Like the waves. Beautiful and strong... but they soon crash and die, and recede, withering, back into the blue beyond. They do not fight. They just end. They just crawl back into the ocean like death. Not screaming and crawling, just crawling back. Because it knows that it can't stop the process. It knows that Death has a job to complete and that job will be completed.
No, I'm not talking about the ocean.
Everything and every pony was dressed in black. Black veils, black dresses, black capes, and black vests. The Pegasus ponies flew clouds into the sky. They were fluffy and gray. They were puffy and feathery. Just like the smoke. Just like the smoke.
Birds did not chirp. Foals did not cry. All was silent. The grass was still. It was dull and lifeless, gray and dead. The trees loomed ominously like bats in a cave. They waited for the sunshine again. And they would soon forget the sadness. The overwhelming sadness. Small picture frames with a smiling stallion, bouquets of wildflowers, and pine-scented, lit candles cluttered three tables around a small, dark, gray coffin. The top was opened. The gold lining was faded. The hole in the ground was deep and dark like the Everfree. The air itself was clouded with sadness, still, stuffy, overwhelming sadness. The preacher's eyes were dark and sorrowful. My eyes were puffy and red from tears. Rainbow Dash stood by my side in the front of the grave.
"He was a good stallion," the preacher began in his soulful voice. I silently sobbed. "He was an even greater husband, and an excellent father. We are here to remember him. To relive his life. He died as he lived, a hero. Every pony in this town knew his name, and they all knew how big his heart was. We are gathered here today not to mourn his death, but to celebrate his life. Now, I few words from his wife."
Rainbow Dash gently pushed me up. I stood on shaky legs and stumbled to the podium. The preacher took my hoof and held it briefly in his hoof before giving me a silent stare. A silent stare of sympathy and sorrow. And then he moved to the side.
I took the microphone and rehearsed my speech silently in my head. It was dark. It was memorable. It was sad.
"My husband was the most caring stallion Ponyville has ever seen. He was gentle and kind, but he was fierce and determined as well," my voice wavered. But I did not cry. I could not cry. I had no tears left to shed. They were wasted over the two weeks since... that. "He smiled at every pony, and every foal stopped crying at his face, and he lit up every room he was in. To most ponies, he was a friend and someone who would hold your boulder for you. But he was more than that to me. He was a father to my children whom I adopted just after we were married. They loved him, he loved them back, and he played with them. He cared for them. For only such a short time. Too short of a time. Though he was all the things I listed before plus a father to every pony else, he was everything to me. All my life, I've been pushed aside. Ignored. Lessened. Bullied. Tormented. At one point I thought that only my Mother, Rainbow Dash, cared for me. I said that she wouldn't miss me when I was gone. So I went to the shakiest part of Ghastly Gorge. I positioned my wings, prepared to jump, when who should appear but him. His light blue eyes. His styled gray-and-white mane, his light brown coat. He said to me..."
"Stop!" the stallion yelled at me. His eyes were concerned. I'd never seen him before.
"Why should I?" I spoke, tears filling my eyes. "There's no point to ANY of this!"
"I know there isn't!" he said in that soft-as-silk voice. "But that doesn't mean you won't find a point."
"I've searched," I cried, stepping one hoof over the edge of the cliff. "Forever. Since I was little. I just can't find it!"
"That doesn't mean you WON'T find it," the stallion said gently. He reached out a hoof. "Please. Don't do this to yourself."
"You can't tell me how to feel," I sniffled, lifting my other foreleg. "You can't tell me what to do!"
"Please," he said, reaching further. "Don't do this."
I pushed his hoof away. He started yelling at me, his blue eyes wide, as I prepared to jump. He was screaming at me. Telling me how to feel. Breaking my heart. Breaking my spirit. I'd never seen him. I didn't know him. But somehow I HAD seen him before. Somehow I DID know him.
"Goodbye," I said, backing away further. "Maybe we would've been friends."
"Don't!" he screamed. "DON'T!"
"Its too late."
And I jumped. The rush of air waved my mane and tail. My stomach rose and my heart felt like it was thumping in my throat. My mind grew fuzzy and I closed my eyes, preparing for contact. I prepared for the knife through my body. The crushing impact of stone hitting bone. But instead I felt soft hooves under my body. Wing flaps piercing my ears. Hard breaths. Bright blue eyes before blackness.
The next image I saw was icy cold blue and striped gray-and-white as the beeping of the heart monitor lulled in the back of my brain.
"Hey," he whispered. "Did you find your purpose?"
His eyes were filled with love. I smiled, painfully, at him. I did find my purpose.
He was my purpose.
"... he died saving me," I whispered into the microphone. The audience was silent. Rainbow Dash was in shock. She didn't know of my suicide mission. Why would I tell her? "The carriage that hit him and killed him would've killed me if he hadn't pushed me aside. He didn't have to die. He didn't need to die. I wish it was me instead of him! It should've been me!"
I was ripped apart then. I crumbled. I broke. Before I was on the edge of breaking. The glass jar on the edge of the windowsill. But now I fell. Now I shattered. Now I broke into a million tiny pieces.
"He saved my life twice!" I spoke into the microphone. I was filled with such real sorrow, with such immense pain, that I could hardly speak. "And I couldn't manage to save his life once. Not even close enough."
Rainbow flew up to me. She wrapped her foreleg around my neck and pulled me into a tight hug. I could feel the tear stains on her cheek as I dryly sobbed into her shoulder. She would never admit she was crying. But it was the cold, hard truth. Like death. Cold. Hard. Unforgiving. Dark. Empty. Broken.
I took a wildflower in my mouth. I placed it in his coffin. I took one last look at the gravestone before I ripped away from Rainbow's iron grip. I ran into the forest. I ran to the middle. And I just ran. Until I felt like I should stop. But now I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. I wanted to forget, to pretend, to not be broken and to not be sad. I just wanted everything to be normal.
Though I could never be normal, could I? An orphaned filly with a sister/mother, two adopted children, and a household with one less pony. How in any way was that normal? My real father was dead. Burnt to ashes like a flower in flames. My real mother had died long before I could even remember her. My fake mother cared for me. But she had her own little family to deal with. My children were nearly taken care of by their "Granny" now. They didn't need me. The only pony who truly ever needed me, and the only pony who I ever truly needed, was my husband. The words on the gravestone echoed in my head.
Here lies Cloudy Daze,
Beloved Father and Husband
Kindest pony next to the Element of Kindness herself
May Celestia let him RIP