At the crack of dawn a radiant beam of light illuminates a room. You’d be inclined to believe this room belongs to a child, why with its white painted wooden bedframe and furniture. Not to mention childish purple shag throw rug on the teal-ish hard wood floor, pink walls, you get the idea.

But no; this was not a filly’s room. It belongs to Ponyville’s very own Pinkie Pie, an element of Harmony! Specifically she was the element of laughter. That was until a curtain unnamed princess harnessed the power of the elements into a single ambulant and took off.

(I know right? I feel like that shouldn’t make sense, like she can’t remain the bearer of elements without her friends! It’s like a pizza made only with bread, it just wouldn’t work!)

Anyhow beyond the Heavy wool blanket there I resided. To the same sore tone I’ve been waking up to ever since Princess Backstabber abandoned us; or at least me.

I can taste it, dried blood and drool. It taste dirty, negative, I immediately spit into a trashcan beside my bed… lady like I know. I can’t help it, it’s coming up on autumn and I wake up with a dry mouth and chapped lips.

I sit up straight, same routine; roll out of bed, do a small stretch on the floor, make bed, wish I was still in bed. Did I mention I’ve been feeling more fatigued lately? The past couple of weeks I’ve had Mr. and Mrs. Cake walk in here repeatedly to wake me up.

They’re usually pretty nice, at least when it’s non-shift hours. When it is, they’re meanies; I can’t help being tired! I’ve tried going to bed earlier but that never really helps you know? I don’t think I’m physically tired to be honest, I’m pretty sure it’s something else.

I trot over to a mirror I have hanging on my wall, a big one. I can see it, every imperfection in my mane, these bags under my eyes, I look exhausted. No one seems to care anyway, as long as their jester can perform they see me the same way as always.

I walk over to my closet; fancy dresses, shirts, saddles, scarfs, and yet nothing that interest me. My closet tends to be pretty vacant, just my cloths, a couple of boxes of toys, stuffed animals and other belongings of mine. I’m not sure why I bother looking at my wardrobe, I never like what I see.

Then there is this box. My mother gave it to me before I came to Ponyville, all it contained was a letter from her, a lock of my old hair, and some bits. I never thought about removing any of this stuff, or spending the bits. My mother always meant a lot to me, even if she was a little bit too judgmental and bland.

Oh well, I kicked the box back into the closet. Its faded black coating vanished into the shadows along with the clothing. My best friend Rarity has been urging me to be more elegant, I usually don’t write or really speak like I am now but it’s a process she says.

I don’t really care much about fashion, but I do if Rarity wants me too! I care about her and I’m sure she needs me as much as I need her… I hope she needs me.

After another 2 or 3 loud toned yells from downstairs I finally make my way to the kitchen. I swear the smell of cupcakes in the morning; it almost makes me want to smile… almost.

Mr. Cake walks up to me and gives me a hug, “Hey Pinkie, glad to see you could make it out of bed today”. I stay silent.

Mr. Cake slowly backs away from me as I remain still with my same emotionless expression. He starts adding some milk to a measuring cup as he avoids eye contact with me. Keeping his same goofy composter he ask, “Pinkie, could you head to Cookie’s General store for me? I know its short notice but we really need flour!” I remain silent.

Him and I lock eyes again for a second, “Pinkie dear is something wrong”.

( Yes I don’t know what though.)

My lips quivered a bit, “No, not at all, I’m fine. Say would you mind if I could have a few extra bits?”

He pauses for a moment, I can tell. There’s a good second of silence before he breaks from his trance, “Yeah, yeah… sure. Anything for you Pinkie!” He hands me the money. Grabbing my saddle bag from the bell hook I trot out door.

I notice the stares, they cut my soul. I keep a fake smile dimly lighted by the friendship I used to try so hard to maintain. It’s pathetic really; my poor efforts are still effective and Ponyville seems to smile.

I sat down on the outer rim of a fountain in the middle of one of the intersections that divides Ponyville’s roads. I notice it; the stallions and mares foot by foot, kicking up dust in a meaningless struggle to make to places on time. The colts and fillies are what I really think are funny though. They’re so out of place, interrupting a world build for adult ponies, breaking rules because they’re obligated not to know better.

My head goes dizzy and I fall from the backwards head first into the fountain. I hear the nearby ponies’ giggles, I want to cry but instead I just stand up with a half-smile and back out of the crowd that has formed awkwardly around my orbit.

I ran out of the scene, knocking over one of the stallions in the process. They yelled for me to get back there, I just keep running. I knew my direction though, prancing forward a within an hour I found myself inside my Pal Cookie’s store.

Cookie is a timid guy, but friendly. He’s actually about my age, a year or two older maybe but young looking non-the-less. Occupied cleaning the front counter off I wave a hoof and display an awkward smile.

He sets down the glass and his smile turns the corners of his muzzle up for, “Oh, heya Pinkie! I didn’t recognize you there for a moment! Long time no see!”

I walk up to the front counter setting my rump on the floor I begin speaking, “Oh, it’s been…”

(Terrible, Exshausting, Painfully Bland)

“Alright” I mutter under my breath.

Cookie walks from the counter and put’s his hoof around my shoulder, It was firm. Cookie beneath his Blue coat and yellow dough colored hair was actually a pretty stellar athlete. I dig myself subtlety into his embrace, It feels… calming.

He turns his head to the right deadlocking eye contact with mine, I swear I lost it. I tried keeping cool though, “Umm… Cookie you got any flour”

Cookie cocked his head to the right, seemingly breaking his own train of thought he muttered, “Oh yeah, sure!”

Like a little stalker I observe his every movement towards his makeshift storage shelf. Then I felt it, a cold draft blowing through the store door; another customer.

It was the librarian that took over Twilight’s former sanctuary, ‘Rose-Pedal’ I think her name is. Real timid like Fluttershy, she weakly muttered, “Uhh… Cookie would you please get me some… some…” She glared into my eyes doing a bit of a hop in the process. Poor filly, I don’t think she noticed me when she walked in.

The red maned mare stuttered, “I um… I’ll be back for….” The timid mare bolted out the doorway.

I turned my head confused towards Cookie, hovering his right hoof over his mouth he watched her dart blankly into the street.

I clopped my hoof down, “Cookie, the flour?” Cookie smiled at me “Oh yeah, sorry she’s been expecting something I’ve ordered…”

I once again had to snap Cookie out of his transcended gaze on the doorway. Repeatedly I called out his name. I swear he’s so off sometimes, it worries me.

He reached towards the back cabinet and got out a 5 pound bag of flour, “Sorry Pinkie, that customer and I were supposed to talk about something, um… special?”

I wasn’t amused at all. If you looked at my face, it was a god damn unamused face. I wish it stayed that way. I felt it, my face started to burn with some intense displeasure. I wasn’t worried or embarrassed but regardless emotions got the better of me!

I subconsciously started talking to him dumber, or with less fluency in my voice I guess. I was such an idiot.

“Hey cookie, what’s um… Uh has your day been busy today?”… My exact words to him, like what was my mind doing?! What was I thinking?!

I think Cookie ignored that awkward expression, or maybe better yet he didn’t hear it? Regardless he handed me the flour, said it was on the house. That was courteous of him.

Sadly though I didn’t think my plan through all the way, the 5 pound of flour lay heavily in my saddle bag on the right side so I had a bit of a wobble to my step. I only weigh like 75 pounds; needless to say our young heroine was not having a fun time.

By the time this mare came home it was around noon-ish like I was supposed to be! By that I mean 2 a’ clock… I was out too long, lunch rush was over and boy; did I hear about it!

Mr. and Mrs. Cake scolded me relentlessly for being late. They never said a word to me directly about it, but I could tell! Their eyes, their unamused smirk, the way they stayed silent for an entire 2 hours before they politely told me to take the day off.

I walked slowly to my bedroom upstairs, inching up those tasteless white pearls stairs I felt the heat intensifying in my body and my head’s vision getting a little bit slower paced.

In the center of the upstairs is a square hardwood floor space, coming up the stairs from the south side you come upon four doorways. The bathroom on the east side, the master bedroom on the north side, and two guest bedrooms which share company on the west side.

I feel the cold floor heighten my senses, a dry sensation from the air conditioning unit kept my overwhelming heat at bay.

Steping a few feet forward I open the doorway to my bedroom, my bedroom… It was the same as ever, but I’m starting to question everything in it.

The childish colonial style furniture, the modern filly rug, the pink wall with turquois and white cupcakes painted on it. I close the door locking it behind me, doing a small trot and hop I land on my bed. My bed was no better than the rest of the room; a light pink fitted sheet under a darker pink top sheet.

The icing on top of the cake was the blanket. It’s this heavy slick cotton checkerboard pattern of alternating; light blue squares’, with dark pink balloons; and teal squares’ with light pink balloons.It’s quite a foalish blanket, but in a strange sense it’s also the most comforting piece I have in my room.

I don’t rest under it, rather I sink into it. It’s nothing I can control, I’m not tired enough to sleep which is odd because I certainly was like 6 hours ago when I woke up! Ugh! I hate myself, well at least my body. It’s like I’m not even in control of myself sometimes, falling into the water fountain, what impulse caused me to do that?

I lay there silently gazing at my ceiling fan in awe, the power switches slight tinging on the side of the fans’ main contraption sooths me for a moment.

I grab a small notebook of the side of my bed and open it up. I used to sketch in it a lot when I moved here, when I first moved into this room that is.

I didn’t right bother checking the old drawings, what’s there to see anyway. I pick up a nearby pencil in mouth and start chiseling away at the paper surface. I managed to complete a good outline of the Apple families Barn before I heard it, snap! The pencil lead broke off.

I don’t bother finding a sharpener; I doubt anyone in this family would care for me to have one.

So I set out of my doorway and which a few swift steps of my hoofs I made it into the cakes nursery. It’s quite, not a single sound but a genital snoring coming from Pound and Pumpkin.

I decided to sneak a peak of the resting twins; they’re so cute! The way their stomachs lightly rise the silk thin blankets a top of them, the way Pumpkin puckered on the pacifier in her mouth every couple of seconds, it makes me want to ‘d’awh’ but I don’t want to disrupt their napping…

Searching around for a bit, my eyes came across a small yellow box of crayons. Pacing towards them I observe what they are laying on top of, a white bed stand used to hold a small lamp just like the one by my own bed… brilliant.

Could Mr. and Mrs. Cake been any more inconsiderate? It took me a minute to realize this but l just realized the craftsmanship, it was the same crafter as the one that designed my own furniture.

I don’t know why that irritates me so much, maybe Mr. and Mrs. Cake knew the owner of the furniture store and maybe did as a favor. Whatever, it’s not important.

With a quick swoop the crayons were in my hands. Egh, am I seriously going to use crayons? Yes I am; they’re all I have to use… sadly.

I tip toe out of the room using my stealth to shield my clumsy nature. I open the door tripping over my two front hoofs I accidently did a barrel roll into the hall way.

I should the door silently but crashed into Mr.Cake who had apparently just come to check up on me. Worst of all had to be the mess I caused. On top of the fact I just table topped Mr.C, I also managed to spill like at least 80 crayons on the floor. I don’t know why The Cakes would buy so many crayons for foals anyway, seems kind of short sighted.

Standing on my two hoofs in a poor attempt I try to balance myself to regain my posture.

Mr.Cake had a bit of pented up fury in his eyes, more so than earlier. With a slight anger under his voice I heard him hold back a scream, he seldom exclaimed “Pinkie. I want you to clean up this mess, I want you to return the box of crayons, and I want you to stay in your bedroom!”

I tried to interject, “But Mr.Ca-“

He put his hoof on my mouth, “I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to hear you! If you want to continue to intern her I suggest you stop acting so foolish and step up your act!”

I stared at him for a moment. I wanted to cry but I have to stay strong, I have to preform my obligations, I-I… I cried.

With no false shame I fell onto his figure, like a daughter pleading for forgiveness I yelled “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

I could feel it, his body tightened up. I think he felt bad; he hugged me back in this awkward semi-sympethtique manner and pushed be onto my backside gently.

In an almost sorrowful manner he sighed, “Pinkie, please Honey just go to your room? I’ll get you something to eat but please just stay in your room.”

(Are you kidding me? I’m not one of your little foals! I’m an intern, an apprentice; what I really am is offended, I’m not a foal, I’m not a foal!)

I mutter under my breath, “Alright…” as I wipe away my tears.

Wasting no time I found myself sloppily sweeping up the crayons with my hoofs, I grab a dozen of them at a time and start plundering them into the box. By the time my accident was fully cleaned up Mr. Cake was already down the staircase, my hoofs were covered in dust, and my tears made my face blush.

I trot back into the Twins nursery, walking back over to mine- oops! I mean the look alight bed stand I set the box of Crayons back down on the table. I stole some of the crayons from the amounted stock pile of them in the box.

I know stealing crayons may seem dumb but I rarely have anything to draw with and I’m hoping drawing this photo makes me feel better about AJ’s departure.

In a few quick moves I managed to make it in and out of the Twins room without a hitch, I don’t know how they’re still asleep. So much noise, and distress, and they- they just sleep it off like it never happened... lucky I’d say.

I made it through my doorway; back into my bed room and back onto my bed. Not before I close my door gently though, I really wouldn’t want to disrupt Mr. and Mrs. Cake after all. They’re jerks to me sometimes but I can see why, between three children it really is a hand full isn’t it?

That’s what I am to them right? A filly? Just look at me, I’m lying in my bed looking outwards at the buzzing little bee’s that make up Ponyville. Clock in, clock out they symbolize what defines a functioning society.

Then there’s me, a growing mare lying on her bed waiting for a either sleep or death to take me under. I’d welcome them both by this point.

Meanwhile I’m stuck between here or nowhere. My friends are nowhere to be found and I can’t afford to move out, let alone buy myself some decent furniture or blankets. I save what little money Mr. and Mrs. Cake give me to throw parties for my friends, If only I had any.

I think I actually have a decent amount of money saved up, maybe I’ll pay Cookie another visit next chance I get.

I can’t worry about it too much; it makes my brain hurt, and confused, and no! I nuzzle myself into the layers of blankets that lie heavily bearing down on the bed below.

I pick up the journal and with the some few colors I had at hoof I start coloring away. Take my word for it when I say this sketch isn’t anything noteworthy. It’s a solid pinkish barn with a shaky foundation, an orchard of trees that stand bearing over the poor thing, and applejack and her family are nowhere to be seen.

Atleast the colors are pretty loyal to their original intent, except the barn. The barn was a creative design choice, something an artist would do, right?

I dropped the notebook, it’s a lost cause. A fools game, it makes so much more sense to lay in bed gazing at the ceiling fan then to attempt the drawing again right?

I hear a knocking at my door, Mr.Cake walks in with a lettuce sandwich. He sets it on my colonial white bed stand and sits at the far edge of my bed putting his hoofs in his lap.

He gives me an awkward smile, oh boy I can really tell he feels bad about my little mis-hap earlier with the crayons. He tries to avoid eye contact, as do I; I’m just as much at fault as he is.

The pastry king himself claps his hoofs together and stairs at the hideous purple rug of mine, “Now Pinkie, you probley are thinking that this is about the crayons right?”

“Well Duh!” I reply in my most sardonic of tones.

Mr. Cake swallows, “Pinkie I’ve noticed you been… how do you say? A little bit less like Pinkie Pie”

(What does that mean huh? Am I just a clown to you? A little upbeat, slack jawed lackey at your disposal? I have feelings, and I feel like I want to be alone right now! My friends moved on and I can’t, I don’t want to, but I’m trying to!)

“Uh-huh” I reply.

He looks me dead in the eye, “I just think you might want to take the week off to do other things outside of the backers. I know you’re not quite a mare yet so I think it’d benefit you if you had some free time away from our business.”

I shifted my eyes at my blanket and frowned. I wanted to give him a hug and cry but I wanted to remain calm.

He could tell how I was feeling, he gestured me to give a hug. I gently sat up and opened my arms.

Him and I sat there for a moment, he was giving me a genuine hug unlike the false one he attempted an hour ago. I watched him regain his posture as he sat up and did a small hop off the bed. He quietly paced himself out the door, turning his head one last time to see if I was still watching; I was.

He closed the door behind himself. I stared on the window observing the cool night sky, my hair fell down in front of my face, the humidity must have dropped.

I stare a moment longer before turning on my back and pulling my covers over my body. I allow for the warmth of my foalish cupcake décored blanket to enrapture my body in warmth. I shift around a bit underneath I can’t escape it, it feels calming to me.

I give in allowing my head to collapse into the pillow, with the realization of what Mr.Cake said come into full effect.

I hug myself for warmth, I really wish I had a stuffed animal to hold on to, I start sobbing as attempt to relax my muscles more, “He noticed, someone notice.

I’m done writing for today…- Pinkamena Diane Pie

Author's Note

-So yes, this is the very first chapter in another side series I'm doing!

-It's worth noting that whenever something is in parenthesis, that means it's pinkies own thoughts.

-This story will cover more of a darker side of 'infantalism' but won't delve to deep into it until a bit later into the story.

I hope you guys enjoyed the story so far, Suspect a new chapter within 5-10 days! - Oliver_England