Chapter Two
The funeral was on the date of when our wedding was supposed to be. It wasn't on purpose, it was just the worst possible coincidence imaginable. The only available times for service was either the day of our wedding, or a month from then. So we decided to have the funeral on the day Shining Star and I were supposed to be starting a new life, not mourn the loss of one. To make it worse, it was the coldest winter in Los Pegasus in over forty years. It was below zero degrees Fahrenheit when I arrived at the graveyard.
It was this day when my faith began to fall. When I needed somepony to be there for me the most, no-one was. Everypony gave me dirty looks, which confused me thoroughly. It was like high school all over again -- I was the lone, awkward kid standing at the back, hiding my eyes behind my mane, not sure what else to do, as my social skills were never very refined. I didn't know what to do. I was confused. Why were they looking at me like that?
I figured it out during the service. I walked up to Shining Star's father and asked him if he was doing okay. Losing your only filly must be horrible. What he did, however, changed me for a very long time. What he said shook me to my very foundation, and made me feel like a monster frozen in an icy dungeon frozen from the waters of guilt. He looked me in the eyes, and with the angriest voice I had ever heard from him, he said to me, "It's your fault! If you hadn't messaged her, and just have been a little damn patient, she wouldn't have looked at that stupid parchment and noticed the stagecoach coming at her! You've got guts to show your face here."
That broke my heart, and shook me to my very core. The darkness of my teenage years returned to me, and I felt like somepony had ripped out my heart, frozen it in nitrogen, then stitched back inside of me, causing my blood to run cold. When I displayed my look of the purest of hurt, he spit on my hooves, gave me the dirtiest look he could muster, and walked past me, making sure he aggressively hit my right shoulder and wing. Too many emotions to count flooded through me when he did that. I felt guilt, because he might have been right. I felt angry that he dared blame me for this tragedy. I felt sadness, depression, hurt, despair, all those from the sting of my soon-to-be wife being gone forever. I desperately craved to be happy again. I craved to see Shining Star's gentle white smile, to see those big brown eyes glimmer in the moonlight on the balcony of our apartment, to hear her say my name, to hear her tell me she loves me, to hear the squees she would make when talking about the wedding, to spend my life with her, to grow old together. And to die together.
I left right then. I wouldn't be able to face anypony else, especially her two brothers or her uncle. They never liked me from the start; they were like everypony else. They were controlled by the standardized judgmental society of our dear Los Pegasus. I flared my wings open and began soaring into the bitter cold winter sky. I arrived at the front of my apartment building and crashed through the doors and galloped up the stairs to my apartment. When I closed the door behind me, I let out all my emotion there in the living room.
I punched a hole in our thin drywall, kicking a table lamp across the room, its fireworks of porcelain exploding against the wall. I yelled until my voice went hoarse. I cried until my eyes were physically incapable of crying any further. I shook with pain, anger, and fear until I passed out. The pain of losing the one person who shone light into my life; the anger directed at myself for being impatient and messaging her; the fear of myself doing something I would regret. It all crashed on me at once like a heavy weight being thrown at me. I finally collapsed onto the grey carpet in our living room. I laid with my back down, staring up at the ceiling. I slowly closed my eyes, and the last tear I held slowly rolled down my cheek. She was gone. And it was all my fault. All mine.
The following months would be no better. Each day in class, my focus would slip more and more. I excused myself early more frequently, and went to the nearest bathroom and cried until the tear wells -- no, oceans -- in my eyes ran dry. An ocean for Shining Star. A sunset for Shining Star. My life savings for Shining Star. My shattered heart for Shining Star. I remember when my mother died when I turned twenty. She never got to see the love of her life have his own biological grandfoals. Her daughter that she had with her ex-husband had kids, but I did not. My father technically had grandfoals, but not blood-related grandfoals. I was his only child. That will be one of the biggest regrets of my life forever. When she passed, I became horribly ill from the depression. But Star picked up the shattered pieces of my heart and glued them back together. If it wasn't for her, I doubt I would've even lived to be twenty.
In my college, the professors were starting to become angry with me. I was cutting class, wasn't paying attention, and my grades were slipping. When I failed every class I had the summer after Shining Star's passing, I decided to drop out. I needed to leave, get a fresh start. I needed some kind of closure. I needed to get away from the pain.
So, I decided to move to a small town out in the country. Get a job and a little apartment in small town Ponyville. What better place to get a fresh start then on the other side of the country? My father fully supported my leaving. In fact, he encouraged me. He cried when I boarded the train to Ponyville, but I know that he knew I needed to get away. We had both experienced pain no pony should ever have to feel. But of course, Star's father found a new way to make me feel like the dirt of Equestria. He called me a coward, and said that I was running like a little filly away from my problems that I wasn't stallion enough to confront. But he did not know the pain I felt. Every night, he came home to a warm dinner that his wife, Shining Star's kind mother, prepared for him. He did not know my pain. He did not know true heart break. A few weeks before the move, I called this little apartment place in Ponyville. They had a small studio apartment available for rent for a very decent price: three-hundred bits a month. I accepted the offer and they gave me a date, which was July eighteenth, the day of Shining Star's birthday. The day after the phone call, I purchased the train tickets at the local train station. It took me the entire three weeks to get fully packed. Everytime I would come across an item of Star's, I would go into one of my "episodes." However, they slowly subsided from full on sobbing and yelling, to soft and gentle cries of pain. My heart ached to see her again, especially when I came across one of the many hair-bows she would wear. It had her delicious smell of sweet peas on it. She had always loved sweet peas, just like my mother. Those two would talk for hours on hours about flowers and gardening, while my father and I would talk about whatever sports season it was, or about a new film that came out that looked interesting.
When I arrived in Ponyville, I had a much too eager welcoming party awaiting me. She was a pink pony with a ridiculously large, curly mane. She was bouncing up and down like she had just eaten a hundred sugar cakes. She showed me various Ponyville landmarks and cafes. She was surprisingly friendly and energetic. Her high pitched voice was a bit annoying, but easy to get used to. But it was her laugh that made me remember her. That laugh was the most contagious laugh I had ever heard. But, I just couldn't find the power to laugh. All will to do anything was virtually non-existent. I wanted to walk into the infamous Everfree Forest and hope one of the fearsome creatures that called it their home would go and end my life. Nice and quick, so I could be with Shining Star again. Pinkie Pie, the pony's name, caught on to my depression and asked me what was wrong. I decided to just tell her. I thought it would've been better to get it off my chest instead of bottling up my emotions like I did when I was a teenager. The pink pony's mane literally deflated, and told me that she was sorry and said that it wasn't my fault for what happened. But how could it not be? If it wasn't for my stupid message, I would still be in Los Pegasus. In fact, I probably would have been eating lunch with Shining Star.
When we arrived at my apartment, I was actually a little disappointed. That was the happiest I had been in months. Despite the end of our conversation, the hyper pony managed to make me smile a few times, and even snicker. In a way, Pinkie Pie reminded me of Shining Star when the two of us would talk about the wedding. Star would sequel and bounce with excitement. Of course, her energy levels couldn't even compare to the pink pony's, but it still reminded me of her.
I looked at the apartment building in front of me. It was made from a yellow-colored wood with white walls and a hay looking material of roof, and was three stories tall. It looked nice enough. I walked through the front double oak wooden doors, and went to the reception desk, where a bored looking mare that appeared to be in her late twenties sat. She was tapping her hooves in a repeating pattern against the desk she was seated behind. Unless my eyes were playing tricks on me, the mare was reading a Daring Doo fan fiction that I wrote. I walked to the desk and told her my name and the room number I was given in a letter. After she welcomed me and gave me an obviously standard guarantee about cleanliness and the bunch, she confirmed the room I was given and gave me the keys to the room. Apartment fifteen, floor two.
I opened the door to my new apartment with the keys I was given, and I was surprised at just how nice this little, cheap apartment was. It wasn't a luxury condo in the heart of Canterlot, but it was pretty decent for how cheap it was. There was a twin-sized bed neatly made with a white sheet, beige blanket, and white pillows. There was an old, dusty bookshelf that housed about a dozen old books with two cabinets on both sides. To the right of the bookshelf was a small kitchen, and to the left was a bathroom with a simple toilet, sink, and step-in shower with an old style shower head. It wasn't much, but it was comfortable enough. I put my bags in the closet next to the door and I walked over to the bed, where I noticed a door to the fire escape. There was a fair amount of space to the left of the bed. The perfect amount for a guitar and enchanted recording devices. I very much enjoyed making records of original music and selling them, so I was very glad to see I would still be able to that comfortably.
The first thing I did was test my bed. The blankets were soft and fuzzy, and the pillows were fluffy like a cloud, but the bed's mattress was a little too firm for my tastes. But it was a bed, and in an apartment I could afford, so I wasn't going to be picky. I slowly dozed off, for the train lag caught up to me. When I awoke, the hot summer afternoon sun had faded over the horizon and a full moon was starting to ascend. Shining Star loved full moons. Every full moon, she would light four candles and place them symmetrically around a little statuette of Luna's Official Seal, and we would both sit next to it, and stay up all night stargazing and admiring the beautiful work of the night princess. We were both extremely fond of Luna, and anypony who knew us at all knew that. The full moon on this night however, felt hollow and lifeless. I decided writing and recording a new song would cheer me up.
I pulled out my old guitar that I had brought with me, and plugged a chord similar to an amplifier chord into my music player, where I had my recording device ready. I first laid out a beginning beat by pressing various buttons on the magically enchanted device, and filled in the little bits with my guitar. Once I was satisfied with this instrumental work of music, I began to write lyrics. I let the emotions from my heart and very soul pour onto the paper. Just like I always did. Its kind of funny, really, how I was horrible at poetry, but could write great songs and stories. Just another thing to make me different.
Once I was satisfied with the lyrics of this song, I began to sing,
"I'm back into this darkness
The pain of losing you stinging me further
Their words never fail to make me feel heartless..."
I continued to sing the song, and finished after a few more lines and choruses. After some fiddling with the sounds of my guitar and the beat on the device, I saved it and it spat out a disc with the song on it. I grabbed a nearby pen with my hooves and wrote across the top of the disc, "Back To This." I then printed out a few more copies to sell.
I immediately went outside and saw that there was still some ponies on the streets. I went to them and asked them if they would like to possibly buy some original music. Most of them agreed to at least listen to the song, and they all said the same things. They could tell just by the look of me what the song was about. They all said things like, "I'm so sorry for your loss," and, "She's in a better place now." I sold all twenty discs I made and returned to my apartment. When I opened the door of my apartment, I noticed there was a folded piece of parchment on the floor. I picked it up and read the note. The note made me feel a little better. It read, "I'm sorry for your loss, but know this: there will always be ponies who care for you. Love, Derpy." For a little while, my thoughts began to turn to normal thoughts of sports and the Wonderbolts, and recent films. Until I heard a door slamming outside. When I heard that sound, I immediately had a flashback of myself barreling through doors to that one hospital room.
I sang the song one more time before I decided it was time for bed. I crawled into the firm bed and pulled the cotton, beige covers over my cold fur, and drifted off into a restless sleep. Life could not have been darker, colder. Little did I know how much my life would change in the next week.