Chapters When The Past Is A Present (You'd Like To Return)
Pinkie was cleaning her house happily, her hair as poofy as it had ever been. The poofiness was new, seeing as she had been wearing her mane down as of late, but she didn’t question it. After all, she was allowed to be happy. The curls in her mane reflected her inner happiness, and today they sprung out, uncontrollable and funny. Today was cleaning day, however, and so her hair was contained – or at least was attempted to be contained – by a nice hair net.
Hopping over to the wall, she lifted her hooves to it, the suction cups on her hooves taking hold of the hard surface and sticking clean. She began to walk up the wall, walking to a small clock hanging on the bakery wall. She began to dust it off happily, flicking the duster this way and that. Looking closely at the clock, she saw it read to nearly noon. She’d been cleaning all day.
Looking around, though upside down, she saw Sugar Cube Corner already shown and sparkled with cleanliness. “Huh. Guess I’ve done a lot today.” She giggled slightly. “Maybe I should stop for a bit,” she said, blowing a stray curl out of her face. Hopping off of the wall, she landed on her hooves. Instantly, all of her ‘cleaning outfit’ sprang off of her and landed in a heap around her. She picked them up, giggling, and hopped upstairs to put them away.
As she reached her room, she heard a small voice drift out from inside. "Whiskeh... Whut're ya duin, whiiiiiiski... 'R yew all dolled up liek a barmaid?” This strange seeming sentence was followed by light snoring. Pinkie giggled and walked inside her room, glancing at her sleeping husband. He was curled up in their bed again, clutching a whiskey bottle to his chest as though it was a teddy bear.
She rolled her eyes slightly at his sleepy mutterings. “Oh, Oby,” she whispered softly to herself, feeling yet another small surge of love for the Irish pony. She had met him years ago, and yet her love for him never died. She put away her clothing and heard a small clink as Obreon dropped his empty whiskey bottle under the bed, shifting to the right. She walked over, kissed him lightly as not to wake him, and reached under the bed to grab the bottle.
As she searched for the bottle, her hoof touched a small box under the bed. A puzzled look alighting her face, she pulled the box out, the bottle forgotten. The box wasn’t anything spectacular, a small grey, faded thing with old words etched into the top. ‘When the Past is this present’ it said. Pinkie couldn’t remember in what circumstance she had written this. Nor could she remember the contents of the box, or the box even existing in the first place. Blowing dust off of the top, she saw a small word written there in what looked to be a foals writing. It seemed gibberish to most, but as Diane read the word, it sparked her memory. An old made up language she and her…
She ran her hoof over the word. “Olotesli,” she whispered, careful not to wake her sleeping husband. “Memories…”
She lightly opened the box, admitting a small gasp. Inside were pictures and things… horrible, horrible things. Her memories of long forgotten things and pasts flooded back to her mind, gushing over her in a terrible wave. Her heart ached, seeing pictures of her sisters, a small doll of Inkie she had made, and blood… there was always so much blood…
She dug around more, finding a small necklace of teeth, all with dried blood on them. She shuddered, remembering her darker than night past. She had locked all of these memories away deep in her mind, but now she remembered it all. It was almost too much.
There was a soft groan behind her as Obreon opened his eyes. He said in a very sleepy voice, “ennithin' rong, luv?”
Pinkie shook her head, keeping her thoughts to herself. “No, its fine, just found some old pictures.”
Obreon nodded slightly, then laid his head back on the pillows, falling asleep instantly. Pinkie glanced at him once, but turned back to the box quickly, tears beginning to stain her face. How could she have forgotten it all? How could she push every thought of her past away, even for a moment?
Yet now she realized, it had always been there, haunting her unknowingly. All those unforeseen nightmares, all of those unexplained terrors hiding in the shadowy caves of her mind… She had never known something like this hid in the depths of her mind, and now that she did…
Pinkamena Diane Pie was terrified.
Taking the box, she trotted downstairs. Obreon was sound asleep in his half drunken state, and therefore never heard her tears. It was mid day, and so everypony else would be out, enjoying the beautiful summer sun.
Pinkie was terrified, and she knew this was a very dangerous thing. The key reason why, she told herself, was that when she was terrified, things happened. It had all gone downhill when she had learned magic, she told herself. It consumed her now, that terror filling every aspect of her being. She had to hide it somehow, hide her past from the others, but how, HOW?!
Her eyes went to the fireplace. In a burst of magic it came to life, sparking into a blaze the fireplace nearly couldn’t hold. She tossed the box and its contents straight into the fiery hearth, her tears running down her face. She watched as the edges of the box curled and blackened, and the contents slowly were lost to ash, but it wasn’t enough. The memories of what she had done, all of the horror she had caused, it still burned brighter in her mind than any fire would. There had to be a way to counteract this, a way to end it all. Death wouldn’t work; she had tried that and failed numerous times. No… she needed time with her thoughts. Time where she would be taken care of…
There was only one choice. Poofing up a small syringe, she sighed. It was better this way. They would all know she did it, and there wouldn’t be too much cause to worry.
After all, they all knew she was insane anyways.
With a slight wince, she plunged the medication into her hoof. She felt searing pain for an instant, then she went blissfully unconscious… and she stayed unconscious…
For a very… VERY… long… time…
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.
When The Past Is A Present (You'd Like To Return)
The nurses had been keeping Avalon informed of everything that was happening to her mother. It had been another day since Avalon had gone to see her. There had been no change, but there had been a small influx of mental energy. They had hoped that was a sign of her waking up, but…
Avalon sighed, putting down the rag she was using to clean the dishes and closing her eyes. She had already been through a coma with her mother. Pinkie had been knocked out by a demon that was trying to control her, and had been in a coma like state. At the time, Avalon had been pregnant with her first child, and had been married to her first husband, Flare. She shuddered even thinking about him. He had been a horrible husband, but he had been all she had.
The fact that she had known at the time that Flare was the best she could do tore at her heart.
Avalon felt warm tears fall from her eyes. What could she do? Her mother was in a coma, and the nurses didn’t know how long it would last. It could be a week, or it could be the rest of her life. Her father was still locked away in his room, even though Avalon desperately needed anypony, SOMEPONY to help her through this.
As though on cue, vines took a hold of her from behind, massaging her back lightly. She gasped and smiled. “Bristle…”
Behind her was the figure she knew well now, a pony by the name of Bristle. Through a horrible incident with a timberwolf, he had become a pony after… well, after being a tree. He was very calm, and he had been one of the first to come to her after she had broken up with Flare. He had comforted her and calm her, and genuinely helped her. Now they were married, and even had a kid.
He smiled at her, looking over the sunglasses he wore. “Avi, what’s wrong?”
She smiled slightly at his soothing voice and his massaging vines. It was nice to have a husband who could massage you at any given moment. “Other than mum being in another coma an’ dad locked up in his room, everything’s fine.”
Bristle walked closer and kissed her lightly. “Everything gets better with time, Avi.”
She nodded as he wiped away her tears. “I just wonder what’s going on in her mind…”
Bristle nodded and picked her up with his vines. “None the less, now is not the time for these thoughts. Come, we should go to bed.”
Avalon nodded, smiling at her husband. “I’m lucky to have you, Brissy.” He smiled at the nickname and carried her upstairs.
~*~*~*~*~
They were shouting again. The walls of the house were so thin, and every scream and every shattering of a plate or dish echoed through Pinkie’s head. She was 6 years old today. It was her birthday. Not that anypony remembered, of course. Her mother had been so busy working in the kitchen, she hadn’t seen Pinkie all day. Her sisters were old enough to work in the fields now, and they had gone out early this morning. As for her father…
“DIANE!!”
She winced, hearing him shout for her. He always was angry with her about something. This argument was between her father and mother. She didn’t want to interfere. Sadly, simple non - action was not an option. She heard a loud banging on her door. “PINKAMENA DIANE PIE, GET OUT HERE!”
Softly Pinkie stood and walked to the door. She opened it, only to receive a slap from the man standing there. She stumbled back slightly, but only from surprise and not from pain. Her face had grown used to the slapping from her father. Her hoof went to her cheek as she glared at her father. “Yes, dad?”
He held up a small grey doll, in the shape of her sister, Inkie. “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”
Pinkie frowned slightly, brushing her flat mane out of her face. “I-I thought I had put that awa-“ She was cut off as her father smacked her again, causing her to fall to the floor.
“HELL WITH THAT! ‘YOU THOUGHT’?! YOU DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT TO THINK! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT THE BASTARD DAUGHTER OF MY WIFE!” Pinkie flinched at his words, able to smell the alcohol on his breath. He had been drinking again. “I’VE TOLD YOU NOT TO LET YOUR FUCKING TOYS OUT!”
“D-daddy, I’m sorry, I-I just-“
“DON’T SPEAK! YOU HAVEN’T EARNED THE RIGHT TO SPEAK!” He held the doll in his two hooves and began to tug on the hooves. “THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO PONIES WHO DON’T LISTEN!” With that, he pulled apart the doll at the seams, splitting it in half.
Pinkie gasped as the two halves of Inkie fell to the floor, stuffing spilling out like blood. “NOW, YOU STAY IN THIS ROOM TONIGHT,” he father screamed at her. Pinkie adverted her gaze, knowing better than to look him in his eyes. “IF I SEE YOU AT ALL TONIGHT, YOU’LL WISH YOU WEREN’T BORN!” With that, he huffed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Pinkie sighed, tears in her eyes. She stood and looked in the mirror in front of her, dusty and old. She looked at her reflection, he eyes scanning her entire face and body. Her eyes already looked older and more mature than 2 years ago. Her mane was frayed in places from the small amount of rock harvesting she did nowadays. She saw flecks of rock dust in her mane and tail and sighed. She had tried to get rid of it often, but nothing got it out.
She brushed her flat mane out of her face, staring at her bruised cheek. The words her father had said echoed in her mind. “I’ll make you wish you weren’t born,” she whispered to herself, watching her tears roll down her face. “Bit late for that, Dad…”
Behind Pinkie stood the cloaked pony, unnoticed by the small filly. She was invisible in this place, she knew. She walked up to Pinkie and threw back her hood, revealing herself to be none other than the filly herself, though a filly who had lived through it all. The mare Diane hugged the little girl as best she could, her hooves going through the girl. “Don’t give up, Pinks. I know you can get through this… You have to get through this, because there’s worse to come.”
The filly only felt a slight breeze by her and looked behind herself. Nothing there. She shrugged, sighed, and went to bed without supper. Again. After all, that’s all bad girls got to eat, was nothing. She fell asleep quickly to fitful dreams of darkness and flames. That was all she dreamed of now.
When The Past Is A Present (You'd Like To Return)
Cutting At The Heartstrings
Avalon and her brother Zeamus sat at their mother’s bed side, their faces grim. Their mother still had no change through the night. Zeamus hung his head slightly, fearing the worst. Avalon had been refusing to speak about it at home, for fear of Obreon hearing anything. He was already a broken man. Still, they were alone with her now… “Av,” he said hesitantly.
She looked up at him, surprised at the quietness of his voice. It dawned on her that he hadn’t spoken these past few days. “Yes, Zeamy?”
“… What if she doesn’t wake up?”
Her eyes widened as he said this. “Zeamy, you can’t say stuff like that! She’ll wake up, I know i-“
“Av, I’m serious!” He stood and walked over to Diane, laying his hoof on hers. Pinkies face was blank as ever, her eyes shut and a peaceful smile on her face. Zeamus hadn’t seen her smile like that much in the past. For some reason, seeing her smile like that was horrible in his eyes. She shouldn’t be smiling like that when things had gone so wrong. “What if she doesn’t? We need to keep in mind that our mother may be DEAD for all we know. She hasn’t responded to any treatment, she hasn’t…” He cut off, trying to hold back his tears.
Avalon stood and walked up to him, hugging him tightly. She could feel tears stinging at her own eyes. “P-please, Zeamy, just… calm down.”
Zeamus finally caved in, sobbing into his sister’s chest as she held him. All of the emotions he had been holding back these past few days broke out of him like a dam. Seeing her, lying there, had shook him up. The fact that she looked so pale or the fact that through it all, she kept on smiling… Seeing her, just lying there…
Avalon gently stroked his mane, feeling her own tears roll down her face. “Zeamus… It’ll be alright… She WILL wake up. H-hell, she’s the one who DIED on us, Zeamus.”
He couldn’t help but laugh slightly, tears rolling down his face. “Y-yeah… G-guess she HAS died a few times…” With a small shaky sob, he laughed a somewhat broken laugh. “W-w-what’s a coma to a corpse?”
Avalon didn’t respond, instead just holding him. He kept crying, allowing himself to be held. Avalon was all he had at the moment – the only family there for him right now.
Finally the tears seemed to slow, both Zeamus’ and Avalon’s. They both dried their tears as best they could, glancing once more at their mothers limp form. Mum… Please, come back Avalon thought. Zeamus sighed slightly. “Come on, Av, we should get on back. Dad hasn’t had food in awhile.”
Avalon simply nodded and walked out with him, keeping a protective hoof around her brother.
~*~*~*~*~
It had been Blues birthday. Pinkie could remember it clear as day. Her sister, Blueberry, was turning 8 that day. That was the day Blueberry had been diagnosed.
Everything had been going so well. Pinkie had helped her mother bake a nice cake with blueberry icing. Dad had taken off work to set up a small party, having Blinkie and Inkie help him. Blue had spent all day in her room for some reason, but Pinkie didn’t mind. She loved making parties for her sisters. It was the only time each year when her father seemed to be in high spirits, and everypony else was happier because of it. Finally the sun set and Pinkie went to go get Blue.
She opened the door lightly, hearing the door creak. The room was dark and Blue was curled up on the bed, it looked like. How could she still be asleep? Pinkie slowly walked up to her, concerned. “Blue… you alright?” She gently went to lay her hoof on her sisters side to shake her awake, yet paused. The bed… why was the bed red?
Her eyes widened as the scent of blood reached her nose. Blue coughed softly and weakly, opening bloodshot eyes. Pinkie did all she could and screamed for her parents. Her mother got there first. She turned on the lights as Pinkie backed away to the wall. There was blood all over the sheets. Blue had been bleeding all day, but had been too weak to get up. Her father ran in, his eyes wide as well.
They had gotten her to the hospital fairly quickly. There, the nurses did what they could. They put her in a bed and talked to her parents. When they came back out, Inkie, Blinkie and Pinkie took one look at their faces and knew the worst.
“B-Blinkie… Inkie, Pinkie… Blue has cancer.”
The words stung. Pinkie didn’t understand death very well. None near her had died. Yet, the concept did not seem so hard to grasp at the moment. A bitter emptiness of which her sister would be taken harshly from her for no reason… yes, that sounded like what death was. Or maybe that was just the sadness talking.
Pinkie was allowed to visit her sister every so often. Her sister had lost her mane in the treatments, but she still smiled slightly as her sister walked in each time. Pinkie couldn’t believe it herself. How could somepony still smile when everything had gone so horribly wrong?
Pinkie thought about her sister a lot. She grew steadily older as Blue grew weaker. She also became determined. She would not let her sister go easily. She noticed Blue looked healthier when she was happy. She made it her goal to always make Blueberry smile and the plan seemed to work. Blue lived long enough to see Pinkie the day before Pinkies next birthday.
Pinkie had been very excited that day herself. She had woken up with her frizzy hair, not even caring if her father saw. She had been unnaturally happy that day as she went about planning a birthday party for later. She had everything prepared when she felt a flash at her side. She turned her head as her eyes widened, seeing on her flank a beautiful cutie mark of three balloons. She had been so happy, knowing that her true talent had been making ponies smile through parties and laughter. She went straight to the hospital to tell Blue…
… The body had already been moved from the hospital. Pinkie had always assumed her father had picked her up earlier without wanting to tell her. No need to ruin her special day, after all. Pinkie had come home and put away the things for the party, in no mood now. Her parents said nothing to her about Berry’s death, and Pinkie preferred it that way. Remembering how happy her sister used to be was painful. Anything reminding Pinkie of her was painful.
Pinkie walked to her mirror, brushing her mane flat once more that day. She looked into her own eyes, seeing her own broken heart in them. They said the eyes were the gateway to the soul. If that was true, then Pinkie didn’t like how her soul looked. Pinkie was 8 now… she felt older than 8. No 8 year old should have to go through what she has.
She brushed her mane out, trying to get the grey dust out. It sat on her hair like a plague, never leaving. She sighed and put down the brush, unable to tear her eyes away from her reflection…
She looked at her cutie mark. Another reminder of her… Pinkie despised her cutie mark now. It was another reminder of how happy Berry had been before…
Silently Pinkie moved through the still house. She had grown stealthy in her years here, able to navigate the house without making a sound. Her family was asleep, grieving for their loss. Pinkie walked to the kitchen and opened the cutlery drawer, pulling out a glistening knife.
Pinkie took the knife back to her room, strangely calm. For some reason, what she was about to do made perfect sense. It hurt her to see the mark now. It was another reminder of what she had lost. It had to go. She looked in the mirror, her eyes drifting between the knife and her bright, happy cutie mark. Slowly she began to bring the knife down to her skin, cutting it lightly.
Pinkie wasn’t ready for it. She winced and let out a small gasp as the cool silver touched and pierced her coat. She felt the warm trickle of blood down her flank, slow and small. She felt a small burning around the cut, annoying and angering. She just wanted it to go! She began to cut away more at her skin, roughly sawing at her coat. She couldn’t see what she was doing now, her tears blinding her. The pain was becoming unbearable. Finally she dropped the knife, her flank bleeding. She sunk down, sobbing, unable to complete her mission. Her cutie mark was still there, but now had numerous cuts through the balloons there.
Pinkie sobbed as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake her parents. What was she doing? Her cutie mark was all she had left of her sister and she was trying to cut it out of her life – literally. She weakly stood, wincing as her flank seared with pain. She felt blood splatter down her hooves as she walked to her dresser. She pulled out an old shirt and tore it up, using it as bandages. She wrapped up her flank and looked at the bloody knife. Well, that wouldn’t do.
She walked over to the blood pile, thinking. She needed some way to clean this up… There was no chance she could turn on the water. Somepony would hear… Gently she leaned down to the puddle. It could be worse… Slowly she began to lick up the blood, knowing this was the quickest way to get rid of it. At first shuttering from the taste, she soon grew to actually enjoy the metallic flavor. Something about how sweet it was rang alarms in her head that she couldn’t shut off. For some reason, her blood reminded her of… strawberries. Or maybe cotton candy? She quickly licked up all of the blood, leaving just a small stain on the floor where some had dried. She easily covered it up with an old rug she had.
She licked her lips as she glanced in the mirror. Her lips were stained ruby red from her blood… She rather liked the look of blood on her. It seemed to suit her. She gently poked at her bandages, testing the wound. It still burned and the bandages were already beginning to turn red from blood. That would hurt like hell for a few days… She could easily explain the cuts as a fall in the rocks. She would go out tomorrow and fall into the quarry, leaving the bandages somewhere. They’d take her to the hospital and get her sorted out. Yes, that was a good plan. Nopony had to know.
Gently she lay down on the rug, exhausted. She realized she had stopped crying… strange. She didn’t feel as sad anymore. She was alive… Blue was with her forever now. Berry would be with her forever, always at her side… Or, more directly, her flank. There was no need to frown… Everything would be fine… Slowly she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.
In the background of it all stood the real Pinkamena, tears in her eyes. She had forgotten this. She had forgotten what she had done in her grief and misery. It hurt her to see her do this to herself. She hadn’t quite expected this when she had gone under… “Please,” she whispered, surprised to feel tears staining her eyes. “P-please, Pinkie, be alright…”
~*~*~*~*~
In the hospital room the heart monitor beeped away as it had all night. The lights were flickering slightly, giving the coma ward a very grim light. The patients were silent as ever, and everypony had gone home for the day. In the third room on the right, down the hall, there was a single pink pony lying in a bed…
And that single pink pony wept in her dreams.
When The Past Is A Present (You'd Like To Return)
Avalon gently knocked on her father’s door. In her hooves was a tray of food, dinner to be exact. Avalon had grown fairly good at cooking. She put her ear to the door to check for her father’s voice. “Dad, I have food for you. I’m coming in, alright?” No response. With a small sigh, she walked into the dark room.
The lights were always off when she came in. She supposed he just hadn’t worked up the energy to turn on the light. Each time she saw him he was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking away from the door. Avi assumed it was because he didn’t want to look at the door she had walked out of. “Dad? I have some food…” Still no response. She sighed and put the tray of food down on the bed by him. She turned to leave.
“Avi, weit.”
Avalon turned quickly to her father, surprised. His voice sounded raw from lack of use, but Avalon could still hear her father’s accent shine through his voice. She looked at his face now that he was turned to her. He was unshaven and his mane was untidy. He looked as though he hadn’t slept this whole week. Still, Avi could see the green shine in his eyes that he always had when Pinkie was around. It was somewhere inside him. “Y-yes, Dad?”
Without a word, Obreon stood and walked to Avalon. He wrapped his hooves around her, hugging her tightly. She was surprised at first, but within seconds she felt tears in her eyes. She broke down in her father’s hooves, sobbing. “’Sarright, Avi… Sh’ll b’arright…” He stroked her mane lightly, holding her comfortingly. She kept crying, laying her head on his shoulder. “Evin 'f she's gun awey fer nao, Pinks'll alweys com beck, y'ave t'ave 'ope, Avi.”
Avi left out a sob, tears rolling down her face. “D-dad, w-what if she doesn’t?! W-what if she’s gone for good this time?!”
Obreon wiped away her tears lightly, smiling despite her tears. Avi couldn’t help but smile from his comforting. He dried the rest of her tears as she sniffed. “Pinki's nivar gone fer good, Avi. Not evin deth cood keep'er frum a dotter liek yew.” She smiled, feeling fresh tears sting at her eyes, but happier ones this time. Leave it to her father to help her smile. He grinned at her smile, getting some of his old sparkle back into his eyes. “Nao, wai dontcha git som rist? Ye've been werkin' yerself 'ard this pest week. Ay cin watch th'Inn fer t'dai.”
Avalon nodded, walking back to the door. She turned as she reached the door. “Thanks, Dad…” He nodded and watched as she walked out.
Shutting the door behind her, Obreon walked to the picture of his wife sitting on the desk. She was smiling in the picture and she looked happier than she had been in years. Obreon had always loved to see her smile… "Ples luv... pruve m'rite n' com beck sune.” He lightly stroked the mane on the picture, almost able to feel her soft mane through the picture. He sighed, smiling, sure she would come back. With a small smile, Obreon walked downstairs to look after the Inn for the day.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Pinkamena was 11 years old today. She didn’t really care how old she was, however. Age didn’t get rid of the scars. Criss crossing the young fillies flank were numerous cuts, all from ‘quarry incidents’. She also had scars on her hooves and chest, but none so bad as those on her cutie mark. Her sisters tended to stay away from her, scared that they would get caught in one of her ‘accidents’ where she had ‘fallen into the quarry and gotten injured’. Neither of them knew her late night activities, or her nightly drinking of her own blood. She’d grown addicted to the taste of blood.
Of course, after her father had found the scars, he had beaten her for being so clumsy by the quarry. She hadn’t been able to walk very good before that anyways, so walking hurt for awhile afterwards. Now, 3 years later, she was still being beaten. Her father beat her for quite a bit nowadays. Leaving her things out, forgetting to clean the house, and even just coming home late. Pinkie had grown somewhat used to the beatings by now, though. Eventually she had just lost feeling.
Pinkie glanced at the sun. Close to setting… She glanced at her sisters. They had all been working so hard today… and it was Pinkies birthday. Sure, her birthdays in the past hadn’t been at all good, but maybe this one was looking up. “Hey, Sisters, come on over!~”
Blinkie and Inkie looked at each other, thinking. They nodded to each other and walked over cautiously. “What did you want, Pinkie,” Inkie asked. Pinkie noticed dark circles under Inkies eyes and realized Inkie hadn’t been sleeping. She wondered how much of her late night blood parties Inkie had heard.
“I was thinking of going for a walk tonight… in the forest~”
Both the young mares eyes widened in fear. Blinkie shook her head. “P-Pinkie, Father said not to go into the forest… B-besides, it’s getting la-“
“WHO’S BIRTHDAY IS IT?!” Both mares flinched as the youngest screamed at them. Pinkie grinned, loving that she could command these two older ponies into doing as she wanted. They may be older, but Pinkie knew they feared her. They had seen her go mad before, having fits from voices in her head. See, they didn’t know what it was like to be feared.
Pinkie loved it.
She began to walk towards the forest. Blinkie and Inkie were forced to follow her, concerned for her well being. Further and further they strayed into the forest, going deep into the trees. Finally, Blinkie spoke up as the sun had fully set, leaving it dark in the forest. “P-Pinkie, maybe we should head back… it’s getting really dark…”
Pinkie turned to her angrily. “WHO’S IN CHARGE HERE?!” Blinkie flinched back. Pinkie grinned. “Now, we’re almost to the quarry. I want’d to show you all something.” Pinkie had set up a small party at the quarry one night. There were a few balloons tied to the trees and everything. She had wanted her sisters to come with her to the cliff overlooking the quarry. Today it would be flooded, and maybe they would be able to splash around for a bit before coming home.
Pinkie began to walk forward, but stopped when she heard Inkie scream at her from behind her. “Father says we aren’t supposed to go near you, you crazy bitch!” Pinkie froze, Inkies words ringing in her ears. Crazy…
“He… He called me…” She giggled slightly, hearing the echoing in her head. Father calls you Crazy… Crazy Crazy Crazy Pinkie… “H-He really… thinks I’m crazy?... M-maybe I need to SHOW him how Crazy I am…”
Inkie took a frightened step back as Blinkie cowered under her hooves, sobbing. Inkie was panting in fright, her breath ragged. She shouldn’t have spoken out of turn. “P-Please, P-Pinkie, don’t be mad! I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to say that! I-I’m y-your favorite sister, r-right? RIGHT?!”
Pinkie turned to them, eyes wide. She giggled, stomping her hoof on the ground to silence her sisters screaming. “S-s-sister,” she said, trying hard to speak through her laughter. “S-silly… I’m not Pinkie anymore.” She grinned. “Run.”
Inkie ran. She ran and ran as Blinkie cowered on the forest floor. Diane was unconcerned for Blinkies welfare at this point and walked slowly away, walking after Inkie. Meanwhile, in the background of the memories, the grown Pinkie watched, her face striken with fear… and regret. It had been a game… Demon Tag. One demon, many victims. The winning prize was a part of the victim. Typically, teeth.
The young Pinkie giggled, her voice ringing out in the quiet forest. “1…2…3… Demon coming for me… 4…5…6… Bear in mind her tricks… 7…8…9… Always following behind… 10…11…12… It’s the game that never ends~” Pinkie laughed suddenly, seeing a flash of a grey coat in the trees. She began to run closer to the grey coated mare, laughing, flecks of foam coming out of her mouth. She had lost all control. She was mad.
The grown Diane sobbed, seeing everything happen in slow motion. Everything she had missed when she was young. Inkie was running too fast… she had never seen the cliff. She stopped just in time… but Pinkie was going fast as well. With a slight, accidental push, Inkie went over the edge… to the quarry.
The young Pinkie caught her sisters hoof just in time. Her eyes were wide with fear. She hadn’t meant for this to happen! She had only wanted her sisters to fear her. If they feared her, then the pain would go away! They wouldn’t hurt her. B-but to lose her only sisters?! “I-Inkie, hold on! I’ve got you!” Pinkie saw Inkie sobbing. Her sisters tears infuriated her. “I-INKIE HOLD ON! JUST HOLD ONTO MY HOOF!” Pinkie gasped slightly as Inkie began to slip out of her hooves. She held onto her sisters hoof tightly, nearly enough to break it. “DON’T LET GO, INKIE! DON’T YOU DARE LET GO! I-INKIE, N-NO!”
Pinkie felt tears roll down her face as she heard her sister speak in a slow, tired, worn out voice. “I tried so hard, Pinkie… I tried so hard to be my best… No matter how hard I tried, though… you always hurt me… and now?...” Inkie looked up at Diane, tears rolling down her face… and a small smile there. Pinkie felt torn in two. H-her sister… Her sister was smiling… and it broke her heart. “I don’t want to play this game anymore.”
Both Pinkies watched… as their sister fell… down… down… down.
The quarry wasn’t as flooded as Pinkie had first thought. At least, it was shallow enough for Diane to hear the bones in her sisters body snap as the hit the rocks. It was deep enough, however, to carry her out to the middle of the quarry, the deepest part. Blood swirled through the water… and her sister was lost to her forever, beneath the murky waters.
When The Past Is A Present (You'd Like To Return)
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU MONSTER!?”
Pinkie flinched back from her father’s words, sobbing. “I-I didn’t m-“ She was cut off as her father smacked her harder than ever, making her fall to the floor. Her mother stood, watching, too afraid to do something. More proof of the power of fear.
“YOU DON’T FUCKING INTERUPT ME, YOU BASTARD OF A CHILD! YOU KILLED MY DAUGHTER.” Pinkie gasped in pain as he picked her up by her hair, tugging at her scalp. She was half limp, dragging against the floor. Anytime she tried to stand, she received another hard slap. Being smacked hurt worse, now that she was being suspended by her mane. Her father looked at his wife. “Go to bed, Victoria. Pinkamena here is going to learn where BAD ponies go.”
Victoria stood shaking, tears rolling down her eyes. “C-Clyde, t-think about this…”
“NO VICTORIA!” She flinched back, careful not to make any noise. “This is it, Victoria! I’m taking her to the shed!” Clyde roughly tugged Pinkie along, making her gasp in pain as he back ran across rocks on the way outside. She felt her back torn by the rocks, spilling her blood on the ground. She watched as the grey, cold landscape began to turn that glorious color of blood. She felt… hungry.
Her father dragged her to the shed where he kept his tools and threw her inside. She hit the back wall, a few hammers and nails and things falling around her. “STAY IN HERE… You filthy child…” He slammed the door, and Pinkie was plunged into the darkness.
Diane shook slightly, listening to the silence… and the voices that spoke in the quiet. Diane…. Diane, what have you done?... Now Daddy will make you pay… pay with your blood, Diane… Pay with your red, tasty, warm blood… Make Daddy happy… Diane closed her eyes for a minute… Just a minute to collect her thoughts.
Diane… Pay in blood, Diane… Diane… Diane…
“Diane~”
Pinkie opened her eyes in shock. H-her sisters voice… That was her sisters voice. “I-Inkie?!” Her voice cracked with emotion as she stood quickly. She turned to the window, too small to escape out of. And there, standing in the moonlight, was the broken, bleeding form of her sister, Inkie. “I-Inkie?! I-I killed you… H-how…”
Inkie smiled, putting a bloody hoof to the window. Pinkie saw the blood smear down the window… She was real… “Pink-a-me-na… I came Ba-ack… I came home to free you~”
Pinkie was swaying… she felt… blood. She licked her lips. Her nose was bleeding. How strange. She licked her lips again, savoring that sweet sweet taste. Blood was her domain… and her sister was covered in it. Her sister had come back for her master… her puppeteer. Pinkie grinned. “Inkie… let’s visit Daddy…”
You know- “What to do-“ –sister ~ Diane shook her head, the voices and her sister fading together into one. She felt so light headed… she giggled. She was Mad. It’s time- “To show them how much-“ you love them~
Diane laughed as the window shattered. She saw her sisters hoof bleeding, having smashed through the window for her. The real Diane saw, however, that it was the young Pinkies hoof that was bleeding. There was no Inkie. She was entirely insane. The young Pinkie crawled out of the window, getting glass flecks imprinted into her fur. Diane shut her eyes, unwilling to see her own past once more.
The small Pinkie, the little 11 year old filly, was insane. She saw her sister leading her to her parents room. She walked into the house in secret, able to walk stealthily. She overheard her parents speaking… and an ax being sharpened. “P-please, dear,” she heard her mother say. “D-don’t you think you’re being drastic?...”
“Go back to bed, bitch of a woman. This is for the good of the family…” Victoria nodded and backed away, unwilling to speak out against this man.
Pinkie heard the blade stop. She heard the ax being waved through the air, being tested out. She slowly walked back to the shed, thinking. Her father was going to kill her with that ax… for the good of the family… She giggled. “What family?~”
She unlocked the door once more and walked inside. She picked up the closest tool… a chainsaw. It wasn’t very hard to carry. It felt wonderful in her hooves. A machine she could use to get to that wonderful… WONDERFUL BLOOD! She laughed, feeling the power she held in her hooves.
She waited… and he came. The door opened inward… he never saw her in wait. He walked in, the ax by his side. His eyes widened as he thought Diane had escaped… and that’s when the chainsaw roared to life.
“You’re it, Daddy~” She giggled as she brought down the chainsaw, the voices and her sister cheering her on. She felt the chainsaw connect with her father’s neck, tugging at his skin roughly. He screamed in pain, dropping the ax. She pushed down further, her eyes wide with her lust for blood. Her father’s blood splattered against her face, and she licked it up happily. Like milk for a puppy , she thought. She kept pushing the chainsaw the furthest it would go, until finally her father’s head rolled away, leaving a trail of blood from where it rolled.
Pinkie dropped the chainsaw, looking at the carnage she had caused. The body was lying on the floor… The head had rolled far away. All the air smelled like blood… just the scent of it made Diane shiver in pleasure. So much blood… so much red~
“P-Pinkie…”
Dianes eyes widened as she turned, seeing her mother’s shocked face. Her mother was taking in the bloody form of her smiling daughter. “M-mom, I-i…”
Her mother smiled brightly. “Oh, my darling daughter… you killed that son of a bitch… I couldn’t be prouder.” Her mother reached down and hugged her tightly.
Pinkie stood in shock. Her mother… hugged her?... She remembered hugs… she used to get them, as a small child, before her father had come home. She gingerly wrapped her hooves around her mother and hugged her lightly, smiling. She… liked this. She licked her lips, and her mother saw her face of delight. “Oh? Do you like that taste, my lovely child?” Pinkie nodded, happy to finally have somepony to talk to… Somepony to love her. “Well then… let’s get to baking~”
~*~*~*~*~
“We’ve got bleeding!” Nurses ran in and out of Dianes room, all of their faces signs of alarm. Avalon sat in slight fear, being held by her husband. He held her comfortingly, trying to calm her down. Obreon was at home, looking after their children. Avalon watched the different nurses running frantically into the room, scared for her mother.
“She will be fine, Avi~” Avalon nodded and snuggled up to her husband, grateful to have him there to help her.
They could only sit and watch. Sit, watch… and wait.
A nurse came up to Avalon, Nurse Red Heart. “Avalon, we’ve stopped the bleeding for now. We… honestly don’t know what caused it.”
“W-what was bleeding,” she asked, worried.
“It started with her nose, and it got into her mouth. If we hadn’t gotten to her in time, she would have drowned in her own blood.” Avalon shivered, thinking of how close to death her mother had just come. “She’ll be fine for now. We’ll be keeping constant watch over her.”
Avalon was soon permitted to check in on her mother. She laid a hoof on her mothers, watching her. Pinkie seemed pale… Avalon guessed that was from the lack of sunlight. After this, her mother would have to get out more. Maybe a few walks with Avi and Bristle would help.
Bristle held his wife still, always there for her. Avalon sighed. “Please mum… You gotta wake up… this is killing you…” Bristle continued to hold her, eventually taking her home with him. Avalon was unwilling to go, but that was the way it always was.
Diane was always left to die alone.
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.
When The Past Is A Present (You'd Like To Return)
Pinkie shivered as she drew her flimsy cloak around her for warmth. She had mistimed her trip. She had been caught in the middle of a snowstorm on her way to Ponyville, and the pegasi had outdone themselves this time. The storm blew around her in a vicious frenzy, clawing at her fur with freezing wind. Her mane and tail had become tangled in the ferocious gale. Pinkie stumbled in the snow, falling to one hoof. She could barely see a foot in front of her. Everything was just white.
Blindly stumbling, she realized she had to be in town by now. Her stomach ached. She was used to physical labor, but she had never known how hungry a pony got after who knows how long of walking without food. She grimaced and kept walking, until a curious smell filled her senses.
Sweet... The air smelled sweet. It didn’t smell like blood, per say, but it smelled like cupcakes. She could differentiate the icing and the lovely baked fluffy batter, perfectly moist. Her stomach grumbled at the enticing smell. She began following it, trying to find where the smell was coming from.
She never saw the sign. That is, until she ran into it.
Pinkie gasped as she fell back into the snow, her cloak coming undone and allowing the cold to seep into her bones, chilling her to the core. She glanced up at the sign, teeth chattering. “S-sugarcube… Corner??” What a ridiculous name. At least separate the Sugar and the Cube.
She glanced around, squinting. She managed to make out a door. Standing weakly and shivering, she trotted quickly to the door, falling against it. Because of the added weight, the door opened inward faster than Diane could catch herself. With another small gasp, Pinkie fell into the bakery.
Warmth flooded over Pinkie as an orange stallion quickly shut the door. “O-Oh, sorry miss. Didn’t think anypony would bother trying to walk through that storm!” With a small laugh, the stallion walked over to her. Pinkie took him in, taking note of his baking outfit and such. She sniffed and her stomach growled. The man’s smile dropped as he realized how hungry – and thin – the mare before him was. “Oh, here. Why don’t we take you to the kitchen and you can grab something to eat?” He lightly leaned down to take her hoof.
Pinkie flinched back from the hoof, the orange stallion reminding her of another orange stallion in her life whose hoof had been rather dangerous to be around. She shook her head and tried to stand on her own, shaking. The stallion took his hoof back, growing more concerned with each passing moment. “I-I can walk on my own…” She smiled softly, trying to make the stallion more comfortable. The stallion merely stared at what Pinkie thought was a smile.
“Uh, alright Miss. If you say so.” The stallion led her to the kitchen. As Pinkie walked in, her eyes widened. Sweets, chocolates, baked goods – All that and more lay on the counter. “Take as much as you want, Miss. I should go tell my wife you’re here.” The stallion smiled at her. “What’s your name?”
“Pinka… Uh, P-Please, call me Pinkie. Pinkie Pie.” Pinkie decided quickly to use her rather childish nickname as a sort of alias.
“Alright, Pinkie.” The man trotted out to find his wife.
Pinkie gazed around at the different treats. She cautiously picked one up and nibbled on it. In a burst, her mane poofed up, somehow untangling. This was… This pastry was better than anything she had ever made herself. She munched it down quickly, her stomach grumbling as it sensed food. She ate a few other snacks, hungry as – she rolled her eyes at the pun – a horse. Her eyes spotted a cupcake on the table. I wonder… She bit the edge of it. Her eyes widened in surprise. It was sweet and tasty and full of flavor… and not one drop of blood. She knew the taste well, and this was not it. And yet… And yet, the taste of this cupcake was amazing. She savored each bite.
“Oh, hello there dear.” Pinkie jumped and flinched as a blue mare walked up behind her. She backed away from the mare on instinct, seeing not a cake baker, but her mother in that blue tinted fur. “It’s alright, dear. You’re safe here.” Pinkie felt somewhat calmed by those words. This couple may remind her of her parents, but Pinkie felt warm with these ponies. They smiled a lot, and their voices were as soft as the cakes they made.
“Um,” Pinkie said hesitantly, “M-may I ask where I am?.. I-I’ve traveled a long way…”
The stallion smiled. “Why, you’re in Ponyville. Our shop, Sugarcube Corner, to be exact.”
Pinkie couldn’t help but smile a tiny bit. “I came from down past the Everfree Forest. The old rock farm on Trotting Way.”
The mare’s eyes widened. “You’ve come all that way? Oh dear, no wonder you look so hungry. There’s nothing between here and there except that forest and rocks.”
Pinkie nodded. “I feel much better after eating your sweets. Please, let me repay you.” She reached into her bag to try and find the bits she had stolen from her mother and father’s stash.
The two ponies shook their heads in unison. “No need to pay,” the man said. “We’re a firm believer that those in need never have to pay.” Pinkies smile grew as she nodded, letting all thoughts of paying fade from her mind. The man looked at her questioningly. “Do you need a place to stay? There’s no inns around here…”
Pinkie nodded. “I was just planning on staying outside, but a home would be a nice change.”
The mare smiled brightly. “We have a room upstairs that we never use. We could easily make it into a room for you to stay in while you get back up on your hooves.”
Pinkie nodded. “Thank you very much, M’am.” She glanced around once, thinking. “I may also need a job… I’m pretty good at making cupcakes and other treats. I haven’t made any in a long time, though, and none like these.”
Both ponies smiled and the man nodded. “Oh yes, we could always use some help. We could give you 10 bits a day.”
Pinkie smiled her brightest yet. That was the most money she would have had in a long time. Still… She felt bad taking this couples money. She really didn’t need much money… “I couldn’t ask for that much. Why don’t I work for my room? Instead of money? That way, you all get a profit.”
Both ponies were surprised, but nodded. “We can’t really force you to accept our money, now, can we,” the mare said, laughing. “Well, welcome to Sugarcube Corner, Pinkie. We’re the Cakes.”
Pinkie thought a moment and determined they themselves were not IN the cakes, and that it must be their names. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Cake.”
Mr. Cake smiled and glanced at his wife. “Well, honey, why don’t you get started on the evening delivery, and I’ll show Pinkie her room.” Mrs. Cake nodded and walked to the storage area where they kept the special ingredients. “Come with me, Pinkie.” Together, Pinkie and Mr. Cake trotted upstairs. Pinkie memorized the route quickly, taking a mental tour. She saw the Cakes bedroom, which was rather large. Keeping track of where the bathrooms where and all the spare rooms – there seemed to be a lot -, Pinkie smiled as she entered hers. “Here you are, Pinkie. Hope you like it.”
Pinkie smiled and nodded. The room was nice, decorated similarly to the rest of the bakery. She thought for a minute and could imagine herself in a sort of friendly inn. Quite the imagination she had. “Thank you very much, Mr. Cake. I really like th-“ Suddenly, an alligator flew through the window.
Mr. Cake neighed in fright and Pinkie jumped. She had absolutely no idea what had just happened. She quickly trotted over to the broken glass. She would help fix it later, she supposed. She glanced at the alligator… He… just sort of blinked. Then he yawned and Pinkie realized he had no teeth. “How… random.”
Mr. Cake took some deep breaths. “Y-yes, how random.”
Pinkie leaned up close to the little alligator, getting a small gasp of worry from Mr. Cake. “You know,” she said with a tiny smile on her face, “he’s… actually kinda cute!” She picked him up, giggling a bit. “Aren’t yah, you little fella?” Pinkie nuzzled the little alligator lightly, giggling. She felt somehow giddy after eating all those sweets. Guess they use more sugar in place of the blood.
“Well, if you like him, why don’t you keep the er… ‘little fella’?”
Pinkie beamed, realizing she now had a pet. Oh, she had always wanted a pet as a filly! “Oh yes! I’ll keep him! Hmm…” She giggled. “I’ll name him Gummy. Cause he has no teeth.” She smiled and glanced in the mirror that stood in the room. Her eyes widened slightly at her reflection.
A pair of bubbly blue eyes stared back at her, along with a reptilian pair of purple eyes. Her mane was poofy as it had been when she was a child, most likely from the ferocious wind that blasted around the bakery now. She was extremely thin, but not too horribly bad. She was holding the alligator as a child would a stuffed animal, clutching it to her chest. She felt at home, and she looked like she was home. She saw Mr. Cake behind her, smiling softly at her reflection.
Smiling. That was what she had yet to grasp. She was smiling. She, Pinkamena Diane Pie… No… She, Pinkie Pie, was smiling.
And it felt wonderful.