> Ashes to Ashes, We All Fall Down > by Normal > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Prologue: Make It Stop! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nothing holds down a balloon, light and free. In fact, it fights for that freedom, longing for the skies and nothing else will suffice. The same is not true for the ponies of the long gone Equestria. Too much grounds us, even those of us able to take flight. Thump, thump. Once ponies asked themselves if a tree alone in a forest still makes a noise as it falls. I am not a thoughtful philosopher, not in profession or hobby, so this I will never be able to answer. But I know as I fell, alone, only one sound could reach my ears. Thump, thump. The wind rushing past me was too loud to hear anything else. If a tree could hear, is that what they would experience too? How can the wind, a noiseless entity, be so loud? It’s screaming now. I can hear a piercing sound that is unmistakable. A pony’s shriek of fear. Funny how death makes things so familiar. Thump, thump. That’s not the wind screaming. Th-thump, th-thump. It’s me. Come on everypony, smile, smile, smile. That’s what Auntie Pinkie said whenever we got too tired. It wasn’t until I was too old to help that I noticed she never followed her own advice. Well, Auntie, soon we will all be smiling together, truly and thoroughly. Just like old times. Pinkie Pie and Pumpkin…They were always there in my earliest memories. We were inseparable, not that that says much. We were too young to say anything about each other’s company. Our parents too…they were there. Around the edges of my memory I could just catch a fleeting glance. The ground was close, but shouldn’t it be closer? Why am I not dead yet, has time slowed down for me… I don’t care anymore. Even if time itself tried to pull me away, there would be no point. All there is left for me is to close my eyes… There were blocks in front of me, little wooden numbers that featured colorfully painted letters. “Now Pound Cake, we don’t pound things, ok?” Was this…I guess your memory really does flash before your eyes in your final moments. I had to be young here. I don’t even remember those blocks. Chubby little hooves reached out, I must have still been a baby at this point, and forcibly, well, pounded those blocks. They flew everywhere with a clatter. And then it was all gone, wiped as blank as it was before. I was older now, that I knew. I could feel it. This memory felt more real than the last… I couldn’t tell how old I was but certainly older, of that there was no doubt. Mom stood behind me a tired smile, though despite the ache behind it, it was more real than any I have seen in a decade. The bathroom…that’s where we were. The last I saw was the swirl of paste on my tooth brush before that memory ran off too. Nothing could last forever. I laugh inside my own head and my doppleganger self does so too, only loud and clear for all to hear…I guess this was really me though, as yet another memory started. Pinkie Pie was here, smiling like I’ve never seen before. I never believed that she could be the element of laughter but seeing this made me wonder. A card flew right at my face, blinding me temporarily. Cute-ceanera, it read. “C’mon, Pound! These invitations won’t hand themselves out you know.” My sister’s haunches bumped into mine. In fact, if I wasn’t quite mistaken, I’d have to say they were her freshly marked haunches. How could this memory gotten so lost “How come your cutie mark came first anyways?!” Oh no, this is why it was buried, “We’re the same age! We should have both gotten are cutie marks!” The voice in my memory rose to the screech of an unsatisfied child, “It’s not fair!” It’s not fair…I wish I could have shown myself how unfair life could truly be when it tried, really and truly tried. Life was behind me now. Unfair may be unfair but why should I care? The memory was getting worse. My sister had replied to my childish and irrational whines as any child should and being a hot tempered little snot…well… “Hey, you pushed me! I’m telling mom!” I ran off, not think, and still carrying the basket of invitations on my back. When would the memories stop, everything I lost, coming back to haunt me…What sort of crazed punishment is this?! When would the pain end…I wanted it all to end! That’s why I jumped! Make it stop! Make it stop! I can't scream for this any louder! Oh, no...please not this. Please, please please... This memory was unmistakable...It haunted me, day in and day out. So many sleepless nights were spent over this one memory. I ask for an end and I got one. Just not the kind I wanted. This was The End, capital letters as dictated by all adults. Nothing could top it, they said, and so it should not be forgotten. It is important to remember those we lost, they also said. They seemed to think that kept the dead alive. What they don't say is how impossible it is to forget. This memory is complete in all the senses. Smell, the air is so thick, its laced with an acidic tang that I only connected with rotten eggs. Taste, that very same as the smell but as a coating of slime that would never leave. Sound...best not thought about. The screams of the dying are unlike even the screech of a spoiled child. There is something in them that bleeds out into the air.Sight, everything was dark, at first. But then the fires started and unicorns started using their horns. That's when the bodies were revealed...