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My Little Dashie: Fourth Times the Charm

by PonyManne215

Chapter 10: Back Then

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There comes a time in a man’s life where you stop everything. You cease all movement and actions. You stop thinking about all of the troubles and problems you have. All of the promises you made; just a moment to relax. In this moment, you think about all of choices you have made in your life, all of your actions, thoughts, and words. You look back at them and see if you did anything wrong that you wish to change. You also look back and see if you have really made something out of your life, making it mean something.

I am going through this point right now. I look back on all of the choices I have made. From bothering to go back to that box on the street and finding Dashie to coming to Equestria for the rest of my life. I think to myself ‘I have really done good’ but none of this matters. I have already realized that I have done the best I could in this life. I have realized that I made the right choice coming here and living my life with Dashie. This moment right now, is not about my experiences with all of the ponies. This moment is about my life before.

I never gave much thought really to my early life. Perhaps it was because I was too miserable and didn’t want to excite myself. Or perhaps it was because I had too much in my life going on to think about it. Who knows? All I know is that my life by myself was just an empty shell. A silent part of my life. But the life before that, now that was a different thing.

I remember when I was just a baby. Not much, but I still can remember bits and pieces. I remember when my dad would take me around the house and held my hand. I remember my mom kiss all of my injuries when I fell or scraped my skin. I remember waking up to the fresh, delicious smell of gingerbread men and cookies on Christmas morning. All of these memories were such a fond part of my life.

Being a child was so perfect. I had no worry in the world. My parents rarely fought and I rarely got into arguments with them. They took great care of me and they loved me beyond words. They worked hard so that they could get me all of the necessities of life and all of the things that follow it. They even were able to afford some luxuries for me. To this day, I am grateful for all of the things that they gave me.

I loved my elementary school as well. Even though it was a bit noisy, all of the kids got along. The troublemakers were not bad, they just did a lot of stupid pranks. The lessons were fun and memorable, the teachers were nice, and recess was like heaven. Everyone shared food with anyone who was still hungry or who didn’t have any. The entire town was perfect. My parents also drove or walked me to this certain playground that I spend most of my childhood at. It was a few blocks down but I didn’t mind taking my time there. It was the same one where I had taught Dashie how to fly.

I wasn’t the smartest kid in school but I wasn’t the dumbest either. Entering high school was pretty tough, but it wasn’t so bad once you got used to it. Sure, kids got picked on, but people had backbones. They stood up for the bullied and helped each other out. I wasn’t bullied but I didn’t really stand out either. I can’t say much for my looks. I was literally your everyday Joe.

Everything was going just great in my life. I was reaching the end of high school and ready to enter college when that day came. I still remember it and can relive it just by thinking hard enough. It’s all still recorded in my mind. It was a warm summer day. It was just like your average day, bugs buzzing, birds chirping, and the heat was setting in. The temperature was different as it reached evening. It wasn’t too hot but it also wasn’t too cold. It was mild, just right.

I was ready to go out and hang with friends down the block at the old playground. We would occasionally smoke or drink beer and just talk. We would joke around and do crazy stunts. Anyways, I was ready to leave the door when my eye caught sight of the clock; the classic wooden clock that my father had in his family for generations. It was almost six thirty. My parents had left to go shopping at around four or so and it didn’t usually take them this long to just get some clothes or groceries.

I was getting a little worried so I called my friends and told them I wasn’t going to hang out with them that day. I sat around in the living room and waited for their return. I wasn’t worried much at the time as I thought that maybe the city’s traffic was jammed up. I decided to flip through the TV to find something good to watch while I waited. I found this new show called Walker, Texas Ranger. It was starring one of the most famous fighters of all time, Chuck Norris. Apparently, they were having a four-hour marathon so I decided to watch it. I watched about halfway in before I dozed off.

I woke up and looked at the clock. It was nine thirty. I looked at the key rack to see if my parents had come home yet but it didn’t have dad’s old car keys hanging on it. ‘This is weird’ I thought to myself. There was definitely something going on. I decided to call my parents’ friends and my family to see if they had heard from them. No one had heard from them since they left this afternoon. I was getting anxious and antsy. I then started to panic.

‘Maybe they decided to go on vacation? No that’s stupid, they would’ve took some money or clothes. Maybe they got robbed? No that’s also stupid because the city’s crime rate was at an all-time low.’ Many thoughts raced across my mind as I pondered what had happened to them. I decided to calm down and wait some more. I sat in the chairs, shifting positions and changing seats every so often. I was starting to give up when I got a phone call.

I picked up the phone. “Hello, who is this?” “Uhm, son, is your name Brian?” I never heard the voice before and was getting scared. “Good, this is Officer Jones of the city’s police department. I’m afraid there’s been an accident and we need you here. We have an officer waiting outside and want you to go with him.” I was scared out of my mind. ‘What kind of accident could he be talking about? Why would he need me?’ I looked outside the window and saw a police car with a officer waiting and looking at me. I went outside and he greeted me. He opened the door for me and I got inside.

The entire car ride was silent. He didn’t say much except to ask me my name and my age. I responded but he never gave responses back. When we finally arrived at the city hospital, he got out of the car and brought me inside. He left me at the door and another officer came up to me. “I’m Officer Jones, we spoke on the phone.” I nodded my head and we shook hands. He brought me to a closed door and stopped me. “Son, I want you to know that the doctors did everything they could. I think you should maybe take this slow.” My heart was beating rapidly now. It beat as though I had just run a marathon. I felt like it was going to pop right out of my chest. I slowly opened the door.

I couldn’t believe what my eyes were seeing. My mind was going faster than my body, thinking before I could act. What I saw before me had killed whatever joy and happiness I had at the time. My parents were lying on the hospital beds, bruised, cut, and not breathing. Their heart rate monitors were shut off. I rushed up to their bedsides and buried my face in their hands.

My parents, the people who gave me life, joy, and everything that I have come to know and love, were lying lifeless before me. Every memory of us together was flashing across my mind. I couldn’t comprehend this horrid sight. I cried as much as I could. I managed to choke out a few words to the officer who took off his hat in respect.

“W-w-what h-h-h-happ-pened?” He came up to me and rested his hand on my shoulder. “Some kids were playing around when their ball bounced into the street. They came out suddenly while your parents where driving and your parents turned the car so that they wouldn’t hit the kids. They gave those kids a future life but they……crashed into an empty car….” He stopped speaking because he knew that I understood.

He left me to be with my parents. Almost the entire hospital heard me cry. I could hear some sobbing and discussion outside of the room. I cried for the rest of the night until I had no water in my entire body left to use. I fell asleep while still holding their hands.

When I finally left, my family was there to comfort me. After a few weeks, we put together enough money for a funeral. By this time though, I had no more will to cry or even laugh at anything. I was too weak to give a eulogy so my grandfather took my place. He spoke of many things, including happy times, but again I had no joy left in me.

When the funeral was finished, the will was read and the house and all of my parents’ money went to me. I didn’t care about anything but keeping the house. I decided to stay in that house of ours because their spirit and love still dwelled within. But this loss of life within me led to that silent part. That, unhappy and miserable stage of my life.

This was what my life was like before meeting Dashie. It was a bundle of happiness but was then tarnished by the plague of death and sorrow. A life that was crumbled up and smashed until there was none left. This, was what had happened back then.

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