In a sudden gasp of breathless nightmare, a pink haired, blue eyed, fluffy filly sat up from her raggedy, brown bed. That pony was me, Pinkie Pie. I searched the confused room and felt the sweat drip from my face. Where was I before I was here?
My head throbbed in a short moment of agony and I plunged back onto my pillow as a flashback overcame my body:
Everything is a weak blur of orange and black. I hear screaming, my sisters? Whimpering. "Pinkie wake up!" My mother calls, I try to touch her, to call to her, to answer her longing calls, but I have no control over my body.
My body sits up without any control of me, and I feel myself in pain. Can I even remember their names?
One more I sat up, in a hot, sweaty fuss and a spasm of comfort. This time, the ponies that had taunted me so during my short time had mostly vanished from their beds, only a few left behind to sleep in.
It was curious, as most of the time I would hear them awake, even during a flashback. Perhaps this one morning they had all been made to be quiet, that was not unlike the woman who owned the orphanage, an orphan herself, clearly scarred by the disturbing memories, she is a pale brown and has beady eyes that, like an ancient painting, followed you around the room, almost an illusion, as it seemed her pupils did not move at all. She was an angry woman, who would often decide to change the rules out of the blue, but they would fade and disappear after a couple of days,
I clambered carefully from my tall bed, and down the rusty steps that would rattle every hoof I placed on it. I slowly invited the light into the darkened depths of the room by slowly opening the creaking door, suddenly I felt something hard and round hit my face. I watched it rattle to the floor and bounce around, like a fish out of water. I settled it, the way I placed my hoof in an agitated lake to calm it.
A rock?
I looked up and saw a small colt standing looking menacing. My poor eye sight beaconed me to investigate the boy, as to know who he was, and what possessed him to get a rock for the soul purpose of throwing it at my head.
Suddenly, three foals dived out of nowhere, and sprayed glue all over my face, mane and body, I stumbled forward and tripped on a rope or wire of some description, clearly a trap that caused hundreds of tiny, broken down rocks to fall onto me. It hurt at first, but that was not the purpose of the exercise.
I sat from the cold, ice of the wooden floor, and sat with my legs spread out, and realised the glue had dried, setting the rocks to stick on my mane and fur. All the foals laughed and teased me by chanting "Pinkie Pie, The Rock Filly, Pinkie Pie, You Look Silly, Pinkie Pie, Ditch those roots if you wanna fit in, Pinkie Pie, In Yourself A Deadly Sin!"
To be honest, it didn't really make sense, and was clearly poorly thought out, but the fact that they mentioned I was born on a rock farm hurt my feelings, as though they could possibly know what it was like to be raised on a rock farm. I was still capable of emotion, but I allowed it to build inside of me. The sadness, the loss, the feelings I had felt all this time had began to build and grow, and I knew that one day it would explode through rage, or depression, madness or something more...
This was the moment, that my soul, my being, what I was born for, everything passed through me as I realised that I was Pinkiemena Diana Pie, and I was born to make other ponies happy. They were eagerly awaiting for me to cry, or scream, or yell at nopony, as nopony would ever help me, but I sat there and I laughed.
"Good one guys!" I giggled as I fell onto my back and rolled around. They stared at one another in confusion, and some even with anger at my lack of emotion.
"Good one?" One filly asked, as she nibbled on the tips of her hair and blinked heavily, as though something had penetrated her eyes.
"Yeah, good prank. I wasn't really expecting it, so good one." I sat up and played with the hooves at the end of my legs, and all the little foals walked away from me, one by one. I lay there, and with each pony less that was left, my smile dissipated a little more, until I was frowning on the corridor by myself, staring at my own hooves.
I thought back, to my life, and to my family. 'Maud Pie. Limestone Pie. Marble Pie. Igneous Rock. Cloudy Quarks.' I repeated it over and over in my head, I couldn't forget, not again, the pain would never let me forget them, no matter how...
A Swirl of darkness filled my mind, and I remembered my life, my family, the farm.
I danced freely on the lawn on the back of our house, I giggled and danced around all by myself, it hurt me to continue, but I didn't want to stop remembering.
Suddenly, Maud dived forwards and tackled my to the floor, we fought playfully. She nibbed on my ear, and I tickled her until she allowed me to go, I slipped away towards the house, but she grabbed my tail her mouth a pulled my back to the floor, and I lay there giggling as Maud prepared to launch on me.
"Girls, play nice!" The sweet melody of the voice that brought me into the world, and I was still here. My mother was carrying a tray of cookies and some orange juice. Limestone merrily hopped behind her, bragging that she had been the one who put in the chocolate chips and weighed out the butter.
I knew it would never work, but I tried to talk anyway "mother!" My voice felt croaky and weak, and I felt as though the words would just wheeze as I tried to talk, but I didn't even achieve that, I felt as though I was a prisoner in my own body, powerless to act differently in the final moments I spent with my family.
Marble moodily fell in from the back-door, and complained about all the noise, as she was trying to study something to do with rocks. It was typical of Marble to study rocks all day and all night, whereas with ponies like Maud, she need not study, she would pick these things up on the job. She was a rather hard working pony.
My father galloped into the garden causing Limestone, Maud, Marble and I to dive forward towards him and place out arms around him, I remembered this. My father had been away for a few days, he was collecting a rare specimen of rock t compare to that we had on the farm, proving our rock could be more valuable than they are made out to be. He smiled sweetly and I felt as though I was back with my family, out of the darkness and the sadness and loss.
I awoke on the floor, in a small, salty puddle of my tears. I licked the ones from off my face, and smiled, refusing to allow myself to emote my feelings of the situations. I am Pinkiemena, I do not deal with pain.
