His Daughter's Scars
By Flutterwhy4
It was a lovely spring afternoon. All around Ponyville plants were blooming, birds were singing and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, which was a perky shade of blue. Ponies occupied themselves with their individual tasks like bees in a hive. Someponies were gardening, some were knitting, some were talking in the streets, but one special pink pony was busily baking.
Pinkie Pie hummed a cheerful tune to herself in the kitchen of Sugarcube Corner. Mr. and Mrs. Cake were away for the day and Pinkie had the store all to herself. The bakery was filled with the smell of hot, sugary treats. The pink pony watched the timer on the oven tick down closer and closer to zero; only seconds remained now. She gleefully hopped up and down with each passing second, using the timer as a metronome to guide her hopping. BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP!
“Oh boy!!! The cupcakes are done!!” Pinkie shouted, silencing the annoying timer with her muzzle and swinging the oven door open with a hoof. Inside the oven were four full tins of cupcakes, two on each rack. Grabbing a hot mitt in her mouth to protect her from the searing hot metal, Pinkie placed her head into the opening of the oven and pulled out one tray with her teeth. The heat on her face was intense. When she pulled the tray out and set it on a cooling rack her face was flushed.
This was the moment of truth; Pinkie picked up a toothpick in her mouth and carried it over to the cooling confections. She picked the ugliest cupcake of the batch and plunged the wooden skewer into the center; then as quickly as she had stabbed, she pulled back and looked at the toothpick. It was clean.
“Whoopie!! Another successful batch!!” Pinkie cheered to herself before continuing her humming. She went back to the oven to retrieve the other three cupcake tins and place them on the rack to cool. Each time the heat of the oven got to her a little more. Her brow now sparkled with perspiration. Pinkie heard hoofsteps in the other room. The front doors at Sugarcube Corner were rarely closed, not during business hours and not on such a gorgeous day anyway. Ooh! A customer! Pinkie thought.
“Coming!” Pinkie exclaimed loud enough that it would carry into the storefront. She hopped through a set of wooden swing doors and stopped in mid-air, defying gravity as she looked at the pony that stood in front of her. Instead of continuing in her arcing trajectory she fell straight down and her pupils shrunk to the size of raisins. Pinkie gasped loudly, but not like she had when she first met Twilight Sparkle, this was a gasp of horror. Standing in the storefront was an earth-tone pony with a dark Stetson hat and a pick-axe for a cutie mark. He had long sideburns and his mane and tail were both striped with the same two shades of gray. The familiar pony glared back at her with fiery yellow eyes.
“D- d- dad?” Pinkie muttered completely in shock.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The little filly Pinkamena nudged another dull, gray rock into a pile with her snout. She heaved a heavy sigh of discontent as she contemplated her situation. Consigned to a toyless, joyless life of labor on her father’s rock farm, her only comfort was knowing that her sisters shared her misery. Pinkamena loved her sisters more than the world. Her sisters were closer friends with each other than they were to Pinkamena, almost to the point of being inseparable, but they all shared a deep bond as siblings. There was never any smiling, but during the long days of toiling, the fillies would make eye contact as often as possible; their glances were enough to reassure them that everything would be okay.
The clatter of a triangle ringing on the porch of the cottage signaled the girls that supper was ready. They all three trotted slowly to the cottage. This was no respite; this was a dreaded event because it meant they’d have to see him, Clyde, their father. He was a stern patriarch. An entire life of dull, thankless work and struggling to provide for a family of five had left him dead to the world. The girls had spent a childhood, which should’ve been filled with playing and laughing, instead learning painful lessons about how to act around their father.
“Papa.”
“Papa."
“Papa.” The three fillies greeted their father in turn before gathering around the kitchen table. Their mother lifted a heavy steaming pot from the wood-burning stove and poured the contents into an antique colander above the sink. A cloud of steam rose from the sink, the mare’s light gray coat blending in with the vapor, camouflaging her. The rest of the family waited, silently. The girls traded glances while their father eyed them coldly from the head of the table. One of the first lessons the sisters had collectively learned was never to look at father unless he spoke to them first. It wasn’t something he demanded of them, it was just that the frequency of their punishments seemed to increase when they made eye contact with the orange-brown brute.
The aging mother walked stoically to the table carrying the colander in her hooves. She set the vessel down in the center of the table; it was full of plain, white rice with a ladle for serving. Their father served himself first, that was the second “rule” they learned growing up. Afterwards, the rest of the family dug in. Nopony said a word as they ate, gobbling down the flavorless, chewy morsels. The room was filled with the squishy sounds of ponies chewing. Pinkamena and her sisters ate as fast as they could without making it obvious. Their haste had dual purpose for it had become a small game to them to see who could finish eating first. It was a trivial bit of fun, but it was one of the few bits they had. The real purpose for their speed, however, was to get away from their father. Before the three fillies could finish eating, they heard the worst sound in the world.
“So, Pinkamena…” their father looked up from his plate and spoke. There was no emotion in his voice. Pinkamena slowly turned her head and gazed up at her father, her stare met his sulfurous yellow eyes. He spoke again.
“…the rocks in the east field haven’t been turned over yet. I thought you were going to see that that got done.” He said austerely. Pinkamena gulped in fear before responding.
“I-i-inkie nee…” The pink pony trailed off into a low mumble.
“Speak up girl!” Her father squawked.
“Inkie needed help moving the rocks in the south field, so I helped her.”
“Well. That still doesn’t explain why your work isn’t finished.” There was a pause before the stallion continued. “I thought I’d already taught you about responsibility. I’m disappointed Pinkamena, I really am.”
“I-I’m sorry. I’ll do it after dinner?” Pinkamena said, more asking than saying.
“Nope. It’s getting dark already. What kind of father would I be to let my daughter go work outside at night? It’s a real shame though seeing as how tomorrow we’re going to be behind schedule.”
“I’m sorry Papa!” Pinkamena offered pleadingly, she knew what was coming.
“Yes, I’m sure you are.” With that he reared up and bucked her in the head. Their mother winced at the blow, but said nothing; she had long ago learned her place. Pinkamena fell over sideways onto the cold, hard wooden floor and began clinging to her ear which had received most of the impact and was bleeding all over her hoof. She rolled across the floor and scrambled to her hoofs. Her sisters watched compassionately, but without shock as their pink sister ran off to the bathroom to nurse her wound and get away from the abusive pony.
While the stern stallion had no qualms about dishing out abuse to the entire family, it was Pinkamena who received the lion’s share. Something about her being the only colorful pony in the family made her a favorite target. Pinkamena would sometimes wish she had been born a “normal” gray or brown filly, but part of her realized that then her sisters would share more of her beatings and she didn’t want that. Still, it seemed no matter how much work she did, and how much she tried everything she could to please her father, he still lashed out at her. She had grown to accept it. Her physical wounds would always heal, even if the emotional ones didn’t. A small part of her still loved her dad. Even if he was a monster, at least he kept her and her sisters fed and kept a roof over their heads and gave them warm beds to sleep on.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“It’s been a long time.” Clyde said as he looked upon his estranged daughter.
“Uh, yeah… it... has.” Pinkie responded instinctively. She was still shocked and terrified. The pony standing across the counter from her was the one thing in Equestria that truly scared Pinkie; Pinkie had learned from her grandma to stand up tall and face her fears, but that only worked with things like dragons and thunder and spooky trees. Her father was in a league of terrifying all his own. The happy-go-lucky party pony reverted back to a scared little filly in the presence of her former guardian.
“How has my Pinkamena been?”
“It’s Pinkie.” She said nervously.
“What?”
“Pinkie Pie, that’s my name now.” She cringed, expecting a beating that never came.
“I see. Well, how have you been? …Pinkie.” he spat her name out like a piece of used gum.
“I…” Pinkie started to speak but stopped and realized that she was a grown mare, and she was in Sugarcube Corner with friendly ponies only a short distance away. He doesn’t have any power here. This is my new life and I’m not going to let him push me around like he used to! Pinkie thought to herself, becoming more confident.
“Why are you here?” she asked, her voice beginning to return to its usual effervescence. He stared daggers at her, contemplating whether or not he should even respond. Pinkie hadn’t addressed him as papa, nor had she answered his question, and hearing her cutesy voice again made him want to retch, but he held it in.
“What? A father can’t check in on his own daughter?” he replied. Pinkie stared puzzlingly at him, but when he didn’t speak again, she asked the second question that was on her mind.
“Well…okay, but how did you know where I was?”
“How dumb do you think I am Pinkamena?” he shouted, insulted “You didn’t run away across the world, the farm’s just outside of Ponyville. If I had cared that you were gone I could have found you and it wouldn’t have taken me long. Not to mention, you haven’t really been keeping a low profile.” Clyde opened a dirty satchel that he had slung over his back and retrieved a newspaper clipping and held it in his teeth for Pinkie to see.
DISCORD NO MORE! read the boldface type at the top of the clipping above a grayscale picture of six ponies… Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Twilight Sparkle… and herself. Pinkie accepted his answer, but frowned at the words ‘if I had cared’. It stung her, even after all this time, to hear her father treat her like rubbish. At the same time, Pinkie felt that he didn’t really mean it. She had no real proof, but she always thought he cared about her, in his own harsh, twisted way; she could see it in his eyes whenever he had laid a hoof on her. She never saw him take any pleasure in hurting her or her sisters; it was his duty to raise his daughters with an extreme belief in ‘tough love’. She would never condone his methods, but she could see a side of him that nopony else, not even her sisters could see.
Pinkie scanned her father’s face; it was as if it had been carved in marble. His trademark scowl hadn’t changed one bit from how she so vividly remembered it growing up. Feeling an invigorating sense of security in the friendly bakery, separated from Clyde by a countertop, Pinkie ventured to ask one of the questions she never had the luxury of asking back in her days on the farm.
“How come you never smile daddy?” Clyde stepped backward a pace, aghast at the direction this conversation was heading, and how soft his daughter had become in his absence.
“It breaks my heart that you always look so unhappy. Can’t you smile for me? L-like you did that one time…” Pinkie’s voice softened as she spoke the last words. Memories of Pinkie’s childhood washed over her and behind the counter she raised a hoof to her belly and ran it along the mottled edge of a long scar which was obscured by her pink coat.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It was another boring day on the rock farm. The entire family was in the south field preparing to move the rocks to the east field. Little Pinkamena thought about her father while she labored. She really did try her hardest to make him love her and appreciate her, but it was difficult when he treated her the way he did. Many days she’d be the first pony out of bed in the morning. She’d get to work right away in the vain hope that Clyde would notice her efforts. He never did, or at least if he did, he never showed it. Other days she’d lie in bed well into the morning in a depressive funk. Her father would probably hit her even if she got up, so she might as well enjoy the soft mattress until then.
Pinkamena knew how unhappy her father was and it broke her tiny, little heart. Why exactly he was such a grump she didn’t exactly know. She knew bits about his past from rare nights where Clyde was willing to endulge the family in a story while basked in the glow of their cackling fireplace. His stories were always about somepony getting the better of him, or how hard things were ‘back in the day’ and they always ended with some callous life lesson like ‘never trust a salespony’ or ‘nice ponies finish last’. Those relaxed evening stories had become more and more infrequent as Pinkamena and her sisters had grown up. Pinkamena missed those nights; they were the only time where she felt like she had a real family and a purpose.
The young pony sighed as she moved another rock. I wish I could make papa happy. A pony shouldn’t go through life with a rotten attitude. Pinkamena thought as she heard the sound that supper was ready. As her family walked into the cottage leaving Pinkamena outside, something amazing happened. The ground shook and with a sudden gust of wind and a loud ‘WOOSH’ the gray, dreary sky was pushed aside by a torrent of colors. The force of the wind and the noise made Pinkamena close her eyes, but once it had subsided she looked up into the now azure blue sky and saw a magnificent rainbow! The pink pony’s mouth fell open and her mane exploded into a poofy mess as she soaked in the brilliant spectrum with her eyes. Through the twisted, black, claw-like branches of a dead tree Pinkamena saw royal purple, and blue as bright as sapphire, and green greener than the greenest spring grass, and neon yellow, and orange and the most super-terrific ruby red she’d ever seen! All the vivid colors streaked across the sky and slammed into the hills behind the cottage which was dull brown and looked morbid by comparison.
Something went off like a firecracker inside Pinkamena’s head at that moment. She was so overwhelmed with joy like she’d never felt, and what was more, she wanted to share that joy with everypony! How could she spread the elation in her heart to the rest of her family? The rainbow was already beginning to fade and rainbows don’t come around that often. Just then, Pinkamena had a wonderful idea, but she would need so many things. I’d better get busy she thought.
The next morning when the sun rose Pinkamena was already out of bed. The family, led by Clyde, stepped out of the small cottage.
“We better harvest the rocks from the south field.” He said in a tired voice. Just then he and the rest of the clan noticed a noise coming from the silo. They stopped in their tracks and stood looking puzzled.
“Pinkamena Diane Pie, is that you?” her mother asked. The door to the silo swung open with a flutter of confetti and the sound of polka and Pinkamena appeared with a smile.
“Mom! I need you and dad and the sisters to come in here! Quick!” The poofy-maned pink pony said in a rousing voice before slamming the door once more. When the family opened the plain door and looked inside for the first time they were dumbfounded. The entire inside of the silo had been decorated with gaudy streamers; balloons of all shapes and colors peppered the room and several tables had been set up with lacy, colorful tablecloths. The room had a plethora of items that had never been seen before on the lifeless, desolate rock farm. Noisemakers and party hats and cups and plates dotted the tables along with some bowls filled with refreshments and trays of hors d’oeuvres. In the center of the room stood a table the same color as Pinkamena and on top of it was a gargantuan, four-tiered cake!
“SURPRISE!!! You like it??? It’s called… a PARTY!” Pinkamena appeared with a hopeful grin and stared back at her family, awaiting their response. The family looked around in shock and their lips began to quiver. In the short moment of silence which felt like an eternity to Pinkamena, she began to have second-thoughts. Oh no! I shouldn’t have done this… I’m going to be in big trouble!
“Oh… you don’t like it.” Pinkamena said, turning away in sorrow before looking back at her family. Their faces instantly brightened and they all smiled in unison; even Clyde was smiling much to Pinkamena’s delight! Oh what joy!! Pinkamena ran over to where her family has standing and took her mother’s hoof in a dance to the silly polka music that filled the silo. The whole family joined her in dance, grins plastered on their faces as they enjoyed the party. Pinkamena was wholly surprised that her father approved, but she didn’t care to question why, she had learned to never look a gift pony in the mouth. It was such a sight to see her father dancing, and smiling. He was spry as a young colt, standing on his hind legs, bobbing back and forth to the music, his black tie and collar swinging rhythmically. Pinkamena thought she even heard her father giggle! Could this be a new beginning for the family? Could she finally have what she had always wanted? Had she finally made her father happy??
Pinkamena couldn’t help but let a few tears of joy stream down her face as she danced. The family danced, and danced and danced. It was the greatest night of not just Pinkamena’s life, but all of their lives. It was too good to be true, yet it was. This was really happening! Pinkamena had brought joy to her family!
“WHAT is that!?!?” A furious scream echoed over the music, it was Clyde. The whole family stopped dancing and looked at him. All of the cheer had vanished from his face and he stared in Pinkamena’s direction with burning eyes.
“WHAT… IS… THAT!!??!!??” Clyde repeated pointing a hoof at young Pinkamena’s flank, thrusting it towards her with each word as he yelled. All eyes fell on the pink pony and Pinkamena looked herself over. Her eyes met her flank. She saw three balloons there where previously there had been only pinkness.
“YIPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! A CUTIE MARK!!!!!!!!!!!” Pinkamena yelled, forgetting the atmosphere of the room at the sight of her new marking. She rocketed into the air and clopped her hoofs together excitedly.
“NO!!!!” Clyde knocked the thrilled filly out of the air with his terrifying voice. Pinkamena looked back at him; she had never seen him so angry. He was bent down into an aggressive stance; he scraped his hoof at the ground, sending clouds of dust into the air below him. His nostrils flared and his usual scowl was replaced by a grimace of absolute anger.
“STOP…RIGHT NOW!! THIS?!?!?!?!?!?” Clyde began to cackle madly to himself as he surveyed the room.
“THIS IS MY DAUGHTER’S SPECIAL TALENT???!!!??? NO!!! I WON’T HAVE IT!!!” He was insane with rage. Everypony in the barn was frightened, far more than usual. Clyde threw his back hooves into the air and with a crack he sent a table tumbling over, breaking it and shattering a bowl of punch against the wooden walls. He tore down streamers and cut balloons free with his teeth; he stomped on noisemakers and crushed cups. He rampaged throughout the room destroying everything that he could. When her father finally got to the center table, Pinkamena spoke, broken-hearted.
“But daddy? It’s a party! I thought you were having fun?” Clyde picked up a cake knife from the table. It was a long, wide blade, not too sharp, but made specifically for cutting large cakes. The blade was flimsy, more like a spatula with a sharpened edge really.
“PARTY’S OVER!!!!!!!!!!!” He howled before hurling the knife at Pinkamena. She gasped and got up on two hooves trying to dodge the spinning blade coming towards her, but she wasn’t quite fast enough.
“Unnnnggh!!!” Pinkamena looked down at her belly. There was a 6 inch wound which was just beginning to trickle blood. The cake knife had broken her skin, but wasn’t sharp or massive enough to do any deeper tissue damage; still, the sight was like something out of a nightmare. Pinkie panicked at the sight of blood seeping into her coat and dripping onto the floor below her, yet she wasn’t in much pain. The knife had severed the nerves which would’ve sent pain signals to her brain. There was some soreness and a slight burning sensation around the edge of the gash, but not the agonizing pain one would have expected.
Pinkamena flopped back onto her springy tail and tried to figure out what to do about the large cut in her abdomen. The polka music was still playing throughout the silo, an unfitting, creepy tune to complement the violent carnage. Snapping back to reality, she looked up and to her horror saw that her father had turned his rage on her sisters. Inkamena lay cradling her foreleg with a painful expression. Blinkamena was cowering behind her mother who was standing between her and Clyde. With a swing of the back of his forehoof he sent his wife tumbling into the dirt and towered over Pinkamena’s sister. He bucked her in the gut and she too fell over with a grimace. Finally, he kicked repeatedly at the record player, finally at long last silencing the droning polka. The music ended in a whimper, much like Pinkamena’s hopes. She stared at her injured sisters and mother with tear-filled eyes as her father strode out of the silo.
The rest of the day went by pretty much as normal. Nopony said a word about what happened, Clyde never apologized. Pinkamena’s mother stitched her wound with finely honed knitting skills and quietly wept while she did so. Pinkamena knew this was the final straw. She couldn’t live like this anymore. Her cutie mark told her everything she needed to know. She was meant to bring joy and laughter to ponies, and she couldn’t bear to see her sisters being hurt on account of her. She resolved herself to what she must do. It was a painful decision. She loved her mother and sisters ever so much, but come sun up she’d be gone, never to return.
That night, once everypony had gone to sleep, Pinkamena stepped carefully out of her bed and strode over to where her sisters were slumbering. She leaned down and kissed them both on the cheek, tears welling up inside her. She stepped out into the main room of the cottage and looked through the open door at the end of the dark hallway to the room where her parents slept. She thought of going in, but decided against it. She pushed open the front door and gently closed it behind her, taking care to make as little noise as possible. Then she strode down the path past the fence and down the dirt road. This was it… Pinkamena was going to find herself new home… a new life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Pinkie continued to rub her belly scar. It was a reminder of what her father was capable of and it put her slightly on edge again.
“Don’t push me girl. You know I’ve got nothin’ to smile about.” Her father answered her question. “Now are you going to tell me how you’ve been or not?”
“I’ve been great. My life in Ponyville is wonderful. I’ve made the bestest friends and been on so many adventures. I really feel like I belong here.” Pinkie told him with a little grin on her face that her father was actually curious about her life. He does care about me; that’s why he came all this way just to see what I was up to! Pinkie thought to herself, jumping to conclusions. Clyde only narrowed his eyes at the perky girl behind the counter.
“I see… well. I’m… *cough* I’m happy for you.” He said. He was lost in thought. What had happened to his daughter? She was so… different. So cheerful and carefree, too soft for his liking, yet he couldn’t help but be jealous of her life.
“Really???” Pinkie said tilting her head at an unnatural angle.
“Oh, uhh… why sure.” He said.
“Oh daddy that makes me so happy you don’t even know!” Pinkie leaned across the counter stretching her forelegs out as if to welcome her father into a hug.
“Ahem.” Clyde blurted. Pinkie looked at him and realizing he wasn’t going to hug her put her hooves back down on the ground. Oh well, she’d take what she could get. She was just happy to be having a real conversation with her daddy. Maybe he’d changed, or was trying to change.
“Oh, sorry” she offered, knowing he wasn’t the affectionate type. “So, how’s the rest of the family?”
“As if you care. You ran away from us nearly eight years ago. You abandoned the family. And now you pretend to care?”
“I didn’t run away from the family, I ran away from you! That was the hardest decision I ever made, but I couldn’t stay and watch you hurt my sisters so I went to find a new life, a life where I could make ponies happy, and that’s just what I did. I make lots of ponies laugh and smile every day! It’s my special talent, but you already know that. You knew that seven years ago.” Pinkie rambled on. “So don’t you say I abandoned them, I loved my sisters, I loved mom, I even loved you!”
“Well. That’s kind of why I’m here.” Pinkie ears perked up at his words. She’d already asked why he was here and he’d given her a bogus answer, now it seemed as though he’d finally explain his arrival. Clyde spoke again.
“You see. There was quite the disease that hit the farm over the winter. The whole family took ill. I did all that I could, but the virus was too strong. Pinkamena, your mother and your sisters are dead.” Clyde fidgeted with his charcoal Stetson as he coldly delivered the terrible news.
He didn’t just say that! Pinkie’s heart tore apart like confetti. No it can’t be true. She looked into his eyes for some proof that what he was saying was real, but she got nothing. As a child, she had learned to read the nuances in his emotionless eyes, but being almost eight years removed from her father she had lost the ability… she saw only apathy.
“W-w-w-w-w-w-what? They… they’re all gone??” Pinkie asked, her lip trembling.
“Afraid so. I never wanted this, but it seems you’re all I have left Pinkamena… dear.” Pinkie’s father added the last word in a half-hearted attempt to say something nice, but it sounded so crass, almost sarcastic. Pinkie didn’t care much; her mind was busy sifting through memories of her family. She wanted to remember them being happy, but the only memory she had of that was from the night she threw her first party. She ran that day in her head over and over to mixed emotions. She remembered her mother and sisters smiling faces as they danced, but also how her father had ruined everything. Of everything he had ever done, that was the worst to Pinkie. He had taken the joy she had given the family and tore it to pieces, no kick to the head or hoof to the gut could ever compare to that.
“Hey! Buck up and be strong kiddo!” Clyde shouted at Pinkie as she rubbed her misty eyes. “I raised you to be tough as nails. Don’t tell me all those whoopin’s were for nothing.” Her father’s presence and his cold voice were really starting to annoy Pinkie now. All she wanted to do was close up the bakery and grieve.
“Is that all you can say???” Pinkie choked out. “Is that ALL you can say?!? You come here, out of nowhere to tell me my whole family is gone, and you can’t say anything except ‘be strong’??!??” Pinkie's irritation was coming through in her voice now.
“What do you expect me to say??”
“Oh I don’t know, maybe that you love me? Or maybe that you’re sorry?”
“I am sorry, I don’t think I need to say it. This was as tough for me as it is for you!”
“No it’s not!! You never really cared about any of us, you wouldn’t even let us have a minute of happiness and-“
“HEY!” Her father screamed. He began to step around the counter, trotting forward. Pinkie moved away until her back was against a wall. “I GOT SICK TOO AND I STILL GOT OUT OF BED TO MAKE THEM FOOD AND TAKE CARE OF THEM! I PROVIDED FOR THEM UNTIL THE VERY END!! DON’T YOU DARE SAY I DIDN’T CARE! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO RAN AWAY!” He tried to calm down. “I gave everything I could to you and your sisters. You can’t provide for a family with balloons and glitter, but you’d never understand that.”
“I think you should leave.” Pinkie said from behind a mess of tears.
“For Pete’s sake with the crying… I raised you better than that, and anyway I’m not leaving without my daughter. I can’t run the farm myself, I need you back Pinkamena.”
“It’s Pinkie, dad, and I can’t come back with you. I’ve got a new life here. Besides, with mom and the sisters gone there’s nothing left for me on that farm. Now please, leave!” Pinkie’s father was getting angry and impatient. He swung a hoof at his daughter in an uppercut that caught her right in the jaw. Pinkie’s head cracked back and rebounded off the bakery wall with a THUMP.
“Where in Equestria did you learn to sass me like that? That wasn’t no lesson I ever taught you, now for the last time you’re coming home, let’s GO!!”
“NO!!!!” Pinkie shrieked. Clyde moved to grab his daughter and take her by force. Pinkie panicked. She saw him approaching her. Pinkie snapped at his hoof, biting his foreleg in her still achy jaw causing her a bit of pain and him a lot.
“You LITTLE… YOU NEED TO LEARN SOME MANNERS!!!” He twisted Pinkie around and wrestled her into a choke hold. Pinkie couldn’t breathe, she tried desperately to pull his hooves from around her neck, but he was much stronger. Clyde was blind with rage. He held her with only one hoof, his other reached back to his satchel and produced a small rock chisel. He held his struggling daughter tight and swung the sharpened chisel around to her face. Her ear-shattering scream let him know he had hit his target.
The chisel pierced Pinkie’s left eye. She kept howling, only stopping for a moment between screams to take a sharp breath. Vitreous fluid ran down the glistening shaft onto her father’s hoof. Her once beautiful blue eye was completely red and her pink puffy eyelid tried to clamp shut but was held open by the metal tool. Clyde withdrew the instrument and threw his only remaining daughter to the ground. She writhed in pain like she’d never ever felt before. Not only was she in tremendous pain, but she realized that unlike before, this injury would never heal. The thought made her vomit between screams of pain. Pinkie’s face was matted with eye juice and blood which was coating the floor as she tossed about.
Suddenly, Pinkie felt a hoof pressing down on her chest. Pinkie tried to look up, but her brain hadn’t compensated for the strange visual signals it was receiving. Even Pinkie’s one good eye could only make out an orange blur leaning on top of her. Pinkie sputtered as her father leaned more of his weight on her. She felt the bloody chisel press against her soft belly flesh, right where her scar was.
“Now, are you going to come home like a good filly?” Pinkie began to hyperventilate in her pain and confusion. What could she do? She tried to nod her head, but suddenly there came a CRACK and her father’s weight was lifted from her chest, then there came a friendly voice.
“Pinkie!!! Omigosh! Can you hear me??” It was Rainbow Dash! Pinkie shook her head yes and looked around with her right eye. The orange blur was motionless beside her. Rainbow Dash must have knocked him out! Pinkie felt light-headed.
“Thank you Dashie!!!” Pinkie said out of breath. “Thank you so…”
“Nevermind that Pinkie, everything’s okay, I’m gonna get you some help.” And with that Rainbow Dash started shouting out the open door of Sugarcube Corner for anypony who could help. What a friend! Pinkie thought to herself before she blacked out.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Pinkie awoke in a hospital bed some time later; she couldn’t tell how long she’d been there. The room was sterile and bland. Pinkies’ head was pounding. She reached a hoof up to her face and felt a thick gauze bandage. Her pain was mild, much more manageable than it had been earlier.
“Is anypony there?” Pinkie hollered.
“Oh! You’re awake!” Rainbow Dash said walking up to Pinkie and standing beside her bed. “You’ve been resting for a while, it’s been about seven hours. The doctors patched you up and gave you something for the pain.” So that’s why it didn’t hurt anymore. “I heard your screaming and I came to your rescue in ten seconds flat! Nopony hurts my friends!!” Rainbow said.
“Where’s Clyde?” Pinkie asked, a bit woozy still.
“Clyde? Ohhhh, you mean the pony who attacked you. Don’t you worry about him! He won’t be bothering you anymore! The doctors looked him over and tried to save him, but they kept saying something about ‘the temporal artery’ being busted… I guess I kicked him a little too hard!” Rainbow joked.
“So, are you saying he’s dead?” Pinkie asked.
“Yup.”
“He was my dad, Dashie.”
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I’m sorry Pinkie… I…” Pinkie cut Rainbow off.
“No, don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault. You did the right thing. I’m just glad I have you as a friend! I don’t know what he would’ve done if you hadn’t showed up.” Pinkie said. Nurse Redheart appeared from the door at the far side of the room.
“Come along Rainbow! Pinkie needs her rest.” The nurse pony said in a soothing voice.
“Well, I hope you feel better soon Pinkie. Get some rest.” Rainbow said. Pinkie looked up at her friend. Her vision was still poor, but it was coming back to her, enough to make out a shiny tear as it rolled down Rainbow’s face. Pinkie couldn’t tell exactly how far away Rainbow Dash was with only one eye, but she slowly reached up with her hoof and once she had made contact with Dash’s face she wiped the tear from her muzzle.
“Don’t worry about me Dashie. I’ll be fine. Thanks… for everything.” Pinkie said, and then Dash left the room. Pinkie was alone with only her thoughts. I guess I don’t have a family anymore, other than my friends here in Ponyville. Inkie and Blinkie and mom and dad, they’re all gone. I wonder what’ll happen to the farm? I suppose it’s my decision. Pinkie sighed. This was all so much to deal with. She would’ve given anything to rewind time and forget all of this. She just wanted to bake yummy treats and party and make ponies happy, she didn’t want to inherit any dusty farm, or deal with the knowledge that her family was dead and, come to think of it, what pony would want to party with a Cyclops? Indeed her injury would dampen the mood of any shindig she threw. Pinkie again, touched her bandage. Her father had managed to change her life forever… again. Her other scar was her reminder of the first night that changed her life, now she had a second, more noticeable than the first. Pinkie nodded off to sleep.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The next day was quite busy. The pink pony had friends popping in all morning to see how she was doing and to have their questions answered. Of course all her best friends showed up, even Rainbow Dash again, but she was surprised to see so many other friendly ponies showing up to wish her well. Among them was the mayor of Ponyville, the school teacher Cheerliee along with a number of her students, and a blond-maned grayish-blue pony who had trouble with her own eyes. Later in the afternoon the doctors took her bandage off and Pinkie, looking in a mirror, got to see her new face for the first time. It was a grotesque, depressing sight. Generously, Rarity had hoof-made her a pink eye patch which matched her coat perfectly. Pinkie slipped it on and smiled. She didn’t look half bad with the eye patch!
Pinkie filled out some paperwork and then left the hospital, but she didn’t go to Sugarcube Corner. Instead she started walking down a road she hadn’t trodden in many years. She walked past the outskirts of Ponyville, into the countryside where she came across her old home. The cottage looked just as it did when she had left, sturdy as always. There was nopony working outside. Pinkie opened the door and stepped inside. There wasn’t a sound. She checked each room, empty. So it was true.
Pinkie walked back outside and bent her head in sorrow. She kicked a rock and sent it tumbling away from her. She looked around; it was such a dull, lifeless place. She was so glad she had left, her life in Ponyville was much better. Just then, Pinkie noticed something she didn’t remember, strange structures to the side of the house. She began to walk. The structures were further away than she had thought; she was still having trouble with depth perception. Behind the house she finally came upon three wooden objects jutting up out of the ground. They were hoof-made thick slabs of wood and carved with beautiful designs. She could tell it was her father’s handiwork; he was quite the skilled carpenter. She also knew from the inscriptions that these were headstones for each of her sisters and mother. Pinkie read the inscriptions.
Sweetly sleeping. Blinkamena Pie.
Until we meet again. Inkamena Pie.
Gone but not forgotten. A kinder, gentler mare you will never meet again. Sue Pie.
Pinkie cried at the beautiful words. Her father really did care, or at least he cared about her sisters and her mother! To think, she had said those horrible things to him in the bakery. She felt ashamed. Pinkie thought about her dad, and even after what he had done to her, she knew she had to honor him somehow.
“Maybe I could make one of these for you dad.” Pinkie said softly, as if talking to her father’s spirit. “…a-and I’ll bring it back here and put it right next to mom’s!” That’s when Pinkie noticed there was more written on her mother’s wooden headstone. The pink pony bent down to see what it was. There was a second inscription, towards the base of the board, a few inches below her mother’s epitaph. Pinkie read it aloud.
“For our dearest Pinkamena. She took in all the wonders of life, wrapped them in a colorful package and gave it to us. We miss you!”
