//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1 
// Story: Twilight's Purgatory 
// by Derpsanddinks404 
//------------------------------//

                                  Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.
-Isaac Asimov





I remember my death day like it was yesterday. Actually, that's normal, considering I've only been dead a day. Although, that's a day in life. In death, that's about a week. You see, time feels to move slower when you've got nothing better to do than watch the living pass you without knowing you're there.

I left my living body in an overall peaceful way: I was sleeping when I stroked out after years upon years of built-up stress. I woke up the next morning to Spike attempting to wake me. I kept trying to assure him I was clearly awake, when I noticed that he was reaching through me and shaking my now-deceased body. I was shocked at the sight before me, going through all five stages of death very slowly. 

First, denial. I kept telling myself I was asleep, that this was all just a nightmare, and that I would wake up sometime soon, hopefully soon. 

Second, anger. I cursed the names of whoever would allow the caretaker and loyal friend of a baby dragon to die and leave him alone to weep and mourn in front of their body. Although I didn't believe in any higher power, I still cursed out the universe and its cruel choices.

Third, bargaining. Again, I believe in no higher power, so I made unheard promises to Celestia and Luna that I'd do absolutely anything they desired if I could just live for another day to tie up loose ends. I got out of this stage quicker than the rest because I realized that I do, in fact, do all that the Princesses desire.

Fourth, depression. I moved myself over to where Spike sat sobbing for an hour and joined him. I did my best attempts to old my baby boy one last time to assure him I was here, only to come up empty-hoofed because of my neglect to be real in his reality. This only caused me to weep harder.

Fifth, acceptance. I almost thought this would never come. Stage four had lasted almost the rest of the day. I wept when Spike went for help, which was proven inevitable by the time he returned. I wept when Spike hugged me one last time, before I was carried out on a gurney to a group of gathered ponies outside my treehouse. I wept when my friends confirmed my identity to the EMT's with tears of disbelief forming in their eyes. It wasn't until all the horrid commotion was over only an hour later that I decided to look at the bright side of things.

I remember not too long ago coming across a book about Ancient Equestrian Mythology which had said something about life after death. Unfortunately, the book was too old, and I could only make out certain excerpts of it. What I was able to gather from it mentioned a situation exactly like mine. It said this place was called Purgatory, or Limbo, and it was believed by ancient Equestrians to be where ponies who died with unfinished business went. The only way out was forward, to the other side, with no turning back to life. And the only way to cross over, well, that was vague and faded, but if I remember correct you had to solve your past conflicts. How I do that and what my conflicts are, I haven't the slightest clue.

The shear fact that I couldn't go back was a double-edged sword. It hurt me to know that I could no longer communicate with my friends, but it also put my mind in a state of embracement towards the absolution that was death. I had learned those facts in that order, thus transferring from depression to acceptance.

And so here I was, twenty-two hours after my passing, sitting forever alone in the shade of the tree library I used to call home. My friend Fluttershy, who was amazing with animals, gladly took Spike into her abode, where both tried their best to comfort themselves with little avail. My home space was stripped of everything: my bed, Spike's bed, my own personal bookshelf, etcetera; all of which was to be distributed between my friends as keepsakes. The library downstairs was now being run by a white pegasis with a bookmark as her cutie mark (Paperback, I think her name was). I sit in front of the door in disbelief at the thought of everypony moving on so quickly. And yet, it also made me happy, knowing that my death wasn't too much of a disturbance to everypony's lives, which they lived to the fullest extent.

The next day I overheard a conversation between my five friends at Sugarcube Corner. There was an air of sadness and sudden loss throughout the room. I oh so wished I could show myself to my friends, show them I'm fine, but I didn't even bother to attempt, knowing it would be futile. 

The conversation was about the recent event. Nopony smiled when they talked, not even Pinkie Pie, who'd find a way to turn a hurricane into a circus event. They talked about what would go to who, who was in charge of my funeral and when it was, how my family has been informed of the terrible news, and how Spike was taking his new life in Fluttershy's cottage. Again, this information both saddened me and cheered me up. 

Once the last topic was discussed, there was a silence that filled the room, each friend looking to the next with a look of sad understanding as to what was going on. It wasn't until Rarity put her hoof to her lips that the silence was broken.

"She was too young..." she whispered, barely loud enough to hear, choking back the oncoming tears. She eventually succumbed to the sadness and closed her eyes, allowing small rivulets of tears flow down her snow white cheeks.

Applejack embraced our friend in a warm hug. "Shhh..." she cooed to the unicorn in her arms, attempting to calm down not only Rarity, but from what I could tell herself as well.

The other three joined in with the two mares until there was one big pile of mourning friends, crying over the death of their latest and youngest friend; the same friend who, they weren't able to realize, was also embracing them in the group hug, saddened I couldn't return to them.

I eventually left Sugarcube Corner a minute later, my heart unable to handle any more. I left my friends with thoughts of trying to stay positive; how would I escape this literal Hell-on-Earth if I always moped over how I got here? As I exited over the threshold, I looked around to see where I should go to find out how to cross over. Soon, all of my negative thoughts returned as I realized I was stuck here, considering there was no one here to help me. I began to weep again when I noticed a black figure out of the corner of my eye not too far from where I sat.

I looked over to the little ball of darkness to inspect it from afar. I couldn't quite make out what it was, but something in the back of my mind told me that it was my oneway ticket out of here...

To be continued...