Some strange things have been happening lately.
The sun and moon seem to be out of control. Sometimes the sun rises in the middle of the night, other days the moon eclipses the sun during the day. Nopony really knew what to make of it. Princess Twilight Sparkle told us it would be alright though.
Sure has been doin a number on the apple trees though. Seems like all they've been doin' lately is rotting on the branches. Big Mac says its cause they're not gettin' the sun they need, on account of the sun and moon flip flopping around in the sky all the time. I think its cause Applejack's not here to take care of 'em.
We buried Applejack a week ago. The whole apple family got together for her funeral. I'd only been to one funeral before this. I remembered that they opened the casket so the family could see their departed one last time. They never opened Applejack's casket. They left it bolted shut the whole time. Granny Smith said it was better that way.
I didn't think so.
I didn't cry during the funeral. I told myself to be strong.
But after Applejack was down in the ground, when we had gone home and settled in bed for the night, I cried. I cried like I never had before. Tears rolled down my cheeks like a flood. I screamed. I wailed. I mourned the death of my sister in the only way I knew how.
I hadn't even gotten to say my farewells. I never got to say "I love you" one last time. There was no parting hug between sisters, nor were there any words of comfort she left me with. It was as if she had simply vanished from the face of the earth, without so much as a goodbye.
Big Mac came in to check on me. He didn't say a word, but just put a hoof on my shoulder. I looked up at him, and we locked eyes.
He had been crying.
His eyes were hard and glassy. Although he said not a word, those eyes told me all I needed to know. They told me that it was okay to cry. They said that I had suffered far beyond what somepony of my age should have to bear. But they also told me that the hardest part was yet to come.
He kissed my tear soaked cheek and said goodnight.
I wondered what he had meant. Surely the hardest part was behind us?
The next morning I realized what he meant.
Life went on as usual. Sweet Apple Acres had to be run by somepony, and now we were one pony short. Suddenly the weight of Applejack's workload fell upon my shoulders, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I wanted to sit around and mope and cry. Who wouldn't have? But that just wasn't an option. If I stopped working, the apples would wither and rot. Not to say that we weren't losing them fast already, what with the sun and moon spinnin' around in the sky all willy-nilly. We had to make the best of a bad situation, but it was only growing worse.
My world had become a single monotonous cycle. Wake up. Work. Eat. Sleep. Granny Smith, Big Mac, and I hardly even spoke anymore. Each of us had our own duties to accomplish. We became so absorbed in our own little spheres that we hardly knew the others existed. Even worse was our contact outside of the family. Big Mac only left the farm on weekends to sell apples in town. Granny Smith hardly ever left. She was busy trying every cure and home remedy she knew to try and get the trees producing again. Nothing helped.
As for me, I spent my entire day in the field. No more Cutie Mark Crusading for me. I hadn't even looked at my flank in weeks. I bucked apples, I fed pigs and chickens, I baled hay, I trimmed branches. And yet, no matter how much work I put in, nothing got any better. The sun and moon still battled daily for control over the sky. Most of the apples still rotted before we harvested them. Applejack was still dead.
For the first time in my life, I understood what futility meant.
No filly should ever have to learn the meaning of that word.
No filly should ever feel that their work accomplishes nothing.
Yet, that was my life. I was so helpless, so powerless, so utterly incapacitated. I felt insignificant.
But through it all, I soldiered on. Not for my own sake of course. I had long given up hope on the world returning to normalcy.
That hope was buried deep in Applejack's coffin.
No. I pressed on for the sake of those around me. I pressed on for Big Mac. I pressed on for Granny Smith. I pressed on for Scootaloo and Sweetie Bell and Peppermint Twist and Diamond Tiara. I pressed on for everypony who still depended on Sweet Apple Acres for food. I pressed on for their sake. Not my own. I was as good as dead, but not to these ponies.
I had to ponder though. Was this all there was to my life?
Was I to live out the rest of my days like this?
Would I spend every waking hour clawing my hooves down to the bone, and have it all add up to nothing?
Apparently I was. I didn't care anymore though. If nothingness was my lot in life, that was what I had to accept. It was time to make the best of a bad situation, even if it kept getting worse. There were many ponies out there who needed me to keep doing what I was doing.
I might amount to nothing, but they needed me nonetheless.