Haunted Memories
By: Zero_Starlight

"I'm so glad to see you again Zero! I know you were only gone two weeks, but I'm fairly certain that I may have to present a new hypothesis on time and the magic of friendship!"

I laughed at Twilight's comment, "I've missed you too, Twi. Seems nopony but me understands how to keep a simple radio tower working. Poor Scratch nearly blew out her amps trying to get her tunes out to everyone!"

Twilight giggled, making a small part of me grin madly. I loved making Twilight laugh.

Twilight and I had been dating for five years straight now, and I couldn't remember a time I had ever been happier. Not exactly a great point seeing as I couldn't actually remember anything prior to meeting Twilight, but I deemed that irrelevant.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice some kind of commotion going on. Turning to face the source of the disruption, my eyes widened at the sight of a heavily laden cart speeding towards us!

"Look out!" I yelled, throwing myself across the table, tackling Twilight to the floor.

The logical bit of my brain reminded me that, as a sack of bone, blood and flesh, I didn't really constitute as a very good shield.

I told that bit to shut up as I braced for the bone shattering collision...

-

I woke up, covered in a cold sweat, biting down on my tongue to stop the scream. My left hand reflexively reached out, wanting to intertwine with it's opposite.

Instead, it met, like it had done so for the past three years, the stump where it's partner had once connected.

I sat there for a while, just me and my thoughts, accompanied by the sound of my panicked breath, eventually slowing down enough that I was actually breathing, instead of just pulling air in like a fish out of water.

The silver glow of Luna's moon made the polished steel instrument shine from it's spot on the night stand. I stared at it, debating, fighting with my inner demons, who would quite honestly be flattered to be called as such.

The weapon was the result of one such battle that I had lost, and now the voice taunted me, assuring me of the simplicity of it's suggestion. It wouldn't be hard, we always kept the damned thing loaded.

I wanted to give in to the voice's suggestion, I had suffered three years worth of emotional torture, and the simple solution, the means to the end, as it were, sat in front of me. Almost without feeling the impulse to do so, I reached forward, fingers brushing the cold steel.

I jerked my hand back at the sensation and rubbed the bridge of my nose. I nearly let it happen again.

I pulled myself out of bed. I wasn't going to be able to nod off after that, so I was left with one option. Realizing only now that I had chosen to sleep in yesterday's clothing, I shrugged on my heavy synthetic leather duster, and headed out.

-

The thing about loss is, most of the time when you lose something, you can replace it. Not so with death. Although everyone, especially Spike, the poor guy, had taken the loss hard, it had taken less than a week for the cloud of depression to move away from most of the town.

For her friends, the healing took longer, upwards into a month, two tops. For Spike, well, he disappeared for a year and a half after the accident, and on his return promptly moved out.

As you can probably tell, I still haven't healed.

-

The white gravel that crunched under my wooden sandals did little to brighten the atmosphere. Not surprising seeing as cemeteries don't tend to rank all that high on the 'sunshine and rainbows' meter.

I walked through the rows of headstones, winding my way slowly to the back. I held in my hand a bundle of flowers, white roses to be exact, and their petals fluttered in the cool night breeze. Reaching the headstone I was here for, I placed the flowers on the smooth, glass like crystal that made up the marker. For a time I simply stood, tracing the engravings cut into the crystal, reading the words for the umpteenth time.

Here lies Twilight Sparkle, beloved daughter, cherished friend, star pupil. Rest in Peace.

END.

Author's Note; Well... that was... fun? Ok, yeah, I'm never writing this level of grim dark again. Read, Review, Favorite.