Struggling to stay afloat in a sea of uncertainty, you keep your memories close to you. After everything, they're the only thing that stayed.
You wouldn't be what most ponies would call 'stable' in any sense of the word. Your life is in crumbles, everyone you loved has moved on or passed away, and you live in the past. Dealing with hardships has never really been your strong suit and with the death of the last of your family, you estrange yourself from those who want to help. They move on and you don't. There seems to be no getting to you, until a certain mare who has been through the same thing, trys to pull you out of the blue. Will you let her?
First attempt at writing a multi chapter sad story so let me know what you think in the comments and tell me what I can improve on. Thanks!
Your day starts with the same routine. Wake up, take a bath, eat, and then hitch to your cairage. You do so and start moving. Your life up until today had been at a stalemate for the past couple years. Same thing, different day, as the saying went. Go to a town, do a show, earn some bits, leave to the next town and repeat. It was going smoothly, until you visited ponyville and that accursed Twilight Sparkle had to show you up and ruin your reputation as a magician, which was something you held dearly.
After the ponyville debacle, less and less ponies had come to your shows and you had been making less money then the small wages you had before. If your growling stomach had anything to say about it, it would prove that you were getting less than you needed. But you were much to proud to admit that. Pride aside, the last two shows had shown no money inflow which meant you couldn't eat. The situation was about to come to a head if the letter you were about to receive had anything to say about it.
You kept trotting towards your next destination, Appleloosa. A messenger trotted up next to you and holds out a piece of parchment.
"Message for Mrs. Lulamoon?" He asks as you nod and take the parchment in your magics hold. He nods to you and turns the opposite direction. You stop trotting and untie the piece of string neatly tied to it. Unfolding the parchment reveils bold lettering and looks like it was written by a type writer. Across the top read, To Trixie Lulamoon. The rest of the letter read as one written by an institution. About your father, who had long been a patient of the senior center this letter was from. It was a letter to inform you that his condition had worsened and that they had done all they could but it wasn't enough. Included in the letter was a copy of his death certificate.
Words failed you. Instead, you just sat there on the ground, silent tears streaming down your face as you tryed to come to terms with the information you had just been given. You dropped the parchment and watched it float to the ground and land in the puddle your tears had made. "This can't be happening..." You were shocked. You and your father had slowly drifted away after the death of your mother and with no siblings to speak of, you had little to no interaction with family. The fact that you were some what astranged from your father didn't lessen the impact the news had on you. You held the certificate of his passing in your hooves. Reading it over and over hoping to see some flaw, so that this might be a joke, but none were there.
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There had been dark days in your past, and they had come to pass. As would this with time, but for now, nothing could drown your sorrows. Except for the bottom of the bottle. You trudged along until you reached the next town and headed for the first bar you saw. 'Barry Punch's Brewery'. You walked inside after hitching your cairage to a post outside. Walking straight for the main bar, you motion for the attention of the bar keep and ask her for the stoutest drink she has in stock. Its some Apple Jack Daniels. You tell her to just leave the bottle.
Down, down went the liquor. With every drink, you felt yourself becoming more and more drunk. The numbing effect the alcohol had was to your satisfaction and was doing its job of helping you forget the horrid day you have had. Soon enough you were intoxicated enough to be numb of the situation at hand. Everyone else at the bar was enjoying themselves and you loathed them for it. It had been so long since the last time you had actually enjoyed yourself, that you were sure you had forgotten the feeling of happiness. You start to feel light headed and you know what is going to happen next. Rushing to the nearest garbage can, you heave and vomit the bitter liquid that you had drank just a short time ago, bit nothing else considering you haven't eaten in over a week. You stumble back to the bar and order another bottle of the putrid liquor. The bar keep obliges and brings you another bottle. Within ten minutes, that bottle is gone as well.
Stumbling out of the bar, you realise it was dark now, most of your day being spent drinking your problems away. For the most part it actually worked if the dumb smile and numbness had anything to say about it. You walked around to the post you tied your wagon to and untied it. Hitching it to yourself, you started your trek to the outskirts of town to make your camp. Upon arriving at what you deemed an appropriate place to stay for the night, you unhitched yourself, tied it to a tree, and climbed inside to rest for the rest of the night. Not for the first time, you cried yourself to sleep.
The next morning arrived by the way of the sun streaming through your curtains, directly into your eyes. You moved your hoof in front of your eyes to halt the onslaught brought upon you by the infuriating suns blinding rays. It was in vain, you were already awake and once you were awake, you were awake. Turning over, you rolled onto your hooves. Your head was pounding like somepony was hitting you in the head with a hammer and you had the worst taste in your mouth. You walked to the small ice box you had in your wagon and opened it up to the familiar sight of nothing. With a heavy sigh, you moved toward the door in your small caravan. Opening the door, you walked out into the fresh air. The blooming flowers of all colors and the rolling hills of green made for a gorgeous sight. Not to mention all of the apple trees lining the hills in all directions. You walked to the front of your wagon and started untying the knot you had put in the hitch string to prevent it from moving in the middle of the night. As you were in the middle of that process, something fell from the tree above you and hit you on the top of the head.
"Ow! What the hay was that?" You exclaimed at the tree. You looked back down to see the assailant. A ripe and delicious looking red apple. Not even damaged from the fall. Deciding that this fruit owed you for assaulting you, you picked it up in your magic. You rubbed the dirt off on your coat before taking a bite out of it. The taste was almost overwhelming. The way an orchard smells is how this tasted, even the freshest apples you had ever had couldn't compare to this work of natures art. Enjoying the fruit immensely, you failed to notice the pony walking up behind you.
" 'Scuse me? Just what the hay do ya think yer doin' in mah orchard?!"
You stand there, unmoving after the voice behind you spoke. You remembered that voice. The night you had been belittled and degraded by Twilight Sparkles superior magic skills. It was one of her friends. Feeling the sweat bead on your forehead and drip down, your anxiety higher than normal, you attempt to still your nerves, and face her.
Turning around, you have a voice to put to a face. If you remembered correctly, her name was Applejack. That was all you knew though. You had no idea if she was cruel or malevolent, an angry pony or one to forgive quickly. The uncertainty is what made you nervous. The look on your face being an obvious one of trepidation. She looks at you with what you saw as surprise.
"Trixie? What are ya doin' back in Ponyville? And more importantly, what are ya doin' eatin' mah apples?!" Her look morphed from surprise, to confusion and just as quickly turned into a look of anger. Your eyes, moved from hers do the ground in embarrassment. You felt like a filly caught with her hoof in the cookie jar. As quickly as it had come though, the feeling passed and a look of defiance took its place. Looking back up to Applejacks eyes, you glared at her.
"Trixie is here on business that is hers and nopony else's! As to why I was eating your apples, Trixie hasnt been in the best financial standing for the past while if you must know! The apples were hanging here and Trixie thought this was a public place, so she partook." Your stubborness getting the best of you, you threw up your defense mechanisms by dodging the first question and defending yourself in the second. Applejack seemed to study your face for a moment before her expression softened slightly.
"Well if yer still hungry, I s'pose a couple of apples won't be that big'a deal. But you hafta tell me why yer here first." Her expression going from slight anger into one of sterness. Still defiant you opened your mouth to refuse such pity but your stomach rumbling answered for you. Applejack chuckled a little. "That's what I thought. Come with me, we'll go back ta the farm and getcha some food." You grumbled slightly but didn't protest and followed.
After some pie and a tummy full of of fritters to die for, you pat your stomach, satisfied for the first time in weeks. Closing your eyes you feel a food coma coming on. After a few moments of silence, Applejack clears her throat. Opening your eyes wide at the sudden sound, you remember that she's there. "Well now that ya got a full stomach of the best apple pie in equestria, I figured that its as good a time as any ta spill yer guts. Uh, not literally though." You sat up and groaned. You knew this was coming from the moment you started following her back to the farm. Didn't make it easier though.
"These past couple of months have not been kind to Trixie." You paused and Applejack motioned for you to continue. "That's all." She gives you an incredulous look.
"Well doesn't that explain why you were stealin' my apples?" She asked with sarcasm dripping from her words. "I wanna know the details Trixie, what made tha month bad for ya?" She looked at you with genuine curiosity. You looked back at her and scoffed.
"Why would you possibly want to know about Trixie's problems? To have more of a reason to ridicule, and embarrass her for her weaknesses? Nonsense." Looking back at Applejack, you saw her expression was no longer curiosity, but one of understanding.
"Refusing help ain't a good way ta deal with problems, I know that better than anypony." You looked at her in disgust. Was she trying to pity you? Worse than that, she compaired herself to you! You're nothing alike! She's a lowly farmer pony and you are a magician! How dare she even try to compare the two of you. Apperently oblivious to the rage building inside you and the anger evident on your face, she had no way to prepare for the verbal onslaught coming her way.
"You know how I feel?! You have no idea!!" The rage now evident from the hatred in your tone and your expression. "You have no idea what its like to go without what you need for weeks at a time just so you can get by! You have no idea what its like being astranged from all your family and be considered a failure in the eyes of all of them! The fact that you think you can compare me and you and condisend to me like its nothing disgusts me!" At this point Applejack was hanging her head low and a sad expression on her face. "Most of all, you'll never knew what it was like growing up with no parents and having to fend for yourself!" Venom dripping from your words toward the pony across from you. She raised her head and looked into your eyes with an unreadable expression.
"Don't goin' assumin' things about ponies you don't know." She got up, walked to the door, and opened it. "Leave." She said the last word with a mix of anger and hurt. The way she said it, ripped you off your power trip and a sobering thought came to your head. What if she did know? You stood up and made your way for the door. On your way out she stopped you. "If you decide you wanna come talk about what happened with me, you know where I'll be. But if ya do, I suggest ya leave yer bitterness out here." She motioned to the outside. After you were out of the door she promptly shut it. Leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You attempted to sleep, but it didn't come peacefully. Tossing and turning in moral turmoil. What Applejack had said, still fresh on your mind, despite it being more than half a day. You'd spent most of it pouting about self righteousness and stewing in your anger. Even with his angry you were, you could feel the hurt and anger in AJ's voice. You weren't what most ponies would consider considerate, but you felt like she somehow knew about what you went through.
Hours had passed and you were asleep in your bed. The gentle pitter patter on the caravan's roof signaled rain. The deep but subtle rumbling farther away said it was far from over, and acted almost as a lullaby. The purple and blue blanket that clung to your sleeping figure, cascaded off of the bed and met the floor in a heap. Drip.... Drip.... Drip.... the constant sound of stray water entering your abode was matched by your breathing. Tossing a little in your bed, the cover falls off and lands in the small puddle of water that has collected at the edge of your bed.
Shivering, you wake up. Its dark outside still from what you can see. You sit up and look around for your blanket, and notice it in a pile on the ground, soaked in water. The sounds outside still indicating it's raining and probably not going to stop soon, you sigh and get up. Illuminating your horn to light the way, you walk to your closet across the small room. Opening the door, you see you have no extra blankets. Growling out of frustration, you walk back to your bed and lay down. Tonight is going to be a cold one.
The chirps of the birds outside alert you that its now morning. Opening your eyes slightly at first, to help them adjust to the brightness, you notice a migraine starting. You groan and notice how dry your throat is, begging for a drink. You oblige and walk outside to the spiket attached to the outside of your caravan. After getting a drink, your migraine subsides to a pounding headache and your dry throat goes away. Walking back inside, nausea hits you like a ton of bricks, and you get motion sickness from just standing. Needless to say, what happened next was anything but pretty.
Working on the road alone had taught you a great deal of things on how to take care of yourself, but a cold wasn't something that could just be ignored or willed away. Every other time this had happened, you had just waited it out, but it was clear that wouldn't work this time. A day had passed and your condition did nothing to improve, in fact, it worsened. Instead of just a regular old cold, it was pneumonia. You went to the doctor earlier and he diagnosed you. He said that it wouldn't go away on its own and had to be treated. Not having any money to pay for the medication, you hoped he was wrong.