"I just keep replaying the event over and over in my mind, asking what I could have done different."
Ruth observed the ex-soldier, Wayne, as he shifted around on the couch on which he sat. He was a large, muscular man in his late 20's. He wore a stone-cold, serious expression.
"Right," said Ruth, writing a note on her yellow legal pad. "How do you mean, different?” she asked.
"I don't know, just like, what if I had been driving? What if the IED had hit the humvee on the passenger side? What if I had listened, you know, to that gut feeling instead of shrugging it off? I thought that morning before the patrol that I should warn them, but I didn't because I thought it was silly. No one can predict these things. But if I had, then I'd be dead and George would still be here."
"You're having survivor's guilt."
In the several sessions they’d had, Ruth had always noticed that Wayne was either looking dejectedly off into space or looking at her, barely displaying any emotion. Some patients wore their hearts on their sleeves, while others, like Wayne, were a bit more difficult to talk to.
"Yeah, no shit," Wayne retorted, leaning up from the couch, "Brilliant. What other gems you got there, Ruth?"
"And I'm seeing some anger here," Ruth consoled, "I'm trying to help you. There's no need to lash out."
"Oh? Have you ever been in an explosion? Have you ever seen your buddy's guts blown all over the place? Have you ever woken up in a hospital bed day after day, thinking for that brief moment after you open your eyes that you may, just may have been dreaming, only to have the clarity hit you that, no, it's not a dream?"
"So you were in denial, then?"
He sighed, took a pause, and responded, "Yeah, for a bit. But then I realized that, no, this is my life for real."
"Well, Wayne, our session is almost over. I'll leave you with this: a lot of times we get caught up in our emotions, our anger, our sadness. We may think that we are our problems, but in reality, we simply have them. They are not who we actually are."
"Thanks for the kind words. See you next week, I guess," said Wayne, getting up. He shook Ruth's hand and walked out the door. As soon as he was gone, Ruth let out a sigh of relief. The grandfather clock on her wall chimed as it struck five.
She put her notepad on her desk, got her purse, and left her office.
The heat beat down on her as she left the Veteran's Affairs building on this dry, summer day. She walked out to the parking lot to begin her commute home. Waves of heat emanated off of the asphalt, visible as an optical illusion which made it look as though there were puddles of water on the ground. The smell of smoke was pungent in the air. Wind madly whipped her hair as gusts buffeted her.
Normally, the weather here was nice, but this summer had been abnormally hot, leading to droughts and wildfire. Ruth had relocated to this city due to the several military bases and high veteran population, as she was a specialist in post-traumatic stress disorder.
However, in recent years she had come to regret her decision to practice in her chosen field. Even though she truly wished to help the troops, the years of seemingly endless warfare had led to some tough and emotionally taxing cases. Years-long tours of duty, a rarity when she went to doctoral school, were now the norm. Once certainly-fatal wounds were survivable nowadays. A few decades ago, Wayne would have died in that armored vehicle along with his friend. However, psychology hadn't quite kept pace with medical science, and soldiers like Wayne were paying the price in terms of mental health.
As Ruth approached her car, she noticed a rabbit underneath it. Probably just trying to get some shade, she thought.
Hey there, Mister Bunny!
She stopped in her tracks for a brief moment, but then continued. What a strange thought. Animals don't have names. As she reached the car door, the rabbit darted away at the sound of her footsteps.
Don't be shy. Don't run. I won't hurt you.
Ruth blinked several times. How silly. The rabbit would run, since that was its instinct. For all it knew, she could've been a dangerous predator.
She got in the car and turned the key, starting it. She drove west towards the interstate, glimpsing a view of the mountains.
Normally, the view would be gorgeous, like a postcard. Today, however, a wildfire was burning on the slopes, as it had the past several days. The sight of smoke billowing up from the mountains made it look as though a volcano was erupting. Ruth tried to push the worry from her mind.
Smoke on the mountain from a snoring dragon? Oh, but I don't like dragons…
"What?" she questioned. Why would she think about a snoring dragon, of all things? It was obviously a wildfire, caused by anything from a carelessly pitched cigarette to a deliberate arsonist. What would make her think of a dragon?
Ruth figured that she had probably just had a long day at work. She needed to clear her head. So, she turned on the radio to listen to as she drove.
"—on fire. The smoke can be seen and smelled for miles; asthmatics are advised to stay indoors. Firefighters have attempted to contain the blaze, but windy conditions are making it difficult. Unless there is some rain soon, fire officials say that the dry and windy conditions will only serve to stoke the blaze."
Just get the pegasi weather team on it.
Ruth turned off the radio and slammed on the breaks. Thankfully, she was right in front of a stoplight which was turning yellow, and there were no cars behind her.
"What on earth? Why am I thinking these strange things? Did someone slip LSD into the water supply or something?" she exclaimed out loud to no one in particular.
She told herself to calm down, and remember her breathing techniques. In... out... in... out... Slowly, calm reasserted itself over her mind and body. The light turned green as she continued.
However, as soon as she reached the overpass by the interstate, she saw several police cars blocking the road. Traffic slowed to a crawl as she turned the radio back on to hear what was happening.
"Mandatory evacuation zones have been extended east to the interstate north to the Academy. Anyone living in those zones must evacuate."
A shiver went down Ruth's spine. SHE lived in the evacuation zone. What about her belongings? What about her house? What about...
"Fluffy!" she yelled. Her pet dog was still at her house!
She continued towards the roadblock, stopped her car by the side of the road, got out, and walked up to the police. She approached one of the officers and spoke.
"Listen, you have to let me back in there. My pet dog is in there and—"
The officer held up his hand and consoled, "Yeah, I know. Look, lady, I'm sorry, but the fire has been unpredictable today, and we had to expand the evac zones. You aren't the only one with pets."
"But... but..."
"Sorry, you aren't convincing me."
Use the stare.
Ruth's head jolted up as she followed her strange compulsion to stare the officer in the eyes for a few moments.
"Look, the firemen will do their best to save people's pets and homes, including yours. I can't let you in, and that's final." The officer pointed Ruth away. She walked back to her car, angry and confused. Why couldn't they let her back in? Why was she compelled to stare down the officer? What, like that would somehow make him change his mind? How silly.
She got back in her car, angry and upset at not being able to retrieve her dog. She was about to turn the key before she realized that she had no place to stay.
Ruth drove to the parking lot of a nearby restaurant, parked, got out her phone, and called her sister, who lived an hour north of her.
"Hi, Sharon? It's Ruth... Yeah, it's really bad down here. I'm in the evac zone. I was wondering... oh, really? I didn't even have to ask! I'll be there in an hour... I love you, too."
She hung up the phone and smiled. She and her sister were very close, and she trusted Sharon more than anyone. They had chosen different paths in life, with Sharon pursuing alternative psychology rather than mainstream psychology as Ruth had done. Despite this, Ruth still felt that she could trust Sharon with anything. Even trained psychologists like Ruth needed someone besides themselves to talk to, after all.
*****
"Ruth, I'm so glad you're okay!"
Sharon and Ruth hugged, and Ruth stepped inside.
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" Ruth asked.
"You haven't been listening to the news?"
"No, I've just had on the music. Why?"
"The fire’s jumped containment lines and spread down the mountain. Homes have burned in the city."
Ruth's heart skipped a beat. Sharon grabbed the remote and turned up the volume on the TV. There was a news reporter standing in front of some burning homes. Flames lapped at the side of a house, eating at the wooden siding.
"And right behind me, you can see a home burning in this neighborhood. If you are just tuning in, we can confirm that this fire has now claimed homes and has spread to the city."
Ruth sat down, burying her head in her hands. She hoped that her home would be spared.
*****
That evening, Ruth did not eat much at all. The fire had killed any and all appetite. She pushed her plate full of food away.
Well, at least I'm not as picky as Angel Bunny.
"Hey, Sharon?"
Sharon looked up from her plate at her sister.
"Yes, Ruth?"
"I've been having these weird thoughts lately."
"Oh, really? Like what?"
"Just random thoughts about odd things like dragons, pegasi, and sentient rabbits. And no, I'm not crazy," she chuckled, "Believe me, I'm a psychologist. I'd know."
"Mythological creatures? Interesting. Did this just start?"
"Today, yeah."
"Before or after the fire?"
"It started just before."
"Any other stressful things going on in your life?"
"Yes, I had a few difficult patients today."
"Okay, so we'll try and see if this is an anxiety response. So, did you recently watch any movies with fantasy elements?"
Ruth chuckled, "You know that I don't watch movies. I prefer a nice book. And I'm more into romance or western novels. But no, I haven't read a fantasy book in a while."
"Well, that's interesting. Do the thoughts sound like anything foreign or different from you?"
Ruth paused for a moment before answering, "No, actually, they sound like thoughts that I myself had at one point. Almost like memories. But that's impossible, since those mythical creatures aren't real."
Sharon snickered, "Maybe it's memories from a past life."
Ruth groaned. "Not that past life thing again."
Ruth and Sharon had been very close in college, both deciding to pursue psychology degrees. However, Sharon had ultimately taken a very different path than Ruth, opening a past life therapy clinic. Though Ruth still valued her sister's opinions on other mental health issues, she had learned to take them with a grain of salt.
"I'm serious. You yourself said that you don't have any signs of schizophrenia or any other disorders. What else could it be?"
Ruth sighed, "Um, maybe anxiety? It did start before the fire, true, but I knew that the fire has been going on for days. Maybe I was worried about it on a subconscious level. Maybe this is all just anxiety related."
"Could be," Sharon responded, "But this sounds like a classic case of past life recall to me. That can be driven by anxiety sometimes."
"Alright," whispered Ruth, leaning in towards her sister, glancing around furtively as if the whole world was somehow watching and would hear her give any credence at all to the idea, "What if it is a past life? What would you recommend?"
"Usually, when I have patients come to me who are having memories from a past life, I help them with what's called 'past life regression.' It's a hypnotic technique designed to bring the repressed memories to the surface. Once we can do that, you can consciously deal with whatever your subconscious has been repressing."
Ruth remained silent for a few moments. Finally, she spoke, "Well, I guess it's worth a shot. Certainly can't hurt."
Ruth still didn't quite buy into the whole past life story, but felt that if she agreed to do a hypnosis session, she could put the idea to rest in Sharon's mind as well. Besides, as she said, it wouldn't hurt. At most, it would just end up being a waste of time.
"Very good," said Sharon, "Let's begin right after dinner."
*****
Sharon dimmed the lights in the guest bedroom. She pushed the red "record" button on a tape recorder and set it down on the bedside table. Then, she sat in a chair next to a bed which Ruth lay on.
"Alright, I want you to close your eyes. Listen only to the sound of my voice," Sharon instructed.
Ruth closed her eyes and listened.
"Good. Now, breathe in deeply. Deeply. Exhale... now. Again. In... out... in... out..."
Ruth did as she was told.
"Every muscle in your body is relaxing. Your toes are relaxing. Your feet are relaxing. Your legs are relaxing. Your torso is relaxing. Your fingers, hands, and arms are relaxing. Your neck is relaxing. Your head is relaxing. Now, your body is totally relaxed."
Ruth laid perfectly still, her body in a state of total relaxation.
"Now, your mind is relaxing. You are letting go of all stressful thoughts as you focus only on the sound of my voice. Now, we are going to explore some of your memories of your past life, what you are repressing. Travel back in time with me to the time that you felt the most secure, the happiest. You are living that experience again. Tell me what you see."
Images slowly came to Ruth's mind.
"I'm... flying. I have wings, and I'm with... butterflies? I'm so ecstatic, I'm singing! It's wonderful!"
"Very good. Can you tell me any details? What does your body look like? What you are singing? Do you know?"
"No, not quite."
"Is there anyone else there?"
"No, just me."
"Alright. Now, try to recall some different memories: a time you felt triumphant."
More images came.
"I've just done something... flying... I've just flown, very fast. There's a tornado or something. It's an accomplishment. All my friends are there, congratulating me."
"What do they look like? Any names?"
"I'm not sure. They aren't human; they stand on four legs. They are multicolored in bright pastel shades, but the images are too blurry for me to make anything out."
"Very good. Well, we're making decent progress. Normally it takes several rounds of hypnosis for details like names and faces from past lives to emerge."
Ruth opened her eyes and sat up.
"This is silly," she groaned, "This is probably just my over-active imagination or something. Besides, none of this is helping me. All these happy thoughts are just making me sad about what's going on right now in my present life. It's nothing more than fantasizing and escapism rather than actually dealing with my real life problems. I always tell my own patients that escapism is unhealthy, and I think I should follow my own advice."
"On the contrary, I disagree. It's not escapism; it's a learning experience. Our past lives can be an excellent source of inspiration for us in our present lives. You might be having flashbacks to it now, in this stressful time in your life, because there's something that your subconscious wants you to learn from your past experiences."
"That, or it could just be idle daydreaming," Ruth responded.
Sharon switched off the tape recorder. "Well, we can always come back to it, I suppose. Whenever you want to, we can have another hypnotherapy session. No need to rush. I'm sure that you'll want to continue if you start having more vivid or frequent past life recall events."
"Whatever you say, Sharon."
They both got up and left the room. Ruth sighed. Though she loved and respected her sister, she still felt that this hypnosis session was entirely unproductive in getting to the root of her problems.
"Hey, I'm going to go outside and have a cigarette, if you want to join me," offered Sharon.
"You know I don't smoke, but I'll sit out there with you anyway."
They both went out to the front porch, and Sharon lit a cigarette. By this time, the sun had set, and the land had been covered in darkness, except for a hellish orange glow from the southwest. It lit up the mountains like a floodlight.
Ruth sniffed as a tear rolled down her cheek. "The city is burning... M-my home—"
She stumbled over her words, stuttering.
"Just try not to think about it, Ruth."
Sharon took her sister in her arms and held her tight.
*****
The next day, Ruth sat glued to the TV screen as images of the ongoing blaze and the firefighters battling it flooded the screen.
"You know," Sharon began as she walked by on her way through the living room, "Watching that isn't going to make you feel any better. You should come take a walk with me."
Ruth stretched out her arms above her head and lifted herself up from the couch, and the two sisters went outside and walked down the block.
"My boyfriend John was telling me this hilarious story the other day about a guy from his work," said Sharon as they walked,
"Apparently, this guy Bob that John works with pretends to be deaf so he can avoid talking to customers. He just walks around the store, doing nothing until his shift’s over. Now John had tried telling the manager about Bob, but she didn't believe him ‘cause Bob is clever and always helps customers when she's watching.
"But then the other day, a customer came up to him in the electronics aisle and asked him about the HDMI cables. Bob pointed to his ear and indicated that he was deaf. Bob walked away, thinking he got out of talking to this guy. But then Bob was by the checkout lanes later, and his cell phone rang. He picked it up and started talking to his friend, but then who should walk by but that same customer! Needless to say, the customer was pissed. But instead of telling a manager, he walked up to Bob and clocked him right in the face! When the manager found out about this, she didn't even say a word. She just pointed Bob to the door."
Ruth laughed at the story, amused, and glad that her mind was off the fire. They continued walking and talking for about five more minutes.
Presently, Ruth caught a whiff of smoke from the fire that had been blown by a southwesterly wind. She sighed. She just couldn't escape the fire.
Fly. Just fly away, far away.
She wished she could.
*****
"...451 Mountainside Drive. 472 Mountainside. 983 Silverspur Street. 1035 Silverspur. 1182 Silverspur. 124 Poco Boulevard. 191 Poco. 210 Poco. 211 Poco. 215 Poco. These are just a few of the hundreds of homes that have been confirmed destroyed. The incident commander will release a full list online, and we will continue reading them as they become available."
Ruth's eyes widened as her head trembled.
"Ruth... I'm so sorry..."
Her eyes watered. She screamed. Sharon held her tight.
"I'm there for you, sister. It's okay. It'll all be okay. You can live with me."
Ruth bawled for another five minutes. After she was finally done, she sobbed, "Sharon, thank you so much for everything. I don't know what I'd do without you."
She quietly sobbed for another few minutes until she regained her composure.
"Alright Ruth, I'm going to cook us some dinner. Do you want the TV on or off?"
"Off, I guess. I mean, now that I know, there's really no point in watching it anymore."
Sharon turned off the TV and walked into the kitchen. Ruth stretched out on the couch and closed her eyes, her thoughts consuming her. Did her dog make it out okay? She tried to suppress the images of the poor thing burning to death and yowling in pain. What about her life? She didn't want to be a burden on her sister; she needed a place of her own to stay. She didn't have fire insurance. She didn't have enough savings to build a new home. Where would she live?
It's okay. My beaver friends can just build me a new home.
What wishful thinking that was.
*****
For the next few weeks, Ruth kept a mostly clear head about her. She still went in to work at the VA and counselled the veterans who were her patients. Even though she herself was going through terrible trauma, she still felt a duty to the soldiers. Leaving them without someone to talk to just because she was going through a rough time would be unkind and selfish.
She was normally very good at segregating her work and personal feelings, and felt that she was doing a good enough job of it now.
Her free time, which would normally be spent with her dog, was mostly spent with her sister, as her dog had in fact perished in the fire along with the house. Ruth and Sharon did a lot of things together as she tried to keep her mind off of her loss.
One evening, Ruth was sitting in the living room, reading a book, when Sharon walked up to her.
"Hey, Ruth. John and I are going to see a movie, do you wanna come?"
Ruth looked up from her book and replied, "You know I don't watch movies, Sharon."
"Aw, come on, it's the world premier! And it's at the IMAX on fifth street! And the ticket's on me!" Sharon urged.
"That still doesn't make me want to go any more than I did before.This is just like that one time you tried to get me to eat steak at that steakhouse, and kept saying things like dry-aged Kobe beef sirloin, and that you'd pay for it. Sorry, but I'm still a vegetarian."
Sharon chuckled at the analogy. "Well, suit yourself. I'll be back in a few hours."
"Okay, I'll be waiting," said Ruth, returning to her reading.
She read for several more hours. As she reached the end of a chapter, she looked up at the clock.
"Wow, look at the time!"
It was nearly 2:30 AM. Ruth had been so engrossed in her book that she had stayed up far too late. One of the reasons that she enjoyed books rather than movies was that she could imagine the characters and scenes in her own way and at her own pace, and she could get lost in the pages. Whereas a movie was somebody else's vision.
She got up from the couch and headed off to bed, but then stopped in her tracks as something hit her. Sharon still hadn't arrived home yet. She should have been home about half an hour ago.
Somewhat nervous, she got out her cell phone and dialed her sister. It rang eight times.
"Hi, you've reached Sharon with Past Life Regression Therapy. I'm not available right now, please leave a message."
"Hey Sharon, it's Ruth. Just wondering where you are. Give me a call back when you get this."
She hung up and headed upstairs to bed. She was probably overreacting. After all, Sharon was out with her boyfriend. Maybe they were back at his place, sleeping together. She would have called John, but she didn't have his number. That must've been it. She chuckled and laughed at herself for worrying as she tucked into bed and drifted off to sleep.
*****
The next morning, Ruth awoke. For a brief moment, she expected to see her old room at her old house, but then remembered that her home had burnt to the ground. She sighed. Now she knew what Wayne the veteran was talking about with awakening right before clarity hits.
She got dressed for work and headed downstairs. She expected to see Sharon at the breakfast table, but she was nowhere to be found. Perhaps she really had spent the evening at John's.
Ruth looked at her phone and expected to see a text message, but there were no texts or missed calls.
Her heart rate increased slightly, and she was a bit worried. However, she decided that her sister must have simply slept in and hadn't checked her phone yet. Ruth made herself some breakfast and walked outside to her car, ready to begin her commute.
She drove out of the neighborhood and towards the interstate. She passed seventh street, sixth street, and then stopped at the stoplight at fifth street in the right lane.
As she glanced to her left down fifth street, she saw the IMAX theater. Dozens of police cars with flashing lights were parked outside, and the grounds had been sealed off with yellow crime scene tape.
A lump formed in her throat.
When the light turned green, Ruth slammed the gas with a lead foot, cutting across several lanes of lanes of traffic to make a left turn. Horns blared as she cut several cars off. She could have been T-boned, but she didn't care, occupied with the single-mindedness of finding out if her sister was okay.
She drove down fifth towards the theater, parked her vehicle on the side of the road, and ran up to the police line.
"Whoa, hold on, lady, you can't go back there! This is a crime scene," said an officer, holding out his arm to block her path.
Ruth sighed. She seemed to be encountering this problem a lot lately.
"What happened? Where's my sister?"
"Last night, some maniac ran into the theater and shot a bunch of people," said the officer, "Fuckin' psycho. If you're looking for someone who hasn't come back, they're probably either at one of the dozen or so city emergency rooms... or at the morgue."
Ruth's face fell flat, expressionless.
"Thanks," she muttered, walking back to her car, dazed. As if in a trance, she put the key in the ignition, turned it, and drove off towards the nearest hospital.
As she drove, her cell phone rang. Her heart skipped a beat as she fumbled in her purse to grab it, careful to keep one hand on the wheel as she pulled over to the side of the road.
It was an unknown number. She answered anyway. "Hello?"
"Is this Ruth?"
She recognized John's voice.
"John? Oh, thank God!"
"Sorry for not calling you earlier; last night was hectic, and I only just now found your number on Sharon's phone. I've been calling everyone she had on there and—"
"Everyone that she had? Wait, you don't mean..."
John was silent.
"Please tell me..." Ruth uttered meekly, trailing off.
"She's gone, Ruth."
Now Ruth was silent.
"I'm sorry. The doctors say they did everything they could..."
Ruth did not speak.
"The bullet was just lodged too deep, and there was no exit wound..."
Ten seconds passed.
"Ruth? You still there?"
Ruth finally broke the silence. She did not cry, sob, or gasp. She simply chuckled.
"Ruth?"
Ruth continued, her chuckles turning to full on laughs, which continued for a full minute.
"I'm hanging up now, Ruth. Goodbye."
She continued to laugh.
There, there. It's all okay. Fluttershy will look after you.
She opened the car door, running onto the sidewalk, falling to the pavement, cackling and guffawing hysterically.
*****
Ruth headed back to Sharon's, trudged dejectedly upstairs, and lay on the bed.
A deep, all pervasive sadness overcame her like a heavy lead weight of infinite mass, stretching on to eternity. She could see and feel no end to this pain. Ruth was not that religious, but imagined that there was some sort of malevolent god up above, coldly calculating the destruction of her life and all that she held dear, much like the Biblical figure of Job.
She pulled the covers tight around her head and went back to sleep.
*****
Ruth did not leave her bed for three days, except to eat and use the bathroom. Thankfully, she had slept with few dreams, but unfortunately, she had hardly slept at all, her thoughts tormenting her. She lie awake in bed one night, plagued by her demons.
The fire, the shooting... they say that tragedies come in threes. What would be next? Would a meteor strike the earth, wiping this beleaguered city from the map and the page of time itself? Perhaps some madman would lace the water supply with ricin. Better yet, a nuclear war would break out. Surely she'd be among the first to die, given the nearby military bases that would undoubtedly be targeted in any first strike.
Or, perhaps she wouldn't die. Perhaps she would be exposed to just enough radiation to die, but not quite enough to die immediately. She would live out another four or five days in agony, retching and coughing up blood, her beautiful crimson hair falling out in clumps.
Or she could kill herself. She could prevent any further suffering. She could end this hell that had become her life. What else did she have? The fire took her house and dog, the gunman took her sister. She had her job, but how effective would she be at counselling when she was afflicted by PTSD, the very same disease that she was trying to cure in others but couldn't even cure in herself? How could she expect to heal others by spending a few hours a week with them when she could not heal her own mind, which was with her constantly?
She had to do it. She couldn't risk being alive any longer and risk any more pain. The only true pain prevention method was death. If she was going to die anyway, it would be on her own terms.
Ruth got up from her bed and walked to Sharon's room. She wondered if Sharon had left her gun in the house before she died. Ruth rummaged through Sharon's closet until she found a metal strongbox about a foot in diameter.
"Where's the key?"
Ruth threw the box to the ground and tore apart Sharon's room until she found a small key hidden under the mattress. She walked over to the strongbox, and put the key in the lock. It fit.
Sure enough, the gun was there. Perhaps if Sharon had taken it with her... but no. Reality was reality, and the gun was left in the box to become Ruth's escape valve from this miserable world. The strongbox contained only two items, a loaded .38 revolver and a tape recorder.
"What's this?"
Ruth removed the tape recorder and pressed play.
"Alright, I want you to close your eyes. Listen only to the sound of my voice."
She shuddered. It was the recording of her hypnosis session with Ruth. What was it doing in here with the gun? Perhaps Sharon had left it here to keep it safe.
It's not very kind to kill yourself, you know. Not kind to yourself or to the people who depend on you.
Ruth scoffed at the voice. What did it know?
Actually... What did it know? Even if the whole past life thing wasn't true, the voice had been nothing but positive and encouraging towards her over the past month. She normally would not indulge in such escapism, but she recalled that the hypnotic experiences of reliving her "past life," if that was indeed what it was, had been nothing but pleasant.
Figuring that she could always just kill herself later, Ruth left the gun in the strongbox and lie down on Sharon's bed. She set the tape recorder on the bedside table and pressed play, again letting herself be hypnotized by the voice of her sister. This time, she was determined to live out whatever memories that came to her, no matter how whimsical or unrealistic that they seemed to her.
*****
Dear Princess Celestia,
I am surrounded by my animal friends. They are with me even in my old age, ever a source of comfort. But I'm reluctant to die, even as I look back on what an amazing life I've had. The doctors gave me a year to live, and I've lived two years since then. I never would have thought that my other five friends would outlive me, but am glad that I get to see them all and say goodbye before I die.
I've never been much for science, but have asked Twilight Sparkle to see if science could tell us what happens after we die.
"Well, Fluttershy, science can't really speak to this issue. Science can only tell us what is verifiable and repeatable, which the afterlife is not," she tells me, "I personally don't have a clue, but will give you various religious theories. Some believe that we simply cease to be. Some believe that we ascend to a higher plane of existence, such as heaven.
"Yet others believe that we are reincarnated and go on to live more lives in other worlds. They believe that, though those worlds are not quite hell or damnation, they are imperfect in ways that ours is not. In those worlds, magic does not exist. Nature runs itself and is capricious, causing natural disasters unheard of here. Sentient beings are willing to murder each other over trivial things. War, disease, and psychosis are common."
I gulp upon hearing this last alternative. I ask if I will at least remember what it was like to live in the wonderful land of Equestria. Twilight responds,
"The reincarnation theory says that we may not fully remember every detail of our pony past life, but it will serve as an inspiration to us in the darker planes of reality as we reach out to comfort and serve the other souls who are there. We'll face trials there unlike any we could imagine here, but through them we will gain a sense of strength that we never knew we had before. Even though it isn't magic, it is an entirely new sort of strength that we couldn't ever achieve in Equestria."
I still am somewhat troubled by this idea. Needless to say, I'm scared. I talk to Rarity.
"Well, the whole reincarnation idea is rather odd," she says, "But if it were true, I would be up for the idea. Why, I could spread my love of fashion to whole new dimensions! Also, wouldn't it be rather selfish to want to remain in Equestria forever when there are other beings in other dimensions who could we could teach the lessons about friendship that we have learned here? Give freely of yourself and your wisdom to those who need it."
I talk to Pinkie Pie.
"So what if there's a next life and it's in a world less perfect than this? I'm sure that even they have heard of laughter and smiles before. Go spread the joy!"
I talk to Rainbow Dash.
"Life's an adventure! Whether it's this life or the next, you gotta be brave and face whatever challenges await! You'll always have fear, but wouldn't you rather stand up to that fear and live your dreams anyway rather than let it cripple you? Just remember to make new friends and never let them go until you have to. Stick by their side and help them through whatever crazy challenges the next world has to throw at you."
I talk to Applejack.
"Why, I ain't much for that past life theory. I prefer thinkin' that if we live right, we get to go to heaven. But supposin' reincarnation were true, I'd just do my best. I'd work hard. Even if in that world, you haf'ta work ten times harder, I'd do it. Above all else, I'd never give up; I'd be true to myself and I’d have integrity."
As I lay in my hospital bed writing this, I am prepared for whatever the afterlife has to throw at me. With the lessons that I have learned throughout my life about friendship, I know now that I can bring light into the next world. I will embody all the virtues of a true friend: magic, generosity, laughter, honesty, loyalty, and kindness. As long as I do that, I can both die in this world and live in the next with confidence."
*****
Ruth woke up from her hypnotic state. She smiled, got out of bed, and went back to the closet. She put the gun and the tape recorder back in the strongbox and locked it up.
She let out a chuckle and a sigh of relief. She didn't know whether to believe that what she saw actually happened, whether it was actually a past life or just her overactive imagination. But she knew that whatever this life had to throw at her, she would handle it with the six virtues that the friends from her hypnotic vision revealed to her.
*****
"So I had to shoot this kid. A KID, for Christ's sake. But what else could I do? He was about to lob a grenade over the barricade, right into our base. What kind of twisted people use kids to fight for them? And what kind of monster am I to shoot one? Am I no better than that guy who shot up the theater? Why was I any more justified than he was?"
Ruth sat listening to her newest patient, writing on her legal pad. She spoke, "I know that life seems a mess to you right now. But I can assure you that it gets better. I will help you through this. I'm prepared to listen, be a friend to you, and show you kindness."