Author's Notes:

Drooling red from my eyes to meet the bitter sun that shines past into light
Setting fire to curtains in hope that you’re dreaming

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-Dyaoq_oSA

You walk out of Redheart's home and slip the gun in the back of your jeans, then cover it with your shirt. You set off to your destination. Home.

You can feel your clammy hands grow cold against the night wind. Your steps echo loudly as you walk through the dirt roads outside of town. Occasionally, you close your eyes and just hold them, relishing the darkness for a moment. If you were to die, today. What would it be like?

Would you return to Earth? What would happen? Would this be the final note of your existence? Dying in a new world, devoid of other humans? Would there be anything waiting for you on the other side? Is there some greater creator or force that would judge you for every misdeed you've done?

Would you be judged harshly for your actions against Fluttershy? If you murder her today, are you condemned?

When you open your eyes, you find yourself leaving town. The dirt road leading off to the houses that live on the edge of town winds on and on. And there, on the side of the road stands a tree, worn and sickly. Its leaves had fallen to the ground in a broken melancholy, its outer bark peeling and falling to the ground. When you moved into this town, the world was so green and filled with life. However, now? Even the grass feels as if it has turned yellow and dead. The sky feels gray and apathetic. The quiet indifference of the world stagnates in your throat as you push yourself forward.

It's as if the fabric of reality itself boils with rage at this turn of events. How dare you. How dare you decide to take a life. What is wrong with you.

"It's the only way," you mutter, as if the tree demanded an answer. It refuses to dignify your existance.

How dare you. You are ruining everything. Things will never be the same.

Another soft breeze graces your cheeks as you place a well grounded step forward and continue on. The gun weighs heavy and freezing on your back. Your teeth grind. Your muscles ache and protest as you move forward.

Then, there. In front of you is your home.