When did I know I was not happy?
Celeiastia’s glorious sun began to rise over the small town of Ponyville, the sky painted in purples and pinks. In the small town a crake of light peeked into a tiny window on the second story of a small bakery. This room had belonged to the crazy party pony Pinkie Pie; the pink mare lay under green quilt with balloons on each. A small clock rang on a night stand crying out “Wake up wake up wake up silly sleep head come on get up!” Pinkie slammed her hoof down on the off button. Her eyes slowly opened and she rose form the bed, pinkie walked to her dresser where a mirror stood.
Pinkie looked at herself in the mirror her eyes outlined in dark circles, her mane lost a lot of it natural puff and looked like a soggy marshmallow. Pinkie reached down a pulled open a drawer slowly, she rummaged around entail she produced the thing she was after. A hot iron curler. After the metal had heated she began to curly her mane and tail. After completely curling her mane she pulled out a small square box containing make up she had not used entail a week ago. She stared at herself for a few seconds in silence.
“Pinkie Pie you are happy” She told the reflection “I am happy” She stopped giving her normal little speech to herself and looked down at her hooves “no I am not”
