*Wondering what I'm putting out next? Check this journal out to see for yourself!
"In the end, it’s not the years in your life that matter; it’s the life in your years."
~Soto Konoha
Huge thanks to all my followers, trackers, friends and editor! If it weren't for you all, this would of never gotten off the ground.
Diary Entry…
It happened, he... he passed on; Orrick, my wonderful Orrick, is dead. I never thought the day would come that I’d have to cope with this. I’m all alone now; I feel empty.
You know, I have to wonder why I’m still around; why I’m sitting by this old book writing my days away, and looking at pictures of a once-upon-a-time-life which is nothing but dust now. Can’t I go? Can’t I finally be free of all this? Can’t I just simply-
Die
The word hung on the tip of my tongue, and yet I couldn’t write it down. Was I really inviting death?
Yes.
With a measured sigh, I cut my magic, and the pen fell from its grasp, bouncing off my writing desk once before falling to the dusty floor. Instead of retrieving the writing utensil, however, I closed my diary and tucked it away between the mattresses; something I’d come to do out of habit. I don’t really know who I was hiding it from anymore; Orrick always knew and even if he hadn’t, he’s dead now and wouldn’t give a damn.
I still can’t believe he’s dead, why is life so unfair?
With the desk cleared, I sat back down in my aged chair and gazed at the walls. Pictures, they’re all that’s left of what was once a tangible event- snapshots of a reality that’s like a dream to me now. I wanted my youth back, and my mate, and my kids, and Octavia… but things don’t work out like that, do they? No, all that’s left is smiling faces, beautiful sunsets, and a horrid air of fabrication. What a life.
As my mind delved into sour reveries, I got up and made my way down the stairs; an activity nowadays that was as dangerous as scaling the Canterlot Mountains. When I finally made it, I was out of breath and had to lean against the railing for a minute or so to recover. As my heart slowed, and my regular breathing again rattled out of my throat, I began making my way towards the kitchen. I passed three more portraits before arriving at my destination. Reaching out with a weak bout of magic, I swung open one of the cupboards and rummaged through, pulling out the pot of sugar after a second or so. Next came boiling the water, then the teabag, and finally, tea. With the warm beverage a pace in front of me, I set it down on the dusty table before falling to a chair with a satisfied sigh. The events of yesterday, the funeral I mean, sapped whatever energy I had left; my endurance was next to nothing now.
Again, my eyes went unfocused as I tuned the world out, gazing blankly at the walls that had once held a family. Soon, a particular picture caught my eye, forcing me to focus; it was the one of Octavia. It had been taken at one of her last concerts a year or two back. Her mane and tail were all gray-having lost their color as age began to show-and yet her smile was the same as it always had been; mysterious, polite, and ever youthful. Seeing that smile brought a similar one to my face, and I took another sip of tea. Without intending, I slipped into deep reveries.
Octavia had been happy till the very end. As I, she too had had a rough life; yet, instead of letting it drag her down, she used it to make her stronger. Sure, I had lost my first husband, I was a rehabilitated addict, an alcoholic, and-in the beginning- an irresponsible mother; yet, I turned out OK in the end.
So then why do I feel so sour?
A good question, one that I eventually concluded after remembering a particular diary entry of mine. I pondered over why those that I knew accepted their deaths, and then I recalled the theory of becoming complete. When I put one and one together, I realized with a start that once Octavia had ‘completed’ herself, she died soon after. Maybe that was the key to my own situation, why death hadn't taken me; I still needed to complete myself. Resolution flooded in.
Putting down the drink, I cantered out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my room. Once there, I opened one of my drawers and pulled out my old DJ glasses. The leather strap was worn and frayed, and the tinted glass held a fine layer of dust. For a moment, I just stared; looking at the object that held so many memories. Without knowing, a tear fell from my eye before quickly being absorbed into my fur. Those glasses, they were my world at one point; I had neglected them for too long. Slowly bringing the goggles out of the desk and brushing them clean, I strapped them onto my head before exiting my room.
The descent down the stairs brought on a stony resolve. The tears came swifter now, carving lines down my coarse facial fur before falling off my chin to the dusty floor. Turning at the kitchen, I made my way into the living room. The grand piano was there, neglected and abandoned. The last time the cover had been opened was at least two years ago. When I flipped open the lid smooth keys as clean as the day I’d closed it met my teary gaze. Shuddering slightly at the exertion, I pulled out the piano chair and sat down before taking the goggles from my head and putting them so that they blacked out my vision.
My life has run its course; I’ve planted my hooves firmly on the ground and ridden the ups and downs to my greatest potential. I’ve loved, I’ve hated, I’ve cried, I’ve laughed… but most importantly, I’ve overcome.
All that’s left are the smooth keys in front of me and a final wish. I could do it; I would call her to me and see her for a final time. Taking a deep meditative breath I brought my left hoof down on a key. It gave off a pure sound, one that rung out crisply and reverberated pleasantly; I could feel the bass undertone rattle deep in my chest. An electric blue light had flashed before my eyes; a mere spark, or a compound that, when combined with another, would begin to manifest.
A brief smile tweaked the corners of my muzzle. I still had it in me.
I played a second note, and the blazing red spark elicited rose to accommodate the blue one. Together they danced momentarily before combining together as a crackling blue and red orb.
I played a fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh.
Overcoming the crippling emotions at seeing such vibrant light enter my dreary home again, my playing became far more refined. The sad melody echoed richly around the living room, and I pondered what madness had made me stop playing in the first place. Unable to stop now, the music continued. In front of me, the colors began taking shape, coming together to create The Picture.
The body began to appear, then the mane, the horn, the eyes, the smile… at about this point, the image usually fell apart. I wouldn’t let it. Driven by unbridled determination and my very spirit, I sped up the pace. My hooves flew across the keys almost subconsciously; the image in front of me was what I was concentrating on now. Blazing whiteness began to fill in the body, starting at the rump, and then spreading to color the mare’s coat a pure white. Soon to follow was the mane and tail; electric blue and crackling with energy. A darker blue began to creep in, coloring the remaining sections in marvelous vibrancy. My heart soared, the tears fell like waterfalls. I cried out in excitements, getting up from my chair to have a better look. Down below, I could still feel my hooves playing on. The image, I’d completed it after eighty six years! The immenseness of it all sent deep shivers through my body. It was only when this initial bout of emotion cleared that I realized something: The picture wasn't of my mother, but of me; a younger me.
Numbness hit me like a brick. My maw fell open; this whole time I’d been trying to complete myself, not my elusive mother. My throat felt tight, my eyes closed and I fell to the floor; leaving the keys for a final time. And yet somehow, the music continued to play. The image of my body began to break apart, scattering to surround me in luminescent light. Reaching out to grab at a wisp of color as it floated by, I noticed with a start that it was warm to the touch, that I could actually feel the music. Too amazed to question, I pulled myself to my hooves and looked around.
The colors had settled into places around me and began to transform; change into their own individual entities. To my left, Octavia appeared, her body a concoction of music and fluorescent. She held in her hoof the cello I’d given her. To my right, Dawnfire appeared with his brother, the looks on their faces were that of content; it was clear that they had been reunited in the end.
Slowly, the room began to fill up with the ponies that had left my life as I’d continued to live. In a line they stood, directing me to the end, a light that had appeared; beckoning softly. Unable to resist, I slowly cantered towards it. As I approached the wall of light, a figure appeared: Orrick, not the old age-battered Orrick I knew, but the one I’d fallen in love with all those years ago. His chest was puffed out proudly, and his wings were flared, inviting me into a hug.
Overcome by unbridled emotion, I fell back to the floor. Seeing all the entities was momentous, but Orrick himself had rendered me helpless. Figuring that I could move no further, Orrick left the wall of light and padded towards me. Looking up from the floor I saw his eyes gazing back down at me; love emanating from them so strongly that I again had the will to move. In a shaky action, I raised my hoof to touch his chest feathers. As expected, he felt as warm as he had in life. With a grunt, I pulled myself to stand again before embracing him. As his feathers wrapped around me a silent message was passed between the two of us: I’d see him soon. As he pulled away from me, I noticed that the others had gone through the wall of vibrant light. I didn’t want him to leave, and yet I knew he had too; Orrick had to move on, and so did I. With a nod and a reassuring glance, I dropped to my four hooves and allowed him to break the embrace. With a final loving stare, he turned and evaporated through the wall of light. As the music stopped the colors disappeared, taking my beautiful mate with them.
Removing my glasses, I found myself standing at the center of the cold living room. I no longer needed to keep a living memory of my mate, so I went over to the piano and placed the goggles on the keys, closing the lid in calm resolution.
With that task done, I made my way to my room; collecting pictures from around the house as I went. In my dorm now, I took the time to mount the frames, using my desk, the wall, and even the bed as places for them to rest. With that done, I went into my drawer and pulled out my diary and a card; it showed the image of a mare looking over a beautiful horizon, her back facing the viewer. And in the setting sun, a single word in bold black letters stated:
Believe.
It had been the one Orrick had given me when we're in the academy together all those years ago; it had come with the glasses.
Settling into my bed, surrounded by the pictures of my life, I opened up the journal and wrote a single sentence.
‘What a life I’ve had.’
Overcome by a sudden bout of fatigue, I fell back onto my pillow, clutching the card close to my chest. Taking a final glance out the window, I took note that the sun was setting, casting the world in a brilliant shade of pink and orange. With a sigh, I closed my eyes and relaxed. Eternal sleep came, and then there was nothing.
Then there was light.