadn't gotten her medicine yet, but that was okay, all okay because then I went to give her the muffins and see if she was feeling better and she was taking a nap! W-who doesn't love naps, right? They're almost like sleeping, and make you feel all dizzy after you first wake up, but they're kinda sleepy and nice.
"And my little baby was sleeping on the couch, curled up with her tiny mouth open like she does when she's sleeping really hard, and her beautiful hair was falling over her muzzle and her eyes were closed ever so gently and her chest was rising and fa—and her chest...chest was all furry. I put the muffins down on the floor and-and my baby looked so adorable and sweet on the couch, that I leaned down and kissed her right underneath her horn because s-she really likes that. And so I thought she would look up at me and giggle, but she didn't, so I-I shook her a little bit.
"Then I shook her again, a little harder, and then again, again, again, again but she didn't wake up, but she didn't wake, she didn't WAKE UP! I-I wasn't sure what to do, and I looked around at the room, it was spinning a lot... and so I found the cabinet that was left wide open, and I saw my special Mommy pills for when I got sad feelings and it...it was empty! She had eaten every single one of them, and then j-just fallen asleep! I've told her so, so many times to never ever touch them! But...but my baby was fine, of course, right? So-so I sat down by the couch with her, a-and we just ate the cookies together."
I find myself up against Ditzy again, yet this time, it's me who's hugging her. I lift my hoof up to my cheek, coming away wet and smeared with black. "H-how could you go through that?" I choke out, my words barely decipherable against my tears. I feel sick.
Ditzy opens and closes her mouth a few times. "I-I don't think I did," she breathes. "And it's all my fault."
This snaps me awake. "No," I say slowly, but surely. It's the tone of voice that lets Sweetie Belle know I'm so very serious.
Ditzy's sunflower eyes seem to come together and focus right on me for a brief moment. "No?" she whimpers, drops trailing down her face.
I grit my teeth. "Ditzy Doo, listen to me. You are one of the sweetest, kindest, and most well-meaning ponies I know. Do you honestly think that was your fault?" I ask in a low voice.
Ditzy whimpers. "Ye—
"No." I cut her off. "It is not. Dinky...she loved you, didn't she? You were her mother, and you always took care of her. You cannot blame yourself for this. It was a mistake, though a horrible, horrible mistake. But it was not yours, nor Dinky's. It was...Fate's," I say softly.
Ditzy blinks slowly, tears beading on her lashes. "Fate?"
I swallow hard. "Well, I believe that certain things are set in stone. They are destined to be, and can't be changed. I was destined to be an Element of Harmony, and you were destined to have a wonderful, amazing daughter."
Ditzy flinches. "A daughter who was taken away from me?" she cries, ears flicking. She moves on the couch closer to me.
I sigh. "Y-yes. Nopony can go back and alter it. I'm so sorry. Even if it's the worst thing possible that could ever happen, it still did. You couldn't possibly know that Dinky would do that. You tried your best, and I promise you that you're not at fault," I whisper, my throat dry. "You were a great mother, Ditzy."
Ditzy leans back, golden sunlight from the window filtering onto her mane. It makes her look otherworldly. "I just miss my muffin," she says, but it doesn't sound like she's even talking to me. "I miss her a lot."
I search her face carefully. "Of course, you do," I breathe. "Of course, you do." Who wouldn't? I sometimes even miss Sweetie Belle, lying awake at night. Wondering what she's thinking. Remembering the times I used to sing to her when she was little, when she would look up at me with a little teddy bear in her forearms and slowly drift off to sleep. What would it be like if she never opened her eyes again?
I don't care that another hot tear slides down my face. "I-I..."
Ditzy bows her head down. "I forget sometimes. I hope that when I look up, I'll see her running down the hallway to me, laughing and smiling with a little sleeping hat on. I'll see her baking cookies with me. But I don't. I want to hear her voice again. See her get her cutie mark like the rest of her class! But she's gone! I want my baby back!" she wails.
I pull the blanket over myself as well with a burst of magic. "Ditzy... of course you miss her. You might never stop missing Dinky. And I know it's hard, but I don't want you to," I tell her. "Never stop thinking about her. I want you to remember every single detail about her, the way she laughs, the way she talks, who she is as a pony. Can you do that?" I ask.
Ditzy flattens her ears. "I would never forget her! But—"
"But," I interrupt, "only the good memories. The bright and shiny ones. I bet you have endless amounts of those, yes?"
Ditzy finally cracks a watery smile. "I-I do."
I glance down at the ground. "I'm telling you this because I don't want you to be like the mare that walked through my door earlier. She... she wasn't feeling much, was she? She was pretending that this wasn't real, even though it was, wasn't she?" I say, raising my eyebrow.
I rub the side of my face. "Although, I suppose I was fake, too," I admit, watching her with one eyelid closed. She's silent.
Without a word, Ditzy stands up, part of the blanket dropping to the floor. She turns woozily on her hooves, and stumbles to the black hanger by the door, lifting her up pouch with her mouth.
"Rarity, how much for the dress?"
I stare at the pouch she's placed on the couch, lips parted.
It takes me a moment to find my voice. "Ditzy, I wouldn't even dream of taking money from you. This is for your daughter, and I will do this for her because she deserves it!" That's not to say I wasn't thinking of charging her originally, but now I just...can't.
Ditzy pushes the pouch forward. "But-but, I'm just paying in advance! Should I do it after, maybe, because—"
I shake my head vigorously. My mind is set. And when Rarity's mind is set, she never changes it. "Ditzy, I can't. I will make you this dress for free, and that's the end of it," I say firmly.
Ditzy furrows her brow but doesn't object. "Rarity," she starts at last, "can you make it the most beautiful dress in the world?"
I blink away tears. "The most beautiful dress in the universe," I correct, with a strangled giggle.
Ditzy rummages around in the worn pouch, finally pulling out a framed photo. "Make it yellow, please," she says, placing the picture down. "It's her favorite 'cause it's a h-happy color. And lots of ribbons, okay?" She covers her mouth with shaking hooves. "The picture's for the reference," Ditzy explains, but I hardly hear her.
The picture is of Dinky in the pouring rain, forearms outstretched to meet the drops and eyes wide with wonder, underneath a rubber hat. But the thing that stands out to me is her muzzle. Her lips, though pulled up in a joyous smile, come together ever so slightly. I mimic her expression carefully. ...M...mm...mom.
I can imagine Ditzy, holding the camera under the shelter of their home, calling back out to her.
"Yellow," I echo. "Of course."
I tear my gaze way from the captured memory, feeling like I'm invading something. "I'll have it in time for the funeral."
Ditzy visibly flinches at the word. "Okay," she mumbles, pawing at the floor. "I think I'll see you then, okay?" Okay seems to be her favorite word. Even though nothing is.
I stand up before she can leave, facing her. I take a deep breath. "Darling," I say levelly, "I'm not about to tell you that it's going to be easy. I'm not going to tell you everything's going to be alright. But...I will tell you that I'll be here for you."
Ditzy's face crumples up. "Thank you. Thank you so much," she whispers, allowing me to bring her into a warm hug.
I pull back from her, handing Ditzy her belongings. "Be strong for your little baby," I breathe, slowly opening the door. The little bell jingles. "You may come back anytime you want, alright?"
Ditzy wraps her woolen scarf tight around her neck, blinking fast. "I-I will," she says. "I will." With one last look, she's gone, and the door slams shut. As soon as Ditzy's out of sight, I fall to my haunches on the rug.
I survey the room—the broken teacup, the shattered table splattered with brown, the lingering warmth on my body, and the glossy photo by the couch. Dinky stares back at me, happy and carefree. Who was that filly? I don't know. She was special, though, to a certain mailmare. She just didn't have enough time in Equestria.
I bury my face in the rug.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick
Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed. Criticism is welcome
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Great job, this was very well done!
God, this was heartbreaking, Supernatural levels of heartbreaking even!
Such a beautiful tale, never imagined a friendship between these two, yet somehow you made it work!
Great job, Leah! Yeeeeeeeeee
Oh, man. I didn't get my permission slip signed for that feels trip.
Cheers.
A big tearjerker.
It was good to see a friendship between Rarity and Ditzy.
Though, I felt Rainbow is a close friend of Ditzy.
...
*hits like and favorite*
....
*goes off to find a corner to cry in*
I had a feeling what this would involve when I read the description, but somehow I still wasn't prepared for the feels that came.
YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sorry for yelling...
Nice fic, but why are you trying to make me feel such emotion?!! I don't wanna be sad!
7450503 Your profile pic is what I live for.
7450566
...
I was just about to send you a link to this...
7450615
Ha! I win!
Nuts...
I knew it had a 'Sad' tag. Really, what did I expect to feel after reading it?
Good job, you evoked the emotions you wanted. I had a couple issues with the writing, but bringing them up right now would feel like I'm airing personal grievances at a funeral. Maybe I'll send a PM later if you're interested.
You have my upvote.
Write on
7450759
Thank you, and thank you very much for the follow! I'd be happy to recieve a PM about any details
This was just so heart-breaking but so wonderfully done, Harmony! My eyes are still damp as I write this. I saw only a couple of spelling errors but they took nothing away from how wonderfully you wrote this story. Your portrayal of Derpy's suffering through her grief was just heart wrenching. I especially like how you showed that even Rarity, as confident as she can be, can sometimes be unsure of how to handle a situation. This tale was just superb, in my humble opinion. Great work!
Great Fic. Love how you used the surroundings and internal dialogue to set the tone of the story.
The begging felt like it could used for bits of information as it felt it was missing something there...
This story certainly deserves a bonus chapter involving the aftermath of the funeral. Maybe have Ditzy thank Rarity for the dress and doing this for Dinky and Rarity leaving the scene on a light-hearted note.
7450564 Obscurity?
I can't believe it!
I just can't, but at the same time, I feel like I have no choice but to accept. 
Just like Ditzy. 
I...
media.giphy.com/media/bCf7FxSUw9XP2/giphy.gif
How did you not burst into tears in the process of writing this?
Hey look it's featured!
Very heartbreaking, but well done.
Rest in peace, Dinky
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I have to say, this story is beautifully written.
And goddamnit, I have to hate it for that.
I know two people who have lost a sibling or parent to exactly this type of event.
Yay! It's up! Grats on fbox. :D
What's the source for your cover art?
No! Not Dinky! You monster!
In my eyes, I can see the connection both Ditzy (Derpy) and Rarity have everything that has happened throughout the story. Something I would have done if one of my friends list their loved ones. It broke my heart a bit to know that Dinky is gone, but that doesn't mean she will be forgotten. At least she's in a better place. Great story by the way
7451181 gifdivision.com/uploads/4/6/0/3/46032175/037_-_fklf9.gif
What EXACTLY happened to dinky? I'm not quite sure I understood what happened.
7451470
Seems like it's probably not all that important to the story, besides the fact that she is dead.
What's with you people and all this sad shit today?
You tryna ruin me? Well?
Now, go sit in the corner and think about what you've done.
7451526 if i caught all the clues correctly then it was implied that dinky had a drug overdose of anti-depressants
This was fantastic. A couple things were actually rather familiar, in terms of the style it was written in I mean, it was similar in ways to how I would've done it, which is a plus in my book. I particularly like how you worded things, and you actually pulled off a first-person Rarity quite well. A lot of times people forget to add in the bias of the character, but you added it in decently, so I applaud you for that.
On the other end of the spectrum of writing, the plot was nice. I definitely haven't read the same one before, so that's a plus. It honestly reminded me vaguely of one of my older stories, but this was way better written than that shabby old thing. The interaction felt real, if only a tad exaggerated in my eyes at times, but then again, I've never encountered a grieving mother so I can't really compare it.
One minor gripe is the use of Ditzy Doo. I honestly prefer Derpy Hooves, though that is not going against you or the story in any small way, that's merely my preference.
Now onto the ehhh. Ditzy's mood swing really hit hard. I mean in the way that it was emotionally hard hitting, but also jarring. She seemed to go from an emotionless mare to a sobbing wreck just a tad too quickly for my liking, though I definitely liked that you wanted it to be sudden. Granted, you hinted that her facade was slowly decaying over the course of her visit, but it was still tid bit much of a change.
And I'm confused a little. Dinky is like... just nearing on the bottom of Ditzy's barrel in height, how on Equuis did she reach the pills? Was the cabinet on the floor? And for that matter, Ditzy never told her to not take medicine without her permission? In a way, and I hate to say it, Ditzy was grossly irresponsible and partially responsible for her daughters death in at least one way: not making sure Dinky knew not to take random pills and assume they were the right ones. But other than that, I don't really have many issues.
You kept the pacing right, and the tensing was all correct throughout the story—as far as I could tell from reading it anyway—and you did a good job of delivering on what you probably intended the story to do, induce feels of cry cry and sad face.
Well done.
Sadness
Wonderfully written, though
7451575
While I agree with most of what you're saying, I must disagree with what you've said about Ditzy's parenting. She most definitely told Dinky not to take any medication or pills without permission, but children don't always listen to adults. Ditzy/Derpy would do anything to keep Dinky safe and happy, and any blame for Dinky's death falls in the black wings of death, and the cruelty of fate. I've dealt with death a bit too much, and I know how often this kind of thing happens, be it an accident or suicide, death takes away some of the best people in our lives, and no one can be blamed when it can't be stopped.
Yay! You made the feature box!
(wipes tears away) absolutely beautiful, well done.
So Ditzy was Derpy right? Derpy has so many names in this fandom its frustrating.
7451575
Thank you so for comment. I just added a sentence in, but basically, yes, Ditzy has told Dinky never to touch them. For whatever reason she'll never know, her daughter didn't listen.
It's never explained how Dinky got up, but Ditzy wouldn't want to focus on something like that, when she was still a bit in denial.
I'm glad you enjoyed it, regardless
Man this was really sad and I mean that as a compliment. Wonderfully written story.
7451725
Right
Derpy just didn't feel right in this setting
7451533
*sits down in corner*
7451470
Accidental overdose
(wakes up and looks for a early morning read...
finds this...
...
...
...
promptly goes back to bed)
" It's too early for this...... just take my feels already...... "
7451470
Derpy neglected Dinky by not locking the medicine cabinet. Dinky took some (actually a lot) of Derpy's anti-depression meds, probably trying to "be more like mommy," and overdosed. For some reason, instead of taking Dinky to a hospital to get her stomach pumped, Derpy sat and ate cookies with a comatose Dinky while she died. Or perhaps Dinky was already dead when Derpy found her, and the cookies were just part of the denial stage of grief.
Decently written. A few typos here and there, but not many. My main gripe is that Rarity's dialogue didn't feel right. She would abruptly break off trains of thought to begin new ones that didn't seem warranted by the context. A lot of the things she said were just flat, awkward, disingenuous sentiments that her character should know better than to express, especially since her thoughts make her seem very knowledgeable on how to handle the situation.
Regardless, not bad.
So the way everything points to Dinky being dead, NOT touching this
7451827 You can get out when you've properly reflected on your wrongdoings.
7451725
Ditzy Doo was her original name. Derpy Hooves or Derpy Doo is what the fanbase got her name changed to.
And I can't cry at the office man D:
7452307 That was never confirmed. The name Ditsy Doo was given to Derpy (Muffins/Mail Mare/etc.) because of the oversensitive fans that dislike the word "Derpy." "Derpy was later made canon in an actual episode, but was changed because of those whiny, oversensitive fans and over-protective mothers.
Now her name is "Muffins" as of the 100th episode.
...yay for SJW's, the killers of everything good and fun.
Another astounding story, Harmony! And another box of tissues gone.
This is what this story reminds me of:
Is it weird to comment on this if I edited it? Eh, whatever. I don't care. This was another great story by Harmony Pie, and totally deserving of the feature. And congratulations on 500 followers. You deserve it. Can I get an autographed copy of your first book?