//------------------------------//
// The end of things 
// Story: Letters to Ponyville 
// by StapleCactus 
//------------------------------//

Dear Applejack,

Darkness has fallen, and I don’t know what to do. I killed a pony, AJ. I didn’t mean it, but I did. I can still feel the shudder as my bayonett ran through his chest. I can still hear the cry he made as he slumped forward against me. I...I can still see the life flicker from his eyes, like a candle being snuffed before bed. But he wasn’t going to bed. Not anymore.

I was the one to pull my blade from his chest. I was the one to let him drop unceremoniously to the ground. I was the one to let him bleed out in the dirt. I was the one that watched him die. Me. Nopony else.

It hurts.

It happened last night during our forward charge. Our line had been quiet up until then, little more than the usual drills: line up in triple rank, and surge toward the far side of the clearing. This time it was different, real, and yet it felt much the same. Like usual, two ponies flanked me. I don’t remember their names. Across from us, on the far side, was the opposing trench line, filled to the brim with earth ponies who all wanted to see us fall. Or, more than likely, wanted to go home and have a nice supper with their families just like the rest of us.

Snow had just started to drift down in gentle eddies, in stark contrast to our pounding hooves, which left sharp tracks in the snow. Our breath lingered in the air as we charged. All I could hear was the shouts of my fellow soldiers and our thundering hooves. 

A wall of ponies pulled themselves from the trench and marched our way. Our wave crashed against their wall, and chaos ensued. And that was when I saw him. Or, rather, he saw me. He slammed into me.

I didn’t have time to think, to consider my actions. My training took over. I… I don’t want to share the details. If not for my sake, then for yours. Just let it be said that I’m not proud of what I did, and neither should any of you back home.

Sergeant Gunsmoke says we’ll be switch off with the new recruits soon, which means peace from the front. It’s cold here, AJ. Almost too cold to stand. The blankets help at night, but it gets inside you, freezes you from the inside out. Makes you stop feeling. I don’t want to stop feeling. It’s what makes us ponies.

I’ll be off on leave come this spring. Celestia willing, this blasted war will be over with before then, and I’ll get to come home to you and Granny and Applebloom. Say ‘hi’ to them for me, alright? I’ll write again soon.

Your brother,
Big Macintosh