//------------------------------//
// Silence 
// Story: Dear Applejack 
// by Captain of the Guard 
//------------------------------//

	The next letter, sitting there on her bed, just like the last. Taking a deep, shaking breath, the mare attempted to prepare herself. As she unfolded the letter, a colorful image fluttered out. Applejack saw as the photograph landed smoothly on the wool blanket, facing upward. The mare it depicted shook Applejack, a face she hadn’t seen in so long. She was lost in the eyes, which seemed to phase from orange to violet, just like Applebloom’s. And there, the red silk ribbon that held her red silk hair in place. It had been so long since she had seen her mother, and there she was, looking up at her with a wide smile. So young. She was beautiful, before the age and substance took its toll. She was beautiful.
“Hello, Ma.” She sniffled, blinking tears from her eyes as she bit her lip.
The letter read:

Dear AJ,
Do you ever watch the sunrise? There is a time, a short window of time, where the sun is just beyond the rows of trees, and the light rides across the fields, comparable only to a flood. The light is like water, swirling forth through golden tides, and drowning the blue hues of the dying night. It’s beautiful, Applejack. Your mother and I used to watch the sunrise, every morning. Do you remember? It was the last thing that held us together, that silence. And now, my sun’s setting, and all I can do is enjoy the silence.
Your mother and I loved you, and we would never, ever, do anything to harm you. I know that for a time, you thought that we had abandoned you. We never even fed you, or watched you. You thought that we didn’t love you, because we spent every hour of everyday fighting. Screaming.That’s not true, sweetheart. We loved you so much, and we always will. It was you that we fought about, after all. Don’t feel any guilt, because it’s not your fault at all, but it is true that we fought over you. Your mother wanted to send you to Manehattan, or Canterlot, to a university. I wanted to raise you on the family farm, though. She thought that I didn’t believe in you. She thought that I was holding you back. Applejack, I’m so sorry for what I am about to say, because your mother was right. I always told myself otherwise, and made excuses to your ma, but I kept you home because I wasn’t ready to let you go. You could have graduated with a degree, and lived in luxury and splendor. I denied you that. I lied to myself, every day. I said to myself that you would be happier on the farm, with your family. How could I have known? I hope, Applejack, with every bit of my will, that what I told myself is true. I love you.
I’ve been thinking about your mother, now that she’s gone. I wasted all those years, bickering in spite and in drunken rage and shame. I could have held her in my hooves, like I did when we were young. I could have loved her like she deserved, but I wasted every hour. I lost her so fast, Applejack. The days went by so fast, and now that she’s gone, time is crawling. The minute I spent with her, before she died in my hooves, was the first moment we had shared as husband and wife in years. I will cherish that moment. It makes me think, though. If your mother survived, she would have never touched the bottle again. Neither would I. We could have continued to raise you three. We could have continued to love each other, as the family we should have been. There’s only one life we get to live, darling. Don’t waste it on drinking, like we did. You’ve got two siblings and an old grandma to take care of, so you have enough to worry about. I know you’re smarter than we were, though. I know you’ll be the pony that your mother and I never could be. I know you’ll make your family proud, sugarcube.
I want to tell you about your ma, what you didn’t know. She was like you. A lot like you, actually. Tough, stubborn, and steadfast. She was a strong mare, just like you. Stronger than I ever was. Your mother wanted the best for our children. If she could have, she would have given you the world. She always wanted to help, but she could never, ever, accept anyone else’s help. She thought she could kick her liver into working again all by herself, and it was that stubborn attitude that told her she could. She was wrong. Your ma was so kind, and caring, but she would never admit it. Modest to say the least. Strange, isn’t it, how she managed to be so filled with pride and yet so modest. That false pride was the only thing that kept her sane, that kept her safe from the grief and shame. And you, of course. You and your siblings were her true pride. The pride that she didn’t lie to herself about. The pride that I didn’t lie to myself about. Be strong, love, like your mother was. Just don’t let your pride hurt you.
Another thing about your mother, before things fell apart, is that she loved to just hold you, and look into those beautiful eyes. When your older brother was born, she would cradle him and watch over him for hours and hours. She did the same to you, too. Never ever let you out of her sight. She would play with your mane, and sing to you, and you were the most precious thing to her. You still are. She would have treated Applebloom the same, if she had more than a few days to spend with her. I saw, the first time your mother looked into Applebloom’s eyes, something that I hadn’t seen in so long. I saw life, and hope. and joy.
Your mother wrote you a letter as well, which you will read soon. Maybe then you can understand her better, or maybe not. I haven’t read it, so it could say any number of things. One thing I know is that she died thinking of you, and that put a smile on her face. I don’t think you’ve ever seen her smile, not truly. It’s no wonder that the one thing that could get her to smile was you. Thank you for that, Applejack. You gave her a gift that I couldn’t all this time. We love you dear.
Pa

Applejack lowered herself to the bed, looking sternly at the picture of her mother as she choked on her tears. I love you too. All she could say. All she needed to say. The silence held her together. Silence.