Wednesday, October 11th
As I stepped into the room, my hoof was immediately wet. I was confused. I rubbed my eyes trying to make things clearer, for I had just been rudely awakened. Had she dropped a vase? No. It was too wet. I suddenly realized…She really hadn’t. She hadn’t dropped anything. There was no spider. There was no ladybug. I looked straight ahead, and a hole was torn into the ceiling. I looked down, and there lay Pa, underneath a baby grand piano. Blood covered the floor and dipped deep into our carpets, leaving it to be stained permanently. I screamed in terror and fright. Ma came running as soon as she heard me. We all cried. We had no clue what to do. Our main guide was killed. And in the middle of our living room, underneath a piano, we were all in shock. Gertrude passed out on the floor, Helga was sobbing and removing his hat, and mother sat and cried. I stood up “What are we supposed to do?! This piano is too heavy for anypony, especially three helpless mares, to carry! Has there ever been anyone else around? What are we to do?”. Mother cried, louder and louder. She walked out of the room, and as I followed, I tripped over a rock. USELESS. DUMB. ROCKS. WHY DO WE EVEN LIVE ON A ROCK FARM ANYWAYS?! ROCKS ARE STUPID! I stomped to my room as I thought all these thoughts. I sobbed. I was mad, but I never wanted him to die. How often do pianos fall out of the sky anyways? Never! How could this have happened? First the parrot, now him? Is this all centered around him? Are WE in danger?