We Left a Light On

by Thunderbug80

We Left a Light On

A faint noise sounds just outside the bedroom window, and Applejack swivels her ears for a better listen. She closes her eyes and concentrates for several minutes, but all she can hear is a faint ringing within her ears.

Or perhaps it is just her imagination. A pony's mind can play tricks on her when embraced by silence and shadow.

She listens for a moment longer before throwing back the blankets and hopping out of bed. The sound of her hooves as they strike the hardwood floor startles her momentarily, but she refocuses herself and continues, if perhaps a little more quietly, through the shadows leading to the window. She places her forelegs upon the sill and pulls the curtain aside with her mouth so that she may see what lies beyond.

In the orchard below, each leaf, branch, and blade of grass is bathed in silver highlights from the moon high above. She stares at the shadows at the foot of the forest, the dark corners of the barn, and even up to the sky, looking for movement of any kind. A gentle gust of air blows in through the window screen to caress Applejack's face in its warmth, and she lingers for a moment before moving away from the window. There is nothing out there to be afraid of.

Yet her heart beats rapidly within her chest.

Applejack eyes her bed longingly, but turns away and heads to the bedroom door. She reaches up and carefully turns the doorknob, careful not to make any noise. It takes a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the deeper darkness in the hallway. To her right, further down the hall, is her brother's bedroom, but she turns instead to her left towards the stairs leading down to the family room. Her hoof hovers above the first stair, but soon lowers as she takes a step.

The creak that follows is loud enough to send the hairs of her back on end, and she freezes, heart racing, as she listens for any sign of movement within the house.

The grandfather clock ticking away downstairs is the only sound to be heard. Its constant clacking makes it difficult to tell whether or not any other noises are being masked by it, but Applejack can see the downstairs window from where she is standing, and through it is a comforting sight.

A light has been left on outside. That light means safety. Security.

She knows that at her age she shouldn't be getting worked up over little things, but her mind just isn't listening to reason right now. There is something about this night that seems off, as if some horrible aura of wrongness has descended around the house. She can feel it just beneath her skin, and in the way that every shadow seems to press in on her, weighing her down. A part of her wants to run back to her bedroom and hide under the blankets until morning, when she'll be able to see that there is, in fact, nothing wrong, and that the only things that matter are a hearty breakfast and getting the morning chores done.

She takes another step. Then another.

The family room isn't any different than it is on any other night. Two chairs and a small sofa are gathered around a rectangular table. A photo album lies open upon the table, displaying photos of her and Big Macintosh when they were smaller. There are even a few photos of Apple Bloom. Near the staircase, next to a bookshelf, is the grandfather clock. Its heavy pendulum swings back and forth, counting down the seconds until midnight. Applejack knows she shouldn't be up and wandering around the house at this hour, but sleep is not an option right now. She leaves the family room and enters the kitchen.

It is darker here than the room she was just in. The light from just outside the front door doesn't reach this far, and there is a moment when she swears she sees a shadow move like a serpent just over by the stove. She isn't certain, though. It was a suggestion of movement, but that is all it takes to set her on edge once again. She doesn't turn on any more lights, though. The one outside the front door is enough, and any more might wake somepony up. She doesn't want to have to explain herself to her brother, and she certainly doesn't want to wake Apple Bloom up.

Her eyes adjust once more, and she sees now that the 'serpent' is just a tea kettle. She's certain that she saw the curved handle move, but it doesn't matter now. She walks through the kitchen to the back door and takes a look outside. The wind has picked up a bit, and she hears the leaves swaying in the trees as it blows through them. A plow has been left out in the field, ready for tomorrow's chores. Perhaps Big Mac will use it again tomorrow. Her eyes wander to a small pile of baskets, several of which have been blown over by the wind. No doubt she will be bucking apples again. If she can ever get to sleep, that is.

With a small yawn, Applejack walks back through the kitchen and into the family room. It's just silly to think that there's anything to worry about. Her brother and sister are fast asleep, a light has been left on outside, and here she is pacing around like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. She makes her way to the stairs and is just about to climb the first step when the grandfather clock emits a loud series of deep, thunderous gongs.

When the sound of the final gong fades, she forces her knees to stop shaking long enough to turn around and stare at the clock. The hands show that it is a minute past midnight. It is later than it should be. Much later.

Applejack quietly trots to the front window, where she perches her forelegs upon the sill and peers outside. There is nothing out of the ordinary to be seen out there. A set of her boots sits just outside of the front door, having been left there to keep the family room floor clean. Beside them is a small length of rope left out from lasso practice earlier in the day. Near the fence outside is a discarded hammer and a bucket of nails from when Big Mac was helping to mend the gate. Everything is exactly as it was left earlier in the day.

Despite her best efforts, Applejack cannot see any movement outside. She hears nothing out of the ordinary. No hoofsteps, no twigs snapping. The silence disturbs her. There should be noise out there, and it should be drawing nearer to the farmhouse. She listens again, ears swiveling to take in even the smallest sound, but she hears nothing over the wind and the ticking of the clock.

She leaves the window behind and carefully climbs to the top of the stairs. There she waits, staring through the shadows down the hall at the door to her brother's room. Big Macintosh won't appreciate being woken up for nothing, but Applejack isn't so sure that it is nothing. A growing part of her wants to wake him up and tell him about her fears, but the realistic part of her knows that she should leave him be and deal with it herself. In all likelihood there is nothing wrong, but she feels alone and vulnerable. She slinks back down the stairs and lies down in front of the grandfather clock. The pendulum swings and her eyes follow.

..o0o..

The big hand strikes twelve, and a single gong announces that the time is one in the morning.

Applejack rubs her eyes and stares at the clock face in disbelief. It can not possibly be one in the morning. She would have been warned if it was going to be one in the morning. She closes her eyes and wills it to be a dream, but when she opens them the time has not changed. A knot forms in her throat, and it takes a moment before she remembers to breathe again.

She trots to the front window and glances outside. A moment later she goes through the kitchen to the back door and looks out at the backyard. Her heart trembles, and she hastily leaves the kitchen and goes to the foot of the stairs where she sits down and stares up into the dark above. Her breathing quickens and she hesitates, unable to decide if she should rush up to her room and into bed or huddle down and lie as still as she can.

They left a light on. Nothing should have gone wrong.

But she is alone. She knows this. She can feel it. Everything is exactly as it was when she went upstairs to bed earlier this night, but nothing is the same. There is no way it can be one in the morning; she would have been told ahead of time. She backs away from the stairs and lets out a small scream as she bumps into the table, knocking the photo album to the floor. She turns in a circle, shrinking away from the emptiness that surrounds her. A photo of herself as a foal catches her eye. She knows that she will never be that young and innocent again. Not after tonight.

She turns to head back into the kitchen again, but she stops suddenly, one hoof hovering just off the ground, and twitches her ears. She slowly turns back around and stares at the front door.

She hears it again.

There is noise outside, and it is coming nearer to the farmhouse. There is no doubt about it this time. She is absolutely certain she heard it, and it is coming.

A compelling force draws her closer to the door, where she sits on her haunches and waits. The light from outside can be seen in the thin space between the door and the floor, and she allows it to comfort her. A light was left on, and that means safety and security. She listens as the noise comes closer. It will soon be at the front door.

A noise behind Applejack startles her, and she turns to see her brother at the foot of the stairs. He gives her a slight look of disapproval, but says nothing. She knows he has heard the noise too, and has come down to be at the front door with her. He joins her and they wait together. The noise outside draws closer, and the light beneath the door becomes distorted by several shadows.

A smile forms on Applejack's face as she anticipates the door opening. It disappears in the next moment as several loud knocks sound at the front door instead.

She and Big Mac stare at the door, eyes wide, mouths slightly open.

Another series of loud knocks sound at the door.

Applejack turns to look at her brother, but her vision is blurred as several tears fall in rapid succession. She tries to breathe, but the knot has returned to her throat. Her lower lip trembles. Her legs shake. Her heart aches. Big Mac closes his eyes and breathes slowly through his nostrils. He turns and offers her a sad smile, then slowly walks to the front door.

There should not have been any knocks. Applejack was feeling relieved a moment ago, but the door should have just opened. There should not have been any knocks.

She was right after all. A light was left on but it didn't matter. Everything has changed.

She backs away slowly as her brother opens the door. There is somepony in a uniform standing there. Beside him is Granny Smith. Her eyes are red and weary, and she looks as if she has just aged another ten years. In that moment, Applejack realizes that she has just aged, too. She looks back over at the picture that had fallen to the floor of herself as a foal.

She was right about that, too. She will never again be that young and innocent. Not after tonight.

As her brother breaks down in tears at the front door and is embraced by Granny Smith, Applejack wipes her own eyes with the back of a hoof and takes another step back. She can't handle this. This is too much for her to take in.

Granny Smith peeks inside and spots her, but she turns around and flees upstairs as fast as her hooves can take her. She hears Granny make to follow, but she refuses to confront this right now.

Once inside her bedroom, Applejack slams the door shut and leaps into bed, pulling the covers over her head. She lies there, openly weeping. Her mind wanders to the plow that was left in the field outside, and how her brother will have to do the plowing after all. She then thinks about her own workload, and how it has suddenly more than doubled. How will they manage to keep up? Will Granny be moving in?

She is broken from her thoughts by crying coming from the room at the end of the hall. The sound sobers her immediately as she thinks of the consequences of what has happened this night. She won't be the only one to be affected by this. She leaps out of bed and walks down the hall through the shadows to the door at the end. She opens the door and enters her parents' bedroom.

Inside, Apple Bloom is crying in her crib. Applejack's heart breaks. Her baby sister won't even understand what has happened tonight for several more years at least, if at all. She feels tears forming again, but she wipes them away. She has to be strong for her sister. She looks down at little Apple Bloom. She will have to be protected from the many dangers of Equestria, and that protection can only be provided by Applejack. A light is just a light. It offers no protection. No security. Not after this night.

She reaches into the crib, and as she gently strokes her sister's bright red mane, she sings a lullaby similar to one her mother used to sing to her.

"Hush now, little sister, our folks send us their love,

Whenever you feel lonely, look to the stars above,

I know I can't replace them, but I'll give it a try,

And I will be here for you, until the day I die."

The End

Author's Note:

For additional insight into this story, please click here.

Enjoy this tale? Why not give Allure a read?

Comments

[Walabio]

¡Sad!

[Mystiknight]

You twisted that ending real nice. Loved it.

[Thunderbug80]

6477455 Thank you very much for reading.

[i_am_the_jam]

[aplauso]

[ShiningNova]

I wasn't sure exactly where this train was headed but I stayed on board all the way to feelsville.

I really liked the song at the end. Despite it being really sad.

[Slavenger Karl]

Oh, it's the manfiestation of mlpforums.com/uploads/post_images/img-3730531-1-bPiuvZd.png

...Bad joke to brigthen up the mood.

[Piecemeal Pony]

What? No! I-I'm not crying! It's just the rain, I s-swear...

[JakIsABrony]

Oh Slorg why must you break my heart so

[Hillbe]

Ma & Pa is that you?
I made them breakfast
Sweetie Belle!

[Vivid Syntax]

Even though I knew what was going on by about the seventh paragraph, I'm glad I read it. You executed it very well. The end felt a little rushed – I was surprised AJ went from grief to big sister so quickly given the circumstances – but other than that, there was great atmosphere throughout. Nicely done.

[ReenBeen]

Man, this is feels attack extreme. Well done, specially with such a heavy subject. *applause*

[Waterfire]

I confess this feels rather formulaic. There so many short, feelsy fics which follow this same structure: telling us very little at the beginning to force uncertainty, and then rushing to reveal what's going on at the end. It's gotten to the point of feeling forced and almost cheap for me.

[Thunderbug80]

6787539 Can you offer up some suggestions on how it can be improved?

We're going on the sixth year of pony fiction. If you've been reading since the beginning, I imagine you've seen just about everything. Every once in a blue moon I'll see a truly unique story get written, or I'll endeavor to write one of my own. For the most part, however, "It's been done before."

What were you expecting out of this story? I'm truly interested to hear. It has the Sad tag on it, so having a twist at the end isn't all that much of a surprise. You can see there is a small word count, so you also go into it knowing that a conclusion must be reached quickly.

It's formulaic for a reason. The small word count plus the sad tag means there is a need for a swift hit to the feels before the ultimate resolution. There is little room for variation here.

If these kinds of stories are getting stale for you, it may be time to give them a pass. I can see that you did not leave a down vote, and I appreciate that. You've done precisely what I would do in your situation: no votes, but leave a comment explaining how I felt about the story. If you do know of a way for this story to be improved (besides making it longer, as I wanted a short story this time), please let me know. I'm always looking for ways to improve, and I'm certainly open to any unique ideas for stories.

Cheers,
Slorgy

[Waterfire]

6787698 Simple. This sort of story works best when there's more time to let it sink in. Slow the pace down a bit.

[fanreader999999]

Mm