Fallen Angel

Fluttershy's eyes widened at Pinkie's last words. She dropped her bag of pet food and sprinted for the house. She didn't care how crazy she looked, or that her eyes were filled with tears, she only cared about finding Pinkie. She didn't care if she had just wasted good pet food, or that her pale pink hair was going to be incredibly tangled now. She just ran like hell. She had underestimated Pinkamena's depression. Now it might be too late. She slammed her shoulder against the firmly locked door. Pinkie had shut her out.

Pinkie stood there for what seemed like hours, before the last golden rays of sun disappeared. Then she jumped. The wind played with her pink hair, her baggy sweater flew up like when you stand over a fan. She fell back, so she would never see the ground that killed her. The fall seemed to take forever, and all around her, birds flew, and chirruped, convinced to make her only flight the best it could be. She was free. The last thing she ever felt was freedom. She was no longer sad, or worried. She was free. The cold ground seemed to jump at her, eager to claim its victim. Suddenly Pinkie's body slammed into the ground. She felt bones break, but she was never worried. The pain would go away. As she thought this, it all faded. There was blackness. Then there was nothing.

FLuttershy walked around back, her intent being to walk in through the back door. But she fell short. She was frozen. She couldn't move if she wanted to. Tears forced their way even more down her face. Her pale hair fell in front of her eyes. She wanted to scream, to cry, and shout at the world until Pinkie came to comfort her. But Pinkamena Diane Pie... was d- NO! She wouldn't say it. Couldn't believe the broken form in front of her was Pinkie's. Surely it was someone else! But when Fluttershy kneeled beside her, she recognized the beautiful face that would never smile again. She knew Pinkie's flat, deflated hair. Her face was still wet from tears she could no longer shed. Pinkie was... dead. That's it. Fluttershy would never hear her laugh, or go to a party, or taste her sweet cupcakes ever again. She grabbed Pinkie's body and hugged her, trying not to believe it. She set Pinkie down and whispered, "I love you too."

No one in the church noticed the figure in the back. Her gray hood was pulled down so you couldn't see her pale pink hair or sad teal eyes. She sat and listened to the priest, speaking of all the amazing things Pinkie had done. Speaking of her kindness. How hopeful she'd always seemed. How he wished someone could've known. The girl in the back looked down, but her face, and the tears leaking out of her eyes, betrayed her secret. She'd known all along. But she wasn't able to save her friend. It was her fault. Her friend was gone because she couldn't get there in time. She could've stayed, or Pinkie could've come to the market with her. Why did she leave her friend alone? Pinkie would never know. She was loved by so many people. One in particular.

Fluttershy looked at a painting to the right of the stage. She'd always loved it- a picture of 12 angels in heaven. She knew each of them so well, from the many times she sat in the back in that same gray hoodie, hiding from the world. But there was someone else. Fluttershy knew the painting too well. Why was there a 13th angel? You couldn't see the angel's face, but Fluttershy recognized the curly pink hair. Pinkie had found her home at last.

A fallen angel tried to fly with broken wings, and thus she found her home.