When Laughter Leaves...
Time slows down when you get bad news.
It stops completely when that bad news is about one of your closest friends.
We're sitting here in the hospital room, watching, waiting, hoping against hope that she'll wake up. She's been in a coma for two weeks...ever since they brought her in all but dead. She is just laying there, silent, still, the only sign of life being the steady, although very slow, beep of the heart monitor. The oxygen machine she's connected to slowly and steadily pumps air into her lungs...its the only reason she's not gone yet. She stopped breathing on her own nearly 48 hours ago.
The doctors say she's slipping away a little more with each passing hour, and it won't be much longer before even the oxygen machine can't keep her alive. We don't want to believe it.
Fluttershy is sobbing violently in Rarity's embrace, drenching her coat in tears of agony and sorrow, begging between wails for the still figure in the bed to wake up.
Rarity is also sobbing, her tears dripping from her muzzle onto Fluttershy's head, gathering enough breath now and then to plead in whispers for our friend to awaken and be well.
Rainbow Dash, usually the toughest among us, is standing by the window, looking out, body heaving with the sobs she's trying, and failing, to keep to a minimum.
Applejack, whom I have never seen cry, is crying now, tears running silently down her muzzle. She's not even trying to hide them. Her Stetson is pushed back far enough to threaten falling off, but she doesn't seem to notice.
As for me...I look toward the bed, blinded by a rush of fresh hot tears, my heart twisting and writhing within me in complete agony.
How could this happen?
Why did it have to happen?
Pinkie Pie. No.
She was our source of laughter, encouragement, and happiness.
She was our ray of sunlight when all we could see was darkness.
She made us laugh when we didn't think anything could.
Her parties, her laughter, her randomness, her...her Pinkieness was what gave us what we needed to keep going through good and bad days. She had taught us to giggle at the ghostly, to crack up at the creepy...to scare off our worst fears with a bright smile.
And we were losing her.
We didn't want to. We dreamed every night that she was ok. That she'd woken up. That we had Laughter back. But then...we woke up, and it wasn't true.
Life was so unfair sometimes. All we wanted was for her to be ok, yet here we were, watching her slowly fade from us. Our hearts were shattering into a thousand tiny fragments, the pain unbearable.
Why?
Just...why?
We can't lose her. We won't lose her. I won't let it happen.
My anger bubbles up to the surface, pushing through the sorrow, causing me to yell in furious agony. The others look at me as I bury my head in my hooves and start crying in earnest. I can feel forelegs going around me in a hug, and find enough energy to look up.
It's Rainbow Dash. I bury my muzzle against her and shake with uncontrollable sobs. I can feel her patting me, trying to offer some semblance of comfort even as she herself is hurting.
The steady beep of the monitor slows further, and we all look toward it. Pinkie's heart is slowing to an almost imperceptible rate. Its at this moment we all look to one another and shudder as our last ounce of denial slips away and we come to terms with the ugly, painful truth.
She isn't going to wake up again.
We're going to lose her for good.
The oxygen machine starts working double time, Pinkie's body apparently beginning to refuse what oxygen its already pumping into her. Her heart rate drops even lower, the beats coming through even further apart, and we know it won't be long now.
Fluttershy's sobs increase, as do Rarity's. Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and I move to stand by the bed, as if somehow we can offer her our friendship and comfort even as she passes. We don't even know if she's been aware of our presence the entire two weeks. But it doesn't matter.
As we watch her, tears pouring from our eyes, I start thinking back to all my favourite memories of her. From their expressions, I know the others are doing the same. And then, we all start to share.
We talk about all her silliness. All her parties. The time we threw a birthday party for her and she thought we were throwing her out of our circle of friends.
The first adventure we had had on my arrival in Ponyville...the one where she'd taught us all how to laugh our fears away.
The times she'd thrown us parties for our birthdays, or one of her special 'just because' parties.
The time she'd cloned herself and nearly driven everypony crazy. That one brings bittersweet smiles to our faces in spite of our sorrow.
As we share our stories, the heart monitor slowly ceases its beeping. Then, it gives a long, shrill beep, alerting us that Pinkie's big and happy heart has stopped...and we look at Pinkie's face. She is wearing a small smile, and looks happy.
We all start crying loudly then, and Fluttershy gives a wail. We group together in a massive hug, holding each other tight as we sob, our shattered and bleeding hearts throbbing painfully in our chests.
None of us pays attention to the nurse shutting off the machines. We care only about trying to comfort each other in the face of losing our friend.
Our family member.
Our ray of sun in the darkest of nights.
As one, we break apart and turn, making our way to the bed. We group around it, then gather into a hug once more, this time including the still and peaceful friend we have just lost.
We weep bitterly, yet even as we do, we all feel a small ray of hope spark within us. Because we know that one of these days, when our times come, we'll see her again.
We will once again be reunited with our friend. Our family member.
Our Laughter.