When The Past Is A Present (You'd Like To Return)

Avalon rested her hoof on her mothers, her eyes welled up with tears. Pinkie Pie was resting in the hospital bed… if you could call it resting.

They had found her lying in the lobby of Sugar Cube Corner, now an inn and well kept by Pinkie. Next to her lied an empty syringe. Avalon had been the one to find her. Her mother still had a light pulse, but her eyes didn’t respond to light. She and some family friends had taken her to the hospital, where the nurses told them that she had gone into a medicated coma. Her mind was still working, and her body could still function, but for some reason everything had shut down. It was as though she had retreated into her mind. The nurses said they would do all they could, but all they could do for the time being was keep her alive and comfortable.

That had been three days ago, and Pinkie still hadn’t woken. Avalon had been running Sugar Cube Corner with her brother, Zeamus. As for her father… Her father, Obreon, had locked himself in his room for those past three days. He had blamed himself, saying he had seen her upstairs, and hadn’t stopped her in his drunken grogginess. As much as they had tried to comfort him, it had no effect. Avalon had been bringing him food at regular intervals, and basically controlled everything that happened in the Inn now.

Knowing her mother could not hear her, but hoping beyond hope that she could, Avalon leaned down to her mother. “Please, mum,” she said, a slight Irish accent peaking through her voice. “We all need yew to wake up…. Please…” She bowed her head, tears streaming down her face. What was her mother doing in her mind, and how could they help?...

Pinkamena Diane Pie was smiling, playing with her dolly. It was a small grey doll, looking a lot like her sissy, Inkie. She had a doll for each of her sisters, and one each for her parents. Blinkie was the oldest, and she was 7. Blinkie was 6, Blue was 5 and Pinkie herself was just 4. Mommy, who daddy liked to call Victoria, was older than all of them. Daddy was the oldest, though. Daddy’s name was Clyde, but Pinkie couldn’t call him that. Not that she had ever had the chance too. She had only seen her Daddy in pictures on the wall, cause when she was born, Daddy had to go away on business. He’d been gone for 4 years, but Mommy said that was normal cause Daddy was going all of the way to Canterlot and back. It was a long way on hooves.

Pinkie was extra happy today, though. Today Daddy was supposed to be coming home. Daddy could see all the work she did on the farm and her dollies and he would be happy. Pinkie brushed her dolls mane, her own poofy mane unmanageable. Her mother was in the kitchen, making soup for dinner. Pinkie loved her mother. She made good dinner.

Suddenly, the door opened to the bitter winter night. A somewhat orange stallion walked in, a cloak wrapped around him. Pinkies eyes sparkled as she looked at her father in the flesh for the first time in her life. “Daddy!!”

The stallion looked at the filly, his eyes wide. When he spoke, Pinkie flinched slightly. That wasn’t the nice, kind voice she had always imagined him to have. Instead it was rougher than the stones they harvested. “What? ‘Daddy’?...”

Victoria walks out of the kitchen, looking at Clyde. “Clyde… I-I didn’t know you would be home so soo-“

“Whose child is this?!” Both Victoria and Pinkie flinched at the outburst. Whose child? Well, Pinkie was his daughter, right? Clydes eyes were cold and angry. “L-look at that fur, her eyes… God, that mane!”

As he said this, Pinkies hooves went to her poofy hair defensively. “Pinkie’s mane is Pinkie’s mane, and Daddy can’t tell me what it is and what it isn’t!” Pinkie hated it when ponies made fun of her mane.

Her father’s eyes were full of rage. Pinkie saw his hoof go up, and she gasped as it came down, smacking her cheek. She sniffed, her eyes filling with tears as she felt pain in her face. “I’m not your father, you filthy little child! Get out of my sight! GO!”

Pinkie ran to her bedroom, tears running down her red face as she heard her father’s screams of anger. She heard her mother say something back, and after came another audible smack. Pinkie held her dolly close, running into her room and shutting the door quickly.

She wiped her tears off on her hoof, glancing in the small mirror she had. She looked at her pink mane, fur, hooves, body… all of it was a bright blot of color in a dark rock farm… Was that why Daddy was so angry?

Why didn’t Daddy like her colors? Were they wrong? She glanced at her poofy mane. Nopony else in the family had poofy hair. Maybe that was what had Daddy upset. Maybe he thought she wasn’t part of their family because of it.

Well, she thought, if poofy hair makes Daddy sad…

With a small deflating sound, her hair went flat, almost as though it had responded to her mood. It was now just as straight as her sisters’ manes, and Pinkie smiled. Maybe now Daddy wouldn’t be so angry at her.

She sat on her bed, brushing her dolly’s hair to make it just as smooth and flat as her own. After awhile, the shouting down the hall ceased. She heard hoofsteps that got louder the closer to her door they got, ending outside of her room. After a hesitant sort of silence, the door opened to reveal her father.

Pinkie laid her doll down and stood, her eyes shining. “Daddy! Lookie, I know you didn’t like my mane, so I made it straight, just for you! Does this make you happy?”

Her father’s face was a mystery as he sat down next to her, his eyes sparkling with what almost looked like bewilderment. “Yes, I do see, sweetie…”

Pinkie smiled brightly at him. “Oh, yay yay yay! I had hoped that would make you happy!”

Her father could not help but smile. “So… Pinkamena… you’re my child…”

Pinkie nodded quickly. “Call me Pinkie, Daddy!”

Her father grabbed her and hugged her tightly, laughing and tussling her mane. In that moment, Pinkie knew everything was fine. “Alright, Pinkie. Now, why don’t we go have some of moms nice soup?”

Pinkie giggled as she fixed her mane, looking up to her father. Her smiled back at her, and Pinkie knew life would be good. Her face still hurt where he had slapped her, but she forgave him. After all, Daddy was angry. It had been her fault anyways. With another giggle, she walked out to the dining area with her father.

Outside the window, a cloaked mare stood, watching the scene with tears rolling down her face. Those had been the good times, hadn’t they? Back when she had a child’s innocence. Her tears stung at her eyes, realizing how quickly it had all deteriorated…

It was all downhill from here.