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

Pinkie hummed as she poured the red and white mixture into the cupcake mold. She was a mare of 15, and life had finally, FINALLY, been the best it could be. Her mother was out harvesting herbs in the forest, and Pinkie had been alone at home all day, doing some ‘harvesting’ of her own. She loved it when unsuspecting ponies came to their home. No one ever doubted that the pink mare with the funny mane would ever harm them. What’s that, a drink you say? Who would ever suspect it would be drugged?

Pinkie poured the lovely couple who had just arrived at their home not 3 hours ago into the mold, savoring the smell of their blood. She dumped in some sugar, smiling. Everything tastes better with sugar. She looked at the ground up bone in the mixture, her smile growing. She had made them the perfect size, small enough to be digestible, but large enough to be noticed. Juuust right to be confused with some other confection, perhaps nuts.

Pinkie put the cupcakes in the oven just as her mother walked in from outside, letting in some of the cold winter air. Pinkie quickly ran over and shut the door behind her mother. “Bit chilly out, mother?”

Victoria nodded, rubbing her face to rid it of its redness. “Just a tad, Pinkie, just a tad.” Victoria glanced around, smelling the air. “Do I smell cupcakes in the oven?~”

Pinkie nodded happily, beaming at her mother. “Yep! A happy couple from Canterlot were heading down to a town called Ponyville for a ‘vacation in the country’. They were both VERY thirsty, so I gave them a drink. After that, they were so nice and agreed to help me make some cupcakes.”

“How sweet of them… And I do trust that they are sweet?”

“Mhm! I added lots of sugar.”

Pinkie’s smile grew as her mother hugged her tightly. “Good girl. We can eat those after dinner.” Her mother looked her in the eyes. “You’ve grown so much, my Sweet Pie. You’ve gone through so much.”

Pinkie giggled at her mother. “I know, Mama. I have you to thank for everything I know.”

Pinkie walked to her room as her mother prepared dinner. They were still very poor, but Pinkie and her Mother had begun to transform their meager rock farm into a bakery. Ponies would come by for tasty treats. Some became tasty treats. ‘The Circle of Goods’, Pinkie liked to call it. Victoria was making more money off of baking than she ever had farming rocks.

Pinkie glanced in the dusty mirror as she brushed her mane out. She smiled at the few flakes of blood in her mane, lost in the pink color.  So wonderful and so tasty. So far, the tastiest she’d tasted had been her father. She supposed it was because it had the wonderful seasoning of vengeance coupled with victory. Of course, she had also loved her father. He had made her come into this world and allowed her to live, no matter how much he had beaten her. The moment he had decided to kill her, she had done what she had to too survive.

Still, Pinkie thought, if her family members tasted so good… She had tried her own blood and her fathers. Inkie and Blinkie had escaped her… but what about her mother? How did her blood taste? Surely, the sweetest of her family, seeing as her mother was by far the sweetest pony she knew. However, how could Pinkie kill her mother? She had been the only pony whom had never once tried to hurt her.

Meaning she’s become a weakness.

Pinkie shook her head at the voice. She still heard it, every so often. A little nagging voice in the back of her head, forever complaining and mentioning the worse parts of life, convincing her to do horrible things to fix said problems…

Pinkie looked into the mirror as her mother walked in with a smile on her face. “Sweetie, just wanted you to know that dinner was ready.”

Pinkie smiled back to her, making sure not to let her concern show on her face. “Thanks, mother. I’ll be out in just a moment.” Her mother nodded and walked back out to the kitchen. Pinkie turned back to the mirror. She would never kill her mother. She was sure of that.

~*~*~*~*~

Pinkie gasped and opened her eyes, fear etched across her tear ridden face. She was in the hospital bed at night, the heart monitor spiking. She was terrified of what came next, the part that had always frightened her. She had woken for just a moment from the near coma.

Panting, knowing she only had minutes before the solution still running through her blood stream worked its way back to her heart, she turned her head to look at the sleeping form of her daughter, Avalon. Pinkie felt tears rolling down her face. Her heart was torn with sorrow, knowing how much pain she was causing her family with her absence. There had to be something she could do to help them…

~*~*~*~*~

Pinkie woke up to her mother screaming for her. “PINKAMENA DIANE PIE!” Pinkie quickly ran to the basement where her mother was, startled. Her mother never called her by her full name…

She reached the basement and clambered down as quickly as she could. Standing in the midst of the surgical tools and blood was her mother. She was shaking. “Diane… What… is… THIS?!”

“M-Mom, i-it’s where we harvest…”

“So why was THIS left out?!” Her mother held up a horn, one of the horns from the couple. Her voice was angry and her back was to Pinkie.

“I-I…I thought it looked pretty…”

“YOU THOUGHT IT LOOKED PRETTY?!” Her mother threw the horn at Pinkie, making her gasp. She just managed to dodge the projectile. “Diane, you KNOW money is tight! Do you realize how much powdered unicorn horns make on the market!?”

“M-mom, I was going to make a necklace of them… I-it was going to be a gift…”

“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT!” Her mother was walking towards her, her face shaded by her unkempt mane. Pinkie backed away, scared and confused by her mother’s behavior. What had made her so angry??

“M-Mom, p-please, calm down…”

“YOUR FATHER WAS RIGHT!” Pinkie’s eyes widened. “YOU ARE A FAILURE! YOUR CUPCAKES ARE WORTHLESS ON THE MARKET! YOU’RE WASTING MY TIME AND MONEY!” Her mother tilted up her head, her mane going past her eyes, revealing their bloodshot color and tears. “I-I should’ve given you up… I should’ve saved myself the humiliation of having you as a daughter… I should’ve saved you…”

Suddenly, Pinkie understood. Today was the day her father had died. The day after her birthday. Pinkie had forgotten completely. Each year, she had heard nothing from her mother. Tonight, it had become too much. Her mother felt horrible for submitting her daughter to that torture, that pain. Her mother had watched as her father had beaten Pinkie and now she was feeling the ultimate price for her lack of action: Regret.

Pinkie stood and hugged her mother. “It’s okay, Mom, I’m okay.”

Pinkie recoiled from the unexpected slap to her face. Her mother glared at her. “Don’t touch me, you filthy child. Go to your bed. Now.”

Pinkie shook her head slowly, not comprehending. She was only trying to help… “M-mom, I know you didn’t mean to hurt me…”

Her mother grabbed Pinkies head, her eyes wide and deranged. “ME HURT YOU?! Don’t make me laugh! You’re the one ruining my life!”

“M-Mom, don’t say that!!”

Pinkie was slapped once more. “DON’T COMMAND ME, YOU LITTLE BITCH! I am the law, I am your master, I CONTROL YOU. NOW Go! To! Your! Room!” With every word of her command, she slammed her hoof against Pinkies face.

When she was done, Pinkie knew her nose was bleeding. She could taste the blood in her mouth… yet somehow, it had lost its sweetness. It tasted like blood, but that was it. There was no startling emotion behind it. There was no seasoning.

Pinkie looked back up at her mother. “… Fine, mommy… I’ll go to bed…” She slowly stood, thinking. Her mother was obviously insane. Her mother was a weakness… Her mother was going to hurt her, in the long run… She began to walk to the door when, out of the corner of her eyes, Pinkie saw a polished knife.

Victoria had her back turned, panting and sobbing. She would never hurt Pinkie, but Pinkie reminded her of every way she had failed. Every way she had let her own daughter be tortured. Therefore, it was just easier to abuse the source of all of her pain. She heard her daughters hoofsteps fade away and sighed. “Finally… I couldn’t stand looking at those eyes any longer…” She rubbed her face, sitting. “It’s a shame… She has such beautiful eyes…” She smiled softly. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll throw her a part-“

Her voice was cut off as the knife cut cleanly through her vocal cords, as well as her neck. Pinkie stood behind her, eyes bright in the dark basement. “I just wanted to say goodnight mommy.”

Her mother made no response. She could only stare at her killer, her own daughter, the last of her family she had left. Pinkie cut a long incision down her mother’s chest and tore the skin apart, leaving her ribcage exposed. Her mother only cried. She broke the ribs there and reached down into her mother’s body. Quite calmly, Pinkamena Diane Pie tore out her mother’s heart.

Her mother lay at her hooves, dead. Pinkie watched the body without making a sound. Slowly, she sat next to it and hugged her mother’s heart. “I’ll keep you near to me forever, Mommy. You were the sweetest.” After sitting at her mother’s body for an hour or two, merely reminiscing, Pinkie trotted upstairs and grabbed an enchanted chest. Her mother had gotten it years ago from one of the ponies she had harvested. She opened the box and placed her mother’s heart inside. “This box will make sure I can keep you near to me forever, mommy… I love you…” She slowly closed her box, seeing the last remaining part of her mother’s body for the last time.

Pinkie looked around slowly. “I should go someplace where I can make cupcakes… Someplace nopony will suspect a pink, fun mare…” She smiled, remembering the place the couple had spoken of. “Ponyville…”

~*~*~*~*~

Avalon started awake, gasping. She didn’t know why she had woken. She glanced around the fully lit hospital room, seeing nurses bustling about outside per usual. She rubbed her face, looking at her mother’s still form, in the same place it had been the day before.

Avalon felt a slight weight on her lap, only just realizing it. She glanced down, her eyes still adjusting to the hospital lighting. As her vision cleared, her eyes widened in disbelief. In her lap was a single note, written in her mother’s frantic writing. Those six words brought tears to Avalon’s eyes, but they were happy tears. Happier tears than she had shed in a long time.

Be back soon. I love you.