What would you do, if you were told there was nothing you could do?
No pony deserves this news, not from a regular check-up. Certainly not Miss Cheerilee. But when she's told she has a week to live... what will she do? How will she tell her family, her students?
Cheerilee did not like the little Ponyville medical clinic. She never had, and she never would. It wasn’t that specific location, it was more… medical services in general. While Ponyville’s had been the most personal and caring experience she’d ever had, it still felt too, well, clinical. The white, featureless walls, devoid of anything but anatomical diagrams, that were carefully selected to provide a calm, inoffensive feel to the facility instead felt lifeless, sad, and draining. The filtered lighting that changed the yellowed sunlight into pure white light didn’t feel relaxing, it felt stifling, constricting. The air in the clinic, magically filtered of any potential allergens or bacteria that could harm the patients or cause them the slightest discomfort, was causing the reddish-purple mare discomfort. It tasted bitter, cold. The term manufactured came to her mind. Despite being her bi-annual check-up, Cheerilee wanted out of the clinic and into the open air of the sunny Sunday afternoon as soon as possible. Her eyes wandered across the wall again, finding the clock. The simple, inoffensive clock, with two black hands indicating the hour and minute, and a long, slender, bright red hand moving smoothly in circles, once a minute passing each number. She had been alone in the office for twenty-six minutes, far longer than she had ever been left alone before. Or so she thought, at least, Cheerilee had never made a point of keeping track of the time in the doctor’s office. Not until today, at least. She had arbitrarily glanced at it on the way in, and for some reason, the time had stuck in her mind. Now, twenty-six minutes later, after a blood sample and a brief height and weight check, she began to wonder what was taking so long, why the nurse had not yet re-emerged into the plain white room.
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Nurse Tenderheart’s name was a blessing and a curse. While she was gifted at making her patients feel at home during their stay in the Ponyville clinic, and was considered to be one of the best and most loving mothers in town, having such a tender heart made her exceptionally poor at delivering bad news. Some called it unprofessional, her colleagues called it empathetic. Either way, given the one word printed on the three identical sheets of paper before her, these next few minutes would be unbearable for her or her patient.
Positive.
It wasn’t a bad word, on it’s own, not at all. In fact, it was a good word. It meant things were good, or beneficial. The irony of the word’s use in the medical world was something Nurse Tenderheart would never understand or get over. She dreaded the word, every time she saw it her heart broke. Now, for the third time in fifteen minutes, her heart lay in pieces as she wept onto her desk. She knew the test wasn’t completely accurate, which is why she had run it two more times. Now, given the same result three times over, there was a 98% chance of it being true. It seemed so unrealistic, this disease. It worked fast, had no external symptoms, and seemed to affect ponies at random, regardless of race, age, gender, anything. The idiocy and twisted lines of fate this disease brought did not change the end result, however.
The chubby pink earth mare looked at the papers again, and again, the only difference on them the timestamp, each approximately five minutes later than the last. She hated it, hated those papers, what they did to her, and what they meant for her patient. Some part of her knew the hate was irrational – these papers harbored no ill-will or malcontent against a pony at all, but perhaps that was why. The papers held no emotion. There was no feeling. They conveyed horrible news without a care in the world for how to say it gently, kindly, tenderly. They just said it.
What they said was that Cheerilee Punch, thirty-five years old, female, earth mare, occupation elementary school teacher, had less than seven days left to live.
Neither the first, nor the last, of many tear-stains on the papers appeared as Nurse Tenderheart picked them up and began the longest walk down the shortest hallway she ever remembered.
---
The door opened into the office. It opened slowly, Cheerilee noticed, much more slowly than she remembered it, almost as though the pink nurse was trying to decide whether or not to enter the room. She usually opened the door right up, with a smile and a declaration of “Well Miss Cheerilee, everything’s in order, you’re free to go now. Your insurance will cover the fee.”
That was not present today. Nurse Tenderheart squeezed into the room through as narrow an opening in the door as she could fit her pudgy form through, a trembling hoof holding three sheets of tear-stained paper, her makeup blotched and smeared where tears had recently carried it down her face. Her body seized once as she held in a sob. She was still only part way inside the room, refusing to meet her patient’s gaze. Cheerilee craned forward and began to trot across the room, simultaneously terrified and incredibly interested to know what had her nurse so worked up. Before she could cross the cold tiles, however, Nurse Tenderheart dropped the papers and slammed the door behind her, only barely holding back the tears long enough to whisper three words.
“I’m so sorry.”
Even more confused and scared than she had been a moment prior, Cheerilee bent down and picked up the papers and scanned down them. Her eyes locked on one word, the word that had her nurse reduced to a quivering wreck, that one word that was going to do the same to her.
Positive.
There was no sudden anguished cry heard for miles, no insane laughter at the denial of the situation, just immediate and total despair for the teacher. The insensitive documents fell from her hooves as she fell to the cold tile floor. The tears came readily and did not stop for some time, and she wept alone in the office, with no knowledge or care from the outside world aside from the occasional shadow of hooves that appeared on the other side of the door. Nopony interrupted her. She waited until the tears stopped flowing, rising unsteadily and approaching the door. Her hooves feebly attempted to turn the knob, and found herself curiously unable to grip it. Still sniffing, she wiped her eyes with a foreleg and knocked on the door. It was opened seconds later by Nurse Tenderheart, the pink mare’s face cleansed of makeup but not of tears, her trembling lips were evidence enough of that. The other mare guided the teacher to the front door of the clinic and opened it for her, pointedly avoiding her patient’s gaze for the duration of the journey, staring at the ground and covering her eyes with her mane.
“W-will… will you be-be able… to get ho-home alright, ma’am?”
Cheerilee nodded, screwing her eyes shut in an attempt to keep from openly weeping in the streets. Her face scrunched as she forced her mouth to stay closed and inhaled deeply through her nose, before turning and heading towards her home. For the first time in her nine years living in Ponyville, she found herself grateful she lived so close to the clinic.
Cheerilee arrived at home and trudged to the couch, throwing herself upon it and wailing into a pillow. She did not eat dinner that night, and her sister ignored her when she left for the evening and arrived in the morning.
Cheerilee awoke on the couch in the same position she had fallen onto it yesterday afternoon. Only now, it was Monday morning, and Cheerilee found herself in a very unfortunate situation – she needed to go to work, or, more accurately, to school. She didn’t feel much like getting up at all, in fact, she would have been content to merely lie there on the couch and do nothing until fate took her. However, given the fact that school would be starting in merely half an hour, and that it was far too late to cancel, Cheerilee dragged herself off the couch and out the front door, ignoring the need for breakfast and a shower. Her mane lacked it’s usual fluffiness, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and her stomach growled, but there was no time for the typical morning routine. She felt sick.
Trudging out her front door, she held her head low to the ground, pretending to stare intently at the dirt. By now she could find her way to the schoolhouse blindfolded, there was no need for her to look up. As her desire was to interact with other ponies as little as possible, at least until she arrived at school, she strove to test her schoolhouse finding abilities.
Taking momentary pleasure in having been successfully ignored on her way to the schoolhouse, Cheerilee pressed open the door, once again finding momentary pleasure in the fact that she had arrived at the schoolhouse prior to any of her students. This gave her a few moments to vainly figure out what she needed to say – but how…
Cheerily glumly made her way to her desk, the normally joyous and happy colors of the schoolhouse taunting her, mocking her every step towards the head of the classroom. The flowers sat on her desk screamed to her, “We are alive!” She frowned, the imagined teasing of the potted plants bringing sadness to anger, and she stopped herself a moment before smashing the flowerpot against a wall, instead opting to place it inside the large, bottom drawer of her desk. Let’s not waste any more of time I have left. We don’t need that. She remained seated in her desk, staring into space, thinking of nothing, wasting time until school began.
The bell rang for the first time. Cheerilee trudged from her desk to the door, to call the young fillies and colts into the classroom. She opened the door and tried to speak, to call the fillies, but nothing but a strangled squeak emerged from her throat. Her mouth clamped shut and her lips trembled, struggling to hold in tears. It seemed some student or another had noticed her standing in the doorframe, and she felt their little bodies brush past her legs as they filed into the classroom and continued their discussions, conversations, and games from outdoors. Cheerilee turned, seeing the foals at their desks, smiling, chatting idly.
What I wouldn’t give to live on solely for the joy I find in teaching. The teaching mare smiled weakly, happy to find herself returning from the verge of tears. Glancing about one last time, she turned to face the class. The first bell merely indicated it was time to head in; there was a slight gap between the little ponies being inside and class beginning about ten minutes later. Cheerilee herself had thought of this, to give them time to finish their conversations and calm down from running around outside. Her students loved it. Moreover, her students loved her – every single one of them was eager to learn, happy to return day after day to the care of the maroon teacher. They would… Cheerilee’s smile faded. They’ll be devastated. No, that’s not an accurate description of what they will experience. Pah, and they’ll probably be left in the hooves of Twilight Sparkle, at least until a full-time replacement can be found. Oh, I’m sure she’ll be a good teacher…
The second bell rang. The class almost immediately quieted, and the soft shuffling sound of a dozen foals retrieving their textbooks and homework from their schoolbags filled the room before a deafening silence.
“Uh, Miss Cheerilee?” A light yellow earth filly with a red mane and matching bow piped up from the front row. Applebloom was surprised, Cheerilee never wasted a second of the school day, packing in as much teaching as she could, making sure her student left knowing as much as they could about the day’s subject. Her not starting immediately with the bell was… disconcerting.
“Yes, Applebloom?” Cheerilee’s voice trembled slightly, but it didn’t seem that her students picked up on it.
“What page should we turn to?”
Cheerilee sighed heavily, the air catching in her throat for a moment as she looked at her desk.
“Why… why don’t you all put your books away. I have… an announcement to make.”
A slight murmur rumbled through the class as that light shuffling sound once again appeared as a dozen foals returned their work to their saddlebags.
“Is something wrong, Miss Cheerilee?” Once again, Applebloom spoke, her orange eyes wide with concern, and what even looked like… fear.
“I… I’m afraid something is wrong, very wrong. You… there’s going to be a su-substi-titue… for a long time…” Cheerilee’s voice began to falter, gaps and breaks in words, pauses between them, “and… and aft-ter the sub… y-you’re all go-going to have a di-different teacher…” Cheerilee practically sobbed the last few words, head hanging into her hooves, shoulders heaving as “practically sobbing” became simply “sobbing.” Applebloom gasped and looked to Sweetie Belle, the white unicorn filly’s eyes filled with confusion and fear. She didn’t know what her teacher meant, aside from the obvious – she would be leaving.
“Why, Miss Cheerilee?” Sweetie Belle’s voice cracked. Her voice cracks were adorable. Yes, that is what Cheerilee would miss the most about Sweetie Belle. The way her voice cracked. It was silly, yes, but it was something very memorable about the cute little filly.
“Because…” Cheerilee’s voice trailed off as it hissed out as nothing more than a squeak. She couldn’t say it, not out loud. She stood, slowly, looking at her students. There was a collective gasp as they noticed for the first time how awful she looked – their normally beautiful teacher looked like she hadn’t slept in a week. “Beautiful.” Yes, that was something else she’d miss – her students confessing crushes on her. It was adorable, but naturally, she had to deny them all. It had to be that way, but still, a little colt running up to her, blushing madly, shifting uncomfortably, before blurting out “I really like you!” or “You’re so pretty, Miss Cheerilee!” Such compliments were something she loved – when coming from a child, they were always complete, honest, genuine, there were no ulterior motives, possible other meanings, none of that.
She turned and picked up a piece of chalk in her hoof. Slowly, she began to write on the board, a single large letter at a time. She got through “I am” with no problem, but her hoof stopped obeying as she got partway though the “d.”
“I… am… what? You’re what, Miss Cheerilee? Are you pregnant? Is that why you have to leave?” This time it was the third cutie mark crusader, a little Pegasus named Scootaloo. She was older than when most Pegasi learned to fly, but she was so very determined to be the best she could be no matter what. Scootaloo had always had a special place in Cheerilee’s heart. She pushed herself farther, studied longer, and tried harder than any of the other students in her class. Cheerilee smiled.
“No… no, Scootaloo. I’m… I’m not pregnant. I just… I don’t… I can’t…” She turned back to her desk, incomplete chalk writing on the board, and rested her head on her forehooves, tears staining the calendar beneath her. A small hoof rested on her shoulder.
“Miss Cheerilee? If… if it’s so bad, will you whisper it to me? I can tell the rest of the class if you don’t want to,” the southern accent was instantly recognizable as Appleblooms. Cheerilee nodded her head, rubbing her face against her legs and desk, before lifting on leg to allow Applebloom audience.
“Applebloom… you sweet, adorable, brave thing… I… I’m sick. I’m very sick and… and I’m not going to get better, and there’s not a thing in the world that can change that. I… in a week, maybe less, you’ll have a new teacher.”
Applebloom recoiled, tears welling in her eyes in an instant.
“No! You’re lying! That’s not true! That can’t be true! You can’t… you’re not sick! Why would you joke about that?” Applebloom shrieked, the class’ collective confusion disappearing, leaving only the fear. Gasps gave way to cries, the students terrified that they would be losing someone so important to them.
“Applebloom!” Cheerilee’s voice quavered as she yelled, her voice much more intense than she’d intended. “I would never lie, or kid, or joke about this! I would never leave here of my own will! I’m going to die and you accuse me of lying? I… I love you all so much and I’m going to lose all of that… you’re going to lose me… I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry…” Cheerilee found her hooves had slammed down on her desk, and she was now actively screaming at her students. Spent and horrified at herself from her outburst, Cheerilee dropped from her desk. “You can a-all go ho-home. No cl-classes tod-today,” she choked out, turning and running out of the classroom.
---
Cheerilee sobbed against the tree that stood across the path from the school. Not only had her students accused her of lying, but she had screamed. At foals. For the first time, Cheerilee welcomed the news she wouldn’t be in this world much longer. She wished that, even now, it would take her. Forget the week she had left, she had just screamed at those who meant most to her, and those whom she meant the most to. A small voice broke her from her self-torture.
“Miss Cheerilee?” The southern accent. Applebloom. She would come out after her. “Miss Cheerilee… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I just… we don’t want to lose you, Miss Cheerilee! We all love you so much… I… we…” Applebloom trailed off, her voice drawing into a squeak. Cheerilee turned to look at the child, and found not just Applebloom, but in fact her entire class standing just a few feet away, most crying or on the verge of tears. Applebloom felt hooves wrap around her, pulling her into a hug. She found her face buried in her teacher’s chest, the soft purple fur trembling as the older mare held back her sobs. Without warning, more hooves appeared around the teacher, and a cacophony of “Don’t go, Miss Cheerilee,” “Please don’t leave,” or other forms of the phrase rose from the fillies and colts as they cried into their teacher.
“Hey, h-hey now… I don’t want to… I… I don’t want to go… I don’t want to leave…”
The following morning, Tuesday, found Cheerilee less distressed, even though she only knew every morning was liable to be her last. Yesterday had ended much better than it started, the foals (and Cheerilee herself) eventually calming down enough to return to the schoolhouse, and even get in a couple hours of learning. It wasn’t the joyous outpouring and sponging up of knowledge that the classroom usually saw for its daily inhabitants, but rather a somber, bittersweet affair. Cheerilee explained everything she could to them about her sickness, explained the possibility, however faint, that she might survive, but… her students took it with astounding bravery, listening intently even though the pain in their hearts was written all over their faces.
Several parents or siblings of her children had visited her that afternoon, before she had left the schoolhouse, claiming their filly or colt was making up ridiculous statements about how their teacher was sick and dying. All of them had the same reaction when she assured them their children were not spreading unjust rumors – tears, apologies, even an offer of companionship for her last few days. She declined them all, yesterday she had, at least. She had told her students to prepare for Tuesday as a regular class. I want today… to be as normal as possible. I want my last days to be as normal as possible.
Cheerilee arrived at the schoolhouse somewhat later than she normally did, but was surprised to see not one filly or colt outside on the playground or shuffling about by the door. She had glanced at the clock on the way out from her home today – the circular, floral-patterned, friendly device had claimed it was twelve minutes before eight. It took Cheerilee an average of seven minutes to get to the schoolhouse, and she figured she had been walking a little slower than normal, so it was likely very close to eight, when the first bell would ring, and when her students were supposed to go inside. Seconds before her hoof pressed open the schoolhouse doors, she heard the bell ring. It sounded harsh, angry, not like it sounded inside. Inside it sounded cheerful, signaling the beginning of a wonderful day of learning. Outside, however, it was the sound of fun ending, happiness fading. It hurt the teacher to know this is what it sounded like – how did it even sound like this? Can wood and glass change a noise that drastically?
Hearing the bell and seeing the lack of students, Cheerilee lowered her hoof from the door. There was no point in sitting alone in the classroom and wasting the day alone. She turned and lowered her head, a deep sigh escaping her as she made close observation of the dirt path before her. As she began to mope away, she heard a voice.
“She’s… leaving?”
Cheerilee’s ears perked up and her head swiveled around as it returned to a normal elevation, one eyebrow arching, her mouth forming a crooked, confused half-smile. She returned to the door and pushed it open, her mouth falling agape as she took in the sight before her.
There, before the first bell had even gone off, sat every student, already in their desks, hooves before them, eyes eager, ready to learn. A few students looked tired, some were clearly on the verge of tears, but her entire class was there. Cheerilee bit her lower lip to withhold it’s trembling, as tears began to form at the edges of her eyes.
“Good Morning, Miss Cheerilee!” Applebloom’s voice was unsteady. The little yellow filly’s bow sagged behind her head, the strangely emotive accessory betraying the smile she wore. “We thought that… if these are our last few days of school with you… we didn’t want to waste any time. So I talked to the other kids and we agreed to get here nice and early for you!” A toothy grin contrasted harshly with the sadness in her big, orange eyes.
“You… you did this…” Cheerilee looked around again, shocked that Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon had agreed to any plan concocted by the mind of the unfortunately still blank-flanked Applebloom. I… I'll never see the CMC get their marks… A sudden wave of sorrow rolled through the teacher, and she found herself unable to hold back the tears anymore. She stood in the doorway, shaking, crying, tears staining the wood under her hooves and rolling down her cheeks and chin.
A rapid tromping of hooves and the feeling of a warm, soft object against her leg.
“Come on, Miss Cheerilee, it’s ok. Page one hundred fifty-seven, right?”
---
An hour of teaching later, Miss Cheerilee decided to let her students have a small break. Today had honestly been one of the best days of her career – students who normally hung back were active and engaged, asking questions, offering what they at least thought were helpful comments. Best of all, teaching came so naturally to her, it gave her joy, it let her forget, forget what was going to happen.
“Alright, my little ponies, I think we’ve been doing well this morning. Why don’t we stop for a quick snack?” Cheerilee smiled, before moving down underneath her desk to snag the small water bottle and apple she had been storing for a midmorning snack if she needed it. When she brought her head above her desk, however, she was confused.
Instead of small snacks or lunch boxes, her students seemed to have… gift boxes of sorts. Different shapes, sizes, but all wrapped, or bound, or sealed with ribbon. As she wracked her brain for an explanation, Sweetie Belle spoke up. Her voice trembled and cracked as she formed a few tentative sentences.
“I… I told my sister about… about what you said… and she told me we had to do something for you, and I told Applebloom that… and she told the rest of the class… so we all… we all got you a present, Miss Cheerilee. So… so you never forget. So… so we never forget,” She bent down and grabbed the box on her desk in her teeth and dismounted her chair. The proportionally large box threw off the little filly’s stride, and she stumbled and shuffled her way towards her teacher’s desk. Setting the package on the wooden construct, she mumbled a quick, “I hope you like it,” and hurried back to her desk, head low, trying and failing to hold back her sobbing. As she sat back down, Scootaloo moved over to her, wrapping her short orange forelegs around her friend, allowing the diminutive white unicorn a shoulder to cry on.
Cheerilee tore her eyes from the sight, instead focusing on the white package in front of her. It was a plain white box, wrapped in dark purple satin ribbons. A small, light blue, calligraphic “R” adorned the corner nearest herself. A gift box from Carousel Boutique? Surely she didn’t… of course, her sister owns the Boutique. It must just be what she used to wrap it.
Cheerilee was wrong.
Inside the box was a dress. A beautiful, slim, black dress. Cheerilee pulled it out of the box, admiring the work. She couldn’t find a seam anywhere, it seemed almost as if the dress was sewn out of one continuous piece of cloth. The garment flowed smoothly around itself, almost as though blown in some ethereal wind. Almost like the Princess’ manes… All things accounted for, it was an unfathomably beautiful dress, and had probably cost more than Cheerilee would have made in six months.
“Sweetie Belle, I-”
“P-promise me?” Sweetie Belle pulled her face away from Scootaloo for just a second, her mane a mess as tears streamed down her face and onto her friend. “Prom-mise me you’ll w-wear it. J-just once…”
“I… I promise, Sweetie Belle. I will. Thank you.”
One by one, her students placed gifts on her desk, waited for her to open them, and returned to their desks. From Applebloom, two jars of Zap-Apple Jam, two of only ten the Apple family had magically preserved for their private uses in the off-season. From Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, a pair of silver earrings with fire rubies nestled in them. From Dinky Hooves, a dozen muffins. The gifts ranged from self-made food to the finest of hoof-crafted goods, but every one of them meant the same thing to Cheerilee – her students loved her, and she would be sorely missed.
---
The day proceeded fairly normally after that, even with the somber tone that pervaded the atmosphere. When the final bell rang, each student gave Miss Cheerilee a hug before shuffling out the door. Cheerilee had told her students to take tomorrow off, since she wanted to visit her family. Left alone in the classroom, Cheerilee began to pack the gifts away in her saddlebags. Managing to fit the last of the items in, she gently placed the paper, the piece of paper that had delivered the news, on top, and closed the bag. As she began to leave the classroom, a hoof knocked on the door.
Seeing as she was headed there anyway, she opened it. On the other side, she found Twilight Sparkle.
“Oh! Miss Sparkle. I was actually just going to look for you. I have a favor to ask,” Cheerilee began.
“Does this have anything to do with why your students looked so glum? They always look so happy when they leave,” Twilight said, before realizing the implications. “I-I-I mean they always seem like they’ve been so happy… no, that’s not it… I mean…”
Cheerilee laughed. A rich, genuine laugh, the likes of which she hadn’t had since the news. Twilight was such a nice mare, and she was pretty cute when she got flustered. “Oh, Twilight dear, I know what you mean. It’s ok…” the laughter died, and Cheerilee trailed off, her voice dropping from jovial to quite serious. The tone change scared Twilight – it was unexpected and a complete one-eighty of the teacher’s apparent mood. “However, yes, my favor does have to do with their glumness, as you put it. I… I was wondering… if you would be willing to be a substitute teacher for me.”
“Oh, I’d love to! So that’s why they’re all sad, huh? That they’re going to have a substitute. Those kids really love you. When do you need me for?”
“That’s… that’s the thing, Miss Sparkle… I’m not entirely sure when, and I don’t know for how long…”
“Oh, an unplanned vacation? Living life on the edge, I see. Don’t worry, I can cover it for you, for a few days at least. How long do think you might be gone for?”
“Twilight, I… you know what… I’m through beating around the bush,” Cheerilee said, a note of anger flaring in her voice, one Twilight could tell was not directed at her. Cheerilee reached around and unbuttoned her saddlebag, grabbing the paper with her teeth, and gesturing towards the unicorn before her. Twilight arched an eyebrow and took the paper with her magic, she began to quickly scan down the page, her eyes slowing as she realized what it was she was reading. Her magic flickered and failed as she read that word, that red-printed word that marked the end of the teacher’s life.
“Cheerilee… I… I don’t know what to say, other than ‘I’m sorry,’ but I know that doesn’t come anywhere near making it better. I just… how long?”
“Three more days at the very best,” Cheerilee replied, feeling strangely liberated. “Though I… it does me no good to be sad anymore. It is inevitable and I spent the last three days in an utter funk, wasting the time I have left. I’m not going to waste anymore time, Miss Sparkle.”
“Good for you, Miss Cheerilee. I’ll… I’ll handle the school as long as is necessary. It’s the least I can do,” Twilight said, smiling weakly at the teacher’s reassurance.
“Thank you, Twilight. I think I’ll be going home now. No, I will be going home now.”
Cheerilee awoke. She was surprised – she honestly hadn’t expected to. Today, then… Today I shall reconcile with my sister. We never quite saw eye to eye but… she’s my sister and I love her. I haven’t spoken with her since… since Sunday, either. She’s been gone when I got back each day… and I’ve left before she’s woken up… How… how did I not tell my own sister?
Cheerilee rose from her bed and slowly trotted to the door, focusing on as many of the little things as she could. The soft, plush feel of the cheap carpeting in her room, the slightly musky smell of unwashed fur, the birds chirping some melody outside. She noticed the slightly salty feeling on her cheeks – she had been crying in her sleep. She entered her bathroom, stepped to the tub, and turned on the shower. Steam filled the room as she washed herself down – a good, hot shower was almost as effective as a cup or two of coffee in the mornings. She focused on the shower, the water running over her body, the suds filling her mane, the feel of her hooves rubbing her scalp clean, knowing it may well be her last. Remaining in the shower far longer than necessary, Cheerilee eventually found she could no longer justify remaining in the impromptu sauna of her bathroom, and turned off the almost burning-hot water. Toweling off, she removed herself from the tub and began to brush her mane, enjoying and focusing on the feeling of the bristles against her scalp and neck. Finally exiting the warmth and humidity of her bathroom, the earth mare gradually made her way downstairs, idly brewing coffee and pouring herself a bowl of oats.
Not exactly my idea of an “unforgettable last breakfast,” but it will do.
Then again, Cheerilee considered herself a mare of simple pleasures – while not the grand, gigantic meal another pony might have prepared for herself, she was content with the easy food. Slowly chewing her way through the oats, she hoped her sister would wake before she finished. Unfortunately, Berry slumbered on, even after Cheerilee had washed her dishes. She settled back at the table, sipping idly at her lukewarm coffee. A small thud followed by a light knock at the door brought her to her senses. Opening the door, Cheerilee found it was Ponyville’s resident mailmare, a very pleasant Pegasus by the name of Miss Hooves.
“Hi there, Miss Cheerilee. Care for a muffin?” the gray Pegasus asked cheerfully.
“No thank you, Derpy. I’ve already eaten. You usually don’t knock… is something the matter?” Cheerilee replied, smiling softly. Derpy’s eyes had this strangely endearing yet unsettling quality about them – the fact that they were perpetually focused on two different points made it very difficult to tell where or what she was looking at, even standing right in front of her.
“As a matter of fact, Miss Cheerilee, there is. I’m so sorry,” Derpy said, quickly throwing her forehooves around the teacher, hugging her tightly. “You’re an amazing mare, a wonderful teacher, and I’m certain you would have been an excellent mother someday. If there’s anything I can do…”
“H-how did you know? I didn’t… didn’t tell anyone…”
Derpy pulled away. “I’m more perceptive than some might think. It’s the eyes,” she said with a wink. Upon Cheerilee’s confused expression, she laughed lightly. “I’m kidding. Dinky came home rather… distraught on Monday, and asked me to make muffins that night. Monday isn’t muffin night. She said she had to bring them to school for a project, but I thought that seemed silly, making muffins for a school project. It took some persuading, but I got her to tell me why she actually needed the muffins. I’m sorry, Cheerilee, I… I really can’t put it into words."
“It’s ok, Derpy. I know. You’re a wonderful, caring mare, you don’t have to tell me. Thank you. The muffins were delicious,” Cheerilee smiled as she finished her sentence. Derpy’s muffins were a rare treat, the mare usually ate them herself or with her family, but they were genuinely delicious.
“You’re welcome, Cheerilee. Do you want me to tell anypony for you…? Being a mailmare, being the bearer of bad news isn’t something I’m unfamiliar with…” Derpy hung her head, hoofing the ground dejectedly.
“That’s ok, I’m sure the foals will take care of it,” Cheerilee said, lifting the mare’s head with her own hoof. “Really, Derpy, the muffins were more than enough. Now go on, you still have a job to do, even if… even if I won’t, soon.”
The gray pony smiled, her eyes soft around the edges as she tried to hold in her tears, before turning and trotting down the road to the next house. Cheerilee waited a while to close the door, enjoying the breeze blowing over her face. When she turned to head back inside, she was startled to find her sister had somehow managed to get downstairs and pour herself a glass of wine without her noticing.
Ok, Cheerilee, you need to tell her, now’s the time.
“Berry, I-”
“Do you know why I drink, Cheers?” the wine-colored mare asked abruptly, not looking at her sister. She instead chose to take a sip of the wine she had poured, examining the contents of the glass intently, before setting it back on the table.
“Because you want to forget something?” Cheerilee asked, genuinely uncertain. She’d never asked her sister, and Berry Punch had never said. The teacher simply guessed, based on what she’d read in novels or heard about from friends.
“No, Cheers. I don’t drink to forget,” Berry said, with a roll of her eyes, still not looking at her sister. “I drink to remember, to celebrate.”
“You drink yourself half to death every single day. What could you possible be celebrating, or drinking in remembrance of?”
“I drink to celebrate anything, really. I drank when I met Pinchy’s father. I drank when I found out I was pregnant. Much less than I normally do, but I did. I drank when she was born. I drank when her father left me. I drank when she started going to school. I drink to celebrate another day gone by without dying. Another day with my daughter. Another day to enjoy being in the presence of those I love and those who love me. That includes you, Cheers. Every night, when I get home, I always say hello, and every night, you’re asleep. I love you, Cheers, I love you dearly, and so does little Pinchy. You being gone… will be…” Berry Punch’s smile faded, her voice became unsteady. She shuddered, a sob caught in her throat, the massive lump she’d been holding back finally lodged itself in her windpipe. “You being gone will be… the worst thing that’s ever happened to me… but you know… you know what? I’ll drink to you, Cheers, when it happens… I’ll drink to the finest pony to ever enter this home, and the finest teacher this country has ever known. You… I…” Berry Punch was still looking away from her sister, her blank stare having shifted to a glare of hatred, her jaw set, her grip threatening to crush the glass in her hooves.
Cheerilee still stood in the doorway to the kitchen, in stunned silence. She knew that once, her sister had cared that much for her, but… I thought that side of her was long gone, drowned in thousands of glasses of wine.
“Berry –” again, Cheerilee was interrupted, this time by the wine glass her sister held shattering.
“Damn it, Cheers, it isn’t fair!” Berry screamed, a mixture of blood, tears, and wine pooling on the kitchen table beneath her face. “You can’t leave me, you can’t leave Pinchy! It isn’t fair! Oh, Celestia… Celestia, if you’re hearing this, do something, anything, save my sister. I won’t drink another microliter of alcohol so long as I live if you just save her life! Take mine if you must, just… just let her live…” Berry’s explosive rant subsided as quickly as it had arisen, the mare being taken by sobs and wails, unable to form a proper sentence. She stood and rushed to her sister, stumbling on her two back hooves, her front limbs in too much pain from breaking a glass.
“Berry, Berry dear… it’s ok. It’ll be ok,” Cheerilee grunted as her sister slammed into her, knocking her onto her back, the hysterical mare on top of her pinning her to the ground. She felt something warm and sticky pooling under her. “If you were gone, who would take care of Pinchy? Don’t say anything like that. Just hearing you tell me how much you care… it’s more than enough. I love you too, Berry. I always will. Whatever happens, I’ll… I’ll…” Cheerilee struggled mightily to hold back her own tears. “Come now, sis, let’s get your hooves cleaned up. You’re bleeding on me. Come on,” Cheerilee slowly pushed her sister up, supporting as much of her weight as she could. Limping to the bathroom, Cheerilee delicately cleaned her sister’s forehooves, picking bits of glass out as she ran cool water over the wounds.
“Auntie Cheerilee?” A small voice behind her asked. “What happened, is mommy ok?”
Cheerilee looked over at the small unicorn filly, who was clearly as close to tears as she could be without actually crying. “It’s ok, Pinchy, your mommy just had a little accident. She’ll be fine.”
“But… but you won’t be.”
Something about her tone struck Cheerilee – it wasn’t sad, it was just… a statement.
“It’s ok, Pinchy. Why don’t you go get something to eat while I clean up your mother, ok?” The little filly nodded, shuffling out of the bathroom.
“We should do something today,” Berry muttered. “All three of us, as a family. Has Pinchy mentioned anything recently? I know I’m her mother but you see her more than I do… I suppose that’s going to change…”
“As a matter of fact, she has. There’s a carnival in town she said some of her friends went to that sounded like a blast. Think we could do that?”
“Yeah, that would be fun. They’ll have hard cider, right?”
The day spent with her family had been yet another she expected to be her last. Cheerilee awoke laying on her sister’s bed, her face buried in a maroon mane that smelled faintly of hard cider, the mare attached to the mane laid out perpendicular to herself. Curled against her sister slept her niece, the light purple unicorn filly’s chest rising steadily and shallowly as she slept in her mother’s embrace.
Another day. I’ve got another day. It will happen in my sleep, I have today.
Cheerilee lay contentedly at the bottom of her familial pile, listening to the breath catch in her sister’s throat in light, cute snores, and the slight, almost inaudible whoosh of Pinchy’s slumbering breaths. The scholarly mare would have been content to stay there for as long as her sister slept – which, unfortunately, was only another few minutes.
Berry Punch’s breath caught a little harder than the standard snoring, and the usually inebriated mare awoke with a snort and a half-hiccup.
“Ugh… G’mornin’, Cheers…” Berry muttered, rubbing her eyes as she rolled off her sister.
“Good morning, sis,” Cheerilee replied, voice a barely audible whisper, trying to preserve the dwindling time Pinchy had left in Luna’s realm.
“CHEERS!” Berry screamed, suddenly fully awake, throwing herself at her sister and pulling her into an exceedingly tight hug, “Oh my gosh Cheers you’re still here… oh tha-thank Ce-celestia…” Berry trailed off as Cheerilee felt a damp spot form on her chest, her sister’s breath having gone from a steady snore to an erratic, labored heaving of air in mere moments.
“You’re gonna kill me yourself if you don’t let go…” Cheerilee wheezed out of her sister’s crushing embrace. Berry Punch immediately let go, most certainly not wanting to shorten what little time she had left. Her eyes were a mixture of fear and sorrow – it seemed she had taken Cheerilee literally.
“Sister, I was kidding. Just… easy on the hugs. Oh, Pinchy, you’re up,” Cheerilee chuckled, looking over at the unicorn filly. The adorable child rubbed her eyes with her forehooves, before opening them, her light orange eyes taking in the rather immature sight of her mother weeping next to her aunt.
“Good morning, mom. Good morning, Aunt Cheerilee,” she said sleepily, rolling unceremoniously off the bed, hooves somehow finding their way underneath her as she righted herself and shuffled off towards the bathroom. Berry was about to reprimand her daughter for caring so little about her aunt when Cheerilee spoke.
“Don’t worry, Berry. It will happen in my sleep. She knows that. If I’m awake I’ll be fine for today. Don’t be mad at her for not being sad now. There… there will be enough of that in a few days. Come, let’s go make some breakfast. I think I’ll take the students on a field trip today – perhaps visit the Elements. They’re all such kind ponies, and Sugarcube Corner is certainly something none of them would oppose to,” Cheerilee giggled a little at her own plan. Berry grumbled her assent, and yawned as she got off of the bed.
---
“Miss Cheerilee!”
The wave of joy that blasted her as she walked into the schoolhouse nearly knocked her off her hooves.
“Good morning class!” Cheerilee responded with as much joy as she could muster. Just standing here, in the presence of all these loving fillies and colts, made her feel better about everything – it almost erased the feelings of dread buried in her chest.
“Today, I was thinking we could go on a field trip! We’re going to go meet the Elements of Harmony!” Cheerilee said, beaming at her students. Universally, her students returned the broad grin, getting up out of their seats and shuffling to the door, little hooves at the end of their short legs stepping and rolling in a manner that almost reminded Cheerilee of a centipede.
“Alright class, off we go! To Fluttershy’s cottage first!”
---
By the time they reached Sugarcube corner, the second-to-last stop on the trip, both Cheerilee and her students were quite tired, but very happy. Fluttershy had told her students the story of how she reformed Discord, Rainbow Dash had performed a Sonic Rainboom and gave rides to the foals, Rarity tried to explain how fashion trends came and went (a concept that the little foals didn’t get at all, so they had made a joke out of it, asking why orange and lime green didn’t work together and such like questions), and Applejack explained the history of Sweet Apple Acres in surprisingly juicy detail, and each student had left with an apple. All that remained were Pinkie Pie and… Twilight Sparkle.
Cheerilee had offered to purchase each of her students something from the little bakery on the condition they listen to one of Pinkie’s stories. As it turned out, Pinkie Pie wove a solid and continuous tale, one that kept Cheerilee’s young students rapt and waiting for more. Cheerilee sat in the back, sipping a milkshake, paying more attention to her students enjoyment of Pinkie’s tale than the story itself. When it became clear that Pinkie was drawing close to the end of the story, Cheerilee tuned back in.
“And that… is how you little fillies and colts ended up with the greatest teacher Equestria has ever seen, shy of Celestia herself,” Pinkie said, her rambunctious and exuberant voice taking a tone of solemn respect. She looked over to Cheerilee and smiled weakly at the teacher, walking over to her and hugging her, whispering into Cheerilee’s ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll cover whatever they want. It’s the least I can do. I’ll miss you, Miss Cheerilee. Everypony will.”
“Thank you, Pinkie. I… thank you,” Cheerilee muttered, trying to maintain her composure. Pinkie smiled at her again, before whirling around to the students, tumbling and balancing on the service counter as expertly as any gymnast might have done.
“Well little fillies and colts, what can I do you for?”
---
Bellies full and minds abuzz with sugar, Cheerilee realized that perhaps she should have planned the visit to Sugarcube corner as the last event of the day. Then again, the surprise visit to Twilight’s was as much a personal test of teaching skill for the unicorn as it was a field trip for the students. If Twilight could handle a class full of sugar-high fillies and colts, without knowing beforehand they were on their way, she could handle anything. Cheerilee knocked three times on the door, and waited for Twilight to open it.
“Good afternoon, Cheerilee! What brings you around here?” Twilight asked cheerfully before noticing the horde of students behind the teacher. “Oh. This is… some kind of test, isn’t it, to see if I can pull a lesson off on the fly, isn’t it?”
Cheerilee giggled. “Am I really that obvious?”
“Yep,” Twilight returned with a defiant glare and a slight chuckle, “but I’ll have you know I was expecting this, so I do have a lesson plan already! So ha! Come on in, kids, Miss Sparkle has a lesson for you…” The glint in Twilight’s eyes was one of pure determination, a look Cheerilee knew she had had years ago when she first began to teach.
“Do you think you can cover this? I need to run an errand really quick, I’ll be back in fifteen minutes at the most. You’ve got this until then, right, Miss Sparkle?”
“Of course, Miss Cheerilee, I can take anything these kids can dish out.”
“We’ve just come from Sugarcube corner, dear.”
“… you sly minx.”
---
As it so happened, Miss Cheerilee had been lying when she said she had somewhere to be. In fact, she stood quietly outside in the bright afternoon sun, trotting around the library for merely a moment or two before she noticed a lack of rambunctious child noises emanating from the tree. Curious, she peeked in the window.
Within the tree, Twilight had the students’ complete and total attention, and was delivering a lecture with magical visual aids the likes of which Cheerilee could never dream of having. Every eye was fixated on the purple mare, who was exceptionally more animated than usual, weaving in and out of the foals, making wide, sweeping gestures with her forehooves, jumping around almost like Pinkie might. Without warning, Twilight looked up and made eye contact with Cheerilee and winked at her, before continuing with whatever it was she was doing. Terrified she might break the spell as it were, Cheerilee resigned herself to staying outside for the duration of the lesson.
---
“I must say, Twilight, you really have proven yourself more than capable. Are you sure teaching isn’t your special talent, Twilight?”
Twilight Sparkle giggled and blushed at the compliment. “No, Miss Cheerilee, I’m quite certain that that is your area of expertise. Thank you, though, it means a lot that you think I’m going to do well as a teacher.”
“You’re welcome, Twilight. It puts me at ease, too, knowing the foals will be left in good hooves…” Cheerilee’s voice died and she stopped trotting, her head lowering as she began to cry. Twilight felt horribly awkward – she didn’t know what, if anything to say, or if a hug would be more appropriate, or –
“It’s alright, Cheerilee. You had no control over this. Do you… do you want to come over and have dinner? Spike really is an excellent cook…” the words found their way out of Twilight unexpectedly – the ideas hadn’t been in her mind moments ago, and now she had just invited Cheerilee over for dinner. Somehow… that felt like it had been the right thing to do, though – to offer a friend a simple comfort.
Dinner turned into an impromptu sleepover, Twilight Sparkle and Cheerilee staying up long into the night sharing stories of students and lessons, both given and received – as it turned out, Princess Celestia had forced Twilight to teach to foals on more than one occasion to prove a point of just how difficult teaching truly was – favorite books, anything they could think of, really. Twilight could be rather long-winded when she got going, and Cheerilee enjoyed that. Some part of the teacher in her just loved to be taught, listening to Twilight rambling on about magical theory or the one time she’d gotten locked in the kitchen overnight in Canterlot Castle, or her theories as to why Pegasi can touch clouds. All good things had to come to an end, though, and sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Twilight and Cheerilee headed to bed. Cheerilee had wanted to leave, and had tried to explain to Twilight why, but the lavender unicorn would have none of it. Reluctantly, Cheerilee took up shop on Twilight’s spare bed, and fell asleep.
---
Morning had come quite early – if Twilight had one thing going for her, it was her adherence to a strict schedule, or at least her attempts to adhere to a strict schedule when a national crisis did not forbid it. Her alarm went off precisely at six forty-five in the morning, despite having been up past two the previous night. Sure enough, the unicorn awoke right on time, and, shortly after, woke her guest.
“Oh, my goodness Cheerilee, you scared me. It took a little to wake you up, I thought…” Twilight was half in her spare bed, Cheerilee groggily rolling over, finding herself much closer to the unicorn’s face than she expected. The pair recoiled from each other quickly, Cheerilee exiting the bed on the far side, less than gracefully.
“Thank you… for waking me, Twilight,” Cheerilee said, noticing a slight burning sensation in her chest. “Do you mind… if I, er, use your shower?”
“Oh, of course, go right ahead. There are clean towels above the toilet, and the shampoos are in the tub. I’ll head downstairs and make some breakfast, ok? Is there anything in particular you want?” Twilight asked, already trotting to the door of her bedroom.
“Oh, no thank you,” Cheerilee responded quickly. “I couldn’t impose on you anymore… and I was planning on going to Sugarcube Corner, anyways. I think… I think today is it…”
“Oh, I’m… argh, this is so infuriating! I just… I don’t know what to say, because I know nothing I can say would change a single thing that’s happening to you. And you, of all ponies, don’t deserve it. You’ve done nothing but pour out your love for this community, and its little fillies and colts… why you? Why not… me? I mean… ever since I came to this town, all sorts of mean ponies and malevolent spirits have set upon the town. If I were gone… things would go back to the way they were before I showed up…”
“Dear, you’re the Element of Magic. You being here or back in Canterlot wouldn’t have made a bit of difference whether or not Nightmare Moon had returned, and honestly, even if things have been… let’s say ‘exciting,’ around here ever since you showed up… I honestly think most of the ponies like it. Ponyville was boring before you came here – and just think about all the adventures I’ll miss,” Cheerilee paused for a moment, and shook her head with a mirthless laugh. “Twilight, whether or not you were here right now would not change whether or not I was dying,” Cheerilee stated firmly, freezing just a moment after saying ‘dying.’ That’s the truth of the matter, isn’t it? Today is my last day here, in Equestria, my last day with my friends and family…
“Cheerilee? Are you ok?” Twilight asked.
“Hmm? What?” Cheerilee shook her head, clearing away the sad thoughts. “Why do you ask?”
“You just… started crying. If… if there’s anything I can do, Cheerilee, please, let me know,” Twilight replied, such genuine concern and honesty in her voice she could have been the elements of Kindness and Honesty in that moment.
“Thank you, Twilight Sparkle, but for now… I just need a shower. I’ll round up the students and get one last day of class,” Cheerilee said, the discomfort in her chest becoming slightly more pronounced, as she headed into the bathroom.
---
About forty minutes later, Cheerilee was knocking on the door to the Apple Family residence.
“Who is it?” Applebloom’s slightly squeaky southern accent floated through the wood of the door. “If you’re looking for Big Macintosh or Applejack, they’re already out, in the Southern and Western fields, respect…ful..ly… or something,” the voice trailed off, the door still closed.
“The word you’re looking for is ‘respectively,’ Applebloom,” Cheerilee said, giggling.
The door whipped open at almost comedic speed, actually generating an air current from behind the teacher.
“Miss Cheerilee! You’re here!” Applebloom nearly screamed, rushing out and hugging the earth mare.
“Yes, I am, Applebloom,” Cheerilee said, solemnly, “but… today is it. I want you to go collect your classmates and bring them to the schoolhouse as fast as you can, okay?”
“Of course, Miss Cheerilee. We’ll be there in half an hour,” Applebloom said, a determined expression coming across her yellow face. She gave Cheerilee one more quick hug, before dashing off down the path to town.
Cheerilee sighed and laughed. There’s no way she can get all the students to the schoolhouse in half an hour. She herself turned and began to walk down the path.
---
Beyond all expectations, Applebloom lived up to her word and all the students were at the schoolhouse within half an hour. They all stared up at Cheerilee from behind their desks, eyes moist, but smiles strong. Cheerilee stepped around her desk, and sat down in a slightly awkward position, rump on the ground and back against the front of her desk. She motioned for her students to come sit up by her. When they were all settled around her, Cheerilee began to speak.
“Hello, my little ponies. My best guess is you’re surprised to be here today,” she paused a moment, listening to the murmurs of acknowledgement from some of her students, who were rapidly shushed by other foals. “Well, I’m as surprised as you are. Six days ago, I was told I had less than seven days left. Every day I’ve woken up since then… has been an absolute blessing from Celestia. One more day with you, with my sister, with my friends… but today… I just…” Cheerilee stopped for a moment, forcing down the lump that was rising in her throat, her students watching and listening in perfect silence. “Every day I woke up, no matter how much I dreaded the sunrise and getting out of bed, getting to school and seeing your smiling faces brought to me a joy I cannot put into words. Those of you that have your cutie marks know… but doing this, the thing I was literally born to do, teaching and watching young fillies and colts grow? I simply cannot describe how happy it makes me to see you all succeed. However… I… won’t be able to, any longer. For a while, at least, you’ll be with Twilight Sparkle. Yes, the pretty purple unicorn who happens to be the Element of Magic that you have a crush on, Shady Daze,” Cheerilee said with a smirk, the little colt blushing madly as the class shared a nervous laugh, “You’ll be… in competent hooves, to say the least. She’s a wonderful mare and she enjoys teaching almost as much as I do. So don’t… don’t worry, you’ll be… you’ll be well looked after. If she ever gets a little too excited, just let her know, and she’ll be fine.”
“But she won’t be you!” Sweetie Belle protested, voice cracking at three separate points within the sentence, an audible reminder of how close to tears the class was.
“No… she won’t… but she’ll be close. I just… I just wanted you to know the indescribable happiness you brought to me. I wanted to make sure you knew that. No matter what you ever did, I loved each and every one of you with all my heart, and I will miss you all dearly. You… you can all have next week off,” Cheerilee said, voice catching as she could no longer hold back the tears. A soft object nestled itself under her chin and against her chest – Cheerilee didn’t care which of her students it was, she pulled them into as tight a hug as she felt she could without hurting them, sobbing into the child’s mane.
“We’ll miss you too, Miss Cheerilee,” Silverspoon squeaked, and in a moment, she was buried in sobbing foals.
---
Some tearful hours later, Cheerilee found herself at dinner with her sister. Pinchy was mysteriously absent, and her sister was being oddly quiet.
“Berry… it’s going to be tonight,” Cheerilee stated, coldly. The words almost hurt, even hearing herself say them, but she knew there was nothing that could be done.
“I know, sis, I know… ‘s why I had Pinchy spend the night at Dinky’s house.”
For a minute, perhaps two, silence reigned between the two mares.
“Hey, Cheers, whaddya say we share a bottle of wine? For… for old time’s sake?”
“I’ll take you up on that, Berry. I’d love to.”
---
Three hours later, both mares were laughing a little too loud, and a little too hard.
“And then… and then dad told you to…” Cheerilee tried to finish the story, but soon the two inebriated mares’ laughter rendered that task impossible. This… is how to spend your last hours. Getting drunk with your sister, remembering the best times of our lives. The burning sensation made itself known again in Cheerilee’s chest, different from the normal burn of alcohol.
“Hey Cheers… I think… I think we should get some sleep,” Berry said, voice dripping with intoxication.
“I think you’re right, Berry… I just… need to get dressed…”
The sisters stumbled up the stairs and into Cheerilee’s bedroom. Opening her closet, Cheerilee retrieved the black dress she had been given by Sweetie Belle, and carefully slipping her hooves through the shoulder straps.
“Wow, Cheers… you look gorgeous in that,” Berry breathed, all trace of drunkenness mysteriously gone from her voice.
“Thanks…” Cheerilee replied, stumbling over to her bed, falling onto it on her back. Berry joined her a second later, wrapping her sister in a tight embrace.
“I love you so very much, Cheers. Don’t you think for a second that there was ever anything different. I love you,” Berry said, planting a light kiss on her sister’s forehead.
“I love you too, sis.”
---
Long after Cheerilee had fallen asleep, Berry Punch lay awake, holding her sister tightly. The teacher’s breathing had become slowly but steadily more labored as she slept, to the point where she sounded almost like she’d just run a marathon, despite being asleep. There was a sudden look of pain on her face, her contented smile and gently closed eyes flickering for just a moment, before one great exhalation, expelling the air from her body a final time.
Funerals in Ponyville were generally a relatively small affair. The unfortunate pony in question was typically only seen off by his or her family and perhaps one or two very close friends. Today, however, was not that kind of funeral. The pony to be lowered into the ground had been neither old nor sickly, and didn’t have a large, extended family. This did not change the fact that dozens of ponies, of all ages and races, had come out today to pay their respects to Cheerilee Punch, perhaps the most beloved mare in town. Ponies who had never attended her school, ponies who didn’t even have foals that had attended her school, all came, because they all knew how wonderful she had been.
Rainbow Dash had gotten special permission from weather control in Cloudsdale for a rainstorm today. It wasn’t a heavy, life-giving rain, or a torrential downpour that threatened flooding, nor even a slight misting. It was simply… raining, disguising the tears streaming down Rainbow Dash’s own face as much as anypony else’s. Pinkie Pie’s mane and tail had completely lost their trademark curliness, the party mare’s solemn mood reflected by it. Applejack and Rarity stood separated by their sisters, both mares’ faces completely obscured by their hats, though both the cowpony’s trademark Stetson and the fashionista’s black veil did little more than accentuate their tears. Fluttershy’s face was completely obscured by her mane, but her shuddering body and spasming wings revealed her to be crying just as hard as any foal present. Perhaps the only pony present not crying was Twilight Sparkle. The purple unicorn’s mouth was scrunched tight and her body shook with restrained sobs, but her eyes refused to let a tear fall.
The foals showed no such restraint or attempts at retaining some form of dignity as the adults. Scootaloo wept as Sweetie Belle wailed over her shoulder, while Applebloom lay down, pounding the ground with a hoof over and over, forming a small bowl in the dirt that filled with rain and tears.
Before them all was a hole – six feet deep and long enough on all sides to comfortably fit the beautiful, polished mahogany box none of them wanted to see. Suspended by a gray aura, with a second aura defending it from rain, the front half of the box was lifted to reveal its contents. Inside, surrounded by the white silk lining of the coffin, lay an inert figure. Cheerilee Punch, clad in the beautiful black dress given to her by Sweetie Belle, rested peacefully, eyes closed, with a light smile still on her face. Three flowers were clasped in her hooves – three beautiful, simple flowers, with yellow centers and white petals. She could have easily been mistaken for being asleep, or perhaps posing for some silly photo-shoot, if the context were different.
“If… if anypony would like to say anything…” Solemn Vow said weakly, the dull gray unicorn stepping away from the podium, offering it to whoever so desired.
The first figure to step forward came as a surprise to everyone – Big Macintosh, Applejack’s brother, a kindly, stoic pony who had the misfortune of being mixed up in a misguided attempt to introduce romance into Miss Cheerilee’s life, strode forward, standing behind the podium for a few moments before speaking. His face betrayed no hint of emotion, but the steady trickle of tears down his cheeks begged otherwise.
“I’m not a stallion of many words, as most of you know, so I’ll keep this simple. Miss Cheerilee was a kind pony, kinder than most, and was one of my closest friends, despite the shenanigans my sister got me involved in. I hope y’all believe me when I say that, if given the option,” he stopped for just a moment, looking away, bringing a hoof to his lips. When he began again, his voice trembled ever so slightly. “That if given the option… I would change places with her in a heartbeat,” he finished, hanging his head low as he began to move away from the podium, his stone-still expression faltering as his lower lip began to tremble. To his credit, he kept the tears back until he had returned to his place by his sister, the orange mare offering what little comfort she could to the hulking red apple farmer.
The next pony to walk forward was Berry Punch. She held her head high, but the pain was clear on her face.
“We gathered here today to mourn the passing of my sister,” Berry said suddenly, “but that’s not what she would have wanted. No, we shouldn’t mourn her being gone. We should celebrate the time she was here for, the time…” she trailed off, resting her head on her hooves on the podium, her shoulders heaving as she sobbed. She felt something touch one of her back legs, and opened one eye just enough to see what it was. Standing next to her was her daughter, the little unicorn filly’s eyes overflowing with tears. Berry bent over and hugged her daughter, squeezing the little filly tightly, before returning her attention to the crowd. “Cheerilee… was the pony who would be for you whenever you needed her, you know? When… when Pinchy’s father left, she was there, helping me every step of the way with my pregnancy. Beyond that, I… I was never the best mother. Whenever I wasn’t… available… she would watch Pinchy. In some ways, she was a better mother to Pinchy than I ever was, than I ever could be. Even through all that, though? When I told her it should be me, looking down on the last few days of my life, not her? You know what she told me? ‘If you were gone, who would take care of Pinchy?’ Who says that? What kind of… outrageously selfless, caring mare does that? I just… I’m sorry, I can’t…” Berry finished, her voice breaking, and ran off stage. Before following her mother, Pinchy stepped up and uttered one sentence.
“I loved Auntie Cheerilee so much, I wish she would come back.”
Several minutes of silence followed, interrupted only by the sniffles and sobs of those in attendance. After a time, Solemn Vow spoke again.
“If… if there is nopony else who wishes to speak, then we may commence with the… burial.” Nopony objected, but a small orange filly ran across the field, producing a note and thrusting it into the hooves of Twilight Sparkle. The mare telekinetically unfolded the paper, her eyes scanning down it. She gasped, a hoof flying to her mouth, as her carefully maintained composure shattered, her breath slowing, catching, becoming ragged as the tears began to fall rapidly and without end. Rainbow Dash trotted over and picked up the note, slowly hovering to the front of the crowd.
“For Miss Cheerilee,” Dash read, her voice quivering, “The sweetest, kindest, best teacher we could have ever hoped for, and the best teacher we will have ever had. For us, though, Miss Cheerilee was so much more than a teacher. She was a mentor. A tutor. A friend. A listener. A storyteller. A crying shoulder. A helping hoof. A confidant. A sister. A mother. She was so many things to so many different foals, but above all else, she was somepony we loved and somepony who loved us. Miss Cheerilee, we want you to know that, wherever you are, we miss you greatly, and without you here, a part of the heart of every little foal in town is missing, a part that can never be replaced. With love, Cheerilee’s Class.”
Silence reigned again as Dash trotted off the stage, heart too heavy for her to get off the ground. Berry Punch had made her way back to the front of the crowd, and was staring at her sister’s body. Solemn Vow gently began to close the lid.
“I love you, Cheers.”
The lid closed.
The box was lowered into the ground.
Solemn Vow replaced the dirt.
Here Lies Cheerilee Punch Teacher, Mentor, Sister, Friend
---
Many years had passed. Twilight Sparkle had long since passed out of the tutelage of Princess Celestia and completed her studies. By her own choice she had moved back to Ponyville, to be with her friends, and more importantly, to become the full-time teacher at Ponyville’s elementary school. The building was a solemn reminder of what had once been – a sign by the door read Cheerilee Punch Memorial Elementary School. Every now and then, a student would ask who Cheerilee was, or why there was a one week break for her, a little foal who had been born after she had died. The conversations were always the same, they’d ask who, Twilight would tell them she was the teacher before her, and they would ask if she was as good as Miss Twilight.
Twilight always gave them the same answer.
“No, my little pony, she was not as good as me. She was much better.”