They Take Your Lantern

by False Door

Rating: mature
Tags: Gore, Violence, Dark, Main 6, Igneous Rock, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Suicide / Self Harm, Horror, Cloudy Quartz, Pinkie Pie
Length: 8973

Pinkie's foalhood trauma comes to a boil when she finds herself trapped in a surprise party that won't end.

Pinkie's friends throw her an impromptu surprise party after her family abruptly decides not to visit her on her special day. Though she's despondent over her parents' snubbing, she tries her best to put her sadness away for a fun-filled time. However when she makes an unserious birthday wish for a party that won't end she ends up trapped in a nightmare scenario embodying the worst of both worlds.

My entry for the Category Three Horror Contest in the Psychological category.
Super excited to get a horror story out there in time for Halloween.

Published 2024-10-19 04:30:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-10-19 04:30:00 UTC

They Take Your Lantern

The sun was setting on her special day, slipping away without concern or consequence. Just another revolution of the big floating dirt ball that was just as meaningless as any other.

Pinkie sat alone on a bench in the park. She stared down at a trail of ants marching along the asphalt walk, dissociating into a pleasant numbness. It was just a little rest. That's what she always told herself. Resting was a normal thing that everyone did. This was normal. She'd be happy, or something approximating it, in a little bit. Sometimes bad things happen and you need a break from everything and everyone… including yourself.

A shadow fell across her vision, eclipsing the little ant parade. “Oh, here you are. Are you okay?” The voice was teeming with worry.

Pinkie looked up with a start to see Twilight with an almost expectant look about her as though if she gazed hard enough into her friend she could gauge her disposition. She was scanning for problems. The look set off alarm bells in Pinkie's head.

Caught off guard, she swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled. “Yeah, just sitting and appreciating nature for a little bit is all.” She leaned back in her seat and stretched her four legs out on the backrest in a leisurely pose.

“Really sorry that the plans with your family fell through,” sighed Twilight.

“Well, y'know,” shrugged Pinkie dismissively. “What are you gonna do?” ‘Fell through’ was such a passive term she thought. Like no one was at fault.

“I can't believe Maude didn't even come.”

“Oh I'm sure she wanted to but she still does everything my parents tell her.” Feeling like a cornered rat, Pinkie quickly rerouted the conversation back to the initial question. “Seriously, it's fine, Twilight, I'm fine. This sort of thing has been happening my whole life. I'm completely used to it.”

Twilight looked like she wanted to probe further as if she'd lifted a rock and was disappointed at the lack of bugs underneath but she thankfully stopped.

“Okay… Well, wanna come over to my place for a little bit. I still have your birthday present.”

“Uh…” she hesitated dumbly, still feeling a little fragile.

Pinkie would say yes, she reminded herself.

“Sure,” she chimed, springing off of the bench.

They walked together through the long shadows of early evening. Pinkie tried to perk herself up, adding a spring to her step. The scent of someone's home cooking filled her nostrils as they reached the edge of the park.

“We can all do something together maybe next weekend,” suggested Twilight.

“Yeah, that would be fun,” agreed Pinkie.

The streets were clearing as most businesses were now closed for the day and everyone was home eating dinner.

Twilight held the door to the Golden Oak Library open with her magic. She followed Pinkie inside before shutting it behind them.

“Okay, you have to close your eyes because it's big and I didn't wrap it,” ordered Twilight as they approached her kitchen.

“Ooo,’ giggled Pinkie excitedly. She closed her eyes and let Twilight lead her through the swinging kitchen door.

Twilight stopped her in front of the table, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing and spoiling everything. “Okay, you can look now.”

Pinkie opened her eyes to see her other four closest friends gathered around the table and the kitchen island. “Surprise,” they shouted in unison.

Rainbow Dash blew a party blower in her wingtip.

Pinkie gasped in genuine surprise. “A surprise party for me?” she squealed.

“Did we get you?” asked Twilight excitedly.

“You totally did,” she admitted.

“I'm usually so bad at stuff like this.”

“We weren't going to let the sun go down on your birthday without doing something,” said Rarity from her chair.

“It's not amazing,” added Twilight modestly. “We threw it all together this afternoon.”

“No, it is amazing,” insisted Pinkie. “It has everything I want.” Her expression faltered subtly as she realized that wasn't true. She looked around the room to find presents, a punchbowl, a pink cake, floating balloons tied to every chair at the table and of course her friends.

“It's an abridged Pinkie party with all the essentials,” conceded Twilight, strapping party hats to their heads with her magic.”

“What do ya wanna do first,” asked Applejack. “It's yer party.”

“Well, cake is always last for me.” Her eyes bulged suddenly. “Oh, is that a party game I see?”

“We have two games if ya count the piñata,” explained Applejack. “Ah still had a pin-the-tail-on-the-pony poster lyin’ around from birthdays past.”

“I wanna do that first,”screamed Pinkie.

Frivolity is a sickness, she heard her father say.

Applejack and Rainbow raided the punch bowl after having waited patiently for the party girl to kick things off officially. Rarity slipped a blindfold on the ecstatic pink mare.

“No helping now,” she teased before taking the pushpin in her mouth. She began to feel around in the air, slowly honing in on the flank of the poster pony. Then stabbed it suddenly as if swatting a fly.

Pinkie pushed up her blindfold with a smirk. She didn't need to look; she could already tell from the groans.

“There's no point in anyone else even going after that,” scoffed Rainbow. “She has ESP for this game.”

They all went anyway just to be good sports about it. Rainbow Dash's words proved correct though as the best of her friends was Fluttershy who came second to Pinkie, a distant second.

Pinkie downed a victory shot of punch and then ogled the piñata with obvious interest. Strangely it was, of all things, a blue and green fish. Its seemingly arbitrary nature lent credence to how slapdash the party production was.

“I can see what we're doing next," said Twilight, playfully twirling the wooden bat in the air. “Oh Fluttershy?” She floated the implement to the meek pegasus.

“Should we really be doing this in your kitchen?” worried Fluttershy, looking between the bat and the piñata which already hung by a rope over a thick rafter beam.

“It'll be fine,” assured Twilight. “As long as we're not too crazy with the swings.” She gave Rainbow Dash a pointed look.

“What?” she shrugged defensively. “You can't argue with my results.”

“And that's why you go last,” quipped Twilight.

Fluttershy’s trial began. She wagged her head, gently waving the bat through the air, not even fast enough to make a whoosh.

“Maybe we need to stop moving it for me.” she mumbled through the handle after her umpteenth miss.

“We're not moving it, darling, you're facing the wrong way.”

“Oh.” She turned around slowly and swung blindly again. The wooden shaft rustled the tissue paper fur of the fish shaped vessel. The grazing caress didn't even jostle it.

“Should we count that as a hit?” droned Applejack.

Fluttershy wound up and swung again, tapping the piñata hard enough to make it turn a bit. She gasped. “I got it! How much candy came out?” She felt around on the floor with her hoof.

The partygoers struggled not to laugh.

“One more hit,” informed Twilight.

“Okay.” Fluttershy grunted as she put everything she had into the next swing. To her surprise it connected with power and accuracy.

“I did it!” She quickly pulled off her blindfold to see a pristine looking piñata seemingly swaying in a light breeze and no candy in sight.

“Aww,” she groaned, walking away.

“You did great, Fluttershy.” Twilight encouraged.

“It's hard ta get candy when ya go first ‘cuz no one's softened it up for ya yet,” argued Applejack.

They passed the bat around, chipping away at the cardboard fish and spilling a bit of candy here and there. Pinkie got a couple of good hits in but it ultimately survived so she gave the weapon to the closer, Rainbow.

She spun in a circle and clobbered it on the second swing. Pinkie watched vacantly as candy sprayed in all directions and her friends erupted in celebration. Rainbow threw off her blindfold triumphantly and everyone but Pinkie descended upon the bounty. She stood there, lost in her mind again.

“Pinkie,” called Twilight after realizing she wasn't participating in the frenzy. Pinkie didn't come back to herself until she realized everyone had stopped to look at her. She looked at the ground and the hooful of candies they’d left for her.

“Oh, sorry,” she laughed in embarrassment. “I just…I was…” She mentally slapped herself across the face, trying to shake her brain back in order. Stop thinking about it. Stop letting it ruin the moment. She walked over to them and began to gather whatever was left on the floor. But inside her was a profound sinking feeling that she was worrying her friends.

Twilight surreptitiously dropped a few of her own candies back on the floor to help boost the birthday girl’s score. Pinkie's mental absence and lack of exuberance left the climax of the game feeling awkward, bordering on sour.

“Should we do presents now?” asked Twilight.

“Yeah,” chirped Pinkie, decidedly rebounding from her falter.

They all gathered around the table where a festive pile of boxes and bags awaited her. Pinkie smiled and rubbed her hooves together in anticipation. “Let's see… I choose this one first,” she declared, singling out a fashionable white bag with black polka dots.

“That's from me,” chimed Rarity from the other end of the table.

Pinkie rustled around in the tissue paper wrapping and pulled out a cute little black bowtie and tophat.

The corners of her mouth turned up at the peculiar whimsy of the articles. “What's this for?”

“It's for Gummy to wear to formal events,” the designer explained.

“I love it,” she squealed. “Thank you, Rarity!”

She placed the little hat on her own head and continued unwrapping. She got a blanket from Fluttershy and a set of measuring cups and spoons from Twilight. Rainbow got her a crash helmet. Not for any one hobby or activity but for the general mayhem and antics that Pinkie was known for.

Applejack’s gift was last. Pinkie opened the plain brown box and pulled out an old mining lantern of a tarnished green copper hue. It had a mesh wire cage around the murky glass shade.

“That there's an antique,” began Applejack. “They don't make ‘em like that no more.”

Pinkie looked at the distorted reflection of herself in the glass. She recognized the unique design immediately. She had a lamp exactly like this growing up. So did all of her sisters on the rock farm. They used them all the time for working in the gem mines and for night in the house. The lanterns were old even then, a testament to their durability.

Her mind gravitated inevitably toward a darkness, an indelible associated memory. If any of them were bad, sometimes one of their parents would walk them deep into the mine with their lantern and then take it and leave them there alone in the dark for a time. Out of the four sisters, Pinkie hated that punishment the worst.

They had to just stay still and wait for someone to come get them. It wasn't safe to move around the mine in the pitch black. It was cold like a tomb and just as silent. Her father said it helped one reflect on one's transgressions but the only thing she ever remembered was the terror spawned from her own overactive imagination.

“Pinkie?” called Applejack.

She'd done it again.

“Uh, thank- thank you, Applejack. That's super cool and functional too.” She carefully placed the lantern back in the box.

“The wick is new and there's a little can a oil in there too.”

“Oh yeah, I see that,” said Pinkie, peering into the box. She pushed it together with the rest of the gifts and clopped her hooves together. “Welp, I guess that just leaves the cake.”

Rarity cleared the gifts from the table while Twilight slid the cake toward Pinkie. It was a round, double chocolate cake with pink frosting. The top read ‘Happy Birthday, Pinkie,” amateurishly in blue frosting. The inclusion of a comma was a dead giveaway that Twilight had at least decorated the cake.

With night falling, Twilight lit the lamps in the kitchen and then the birthday candles using a taper which she waved out in the air. Rarity led the singing while Pinkie stared into the flames. Then everything went quiet with palpable tension.

“Make a wish, Pinkie.”

Pinkie hovered over the cake and closed her eyes intently.

What could I possibly wish for? I already have everything I could ever want… besides the obvious.

Not wanting to belabor the process and leave her cake covered in wax she quickly settled on an imperfect and unrealistic wish.

I wish this party would just last forever.

She opened her eyes and blew. The host of little flames flickered and snuffed out, replaced with swirling gray smoke that rose slowly to the ceiling.

“Ya got ‘em all in one go,” marveled Applejack.

Rarity floated a knife through the air and carefully cut the cake into slices, placing them on disposable plates in assembly line fashion. Pinkie got hers first of course. She smiled weakly as she licked a blob of frosting from her hooves. The creamy sweetness was intoxicating, one of her favorite distractions.

Indulgence is a weakness of character, she heard her mother hiss before her first bite.

“This is good,” said Rarity, holding her fork in the air.

“Thanks,” replied Twilight flatly. “It's from a mix. I bought the frosting too. I keep hearing that baking is like science but you know I'm no baker, especially with a time crunch.”

“If I were you I would have just bought a sheet cake from Sugar Cube Corner,” said Pinkie. “But you put extra effort into it which makes it special.”

“Well, I just figured you've probably sampled everything that the Cakes make so you might want to try something new.”

By her rite as the birthday girl, Pinkie devoured the remaining two slices.

It was dark outside the kitchen window. Applejack yawned as she eyed the clock on the wall.

“Better get on home,” she sighed. “Got a long walk in the dark ahead a me.”

“The occasion was lovely considering the impromptu circumstances,” declared Rarity as she stood up.

Pinkie felt a harsh pang in her heart as the table of friends began to break up. The cold duality of parties, holidays and so many other things in life was that they were so much fun until suddenly they were over and gone and then she needed another fix. Even though she was initially hesitant to join Twilight for fear of upsetting her, she now feared being alone with her own thoughts more.

“Thank you so much for everything,” said Pinkie, getting to her hooves. “You didn't have to do all this. I know it was kind of a hassle to put together last minute like that.”

“We all wanted to do it because you're our friend and we want to help,” said Fluttershy. She winced at her own loose phrasing. Help… The word made the whole gesture sound like an obligation or a fix for a problem instead of something carefree and fun. There was of course no problem.

“Bye, y'all.” Applejack put her hoof on the door.

“Surprise!”

Pinkie blinked in confusion as the familiar shout hit her ears. She was suddenly standing just inside the kitchen door before her excited friends exactly as they were when she first walked in. Rainbow blew a party blower.

Pinkie rubbed her eyes with one hoof and looked again but they were all still there, assembled like- Her eyes landed on the cake. It was still there, or rather it was back. The presents were still wrapped. The punch bowl was still full. The piñata…

“Did we get you?” asked Twilight excitedly.

Pinkie turned to her slowly, mouth hanging open.

“I think that's a yes,” laughed Rainbow.

“What is this?” asked Pinkie warily.

Twilight’s forehead creased. “It’s a surprise party for you.”

“I know but didn't we already…” She looked around the room in bewilderment for something or someone to tell her what was happening. “Uh…”

Her friends exchanged confused looks over her uncharacteristically dazed reaction to a party of all things. Not exactly the Pinkie they were expecting.

“Why don't you have a seat, darling,” offered Rarity, scooting the end chair out with her magic. “Have some punch while you recover from the shock.”

Pinkie sat carefully in the chair, still unsure of everything around her.

“We got her good,” nodded Rainbow.

“I'm usually so bad at stuff like this too,” laughed Twilight.

Her words sparked a memory in Pinkie's brain. Twilight had said that same line before... Hadn't She? Pinkie recognized the birthday presents sitting on the table in front of her. Everything looked the same and was playing out similarly with the exception of her offbeat reactions to seeing it a second time. Was this deja vu? No. They just had an entire party. She remembered it. All of it. She already knew what was inside every one of those packages. She looked to the kitchen curtains which glowed golden orange from the sun which had yet to set. The clock said 7:20.

“What do you wanna do first,” asked Applejack. “It's yer party.”

Pinkie scratched her head and pointed over at the games. “Pin-the-tail-on-the-pony?”

“Ya wanna go first?”

“I guess,” she shrugged.

The group gathered around the poster and Rarity set her up with the tail. She exhibited much less excitement and showmareship the second time around but executed just as flawlessly as the first time. Once again her friends were astounded by her tail placement. She felt little accomplishment even as her friends lauded her performance. The rest of the game went exactly the same as it had the first time she believed she'd witnessed it.

This was just a weird dream, she concluded. It had to be. Even so, Pinkie still felt obliged to say please and thank you and make her friends feel comfortable at all times.

“Well what's next Pinkie,” asked Twilight.

“The piñata I guess,” she smiled tentatively.

“Oh Fluttershy?” She floated the bat to the meek pegasus once again.

“Should we really be doing this in your kitchen?” worried Fluttershy, looking between the implement and the piñata which already hung by a rope over the rafter.

Pinkie listened and watched as the same events unfolded with the same banter between her friends. She remained gracious and polite all the while, putting on a smile and laughing with them even when she saw the jokes coming. But somehow when her turn came she actually did worse the second time around. At least she remembered to grab the candy with them when Rainbow finished it off.

Opening presents proved to be the most difficult event for Pinkie. She already knew what everyone had gotten her. The novelty of the moment was gone. Doing it again was so emotionally draining. This time every smile was fake, every word unnatural as she rehashed her appreciation for her friend's thoughtful offerings that, by her understanding thus far, weren't even real. But if none of this was real why couldn't she stop acting? Why was she forcing herself through this?

“Cake time,” chirped Pinkie.

Her friends procured the same double chocolate cake and lit the candles and sang the song.

“Make a wish Pinkie.”

She did not and instead blew out the candles without a thought like she was brushing dirt off of her coat.

“Ya got ‘em all in one go,” marveled Applejack.

“Yep.”

Rarity served up the cake. Pinkie ate much slower this time, savoring the taste and listening to the conversation that she had already heard before. It was boring yet intriguing at the same time. The party was almost over and then she would probably wake up this time.
The pink pony licked her plate clean. Applejack yawned and reached for the door.

“Surprise!”

Pinkie stood before her excited friends at the beginning of her party once again and suddenly she was beginning to think something was actually very wrong.

“Wow, a surprise party,” she laughed weakly. She hadn't awakened, not even after completing the same party twice. She'd had recurring dreams but nothing like this. Was this three identical dreams back to back or just one dream that skipped like a broken record? Whatever… She did not want to force herself through the same party a third time.

Still standing front and center, Pinkie double blinked her eyes trying to wake herself. Usually that worked; she had no idea why but this time the dream continued. She raised her foreleg to her mouth and bit into it. Still nothing happened, she merely elicited quizzical looks from her friends.

Pinkie turned to Twilight in growing frustration. “This is a dream, right?”

“Nope, it's real,” she smiled. “Happy birthday, Pinkie!”

Pinkie sighed and turned away, still not willing to believe her. She immediately headed for the swinging kitchen door to the living room.

“Pinkie, where are you going?” asked Twilight.

“I'm just checking the door to see if I can open it and leave the room.”

She pushed on the door with one hoof but it stood firm as if she were pushing on a solid wall. She reared up and braced both hooves on it with as much force as she could leverage but it made no difference. It didn't make any sense. It didn’t even latch on anything and yet it wouldn't budge.

“Why would you want to leave?” asked Twilight with worry. “We’re throwing you a party. Don't you like it?”

Pinkie grinned woodenly and drifted back over to them. “Uh, yeah… thanks… Thank you, everyone. I just… We just came through that door and I can't open it. Doesn't that seem weird?” Her voice trailed off as everyone appeared completely flummoxed by her behavior.

“I guess not?” She eyed the back door, the one that went directly outside from the kitchen.

“Why don't you try some punch, darling?”

Rarity levitated a cup of party punch over to her. The distracted Pinkie took it in her hooves and downed it in one swig. She set the empty cup absently on the table and walked away.

“Just excuse me for a minute.” She turned away and made a beeline for the back door. She grabbed the knob in her teeth and pulled but it was stuck fast. She grunted, wrenching violently to the left and right but the knob itself wouldn't even turn as if it were all one fused piece.

“I don't think she wanted a party,” whispered Fluttershy disappointedly.

“Um, Pinkie?” began Twilight gently. “We have cake and games and presents for you.”

Pinkie let go of the door with a perturbed huff. There appeared to be no way out of this room and they just wanted to throw a party… again?

Pinkie turned around slowly to face them. “Games,” she nodded in sudden agreement. “Let's do games.”

“Okay, we have pin-the-tail-on-the-pony and a piñata.”

Pinkie pretended to consider her options for a moment. “How about something else first?” she suggested. “How about a game of Simon Says and I'll be Simon?”

“Okay,” agreed Twilight amiably.

The rest of the room nodded emphatically, happy to appease her request.

“Okay, everypony,” she began, slipping back into her happy persona. “Simon says touch your nose.”

Her friends lifted their hooves in compliance to touch their noses. Pinkie did it too.

“Good. Simon says spin in a circle.”

Everyone spun in place, some one way, some the other. They giggled, bumping into one another.

“Good,” nodded Pinkie. “Simon says go into the living room.” She watched with anticipation as all of her friends turned toward the exit that appeared to be sealed shut.

Rainbow was first to try the door.

“Surprise!”

Pinkie opened her eyes to find that she was back at the beginning of the party again. Her face was a picture of sober dread. Her friends tried to hold their smiles through her prolonged adverse reaction to the surprise.

Every single lucid dream she'd ever had she'd been able to exit on command if she wanted. Was this something else?

Pinkie exhaled with puffed out cheeks. She was fully divested from the moment and instead began to panic inside. What was happening? How could she make it stop? She didn't want to be here anymore; every repetition grated deeper on her soul.

“Did we get you?” asked Twilight in uncertainty.

“Yeah,” she replied flatly.

Her eyes bounced around the room, looking for solutions that weren't there. They stopped on the cake. That double chocolate flavor was the only thing that hadn't depreciated in value. Wait, the cake, the candles, her wish. She'd wished that the party would last forever. Was that why she appeared to be trapped at the party? It was the only idea she had.

“Can we do cake first?” she asked.

“Sure. It's your party,” agreed the unicorn.

“That's surprising,” mused Rarity as she cleared a spot for the cake. “You always like cake last.”

“Well, sometimes you get bored of doing it the same way over and over,” she replied, sitting down in her place at the head of the table.

They lit the candles and she endured another song before it was that magic moment again.

“Make a wish, Pinkie.”

She closed her eyes and focused all her mental energy on a single thought. I wish this party would end and we could leave.

She blew across her whole cake in a slow sweeping motion, extinguishing every flame as she always did, holding onto that wish to make it manifest.

“Ya got ‘em all in one go,” marveled Applejack.

Pinkie shot up from the table and marched straight to the kitchen door. She immediately threw her weight against it but it still would not swing.

“Where are you going?” asked Rainbow, mystified. “The cake's over here.”

“Nowhere,” she sighed disappointedly as she headed back to the table.

Maybe she just needed to let the party reach its natural end and then the spell, or whatever, would be broken and they could all leave. What else was there to do?

She ate more cake and suddenly realized that she had yet to feel full even though she'd eaten a total of nine slices all together so far, more than an entire cake.

Pinkie hustled everyone through the rest of the party but tried to maintain her chipper and congenial disposition just in case this was real and this was the end of it. While it was difficult and annoying she didn't want to risk upsetting her friends over it.

Starting the party with cake seemed to make a few practically imperceptible differences in how things played out. Fluttershy poked the piñata a bit harder but still produced no candy of course. Rainbow came third closest in pin-the-tail-on-the-pony instead of last.

Pinkie tore through the presents at a hurried pace but still remembered to express gratitude and delight at each one.

“That was so much fun,” declared Pinkie with a conclusive air. “Great party, everyone. Thank you so much.” She looked around the table and then at the clock noting that she had indeed finished the party much sooner than the first time. Though it still felt like an eternity.

Applejack was always antsiest to leave because of how far away she lived. Pinkie watched her with great interest as the guinea pig that would prove if her wish theory held true.

“Bye, y'all.” Applejack put her hoof on the door.

“Surprise!”

The horror. She was back at the beginning. Pinkie hung her head in despair. She couldn't get out. They couldn't get out. This moment in time just seemed to be infinitely repeating and apparently she was the only one aware of it. How was this happening? Was it the wish that she couldn't take back?

Pinkie didn't actually want the party to last forever, she just wanted to feel happy in the way that the party made her feel. Of course the irony of having an endless party was that it sucked all the joy and novelty out and replaced it with predictable drudgery. Having her own party was fun but it was also emotionally exhausting. There was a continuous expectation placed upon her to smile and enjoy herself and she just couldn't.

“Are you okay, Pinkie?” asked Twilight with worry.

Pinkie looked up at her and stamped her hoof in protest. “No!” Without bothering to follow up her disgruntled outburst with an explanation she went over to the sink and whipped the curtains apart with the intent of trying to smash through the window. She stopped in her tracks as she saw what was on the other side of the glass. Nothing. Before her was nothing. There was nothing outside except a featureless void emitting a warm orange glow. It was as if Twilight's kitchen existed detached and alone in an infinite photography lightbox.

Pinkie looked back at her friends in terror and gestured urgently to the window. “Look! Look out the window! Does this not bother any of you? What is going on?”

Her friends looked at her like she was a talking tree but Twilight still came over.

“What do you see?” She looked outside.

“Surprise!”

The party reset again unexpectedly.

“What is happening?” shrieked Pinkie.

“It's your surprise birthday party,” laughed Rainbow.

Pinkie put her hooves to her cheeks and screamed, much to her friends’ delight.

“Wow, we really surprised you,” giggled Twilight. “I'm usually so bad at things like this.”

She began to breathe in short shallow breaths, her vision becoming fuzzy and white as her sanity and patience quickly began to erode.

Twilight helped her to her chair. “Why don't you just have a seat.”

“And some punch,” added Rarity, scooping a ladle of punch into a cup for her.

Pinkie rubbed her face with her hooves, trying to calm herself down.

“Let's do pin-the-tail-on-the-pony first and I'll go last,” she blurted, just trying to buy herself a chunk of time where she didn't have to be phony, engage with anyone or be the center of attention.

“Alright,” Rainbow celebrated with a hoofpump.

Their boundless energy was exhausting and wearing on her soul but so was their despair. Pinkie sat in her chair, demoralized, ignoring the game and her punch entirely. This was the closest she could get to a peaceful moment alone.

The words ‘It's your turn Pinkie,’ came all too soon. Pinkie opened her eyes and sighed as she stood up, then slogged over to the game as if reporting for jury duty. She put on the blindfold, took the tail in her teeth and thoughtlessly stuck it to the wall, because what did it matter?

Her friends groaned as she removed her blindfold and sat back down in her seat without even looking at the results.

“I won something?” blinked Fluttershy in astonishment.

“Let’s do piñata now,” droned Pinkie. “I’ll go last.”

“Uh, even after me?” asked Rainbow.

“Yep,” she sighed flippantly.

“Is something wrong?”

“Nope.”

“You're not upset about something, are you?”

“Nope.”

Her friends exchanged suspicious glances but prepared Fluttershy for another fruitless bout with the piñata. Pinkie put her head back down on the table and tried to go to sleep as everyone else took their swings. It was almost ten minutes before someone bothered her again.

“Your turn, Pinkie,” said Rainbow, holding out the bat and blindfold.

Pinkie grunted in annoyance as she arose from her chair again. She walked past her and instead approached the mostly intact piñata. She looked back at Rainbow with cold disappointment.

“You went easy on the piñata didn't you?” she accused flatly.

“No, of course not,” she laughed. “I never go easy on piñatas.”

Pinkie returned a deadpan stare, the same one her sister always gave.

“You wouldn't want me to just finish it off without you getting a turn, would you?” scoffed Rainbow in disbelief.

She gave no response but turned back around. When she looked she saw a tied noose hanging right in front of her from the rafters above as if waiting for her to step right into it. Pinkie recoiled in surprise. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. When she looked again the lightly damaged piñata was back at the end of the rope.

Rainbow appeared at her side with the bat and blindfold. “Here,” she offered.

Pinkie took the blindfold absently and slipped it on slowly. What was that? Her imagination? Was there even a line between imagination and reality anymore? Maybe she was starting to lose it.

Despite her apathy she was able to finish off the piñata on her turn. She walloped it on the side, tearing the fish in half and spilling candy everywhere. It scattered across the floor in a would-be gratifying staccato. Her friends cheered in celebration.

She lifted her blindfold figuring she should pick up some candy if she wanted to avoid having a conversation about her aloofness again. When she looked down she saw everyone collecting rocks from the ground. Pinkie blinked and the odd sight vanished. Shaking it off, she gathered the few candies laying at her hooves and called it good.

She returned to the table “Let's do pin-the-tail-on-the-pony I guess.”

“We already did that,” Rainbow pointed out before tossing a taffy in her mouth.

Pinkie scratched her head. “Oh yeah…” she muttered to herself, unsure but willing to take her word for it. It was getting difficult to remember where one party ended and the other began. “Uh…”

“Want to open presents next?” asked Twilight.

“Sure,” she droned, plopping back down into her seat like an angsty teen on a family trip they never wanted. “Let's see…” She pointed at each bag and parcel in sequence. “Blanket, measuring cups, little hat and tie for Gummy, lantern and helmet.”

Her friends looked back at her, dumbfounded in unanimous shock.

“How did you do that?” asked Rainbow, mystified.

“Pinkie sense,” she deadpanned. “Time for cake. I'll send you all thank you cards.”

Rarity pushed the cake in front of her and got out the birthday candles. Pinkie glanced down to see the cake that was as pink as she was but instead of a happy birthday message, it was covered in red score marks that looked like bloody cuts. Her mouth dropped open for a moment and she shook her head until it read Happy Birthday, Pinkie again. She squeezed her temples as if maybe that would stop the weird visions from getting in her brain.

When the ceremony was over, Pinkie scarfed down one slice of cake. Then she put her head down on the table and ignored everything that was said to her no matter how viscerally upsetting it sounded until she was abruptly yanked to her hooves again by someone’s attempted departure from the room.

“Surprise!”

She'd been dragged kicking and screaming out of relative tranquility and back into the same gyre of activity. She couldn't do it again; something inside her had snapped. Pinkie grinded her teeth in livid agitation. She hated that word now. She hated this party. She hated being put on the spot again and again in a scenario that didn't even matter.

“Shut up,” she bellowed back at them with an explosion of spittle. “You're not even real!” She pointed around the room at each one of their horrified faces. “None of you are real. This is some kind of soundstage in Purgatory or Sombra illusion or something and I’m done with it! I'm getting out of it right now!”

Pinkie marched past her friends over to the piñata. “Whoever you are, wherever you are, this is ending now! Discord? You can't trick me anymore because I don't care about anything!” She picked up the bat handle in her teeth and spun around. There sat Rarity in her chair, unsuspecting and defenseless, a stupefied look on her face.

Taking a page from Rainbow's book, Pinkie launched into a whip-like spin. The end of the bat connected hard with Rarity's muzzle eliciting a wet crunch and sending her straight down to the floor with a cascade of bloody broken teeth.

There came an uproar of shock and terror and toppling chairs.

“What have you done?” cried Twilight.

Pinkie turned her eyes on Applejack who moved in quickly to subdue her.

Fluttershy, screaming, ran for the door.

“Surprise!”

Without missing a beat, Pinkie continued her unhinged raving. “It’s you! You’re doing this! You're all smiling; you think this is funny?”

Her friends fell silent. Fluttershy cowered behind Applejack.

“You're ruining my birthday,” she seethed. “How could you? My birthday! I already had my birthday ruined today! You're either all in on it or one of you is controlling everything! Twilight?” She turned to the unicorn next to her with wild eyes.

Twilight shook her head fearfully.

“Twilight, you’re the only one who could possibly pull this off. I’m not stupid! Why would you do this to me?”

“Pinkie, no one's doing anything to you. We just wanted to throw you a surprise party.”

“You're keeping me here,” she stamped her shaking hoof on the floor. “I just want to go home and you're keeping me here!”

Pinkie lunged at her in a blind rage, flinging her back against the wall where they both fell to the floor. Twilight cried out as her assailant's flailing hooves struck her face.

“Hey!”

Rainbow swooped in and put her in a headlock to restrain her.

“Get off of me,” she snarled.

Pinkie threw herself down on the floor trying to shake her off and began to roll. They grunted as she tried to leverage her own weight to crush Rainbow into submission.

“Surprise!”

Pinkie dropped to her haunches and began to laugh at the futility and the pointlessness of everything. Her laughter grew into wild cackling as the smiles began to disappear from the room. She collapsed to the floor in manic spasms, running out of breath, crumpling into a ball and hissing like a snake.

“Pinkie are you okay?”

“Pinkie are you okay?” she parroted back at Twilight in a mocking tone.

She stood up wobbling and wheezing for air, then galloped to the sink. She hopped on to the counter tearing the curtains aside to reveal the nothingness beyond. Unsteady over the sink she turned around and bucked the window as hard as she could. The glass didn't shatter; it didn't even flex from the blow.

“What are you doing?” cried Twilight. “Have you gone insane?”

Pinkie ignored her and continued bucking the window furiously until she lost her balance and fell to the floor with a thud.

Her friends gasped an alarm but Pinkie appeared unbothered by her spill.

“Of course,” she giggled. “Of course it doesn't break. Why would it break? That would just be too easy!”

“She's had a rough day,” explained Twilight to the rest. “Maybe we should just give her a little break for now.”

Pinkie stayed on her side, lungs heaving as she stared through a jungle of legs.

“I think… I want some cake now,” she gasped.

“Uh, okay,” agreed Twilight warily. “This party is for you and we just want you to enjoy it.”

Pinkie stood up calmly but still panting shakily, hair disheveled. She took a seat at the head of the table and waited patiently for them to prepare the cake.

They lit the candles. Their singing was notably weaker and a little off. Pinkie nodded along in time with a faraway look in her eyes. At the end she blew out all the candles with one breath. She’d soured the mood of the party so effectively that Applejack didn't even comment on her accomplishment.

Rarity pulled out the candles, picked up the knife in her magic and floated it over the double chocolate cake.

“Um, can I cut the cake, Rarity?” asked the birthday girl abruptly.

Rarity's eyes flicked over to her, the knife idling in her grasp. “Oh, um… I don't know if that's a good-”

Pinkie grinned weakly. “I love cutting cakes. Please? for my birthday?”

“Well…” Rarity looked at Twilight for some kind of guidance and then back at her. She floated the blade to her slowly, handle first.

Pinkie’s smile widened as the knife neared her. She clamped the handle between her hooves. “Thank you, Rarity.” She swallowed as the rest of the table waited tensely for her to proceed. Instead Pinkie’s eyes seemed to run up and down the length of the shiny blade. Her smile vanished. She rotated the knife in her hooves and then planted it point up on the edge of the table in front of her with a hard knock.

Everyone’s mouth went dry. Pinkie imagined cold metal plunging through the soft part under her chin as she flopped over atop it. She suddenly felt the knife wrench from her grip. The blade missed the intended target but sliced across the side of her throat. She felt a warm river spout forth and pour down her front. Bright red splashed onto the table. She coughed as the taste of iron filled her mouth.

There were gasps and screams all around. Pinkie fell sideways from her chair. Twilight quickly rolled her over and propped her up.

“Pinkie, why would you do that?” She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“I don't know,” she gurgled weakly, looking up at her. “I need to do something to make it stop.” Her expression was oddly placid and indifferent. “I’m sorry…”

Twilight pressed her hooves against her squirting throat. “It's really deep. Rarity, get me dish towels. Rainbow, go grab the first aid kit from the downstairs bathroom.”

“On it!”

Pinkie blinked and suddenly she was standing back upright near the door as she had already done several times before. But this time no one shouted ‘surprise.’ In fact no one was there at all. Twilight's kitchen was empty. Everything was set up for the party but her friends weren’t there.

“Hello?” she called to the silence.

No one answered. The room was small enough that it was plain to see no one was there. She took a step forward and quickly noticed the blood. It was still there pooled on the table and smeared on the floor where she'd laid. It looked darker now. Pinkie felt the side of her throat with one hoof but couldn't find her cut nor could she find any signs of blood on her undercarriage even when she could remember distinctly the feeling of the hot sticky mess she'd made.

She wandered around the rooms and half-heartedly checked the two doors which still refused to open. She paused in front of the sink and switched on the faucet. Water came out which was a little surprising to her. She stared into the drain, watching the water go down. The white noise it made in the basin was soothing in a way she had yet to find elsewhere in this place.

Pinkie left the sink running and sat down at her spot at the head of the table. She examined the bloodstain there. Touching it with her hoof revealed that it was dry. That was strange but then again everything was. Something was finally different this time.

She looked around the table at the balloons tied to the chairs and suddenly noticed the faces drawn on them. They looked like crude reproductions of her friends' likenesses. The fact that the balloons themselves were also the same colors of their coats seemed to validate the theory. She scratched her head in bewilderment. The blood she sort of understood but the balloons didn't look like this before.

She frowned but accepted the changes with a palpable uneasiness. In one way this was what she desperately needed, a little break. She laid her head down on the patch of red wood, sighed heavily and closed her eyes. Was this all there was now? Just her and the balloons alone forever? Was it hurting herself that had spurred this change? Now no one could stop her from trying again. No one could reset the party either, she realized.

Pinkie laid slumped over the table for an eternity. She didn't know how long; she didn’t care. It didn't matter. She had yet to open her eyes but she was certain that it was night now, whatever that meant. The floor was probably more comfortable than the chair but when she got like this, lost her own mind or outer space, she could never muster the willpower to force her body to move. It had been a problem since she could remember, one of the most damnable inadequacies a pony could suffer. The words in her head weren’t her own. They were-

“Pinkamena Diane Pie.”

The booming voice turned her blood to ice. She shot up rigid in her seat to see that she was no longer in Twilight's party ready kitchen. She was back at the rock farm sitting at the dinner table. The room was drab, stark and dim except for a pair of lamps at the opposite end behind a very familiar looking silhouette. Flanking the sides of the table were her mother and three sisters. They did not turn to look at her but instead sat in their chairs, motionless and staring directly across at one another with blank expressions.

“Thy slothful frailties harm us all,” rumbled her father contemptuously. His form was that of a dark hat and pair of mutton chop sideburns. The only feature she could see in his face was the glint of his hard eyes.

“I- I'm sorry,” she quivered submissively.

“Have thee nothing to say for thyself?”

Her forehooves trembled. “I just wanted to see my sisters on my birthday, that's not wrong.”

“Thou hast forsaken the virtues of austerity and temperance for hedonism and excess.”

Her throat felt like it was being squeezed shut with fear. “No, I just like feeling happy sometimes,” she cried.

“I’ll not allow thee to bring a blight upon this house. This is a sickness that must be cleansed.”

Pinkie heard a creak and a groan from behind. Her eyes widened with terror. She turned her head slowly to look back and saw the buttressed opening of the gem mine yawning wider than she could even remember. The opening had merged with the house, taking up the whole wall. A blast of cold air hit her like the breath of some ancient leviathan poised to attack.

She looked back at her father and shook her head desperately. “No, please,” she begged. “Not the dark. I'll do anything else. Take my food for a week. Make me pull the wagon alone. Anything but that.”

“‘Tis not thee who fears the darkness but the sins that dwell within thee,” argued her stone-faced mother without turning to look at her.

There came a sudden gust of wind that swept Pinkie backward in her chair. She flailed her limbs, tipping over and hitting the floor with a grunt. Then she began to slide away as the gale intensified, pushing her from the table, no, it was sucking her into the mine. The chair tumbled away into the darkness as she stretched out her hooves in desperation, trying to anchor herself in place. They scratched across the floorboards as she began to lose ground faster and faster.

All at once she lost her grip and shot backward as if in freefall. The image of her family shrank quickly in the distance until it was just a pinpoint of light and then nothing at all. Pinkie screamed, her voice echoing through the cavern around her. She went tumbling and rolled to a stop sprawled out on the cold floor.

The wind was gone. There was no light and the only sound she could hear was her own labored breathing. In the air was a familiar earthy dankness. Instinctively she curled up into a ball and began to sob.

“I'm not bad. I'm not bad. I'm not bad. Please, I'm trying. I don't know how to be any better.”

The whole world felt like it was swirling beneath her as she spiraled through a cloud of all of her most awful thoughts.

I don't deserve happiness.

It would have been better for everyone if I was never born.

Hurt yourself.

Every time she was sent to the mine as punishment she feared there was something there in the dark waiting to devour her. Now she just wished it would.

She did hear something or someone now that she thought about it. She wasn't sure how long they'd been speaking, because it melted together with the voices in her head, but suddenly she became aware of a presence.

There came a distant shout echoing out of the dark. “Pinkie?” it called. It sounded familiar.

Her ears perked up in surprise. Someone was looking for her? Why? “Help,” she cried shakily in response.

“She's here,” exclaimed the voice which sounded a lot like Twilight. Who was she talking to?

“Keep talking,” shouted another voice that sounded like Rainbow Dash.

“Help me, please. I'm over here.” Pinkie stood up slowly and spun around, looking for signs of life. There came a faint glow from far away down the passage.

“I can see your light,” she gasped, walking forward. There were pony shaped shadows dancing on the wall where the light continued to grow. Then the bobbing flame of an old lantern appeared around the corner surrounded by all of her friends.

“I see you,” she cried, beginning to run toward them.

“We see you too.”

She could make out their smiles now. The mine continued to brighten around them as if mirroring her joy. By the time they joined it was blinding white.

Pinkie opened her eyes to see her cake topped with flickering candles that were burnt most of the way down. No one yelled ‘surprise.’ They just sat around waiting patiently but with concerned expressions.

“Pinkie, why are you crying?” asked Fluttershy.

She stroked her own cheek with one hoof and saw that it came away wet and glistening. She swallowed. “I think I need help.”

For a moment everyone was quiet.

“We know,” said Applejack finally. “We've just been waitin’ for ya ta accept it.

“I'm sorry.” she sobbed, hanging her head in shame.

Twilight put a comforting foreleg around her. “You don't have anything to be sorry for,” she began. “We wouldn't be very good friends if we didn't let you share your burdens with us but we also wouldn't be very good friends if we didn't respect your privacy. We just want what's best for you.”

Pinkie covered her eyes as the tears came down. “I've felt messed up inside for a long time. I try so hard to pretend that I'm not but it's still always there. Today was really hard for me but I don't want to just unload on you guys, especially on my birthday and especially while my candles are still burning.” She waved a hoof at the cake.

“Well, I think I speak for everyone here when I say we're ready to listen whenever you're ready to speak.”

Her friends all nodded supportively.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I really appreciate what you did for me today.”

Applejack pointed urgently to the cake and its host of wax puddles. “If ya hurry, ya can still blow out the candles before they burn out themselves.”

“Make a wish, Pinkie,”

Pinkie quickly closed her eyes and made a wish to be happy. Then she hunched over the table and blew out the withering candles in a single breath, making quite a lot of smoke.

“Ya got all of ‘em,” laughed Applejack.

“It's nice to actually get full use out of a set of birthday candles for once,” quipped Rainbow.

Rarity set to work removing the candles and their plethora of wax. She tried to save as much of the frosting as she could. Soon she was passing around slices of the highly anticipated treat.

Though it was a bit rumpled and mottled, it was the best tasting cake Pinkie had ever experienced but she knew it was boosted by her mood.

“Just telling you that made me feel a little better about everything,” she said. It's like a weight was lifted off my back.”

Pinkie only ate two slices, saving one for later.

“That was such a nice party we threw,” chimed Rarity.

Pinkie didn't feel a burst of overwhelming sadness as the party began to break up. Even though today had been hard, it was also fun and ended on a high note. There were still problems but she felt comfort and hope for tomorrow even without any parties scheduled. She did involuntarily hold her breath watching Applejack push the door open to leave the kitchen though.

Soon it was just Twilight and Pinkie left in a mostly clean room.

“Need any help?” asked Twilight.

Pinkie finished tying her gifts and her boxed slice of cake into the blanket Fluttershy had given her. Then she set it on her back. “No. I think I got everything,” she smiled.

She turned up the wick in her new old lantern to make it brighter and clasped the handle in her teeth. She spared one last glance back at her friend.

“See ya later.”

“Goodbye, Pinkie.”

Pinkie nudged the kitchen door open which, in itself, felt a little empowering. She left Twilight's house and walked home through the dark.

Author's Note

If you’d like to support this insanity, you can buy one of my novels.