...Day seven...
It is 9:00 in the evening, the moonlight bursts through the window pane and splatters dancing patterns on the walls, producing streaking puppets of light. The hospital is dead silent. The hallway is filled with the void of noiseless slumber, and the soothing silence of the night sky itself. I can’t discern whether the heater is running, or if there is only a humming in my head. I am silent. The world seems silent. The building may be in a stage of chaos elsewhere... but certainly not here.
There is not a considerable amount to tell today. I don’t feel that I’m capable of writing much. My mouth is trembling, my mind is on edge, and my writing is hardly legible. I’ve wandered the dimmed hallways in a fit of wanderlust, superfluous thoughts and ice coursing through my mind and my veins respectively. With ease, I can say that I will not find the comfort of a good night’s sleep tonight. I’m beginning to wonder just what sort of comfort that implies at all. I knew that come this night, sleep would be a lost cause, a forgotten pleasure. Forget my mysterious dreamworld, the time spent awake in my room here is very real.
Because I am to leave with Rainbow Dash tomorrow.
The doctors told me the news, and, perhaps in a mixed state of confusion and merriment, I hugged them. Though they’ve more than likely despised my stay over the past week, they tentatively returned the embrace, I felt it. There’s something magical about spending company with a new mother, and who else but a doctor in the maternity ward has spent more time with us? Though I may have been out of hoof, I think that they’ll come to forgive me and ultimately get a chuckle out of a few of the things I did.
Though I am terribly sorry about the vending machine. I vouch to fix that.
I can’t say anything else. I’m anxious, nervous, clinging on to the few wisps of rational thought I have left... but I believe if all of those feelings were to be grouped together, it would all lead to the conversion of one word: excitement.
I’m a mother I’m a mother I’m a mother I’m a mother and I’m bringing home my foal, whom I must nurture and care for and impart with my wisdom unto her.
Dear sweet Celestia... please watch over us...