Day 1.
It was bound to happen. I knew it would happen. I saw it happening.
Life itself is an extension of magic. All ponies have magic within them, as we live, breathe, talk, and walk, thanks to it being weaved into life itself.
All ponies can feel it within them, subtle, but it’s there. So, when that magic begins to fade, naturally as you grow older, one thing is clear to all.
Death is soon to follow.
Having a grasp on your life when it’s entering its final stages might seem to be comforting. Most ponies can tell the exact day they’re going to pass on, that trickle of magic within them drying out. It might seem to make things easier for them and those they love.
Ranting about magic like this gives me comfort. I really need comfort right now. It isn’t working.
We’ve all grown old. We’ve all felt the effects of time. I may not look like it, but I am on a timer the same as them. Though, the idea of death arriving was a threat we had discussed many times. We used to laugh it off, but now it is coming to fruition.
And yet it feels unreal.
Today, the first of my friends passed. Today, Applejack moved on.
I never would have expected her to go first. With Pinkie Pie’s habits and Rainbow Dash’s recklessness, we all joked about them going out first many years ago.
We were much younger then.
Only now do I realize just how long ago that was. Jokes like that didn’t hold the weight they do now. It was inevitable, but it stung all the same. We knew Applejack wasn’t in the best shape, we knew this day was going to come—we just thought we’d have more time.
Though, time waits for nopony, not even an Element of Harmony.
We were all there, comforting her and giving her peace. She seemed accepting of it, laying in that hospital bed with her friends and family around her. She lived a good, happy life, but I suppose all those years of exerting herself on the farm caught up to her.
She wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
Poor Applebloom laid her head on the bedside, weeping softly into her sister’s arm. She had lost Big Mac only a few years ago, and now her sister too. I’d like to say we were handling it well, so we could comfort her, but truth be told, not a single one of us was managing to keep it together.
I had never, in the decades I’ve spent with her, seen Pinkie look so…empty. Her hair was straight, her bubbly color had faded, and she didn’t utter a word. She just cried. Cried for her friend. Cried for us all. Cried knowing she had to say goodbye. I don’t think she truly had prepared herself for how severe the impact of it would be on her, not even compared to when she lost her own parents. I couldn’t look at her, it only added even more to the agony my heart was experiencing.
Rarity did her best to keep her composure, in an attempt to remain elegant as always for her friend—but she faltered. Mascara slid down her cheeks, tears welled in the corners of her eyes, and I saw her fighting off the urge to break down then and there. She was a smart mare, one of the smartest I knew, and she did her best to emotionally prepare herself for the inevitable, but even then I could see her breaking apart at the seams.
Fluttershy softly sniffled near the other end of the bed. Her hair covered her face, but I knew the fur hidden behind those pink streaks was stained from a sea of tears. Discord was there comforting her, rubbing her back with a solemn expression on his face. He must’ve had experience with this, being immortal and all, and did his best to ensure the poor pegasus was okay.
Try as he might, she wasn’t. She was always a sensitive pony, caring endlessly for all those around her, and she felt she could’ve done more. She felt she could’ve put her talents to use, give Applejack more time, anything to avoid what was happening now. It was impossible, but she couldn’t accept it. She just sniffled as the sound of a clock quietly ticked in our ears.
She didn’t show it outwardly, but Rainbow seemed to be handling the situation the worst. She just stared at Applejack from the foot of the bed. Her eyes seemed…dull. Lost. Something far from the fiery magenta eyes of passion I had grown akin to. She seemed to be in disbelief, as if this wasn’t real. I couldn’t blame her, it felt unreal to me too. All those years she spent butting heads with the cowgirl, and here she was realizing those times were coming to an end. It was as if decades of their competitions replayed in her mind all at once. I could see it, her expression wavering, her eyes slowly beginning to water, and her body slackening. Yet she continued to stare. That fire in her eyes—it faded ever so slightly.
I tried my best to accept this, to understand this was only natural. I had been prepared for it, it was just the way of life. I knew I’d have to see her go. We all did, and we knew we may have to face it for each other. Be it me, or them, it’d come again for one of us.
It started with my parents, then my brother, and now it finally reached one of my closest friends. It hurt. It hurts so much even now. I could recall all our memories, all our times together, all the things we laughed at, all the things we cried at.
I couldn’t keep it together. I cried, I cried so much. I cried along with my friends. I cried along with her family. I just cried. Words couldn’t suffice, though I knew deep down Applejack was okay with it. We were there, together, and that’s all she wanted in her final moments.
The time passed without relent, it would always do that, but these scant few hours together weren’t enough. Glancing between all of us, saying her goodbyes, including a final snarky jab at Rainbow, she softly chuckled to herself and closed her eyes.
More time passed. She didn’t move. Though Applebloom, still clenching tightly to her sister’s foreleg, began to weep harder than ever.
And we knew she was gone.
Today I start my journal.
Today my dear friend passed away.
Today marks the last time we were all together.
And we never will be again.