What My Dark Half Is Telling Me
What My Dark Half Is Telling Me
Mud, sweat and tears. That’s all Applejack’s day seemed to have planned for her. As an added bonus, a bouncy ball of sugar-boosted pink annoyance was boinging around her.
Rolling her eyes, Applejack wondered just how much sugar one pony can eat before it starts to slow that pony down. Pulling a cart stuffed wall-bulging with apples for miles in the goopy mud wasn’t adding any length to her already smoking fuse.
The cart’s waist-strap was on just a notch too tight, so it not only made it hard to breath, but also bit into her sides. The sting of the chafing alone was about to drop-kick her patience over a cliff.
It’s not that Pinkie Pie meant to be annoying. If anything, that wad of giggle-fluff had one of the biggest hearts around. On any other day, Applejack might have been able to shrug off Pinkie’s cheerful silliness.
However, Apple Bloom managed to stomp on her big sister’s last nerve by trying to be a cutie mark crusader septic tank cleaner. Being such a little foal, she didn’t realize that you can’t scrub something that rancid with your bare hooves. The hospital bill was outrageous, but not surprising.
To top it all off, the last few apple crops at Sweet Apple Acres were more than a little skimpy, but the yearly expenses weren’t losing weight.
Normally, this cart wouldn’t be towed all the way into town, but she had to sell this over-sized load by day’s end, otherwise those bills might devour the household food budget for the upcoming winter.
Which is why Applejack wasn’t ready for little miss bonkers. Seeing your little sister’s body turn green put even easy-going Big Mac in a deep blue funk. Since it was Big Mac that pulled her out of the septic tank, he was also as green as an apple’s worm himself. Kids. They never know what kind of grief they give to others, do they?
And now a very large child was being just as clueless now. Except this one couldn’t be sent to her room.
“Hey!” squealed Pinkie. “How’s it going, Applejack? Huh?”
Was the cart getting heavier? Applejack replied, through gritted teeth, “This ain’t a good time, Pinkie.”
“Oooh, every time’s a good time for Pinkie time!”
The left wheel wobbled a little. Applejack could feel it. Half a mile more and she could stop at her stand and examine the wagon. If only the path was clear of tail-twitching sweet-tooths.
“Normally, I’d agree, sugarcube. Thing is, I gotta get to my stand.”
“Let me help! You got the pulling part down pat, so I’ll do the pushing! Okay? Okay! Let’s do this!”
Applejack groaned, and not just from the weight that made her weary legs tremble from overwork. Pinkie hopped behind the cart.
“Okie dokie! Let’s get this cart into high gear!”
The first lurch forward made Applejack stumble.
“Pinkie! Quit it!”
The cart was slammed forward a few more feet. Was that wheel getting even more slant-wise?
“If you can’t find ‘em, grind ‘em?” squealed Pinkie. “Right, Applejack?”
“Knock it off, dang it!”
The next thud sent the cart down the road a little further. What was that nutbar thinking? This cart wasn’t in the best of shape as it was and having that manic cupcake-muncher body-slamming it like an angry bull wasn’t helping Applejack’s oil-black mood. Her fuse was burning now.
“This ain’t helping me! Why can’t you....”
Another lunge sent Applejack’s legs sideways and her chin bounced off the cobblestones. Even with the sudden jarring making her senses loopy, Applejack could still hear a snap from the cart. When she tried to stand up, the cart’s waist-strap slammed her back down.
Getting twice-banged on the head made her vision bleary. Shaking her aching head to clear the grease away from her vision, she tried to reposition her hooves beneath her. Taking a deep breath, she stood up.
The cart was sideways. That stupid wheel had finally retired itself. And now her apple stock was tumbling out in all directions like a shiny red flood.
“Oopsie!” squeaked Pinkie. “Don’t worry, I’ll get ‘em. I can fix this! Be right back!”
“What? Wait a minute, dang it!”
Applejack craned her head around to the strap-buckle. As she released the catch, the belt slid off. Taking a desperately needed deep breath, Applejack trotted around to see how much damage Pinkie had caused.
More that she thought. The axle had snapped. The wheel was wobbling down an alley. Apples were being liberated by dozens of opportunistic ponies.
“Hey!” hollered Applejack, stomping her hooves. “Y’all gotta pay for those! Put ‘em down!”
Startled like roaches when the bathroom light is turned on, more than a few ponies frantically scarfed down apples and dashed off, leaving half-eaten apples and dust-trails. Her fuse had just about burned into the dynamite.
Once the dust had blown apart, Applejack got busy plucking what little remained of her precious stock into the cart. Granny Smith just might have a stroke when she hears about this, she thought. As if she hadn’t suffered enough this year.
“What’s the point of even tossin’ these apples into a busted cart,” she growled, as she sifted through the meager remains of the feeding frenzy. “Can’t move my stock, can’t budge my cart, ain’t nothin’ goin’ right! Everythin’ would have just fine if it wasn’t for.....”
“Heyyy!”
“Speak of the idjit.”
Pinkie had hopped up beside Applejack, bouncing on all four hooves. She was balancing a basket on her head.
“I’m really really really sorry about your cart! So I snagged a basket and grabbed as many apples as I could! Maybe snatched a basket is a better term.”
“Pinkie....”
“Nahh! Plucked is way better! Anyway, a bunch of ponies ran past me and dropped a few of your apples. Aaand that’s all I was able to get. So far.”
With flick of her poofy-haired head, the basket landed in front of Applejack. Pinkie pointed inside. At three apples.
Applejack closed her eyes. Her nostrils began to flare.
“Uhhmmm, Applejack?”
Three apples. Out of at least four hundred that were now either half-munched, eaten or squashed. That fuse had just burned into the dynamite.
“If you want, I can get extra baskets. I....”
Boom.
The basket was kicked so hard it smashed through a window. Shutters and doors were getting slammed. Ponies ducked into shadows. Even the birds canceled their flights.
“I don’t want any more frickin’ baskets, you dang fool! You trashed my cart!”
“I can get that...EEP!” Applejack slammed her head into Pinkie’s face so hard, their noses almost touched. The entire world became an angry pony’s blood-shot eyes.
“Don’t you have any self-control at all? When do you ever stop and frickin’ think for two seconds?”
“B..but Applej...”
“Shaddap! I ain’t done yelling at you yet! Thanks to you bein’....YOU, I can’t sell my apples! How am I supposed to pay my family’s bills now, huh?”
Pinkie was getting pushed backwards. She tried to stand up straight, but Applejack’s head mashed her to the ground like a bug under a shoe. Within a few feet, Pinkie was flat on her flank.
“Please! I can fix this! Just give me...”
With a snort, Applejack lifted one hoof and slammed it onto Pinkie’s left leg. Years of farm labor had given Applejack more muscles than most of the residents of Ponyville. That strength made the stomp on Pinkie’s leg feel like a crowbar had smacked her.
“I don’t want your help!” Applejack had backed away, but she was still stomping her hooves hard enough for Pinkie to feel the tremors. “I don’t want your stupid basket! I don’t even want to see you in my sights ever again! Now get out of here!”
Tears pillowed up in Pinkie’s large eyes. She then turned away and ran as fast as she could, limping a little. Even with her out of sight, Applejack could still hear Pinkie bawling. Everything had to be ramped up to eleven with her, Applejack thought. Even her sadness.
She was alone. Surrounded by ruined product with only a busted cart for company. Once the smoke had cleared from Applejack’s explosion, she thought about what she had said and done.
“Good gravy, did I really hit her?”
That freshly minted memory of her stomping Pinkie’s leg came back.
As lousy as her day was, it had just doubled in overall awfulness. Applejack thought about chasing down Pinkie, but she couldn’t just let the rest of the apples get stolen.
Picking up the rest of the undamaged fruit and tossing it into the cart, Applejack planned to go by Pinkie’s home at Sugar Cube Corner and apologize. It just might take the rest of the week to make up for this.
I actually stomped on my friend, she thought with a wince. What is wrong with me? And I thought she was the crazy one.
* * *
Sugarcube Corner was having the mid-week slow period, so noone, not even the owners, saw Pinkie dash up to her room and bolt the door shut.
Pinkie was only dimly aware of her own tears as she flopped onto her bed. Normally, she’d pull the curtains aside to brighten the room. The darkness suited her mood. She pressed her pillow into her face to muffle her screams. Applejack had a kick that could knock out a dragon. Her bruised leg still throbbed. Getting a face-full of angry pony only magnified the pain.
“Just wanted to help...” she heard herself say in the pillow-muffle.
Her body began to feel like a stone tablet. It must have been from the rush back home. But Pinkie could feel another kind of grayness creep around her like a fog.
Since her mind was set into a higher gear than anyone else’s, she sped through what happened with her friend a dozen times a minute.
Ah don't want you in my sights ever again!
Pinkie couldn’t even cry any more. She had run out tears and energy. Pulling the pillow away, she slid onto her back, staring into the darkness. No more giggling, no more smiles. Just silence and the dark. It was more familiar to her than she ever let on to anyone.
The last volt of energy Pinkie had saved up for the day slipped away and she fell asleep.
A few moments later, her eyes popped open. She was sitting in a pool of light. The ground was a dark grey that reached out into nothing but darkness. Dozens of rocks were scattered all around her. There were no stars in the sky. The cone of light didn’t seem to come from anywhere.
“Where am I?” Pinkie asked herself.
“You know where you are,” said a voice behind her.
A pony with dull pink fur and long flat pink hair walked past Pinkie. She sat down in front of Pinkie and stared at her with large critical blue eyes.
The pony remarked, “It wasn’t that long ago that you stayed here for a day. You also know who I am.”
“I...I do?”
“Yes. I am what you once were. And if you aren’t very careful, I am also what you might soon become again.”
Pinkie tilted her head to the side, like a dog hearing a new word. “What do you mean?”
“I’m you. Pinkamena Diane Pie.” She leaned towards Pinkie. “You and I need to have a little chat.”
“I’m dreaming this, right?”
Pinkamena shook her head. “Not exactly. I had to wait until you fell asleep before I could bring you back down here. Which means I still have a chance.”
“Uhh...I don’t get it.”
“Tell me, how much value do you think you have?”
“Huh?”
Pinkamena clopped one hoof on her face. Taking a deep breath, she said, “How much worth do you give yourself?”
“Uhm, well, I suppose I have...wow, I haven’t really thought about that.”
“No. No, you don’t. And that’s what makes you weak.”
“What are you talking about? How am I weak? I’m an element of harmony. Laughter is what I do.”
“Really?” Pinkamena got up and began to pace around Pinkie. “How many snickers were you giving out when you thought your friends didn’t want you around any more?”
Pinkie waved away her comment with a flip of her hoof. “Oooh, that was just a big misunderstanding! They were just planning a surprise party for me and they didn’t want me finding out, that’s all.”
“Yeah? If that’s all there is to it, then why did you fall so far and so fast? One day of rejection and you ended up down here. The deepest, darkest pit of your despair. Noone gets that depressed that quickly unless they are already screwed up in the head. You fell down here even faster when Discord put the whammy on you.”
Pinkie stood up and snorted. “That’s not fair! Everyone except Twilight Sparkle turned into their opposite selves in a day. I bet they don’t have people like you in their heads.”
Pinkamena gave Pinkie a mirthless grin. “Man, you don’t pay attention to yourself at all, do you? You spend so much time outside your own head, it’s no wonder you didn’t recognize me.”
“You said you were my past self.”
“That’s right. I’m also your other half. Your dark half.”
Pinkie blinked and then peered at Pinkamena with slit-eyed suspicion. “Hey, are you trying to take control of me?”
“I don’t have to. A little bit of negative stimulation applied in just the right place sends you flying back to me. That’s why we’re talking.”
“I don’t get it.”
Pinkamena rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I see everything that you do and say. All those weird little non-sequiters, the wacky randomness, the comical props you seem to pull from a hidden bag of many-holdings. All that silly stuff. That’s not all you are, but that’s what you want everyone to see.”
“Are you saying I’m a phony? If I was faking my happiness, then someone would have spotted that by now, don’t you think?”
“Applejack wasn’t amused, was she? She hit you. Yelled at you. If what you had done to her cart happened outside Ponyville, she might have stomped you purple.”
Pinkie’s eyes bugged out. “She’d never do that!”
Pinkamena chuckled. “Her dark half would have. I saw it in her eyes. Darkness is an old friend of mine and I saw it rising in her.”
“Well, okay. But that’s only because I busted her cart. I got a little carried away...”
“A little? You never do anything little. Everything’s got to be big and explosive and happy happy happy with you, right?”
“I bet that when I wake up, she’ll be knocking at my door with a fruit basket, begging for forgiveness.”
“You think you know Applejack. But you don’t. Noone ever really knows anyone else. Not as much as they’d like. Noone knows about me. Except your family.”
Pinkie looked away from her, pawing the dirt. “Can you leave them out of this? Please?”
“Awww, am I getting too close to the truth? Poor, poor pitiful you. Here’s what I’m trying to hammer into your thick skull. I have more self-awareness than you do. Only in someone like you is that ever possible.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you know what the word autistic means?”
Pinkie shook her head.
Pinkamena studied her face and saw a twitch in Pinkie’s eyes. When the faded pink pony smiled like a mortician at a train-wreck, it made Pinkie’s back shiver.
“Never lie to me, kid. I know all the facts you struggle to hide from. Until Rainbow Dash’s sonic rainboom blew across the sky years ago, that word once described you. In those days, there was just me in here. For years you were as dull and as lifeless as the stones your parents farmed. Something else was getting sowed as well.”
“And what was that?”
“Madness, of course. When that rainboom swept overhead, you popped up. A brand new Pinkie Pie, who only wanted to smile forever. One little problem. I was still in here. I got demoted and you took over. It’s too bad you can’t seem to steer this boat right.”
Pinkie giggled. “Oookay! Now I know I’m only dreaming. There is no way there can be two of me in the same body.”
“Really? Don’t you remember those fake birthday party guests I built and then talked to when I had Gummy’s party all by myself? Even I was amazed with that idea. If Rainbow Dash hadn’t dragged me away from that loonypalooza and into that surprise party your friends made for you, then dear, sweet Pinkie Pie might have returned to a bloodbath. ”
Pinkie stamped a hoof. “I could never hurt my friends! Ever! Not Rainbow Dash, not anyone!”
“Sure you could. If I was left in charge, that is. All this here?” Pinkamena waved her front hooves at Pinkie. “This is a mask. Something you want to be so you don’t go back to being me.”
“Why are we still talking about that?”
“Because, you idiot, you aren’t living your life right. You want to make other people feel joy, to add value to their lives. What you don’t understand, or don’t want to understand, is that you have to put value on yourself. You have such low self-worth, that when things don’t go according to plan, when you don’t turn those frowns upside-down, you end up here and I step up to the plate.”
“And that’s what makes me weak? That I don’t think of myself?”
“You like to help people? Help yourself first. Normal people have inner strength to fall back on in times of stress. All you have to fall back on is me.”
“If you are my dark half, my evil side, then why are you trying to help me?”
“Because I know us better than you do.” Pinkamena sat down in front of Pinkie, her flaccid hair draped over her eyes. “We do have one thing in common. We both want to be loved. You know how to give it. All I can ever do is take it. If you let me go back up there again, all I will ever do is hurt people. Don’t you get it, Pinkie?”
Pinkamena lifted her eyes to Pinkie’s face. Tears were trickling down the grim pony’s cheeks, her brows crinkled. “Everyone loves you. But noone could ever love me! Only you can move forward in your life. All I would do with your life is destroy it."
Pinkie pondered this. After a moment, she nodded.
“That’s why I’m Pinkie Pie. Because I don’t want to be Pinkamena Diane Pie."
“Yeah? And?"
“As long as I remember that, as long as I can bear in mind where I’m from and what I used to be...."
“Uh-huh?"
“Then....then I’ll know better than to come back here. I remember now who I once was. No offense, but I don’t like her very much. That’s why I’ve spent my time outside my head. I didn’t like what I saw inside.” Pinkie shrugged. “But I guess even my dark half isn’t so bad.”
“Be careful, kiddo.”
“Oh, you know what I mean. Okay, I promise I’ll never forget who I am. Or who you are. Or even what I could be.”
It didn’t really surprise Pinkie when Pinkamena suddenly wrapped her front legs around Pinkie’s neck. She had that effect on people. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear from you, Pinkie. Thanks for listening.”
Pinkie patted her old self on the back. “I hope I made you smile.”
Pinkamena could only nod as she let go. Pinkie saw a faint grin as her old self wiped away her tears. The light above them began to dim.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“It’s time to wake up, Pinkie.” answered Pinkamena. “Then again, you already have.”
Then there was darkness. Then slivers of light around the curtains of Pinkie’s bedroom. A sharp knock on her door brushed away the bleary fog.
“Pinkie?” said Applejack. “Listen. I am so dang sorry about what I said to you. And hittin’ you.”
Pinkie fumbled for the bed-lamp switch. As it flicked on, Pinkie dashed to the door.
“Sugarcube? You there?”
Applejack was suddenly smothered by warm fuzzy pinkness. Her hat bounced along the floor as Pinkie Pie swarmed over her. It took a moment for Applejack to realize that Pinkie was unusually quiet. A powerful hug around her waist made Applejack’s eyes bulge. After a few moments, they separated.
“Whoof! That’s a powerful bear-hug! How’s your leg doin’?
“Oooh, who cares about my silly old leg? I got three spares! Maybe four, I dunno.”
And she’s back, thought Applejack, this time with a smile.
“Applejack, I really am sorry about your apples and cart. I’ll dig into my piggy bank for a new wheel.”
Applejack waved away the offer as she reached for her hat. “Ain’t needed. Granny Smith passed the hat around. The cart and the apples are gonna get replaced in a few days. Nothin’ to it.”
“Yeah! That’s terrific!”
Applejack’s ears flattened as she looked into Pinkie’s eyes. “I am well and truly sorry about how I treated you. I just wasn’t myself today.”
“I know the feeling,” whispered Pinkie.
“What?”
“Nothing!”
“So apart from your leg, how’re you doin’?”
“I’m okay. I just had to do a little soul-searching.”
“How did that go?”
“Pretty good. I found half of it.”
Applejack almost asked Pinkie what she meant, but scratched that off the list. Pinkie’s going to be Pinkie. Nobody understood her better than her.
“All this apologizin’s makin’ me thirsty. Let’s get a drink.”
“Okay!”
Deep in the pit, Pinkamena rested her head on a rock and watched her better half reunite with her friend. This time, a little wiser than before. Pinkamena could never really be free of her prison of rocks and dirt, an imprint of the bad old days on the rock farm. But that doesn’t mean anyone else had to suffer here.
The past lives in me, she thought. But only Pinkie should have a future. Pinkamena had never been so happy to be left alone. Hopefully, she prayed to Celestia, alone forever.
The End
