Life is an Illusion

Apple Snow's POV.

Screaming. Mumbling. Cold, damp, concrete walls. Springy, but uncomfortable beds. How can somepony sleep in this mess of a mental institution? Something smelled foul in the air today. It shouldn't though.

I lost count of the days since there were rumors of ponies in Ponyville have been reported missing. Gilda the Griffon. Rainbow Dash the youngest and most skilled flier in Equestria. Candy Mane. And a few others.

Me? I was just sitting on the bed of my cell, playing with a lighter a nurse gave me for my birthday. I'm no pyromaniac, but I like the warmth the small fire released. It was relaxing.

I quickly shut the lighter off and put it on my pillow, as I heard the door to my cell open with a loud sound of squeaking metal. The sound of clopping hooves followed. They were heavy and strong. The warden has arrived to see me.

"Apple Snow. You have a visitor at the Visiting Room." The warden told me in his usual strong and baritone voice, "Follow the sound of my voice and meet me at the door. I'll lead you to the visitor."

I sighed and stood up. My ears twitched, as his voice continued to echo in the walls on my cell. I turned to my right and took six steps forward. I reached out my hand and a large, strong hand took a firm grip around my hand and another grabbed my upper arm. Without a second of hesitation, I was taken out off my cell and headed toward the Visiting Room.

The Visiting Room was similar to what you find in prisons. However, since this place is a mental asylum for the most extreme and insane minds, each booth is separated like washroom cubicles.

The warden lead me forward and forced me to sit down upon a wooden chair. I sat in silence, until a very familiar voice shouted from the other side of reinforced plastic-glass.

"Hey, Snowie! Didn't think you'd be here. How have you been?"

My ears perked up. I recognised the voice in seconds. Pinkie Pie! During the return of Nightmare Moon, she revealed herself to be the Element of Laughter, by showing us that scary faces can be laughed away.

From what other ponies talk about her, Pinkamena Diane Pie is the bubbly baker and party planner of Ponyville. She lives with the Cakes at SugarCube Corner. Her pastries and parties are as phenomenal as she is everypony's friend.

"Pinkie Pie? What are you doing here?" I asked, finally able to find my voice.

A strange aroma reached my nose. It smelled sweet. Sugary. Vanilla. And a hint of raspberry. She had something with her.

"I just wanted to wish one of my best friends a happy birthday." Pinkie answered with a cheery smile in her voice, "AppleJack told me you'd be here, so I decided to stop by."

My eyebrows furrowed and my tail wagged in disgust. AppleJack told her where to find me. I should've known. Why did she bother to tell Pinkie where to find me?

Then Pinkie spoke up again, "Oh, I almost forgot." By the vibrations of movement, I sensed she reached for a satchel and grabbed something. Through the gap of the glass, Pinkie passed something to my side.

I grabbed the object. It was soft and spongy. I sniffed it. Sweet. Sugary. Vanilla with a hint of raspberry. About the size of my hand.

"It's a cupcake. I heard you like raspberry icing." Pinkie told me.

"Thank you, Pinkie." I thanked with a smile.

"Visiting hours are up. Time for the inmates to return to their cells. Come again next week." A stallion's voice shouted in a deep and clear voice.

The sound of chairs moving reached my ears. I stood up and something strong grabbed my arm. It pulled me forward for a few meters, then to the right, pushing me into my cell. The force caused me to stumble on my hooves and fall to my knees. Luckily I was able to keep Pinkie's cupcake safe in my hands.

"Happy birthday, freak." The guard hissed at me, as I picked myself up.

I sighed and sat on my bed, as the sound of clopping hooves on concrete started to fade. Tears threatened to fall from my eyes, but I fought them back.

"I'm already dead."

I grabbed the cupcake and took a bite. It was delicious. The raspberry icing blended very well with the cake. Excellent texture and easy on the teeth. These cupcakes would be great with earl grey tea or chai.

I swallowed and started to feel very lightheaded and sleepy. It could be the sugar. Sugar has no affect on me. No sugar rushes or anything. I'm not allergic to any of the contents of cupcakes. No nuts. Not milk. Not flour. Pinkie drugged the cupcake with something.

I couldn't keep my eyes open. I dropped the cupcake and my head hit the pillow. My eyelids fell and my body fell limp. Sleeping drug!

"Blood is thicker than water, right?"

I woke up to the sound of a music box tune. The same tune of my mother's locket she passed on to me before she passed away. A sad tune, but a beautiful lullaby. Like a soul lost at sea or a siren's lost serenade.

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The smell of the room I woke up in didn't fit my cell. Damp concrete. Metal and rust. Blood and death. And baking ovens? Where the heck am I?

"Such a beautiful tune. It can make somepony sleep peacefully." A familiar voice spoke from across the room from me.

I tried to move, but I couldn't. My wrists and hooved felt cold. My back was against something hard and wooden. I'm strapped on some sort of table.

"It's making me feel sleepy. But it also sounds familiar." Another voice replied. A younger voice with a familiar southern accent.

"Please don't break it." I spoke up, making my presence known.

"Hey, Snowie. You're awake. I gotta say you're lighter than you look." Another voice spoke to me with a smile in her tone.

I gasped, "Pinkie Pie? Where am I? What did you do to me?" I struggled against the restraints around my arms and hooves, but to no avail.

"I am sorry. I truly am. It's just that your number came up, and I needed to find a way to get you out of the asylum." Pinkie explained to me, "Also, since it's your birthday, we're also throwing a party for you."

I raised a brow, "My number? You broke me out of my cell? Just what do you want from me, exactly?"

"You're gonna help us make muffins." The first voice answered.

"Ditzy?" I recognized, "You and Apple Bloom are involved?"

"Don't be angry, Snowie. Look at the bright side; When we're finished, you get to live forever." Pinkie told me.

"So, you're planning to torture me and turn me into pastries?" I asked. I got a few seconds of silence as an answer. That tells me Pinkie was nodding her head. I lowered my head, "Then just get it over with."

"What?" Pinkie exclaimed.

"You heard me. Just kill me and turn me into muffins, or cupcakes." I told her, "You're looking at a defenceless blind pony that has lost all hope of her life. My family put me in that cell. I have no friends. Even the nurses and doctors don't care about me." Tears welled up in my eyes, "I'm nopony. A ghost. An illusion. Just pick up that scalpel and slit my throat with it. I dare you, Pinkamena! Just do it!"

The tears fell from my eyes as my angry voice echoed and bounced off the walls of the cellar. Silence followed as I can sense shock coming from the three ponies in front of me. I wasn't scared, nor was I sad. I was filled with rage and anger. What I said was true. My family left me to rot in that realm of Tartarus you call a mental institute. Nopony bothered to come visit me, apart from Pinkie earlier.

Whispers were not helping either. As soon as I woke up, they started ringing in my ears. So many talking in the same time, it was irritating me. This isn't a gift of life. This is a curse. I deserve to die!

After a few seconds of surprised silence, Apple Bloom decided to speak up, "That's new. A victim actually wants to die."

"Maybe there is a reason she thinks this way?" Ditzy spoke up.

The tip of my muzzle felt warm. Somepony was very up close my face. Then there was a sound of metal clicks. I started to feel heavy, as I dropped onto the hard, cold, concrete floor. My knees and hands felt sore from the landing, but the pain faded in a second.

"Pinkie! You're letting her go? She might report us to the police!" Ditzy exclaimed, as I picked myself up to my hooves.

"There's something unique about this one. She says she wants to die. She's not afraid. Maybe she can join us." Pinkie explained to the two other ponies in the room.

"But, she's blind. How can she make pastries?" Apple Bloom argued in disbelief.

"You know, I'm still here, Apple Bloom." I spoke up, as I steadied myself, "I may not be able to see, but I do have other senses. Hearing? Smell? Taste?" Then I shrugged, "Besides, even if I did tell the police. Who would believe an asylum inmate?"

"Do you have any special talents, despite your lack of eyesight?" Pinkie Pie asked me.

I nodded with a small shrug, "I have a knack for brewing teas and 'special' drinks. I was able to kill a schizophrenic inmate with orange juice..." I supressed a laugh with a smile, "Infused with Jarin Root. Let me tell you. It made me feel at peace, for the first time in my life."

Pinkie Pie started laughing in joy. I sensed Ditzy give me a smile. But Apple Bloom tilted her head, "What's Jarin Root?"

"Jarin Root is a poisonous root to an otherwise rare and harmless plant. It's odorless, tasteless, and dissolves completely in any liquid." Pinkie explained, as she calmed her laughter.

I nodded, "It starts by dissolving the stomach lining, then works its way with eating away at the blood cells and muscle tissue. Depending on how strong you are to the poison will determine your death. You mostly either drop dead, die from food poisoning, stroke or cardiac arrest."

Apple Bloom smiled, "That's not a bad talent. How did it happen?"

I rubbed my arms in the memory, "Well... The schizophrenic inmate was a stallion, named 'Half Wit'. He used to bully me about my fur and blindness. Calling me names and locking me in the bathrooms, telling me it was my cell. He bullied me for months, until I couldn't take it anymore." I scratched my head, as I remembered the story, "Within the botanical gardens of the asylum, I found the Jarin Flower. I remembered somepony saying that the root was poisonous, and something inside me clicked."

A smile grew on my face, "I harvested the roots from the plant and created my own version of orange juice. The next day, I found him in the cafeteria. I offered him the poisoned drink as a peace offering, hoping to start anew. He took the drink, drank the juice and pushed me over the dining table behind me." I rubbed my hands, "The following night, Half Wit was found dead in his bed. The doctors diagnosed his death as a stroke in his sleep. But I knew better."

Once I was finished with my story, I heard clapping.

"She's one of us!" Ditzy exclaimed in excitement. Then she asked, "Can we keep her, Pinkie?"

I braced myself, then felt three pairs of arms hug me in a tight group-hug.

"Welcome to the family, Apple Snow."