Stairway to Heaven

by Brolkier

Start from the top

Nurse Redheart helped me out of my bed. I had asked her to help me do something. Something I thought I might never get a chance to do again.

We walked out of the room, and she helped me make my way over to the top of the staircase. It looked so much taller now, than it did when I first came here. It was only a single flight of stairs, no more than 14 steps, but right now, it looked like it went on forever.

I sat down at the top of the staircase, and pulled out my favorite childhood toy, one last time. My slinky.

Nurse Redheart sat down next to me on the staircase. She knew why I wanted to come here, but she still had such a sad look on her face. I couldn't blame her, but she understood why I wanted to do it.

I took a moment to look over my slinky. Its metal coils, springy movement, and cool touch. All were things that seemed to sum up my life so well. I loved my slinky, and I knew it was time to play with it just once more.

I stood it up next to me on the stairs, making sure that it would have the proper momentum to continue down after I pushed it. I moved it back and forth a few times, before finally letting it go.

I watched as it started to make its way down the stairs, and as it took each step, I remembered a different part of my life.

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I was born into the loving hooves of a wonderful mother. She always told me that the way I bounced around so much while she held me as a foal, was what inspired her for my name. Spingy Step.

My mother loved me very much, and played with me at every opportunity she had. My father though, was never there that much for me.

My father spent his life working on the railroads of Equestria. He would go make repairs on tracks that needed them, and would even help in laying down new tracks, for destinations yet to be reached. He was always working late hours, and his job didn't bring him nearby home often. The few times when he did come home though, like when I first met him, were never that pleasant.

The stress of working long hours, and back braking labor, made my father a very bitter stallion. The first time I ever saw him, I lifted my tiny hooves up to him, thinking he might pick me up, and hold me gently. Instead, he passed me by like I didn't exist, and nearly hit me when he tossed off his horseshoes that he wore when working.

My mother had greeted him when he came in, and tried to tell him about his little foal, but he was too tired and cranky to listen to her, and instead collapsed on his bed. My mother tried to bring me over to him, but he shut the door behind himself, thus starting the pattern that I would come to recognize from him in my life.

My childhood growing up was that of a normal filly. I would go to school, play with my friends, and help my mother out around the house. I always enjoyed every bit of it, and never wanted those days to end.

I remember the proudest day of my life, was the day I got my cutie mark. My mother was trying to take some boxes out of the attic one day, and had asked me to help her. She would lower down a box, and I would take it from her, and set it on the ground. One box however, proved to be a bit too heavy for me, and when I went to grab it, I could feel it begin to teeter out of my grasp.

I stumbled back a few feet, getting awfully close to the top of the stairs, and the box crashed next to me, its contents flying out. My mother called down to ask if I was alright, and I called back to her as I began to open my eyes. What I saw though, when I opened them, was the most amazing sight of my life.

One of the things that had fallen out of the box, was a big metal spring. I watched as it waved back and forth at the top of the stairs, acting like it was going to fall down them at any second. I reached out with my hoof, trying to grab it, but accidentally ended up giving it just the push it needed to fall.

I scooted up to the edge of the stairs, and watched it as it fell down the steps, end over end, seemingly effortless. It took each step one at a time, pausing slightly between each step, before continuing forward again. I was mesmerized by it.

My mother came down to make sure I was alright, and was met by the blissful smile I had on my face. She looked on, as I continued to watch the spring go down the stairs, only to see my face turn sad, when the spring stopped at the bottom.

Tears began to form in my eyes, since I didn't know why such a wonderful thing had stopped moving. As I began to sniffle, my mother made her way down the stairs, and retrieved the spring, bringing it back up to me.

"This is called a slinky, Springy." She said to me, as she placed it next to me at the top of the stairs.

I stared at the slinky, as I repeated its name aloud. I then lifted the top of it up, swaying it back and forth, like it had done before I pushed it, and then pushed it down the stairs again. It did the same thing it had done before, going down each step, end over end, before coming to a rest at the bottom.

This time, I ran down the stairs to retrieve it, and brought it back to the top. I set it up again, and pushed it down again.

My mother watched me, a smile on her face, as I continued to play with the slinky on the stairs. After about the third or forth time of sending the slinky down the stairs, my mother stopped me at the top, as I was about to go retrieve it once again. She told me to look at my flank, and that's when I saw it, my cutie mark.

On my flank, was the image of a slinky, as if it was making its way down an imaginary step. I was ecstatic. I looked up at my mother, a huge smile on my face, before leaping into her hooves, giving her a hug.

She told me how proud she was that I finally found my special talent, and how it seemed to symbolize me so much. She said it represented that no matter how many steps I would face in life, that I would take them one at a time, and enjoy them.

It was something that I took to heart, and strove my best to live as in my life. No matter what life would throw at me, I would take it one step at a time, and overcome it.