“I now sit alone in this empty house, staring at my mother's rainbow picture with a smile plastered on my face; every time I see it, I think of Dashie. I should be crying, and I should feel horrible. I want nothing but my daughter back, and yet, I feel relieved to know that everything is alright. She didn't run away, or leave on bad terms... she’s gone, home, where she belongs. She’s safe.
I look back down to my photo album, turning to the page after our most recent photo. The pages are blank. I still have a lot of life ahead of me, and I plan to make the best of it.
For my little Dashie.”
Tears were flowing from my eyes as I read the last part of “My little Dashie”, the tears slipping through my closed eyelids. This story produced so many tears that my head seemed the fit the description of a raincloud more than a human head. Pouring the contents of myself out of my eyes. The contrast of my white shirt had become dull due to the amount of tears this story had forced out of me. Keeping my right hand on the mouse, I moved the cursor to the red ‘X’ on my browser and closed the web page, tears still flowing out of my eyes. With my left hand, I tried to wipe away the wetness from my eyes, but it only caused the tears to spread across my face, forcing my eyes to become hazy. Trying as best I could, I brought myself out of the chair that was at my desktop, and collapsed on the mattress that was laid on the floor. My body was demanding that I slept, however the effect this story had on me was, without a doubt, a massive blow to my emotional state. With all of my might I tried to cast aside the thoughts the story had just emedded, moving aside the thought of Rainbow Dash and onto happier matters. My mind came up empty handed, turning around and moving back onto the idea of ponies.
That was the problem with me, it seemed I could not experience other happy thoughts. It seems that when I try to tell someone how I feel about life, they say that I am just overreacting, and that I am taking things for granted. Throughout the short fifteen years that I have dwelled on this earth, I have yet find true happiness. Yes, I have felt small spasms of joy here and there, especially when I received a gift from loved ones, but the true feeling of happiness never seemed to hit me. I had never lead a good life, but I tried to make the most of it. I attempt to not live in the past, but at some points, I find it hard not to. Whenever you were kidnapped and molested by a man you don’t even know that kind of tends to stick with you. I never let these thoughts get to me, but they still made me sad. However this year seemed to poke at the sad part of my brain, as everything that could go wrong, did. The girlfriend that I had loved with every fiber of my tender soul had left me for another guy, one who did not weigh two hundred and fifty pounds at fifteen. The thought of this pained my heart constantly, knowing full well she left me because I was chubby. Inside of my will, I wanted to become skinny. Inside the state I was in, I thought that if I became less... Well, just less, maybe my life would be a little easier to live. Laughing at my ignorance everytime this thought went through my mind, I shook it away and attempted to live my life as happy as I could make myself.
That is, until my big brother died. My brother... he was an amazing sight. He was perfect in just about every way, from looks to personality. He was the type of person you wanted to talk to, the type of person you wanted to share your feelings with. I was not the only person to think this apparently, as every person in my family treated him as the better brother, and rather ignored me. I was okay with this fact though, as long as I had the honor to call him my big brother. We talked about everything together, from baseball, to My Little Pony. My brother was the person who introduced me to the show. That was a week after my girlfriend destroyed my heart. The happiness it brought me could not be explained in words, and the gratitude I had for him was beyond measure. I loved him, with all of my heart. Until the car crash.
I shifted on my mattress, my heart experiencing pain like no other. My mind was not on ponies anymore... it was on my big brother. Grasping my heart with my right hand, I rolled over onto my back, and looked up at the ceiling. The scene of his death unfolded in my mind, and I recalled every single detail of every second. The pain this brought me was so unbearable that I closed my eyes, but the scene would not evaporate.
“Go faster!” I screamed this at the top of my lungs towards my brother, who was driving the family car. I could see on the dash that we were already going at Ninety miles per hour. I was feeling the need for speed, and I knew it. Much to my brother’s laughter, I put my seat belt on, while he kept his off. Instead of putting it on, My brother moved his head towards me while laughing and said,
“Alright little bro. Hold on tight!” The moment he said this, I could see him put the petal to the floor, and the car reacted with ferocity, causing us to shoot down the highway with great speed.It looked as if god had spilt grey paint across the sky, with cotton balls spread everywhere, plus the fact that It was a Sunday afternoon, so the roads were always clear. Everyone was either in church or enjoying the day off, so why not cruise down the roads? The distant sound of thunder sounded every so often, causing me to get scared whenever it did. I have always had a phobia of lightning, and where there is thunder, lightning is not far behind. I turned my head towards my brother, who had his attention on the road. Even though his gaze was not on me, I felt safe again, as if the thunder could not hurt me whenever he was near. Looking outside my window, I looked at a power line that trailed through a forest of trees. My eyes started to move with the lines, as if we were now connected. It seemed silly at first, but it looked as if the power lines were racing us, moving as fast as our car was going. It turned into a game for me, as I started racing the lines. Of course, I would win whenever we passed the cable tower, but a new one was right past it, and the game began anew. Keeping my eyes on the power line, I did not pay attention to the sound of lightning that came over us. Why be scared whenever I had my big brother with me?
At that moment, I realized how wrong I was. The power line that I was racing with must of been a sore loser, as speeding down the road, a flash of light hit it, and it burst into flames. In the distance, the cable tower that it connected to started to fall from the lack of support the power line gave it, collapsing on the road. I could hear my brother shout something that sounded like a curse word, but the panic that coursed through my body withheld me from understanding it. I quickly turned my head towards my brother, looking for the confidence that he possessed to get us out of the danger that was on the road. Much to my dismay, his look of terror was painted on his face, causing my heart to stop. If my brother was scared, what hope did we have?
Thankfully, my brother knew what he was doing, and swerved out of the way of the cable tower, avoiding our doom. As quickly as my panic left, it returned. For when we swerved off of the road, we were met by a monstrous eighteen wheeler. The last thought that went through my mind was,
“We are going to die!’’ as quickly as I thought this, it disappeared. The collision that we experienced in the car quickly knocked the life out of me, and I felt into the deepest sleep that I thought I could still feel.
I awoke in a complete daze, not remembering where I was, or what had just occurred. I could feel someone touching my body with rough hands, and I was instantly reminded of the man who molested me. With the small bit of strength I had left in my exhausted body, I started to swing my arms at whoever was touching me. My hand connected with what I thought was his face, which I quickly regretted. As soon as I did this, the hands went to my face, and an object was put over my mouth. At the thoughts that were flowing through my mind, I thought it was a gag. I tried to get away from the touch of the figure, but did not possess the strength. Within a few seconds, the object I thought was a gag started exhausting air into my mouth, which I gratefully accepted, my nerves calming down. After a few seconds, I slowly opened my eyes to see a woman in what looked like a blue suit with a red cross on her chest looking down at my body. Within my confusion, I tried to mouth out a few words, but the mask on my face prevented me from doing so. I slowly started to turn my head to see where I was, and what I saw made me wish I never came outside today. The eighteen wheeler which I now remembered that ran into us was on it’s side, laying in the grass, as if it was sleeping. Beside the eighteen wheeler was what looked like my brother’s car, which looked to have been flattened. Panic shot through my body, and I tried to jump up to run over to the car, to see if he was alright. The woman with the red cross held my body down, yelling into what looked like a radio. I tried to scream at the lady, but the mask once again stifled my words. Out of the corner of my eye, it looked as if two men with a long bed were running around me, and my confusion started to double. What were these people with crosses doing?
As soon as I asked this question in my mind, I felt my body rise off of the ground, and into the bed that they had carried over to me. That started to wrap black straps around me on the bed, and my panic returned to my body. I wanted to scream as loud as I could, so my brother would run over to me and save me from these people. As if the fates answered my request, at the corner of my vision, I saw what looked to be a mess of a body. Without me even thinking about it, I saw my brother’s shirt on the body, and the tears streamed down my face, knowing my brother’s fate.
The tears that just stopped over reading My little Dashie returned, but for the reason of my brother. The one who even showed me the magic of these ponies, the one who had been the protector of my life, was no longer in it. The shirt that I was wearing did not look a white shirt much longer. It must of looked like I got back from a water balloon fight with the amount of tears that was on my shirt. Rolling over to my chest, I cried into what was left of my pillow, and slowly gave in to the temptations of sleep.