Raining on the Outside
Rain. The gentle pitter patter of liquid dripping drop by drop into puddles fills the air in a cacophony of static sound that drowns out everything around you. You don't know when it started raining. Not that you cared. After all, if it was not raining in the outside world, it would still be raining in your heart. How foolish you were. Thinking that you could stop her. Stop her from being her. Stop her from being free. Stop her...To save her life.
The barrage of water drops soaked your mane and fur, though it honestly felt like it soaked much deeper. Deeper than muscle. Deeper than bone. Your very spirit was dampened to such an extent, you felt that if it were a towel or a blanket, you could wring it for days and yet not squeeze out all the moisture that now caused your once warm heart to go numb with cold.
She was your best friend and she knew it. Sure she'd push the boundaries of your practiced patience, and often stir you to anger almost as fast as a sonic rainboom, but still, she was always there for you. Hanging around, playing pranks, and telling stupid jokes that elicited undignified laughter for your lips. Rain. You couldn't help but see the irony of it all. In a morbid sense of humor, you smiled as the tears from heaven fell in the form of drops, splashing upon the ground of the freshly dug grave.
You remembered that day. That day when you told her no. She'd been excited that she could pull off a stunt that was so incredible, she swore that she'd be making Equestria history. Her name would live on in legend. The look on her face was one of a pony who could taste victory of the ultimate prize. Someone had to stand up and tell her it was just too dangerous. Some pony had to put her hoof down. And so you did. Fat lot of good that did.
As you stood there, rain pouring down your face, you blink the water out of your eyes. That's all it was. Water in your eyes. Water from her home, the clouds. You weren't crying. That wasn't you. Honest, faithful, trust worthy. Those were you. Emotional wasn't. You didn't cry, at least not on the outside. Any tears you had had dried long ago. You had to carry the weight of not just one pony, but of a small family when you just barely earned your cutie mark. You bowed your head in the rain, it's constant drizzle leaking down your face like a broken water facet that you never had time to fix. You remember how you got your cutie mark, and who you had to thank for it.
You two were connected on a level that seemed to transcend everything you understood about friendship. Even the term 'best friend' seemed watered down when you thought about how close you were. Watered down. The creators above were real poets, or just sick ponies to give rain at this time. Actually, it was just a scheduled rain storm the pegasi put up, but how it had to rain right now, where you were at, mimicking the sorrow of your heart. There it was again. Water. Pegasi. Clouds. Rain. The cruel joke wasn't lost upon you, as you let out a little chuckle. She would have thought this was funny.
You'd stormed off when she told you, in no uncertain terms, that she was going to preform her most magnificent trick, her magnum opus. Indeed, she made flying into her own unique art. As if the sky was a blank canvas, the clouds her paint and she herself was the brush. She had perfected her strokes, and now she was ready to paint her most incredible work for all the world in such a way, that even the deity of day and night had to acknowledge her. Not as a subject, but as equals. Or so she claimed. In your heart you knew she was nothing more than an over confident braggart. But that was just another reason why you liked her. Why she was your friend. Someone had to keep her in line, and your honesty was that.
The rain seemed to soften against your back as your mind was carried off with the memory of it all. You didn't even have a chance to speak to her again. You didn't bother going to the show. Remorse fills your mouth with that bitter taste that only agonizing regret can give as you think back. You should have been there. It might have made all the difference. You could have some how talked her out of it, thought you know in your aching heart that she'd never listen. She never did. Not until she learned her lesson. This time, there was no lesson to learn.
The cold wetness of the rain seemed to chill even more against your body as you recall the heart stopping moment when you heard the knock on the door and knew. You didn't need Captain Spitfire and Sourin there, carrying nothing but her goggles and grim looks of anguish. You didn't need to hear them stumble through an account of how the stunt went wrong. You didn't need to see your sister break down and weep while the two Wounderbolts stood awkwardly still. You knew. You knew, from the moment you walked away from that fight, that it was the last time you'd see her again.
The gentle water forced you to the ground as your heart crumbled, as you replayed the funeral in your mind. Even though you were there, even though you spoke, and told of how brash, and how courageous your friend was, no your best friend was, you can't remember a single word spoken. Faces weeping openly, sure, but no words. No words, or sounds, or anything other than grief filled faces. Your memory was blank.
And so you stood here. Long after the last pony gave their final respect, you stood still. That was hours ago. It had been raining for hours, mimicking the very feelings of your soul. And so you stayed, feeling water pour down your cheeks. As you lay there, the cold starts to give way to a new sensation that stirs you from your painful reverie. You feel the warmth of the sun rays upon your back, the slow seeping feeling causing you to lift your head to see blessed sun smiling down, as if to remind you that your life didn't end here. Just hers.
You blinked. The clouds cleared. Yet, there was still water dripping down your face. With an anguish howl, you cry for your best friend.