The Past Life of Pinkamena Diane Pie

Chapters

Why Am I Pink? (Wednesday, October 11th)
Searching For Answers After The Accident (Wednesday, October 11th)
Pianos Falling From The Sky (Wednesday, October 11th)
Fruity Pebble Scuba Diving (Thursday, October 12th)
I Am Just A Poor Little Filly! (Thursday, October 12th)
Accusations and Apologies (Thursday, October 12th & Friday, October 13th)
Hungry (Friday, October 13th)
The Ritual (Friday, October 13th)
What Lead Me To Ponyville (Friday, October 13th - Tuesday, October 17th)
A New Home
An Awaiting Decision
A New, Kind Friend
Just Another Day On The Farm (Tuesday, October 10th)

Why Am I Pink? (Wednesday, October 11th)

Wednesday, October 11

I was born a pink mare with a straight, uncurled mane. There lay the rest of my family, with other features that I do not share. I often think I might have been adopted. Gertrude and Helga share the same bland hues, while I am bright pink. The color of my coat clearly does not reflect on my life. My luminescent mane was just a visual. The real deep truth was full of darkness. Pa never treated me well, and never wondered about my feelings or beliefs, and Ma never talked to me. Helga was a bully, and like me, Gertrude was silent. Except Gertrude could hide pain better than I could hide my sautéed rock in my milk, if that actually worked, that is. I don’t understand how I turned out pink. My parents refuse to tell me anything, and that makes me very suspicious. Oh well. I need to go wash the pebbles, or, that’s what Pa’s yelling throughout our cottage. My eye twitched for a second, and I rubbed my eye and ignored it. I heard the slam of a door, and a loud slurred scream of anger. I ran outside, expecting there was a bug, and Gertrude had yelled, but then… I walked outside to find my father screaming and crying at his bird cage. I heard a “drip drip drop” noise, sounding almost like water on the floor. I soon realized this “water” noise, was blood dripping into the dirt.

Searching For Answers After The Accident (Wednesday, October 11th)

Wednesday, October 11 (after the accident)

My father’s precious parrot died a mysterious gory death, and was soon replaced by a crow that he found somehow surviving in one of our dead trees. Pa always had to have a pet, otherwise he would go insane, and would have no one to talk to about the rocks. The way I stay sane, is talking to you, of course, my dear diary. I walked outside to see how everyone was managing after the loss of Harriet. Pa was crying, and cradling himself in his chair. It hurt me to see him this way. I went to touch his arm and tell him it would be okay, but he smacked my hoof. I held my hoof and walked away angrily. I can’t believe he would do such a thing. SMACK HIS DAUGHTER? HOW RUDE. HOW. UTTERLY. RUDE. I went to grab a glass of ice water to help me cool off and calm down. I grabbed my glass and grabbed a seat at our stone table. My hoof was sore, so I rested it on the side of the glass, to soothe the pain. I can’t believe MY own father, of my blood, slapped me. I am so angry. Well, I at least think we’re of the same blood. Are we? Different coat colors, different personalities? Is it possible? Something needs to be done. Something needs to be asked.

That night, I decided to ask my parents about my coat.

“Father, why is my coat pink, while yours and ma’s are of different colors?”

Father stuttered a bit, soon to be followed by “Yo-You are our daughter, and I am aa-aabs-absolutely sure of it, d-daa-darling.”

“But I don’t look like you, Pa! I don’t look like Ma, either! Was I dropped from the sky or something?” I asked, angrily.

“H-honey,” My mother spoke up, “You are ours. You are definitely born into this family. Now stop asking questions and go up to your room!”

“ But Ma!” I protested, soon to be pushed up the stairs into my bedroom.
They wouldn’t answer my questions. Why? Is there something they’re trying to hide? Whatever, I thought. They probably just don’t want me to be asking such “preposterous” – I recall them calling them this when I was younger and curious – questions. It was unfair, but what else could I really do about it? I wish I could just read minds. My eyes were struggling to stay open as I peered out the window. It must have been far past my bed time as I stared out into the dark, empty, moonless night sky, and I soon passed out on my bed. Suddenly, I overheard a large crash. My hair stood straight up, and I sat up in my bed. I heard the scream of Gertrude. I stepped from my bed and grabbed a rock, so I could kill any bug she found, and grabbed a broom to clean up whatever she had smashed in the process of her freak-out. But when I walked into the room, I found out there was a different mess to be cleaned up.

Pianos Falling From The Sky (Wednesday, October 11th)

Wednesday, October 11th

As I stepped into the room, my hoof was immediately wet. I was confused. I rubbed my eyes trying to make things clearer, for I had just been rudely awakened. Had she dropped a vase? No. It was too wet. I suddenly realized…She really hadn’t. She hadn’t dropped anything. There was no spider. There was no ladybug. I looked straight ahead, and a hole was torn into the ceiling. I looked down, and there lay Pa, underneath a baby grand piano. Blood covered the floor and dipped deep into our carpets, leaving it to be stained permanently. I screamed in terror and fright. Ma came running as soon as she heard me. We all cried. We had no clue what to do. Our main guide was killed. And in the middle of our living room, underneath a piano, we were all in shock. Gertrude passed out on the floor, Helga was sobbing and removing his hat, and mother sat and cried. I stood up “What are we supposed to do?! This piano is too heavy for anypony, especially three helpless mares, to carry! Has there ever been anyone else around? What are we to do?”. Mother cried, louder and louder. She walked out of the room, and as I followed, I tripped over a rock. USELESS. DUMB. ROCKS. WHY DO WE EVEN LIVE ON A ROCK FARM ANYWAYS?! ROCKS ARE STUPID! I stomped to my room as I thought all these thoughts. I sobbed. I was mad, but I never wanted him to die. How often do pianos fall out of the sky anyways? Never! How could this have happened? First the parrot, now him? Is this all centered around him? Are WE in danger?

Fruity Pebble Scuba Diving (Thursday, October 12th)

Thursday, October 12
I awoke in the morning with my mane a jumbled mess, and my pillow soaked. I sat up all night repeating the question “What could have lead to the deaths?” but I knew there was no logical explanation for any of it. I rose from my bed and stood still a moment. It couldn’t have been you, could it? No. No way. But who else knows Pa? WAS it accidental? Or did Ma do it? Or Gertrude or Helga? OH MY GOODNESS NO. I need to stop blaming ponies for his death. It was absolutely accidental. Or at least that’s all I could believe. Pianos usually don’t fall out of the sky, but I mean, how else was someone going to drop a piano on my father?! We have no heavy machinery for carrying such massive objects! I continued to think as I scratched my head. How could it have happened? I can’t clear the image from my mind. My poor father lay flat underneath the heavy musical device… What if it wasn’t accidental? What if aliens did it? Heck, what am I thinking?! Aliens don’t exist! Ponies hardly exist. I stretched and stood from my bed. How could this have happened? It must be supernatural. It has to be unless yesterday, somepony decided to throw a piano at our house. Do other ponies even exist? How are we going to survive without Pa? He was our leader. Our last piece of hope! I’m not sure what we’ll do. I’m not sure how we’ll remove his body and perform the rock ritual. We need a stallion in order to perform the ceremony. We’re hopeless. No one else knows how to harvest the rocks as well as he does! It’ll take days! I need to clear my mind, I thought to myself. I rubbed my eyes and stepped down the stairs one at a time. I heard my mother sobbing at the table. I went out to have some Fruity Pebbles, my favorite cereal, and sat down at the table across from my messy crying mother. She sobbed and removed her glasses, soon to blow her nose again. She yawned and pressed her face on the table.

I said “Ma, it’s okay. Please calm down” before she screamed “HES IN THE LIVING ROOM STILL! HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO LIVE HERE?! ITS ALL YOUR FAULT! ITS ALL YOUR FAULT PINKAMENA DIANE PIE! ITS ALL YOUR FAULT! APOLOGIZE! APOLOGIZE NOW!”

I started to cry and ask her to stop. I didn’t know what to do.

She grabbed my mane “SAY YOU’RE SORRY!”

I screamed “I DIDN’T DO IT, MA! I DIDN’T DO IT! LET GO! IT HURTS!”

She shoved my face into my cereal. The pebbles hurt my face. She laughed, and continued laughing as I was drowned in my cereal. She did it, I thought. I know she did it. I’m losing air. I.. can’t… breathe… I… can’t.. think… and then my tail twitched, and Ma’s eyes grew wide. She fell onto the ground, and coughed blood.

I Am Just A Poor Little Filly! (Thursday, October 12th)

Thursday, October 12

Ma lay on the floor, breathlessly laying still. I bend down to shake her to see if she’s got a pulse. Heck, I was having a hard time breathing myself, after being drowned in my own cereal. I was so scared. Ma must have done it, right? She was so angry… Sure, Pa just died… but, drowning me? What was she trying to do, kill me? What if she did? Oh no.. I need to stop thinking… I decided to put that little fiasco behind for now. My mother, my last parent, was near death on the floor, and this was the third time someone had been mysteriously injured. There was no explanation, but no time to worry. I need to save her, even if she tried to kill me! I love her. Ma has been there forever. And even if she may not really be my biological mother (I still don’t believe them), she’s my mother. Her eyes were rolling to the back of her head. I tried everything. Mouth revival, the Heimlich maneuver, everything I could do had been tried. Her eyes slowly rolled all the way back into her head, leaving her eyes blank, soulless and empty. I closed her eyelids so that she wouldn’t be looking at me. I felt horrible. This is all my fault. Why didn’t I fix it? I had to have been able to do something! I sat there helplessly and cried, covered in my mother’s coughed up blood.

I cried for what seemed like twenty minutes. I couldn’t talk. I was speechless. My mother had died as well as my father, and my sisters were upstairs probably playing with their favorite rocks, and they had no idea what has happened. I screamed for my clueless sisters, hoping to get some comforting understanding advice, but I knew that this was probably too much to ask for. They reacted as though I had taken a baseball bat to our mother and made her this way. They thought I had done it, and I can’t really blame them for having that idea in their head since I was wearing her blood, and they hadn’t seen that I was trying to get her to breathe and get back up because by the time I called them into the room, she was long gone. I told them that every time I did something, she coughed up more blood and there was nothing I could have done. They didn’t listen to anything I said, and they ran upstairs to cry and blame me behind my back. I bawled uncontrollably. Both of my parents, dead, in my house, and I have no clue what to do. What am I supposed to do anyways? No one lives within several miles of here, and I am alone, with two dead bodies, and two young fillies who refuse to listen to me, their own sister. Oh wait; I may not even be their real sister! Well this is depressing. I sat down and tried to pull myself together. The girls weren’t going to listen. There was no way to do this. No way to make them happy. Not a million dollars would make these fillies place a hoof outside of that door. I am so lonely… I’m all alone… They have each other, and I have no one. I don’t know what to do… I shouldn’t have to be worrying… I’m so young.. This shouldn’t be my problem! I’m just a filly!

I did the only thing I could do. Wait. Wait for another disaster. This sounds horrible, but I really didn’t know of another solution. I cried a bit more, but really, what is crying going to help? I have one room left for my own sanity. My bedroom was the only place I could call sanctuary. How was I supposed to deal with this? None of them love me anymore! Two of them aren’t ALIVE to love me anymore! This is horrible! If I wait for another accident, it’ll be me, or them. And if it’s them, well, I don’t know what to do. I realized that if it’s me, the pain and suffering is gone, so maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad! If they die, I’ll have to find some way to live on. I decided that the disaster should be happening somewhat soon, since all the others had, and I went upstairs to say my goodbyes. I wasn’t going to blame all of this on Ma. If Ma did it, we’d know. I tripped up the stairs and hit my head on the railing. Suddenly, whilst rubbing my head from the new lump upon it, I heard a gasp. I heard it, but disregarded it, and kept walking to their bedroom. Until I heard a high-pitched scream. No wait… Two high pitched screams

Accusations and Apologies (Thursday, October 12th & Friday, October 13th)

Thursday, October 12th

I quickly threw open the door to see Gertrude, flailing and crying with a spider in front of her. I sighed. THANK GOODNESS IT’S JUST A SPIDER. I ran up to it and pressed my front hoof down on it hard so it smeared into their carpet. PHEW! Close one! I turned my back to them, and started to walk out the door, rubbing spider guts off the bottom of my hoof on the way out, when suddenly, I heard a “Hey..” and I turned around, confused.

“Yes?” I replied.

“Was it you who really did it, Pinkamena?” The girls cried.

I started to answer, “No… I mean… I-“, but I was interrupted halfway.

Gertrude screamed “Did you, or didn’t you?!”

“If I did, it wasn’t intentional!”

Helga started to sob “GET OUT, YOU BLOODY PINK MESS! HOW DARE YOU?!”

I started to protest, but was soon shoved out the door of their bedroom.

Was it me? I don’t know. I went to my room. I pulled out my journal and began to write all of my feelings right here, where you are reading. It couldn’t have been me, could it? No way. NO WAY. And it wasn’t Gertrude or Helga, they’re too innocent. Why would anyone force this upon us ponies? Poor Helga and Gertrude, they’re probably crying their eyes out right now. I wish I had some comfort. I have no one to love, and no one to love me. “I am so scared. I don’t know how to deal with this.” I thought. I rub my eyes with my hands, trying to get rid of the sleepiness. In the process, my bloody hooves spread the blood to my face and I shrieked.

“I need to get this stuff off of me!” I screamed, as I went to take a shower.

I scrubbed up, making sure to get every last bit of my mother’s DNA out of my mane and off my coat. Finally, I got it all out, and was ready to brush my mane a bit so that it stayed in the flat form it is always in. Luckily, I got out of the shower, and my hair was already perfect. I looked at my eyes, which had bags hanging deep down from them. I was so tired. When was the last time I got some real sleep? Ever since Pa passed, all nights have been filled with nightmares that I cannot sleep through without shouting and bawling. I realized that I hadn’t actually slept in days. I was too worried about what would happen next. I went up to my room, avoiding the corpses downstairs. I knew I’d have to go down there eventually, because food is a very important part of living, but I regret the thought of stepping over my mother’s carcass to grab myself a glass of water. I never really liked my parents, because they didn’t know about me, but I can’t say I don’t miss them. Wow it’s late. I don’t want to sleep yet, though. I just want to figure out these weird mysterious deaths. I’m tired of people dying. Maybe this was the last one! I yawned, and slowly fell over into a deep sleep.
________________________________________________________________________________

Friday, October 13th

It was morning, and I sat up, not recalling any nightmares from the night before. I rubbed my eyes and tried to remove any eye goop from them. I suddenly smelled a waft of something burning. I immediately thought the house was on fire, and grabbed a fire extinguisher. I ran to Helga and Gertrude’s room. It was empty. I had a hard time carrying the extinguisher, but it’s my life, or my comfort. I got very scared, and checked the bathroom, the living room, and then finally, the kitchen. Mother’s dead body was gone. Where did it go? I looked up from the ground where mom’s body used to lay, to see Gertrude and Helga setting up the table for a meal.

“What are you guys doing?” I asked as I tilted my head.

They replied with a very intone voice “We’re making you breakfast. We wanted to apologize for accusing you. We realized that you must have been having a hard time too, and were covered in her blood because you were trying to revive her. We understand now.”

“I’m glad you finally understand. Where’d mom’s body go?” I asked with a great amount of curiosity.

"We put her out back. We didn’t want her in the kitchen anymore, and we noticed that she was quite lighter than we thought, so we both could just carry her out there like no big deal.”

I nodded and told them it was okay as I sat at the table. “So what’s on the menu?”

“Rocks Benedict.” They replied.

"Thanks for making me breakfast, guys.” I said.

They nodded.

The rest of that day was fine and dandy… Until night.

Hungry (Friday, October 13th)

Friday, October 13th

Well, it was nighttime. The sunset told me it was nearly seven, and that meant dinner. My tummy told me that too. The stomach grumbles became louder and louder, although nothing Helga or Gertrude would make would satisfy my appetite. I tried to get rid of these grumbles and say I wasn’t hungry, but the sisters could see through my lie and were hurt. I really didn’t care. I couldn’t eat that gunk. They were making greasy burnt rock, and its smell was horrid. I sat there and breathed through my mouth. I couldn’t stand the revolting stench of the burnt rocks. I was risking the chance of lung cancer by breathing in the first place.

I excused myself to the restroom to catch some air. I breathed deeply as I stood in our tiny restroom. I rubbed my eyes clear of smoke that had risen from the rocks. My eyes were red and swollen from the clouds that had run into my eyes. My right eye twitched a little, and my ear flopped in response. I rubbed my eyes a little more and turned on the water. I washed my face off and went out back to the kitchen, hoping my eyes would quit swelling and calm down. My eyes still being irritated, I couldn’t see much, and continued to rub my eyes clear. It also didn’t help that smoke kept filling the room. I sat at the table, and waited for my disgusting meal to be placed in front of me.

“So, what exactly are you guys making?” I asked. I waited for a response, but one never came. “So, what exactly are you guys making?” I said louder, expecting that they didn’t hear. The smoke still filled the kitchen and dining room, and I couldn’t see anything. It didn’t sound like they were even in the kitchen!

I stood up, still trying to see through my fogged up irritated eyes, and couldn’t see past the smoke. I was surprised the cottage hadn’t caught fire. I suddenly realized that if I wasn’t careful, the cottage WOULD burn down! I panicked, and stumbled around the kitchen blindly, looking for the fire extinguisher. It was nowhere in sight, and I definitely wasn’t finding it with my hooves. I tried to use my voice again. I screamed and screamed and screamed, and I didn’t get a single result from it. I ran around waving my arms, clearing smoke from wherever I stood, so I could see a good distance of three feet in front of me as I waved my arms unprofessionally.

“Helga? Gertrude?” I yelled as I flailed my hooves around in the kitchen, finding no one. The kitchen was empty. I walked outside. No one was there. I continued to call out for my missing siblings. They’re not in the kitchen, they’re not in the bathroom, they’re not in the bedrooms, they aren’t in the living room, and there’s nowhere else to look! Well, there’s always the old rusty silo thingy. What is that even called anyways? I decided I’d walk down there for a peek, and there was nothing of importance inside. A light bulb hung from the ceiling, flickering on and off, and mother lay in the middle of the building. I jumped, afraid of what I had come across, but realized it was my mother’s corpse, and shut the door and turned away. Where were those girls?

I went back inside, not surprised to hear the oven’s timer ring and smoke filling the room even more than it had a while before. I quickly shut off the oven, and tried to clear the smoke out. I ran throughout the cottage waving my arms around trying to push it away. I finally cleared it up a little, and I went to the kitchen. Where in the world are they? Oh yeah, the oven’s timer went off, might as well pull the meal out of the oven. I grabbed a heat protective mitt, and opened up the door. And the second I did, the oven mitt fell to the ground, as did my jaw.

The Ritual (Friday, October 13th)

Friday, October 13th

I stared into the oven with utter shock and dismay at what I had found inside it. Was that really…? No way… This is all a bad nightmare, I thought. I rubbed my eyes, hoping it was all a hallucination, or my eyes were possibly still irritated and that was what had distorted my view of the meal inside the oven. But it wasn’t. Everything was as clear as day. I found two bodies inside the oven. The bodies of my dear filly sisters lay in a supine position in the oven. They were decapitated. Their heads were departed from their bodies, but I wasn’t going to go look around for them. The shock took over my body. I couldn’t move. I was still as stone. Emotional shock and stress hold me in one place. I couldn’t cry, and I couldn’t feel anything. Not even pain, or depression. I couldn’t do anything. I was upset, sure, but it was nothing that hadn’t already happened before. I stood in utter shock, ready to scream and wail. But I thought it all through before I really had. Should I go and scream? No one is within a few miles of here, and I’m alone with the dead bodies of my family. How am I supposed to live here with all of these carcasses, and no food, and no proper rock training?!

I realized that sooner or later, I’d need to remove the bodies from the house if I were to continue living here. My parents used to talk about this weird ritual that had been passed down through my family. He said that if anyone died, and we set up the ritual, a strange woman would arrive and revive the person from the dead, and allow their spirit to roam. I wondered if this would work, and tried to remember everything from that conversation we had a few years ago.

I created small little rock memorials set up for each of my dead relatives. There was a circle of rocks to go around their body, and their name was carved into a stone that would lie above their heads (or for Gertrude and Helga, their necks), and I carved their cutie mark into a rock as well. Father’s little pickaxe was carved into his rock, and mother had her three stones carved into her rock. Poor Gertrude and Helga hadn’t even gotten their cutie marks yet. What a shame! I declared them “Blank Flanks” and gave them a clear rock without anything carved into it.

I had everything perfectly set up… except for one thing. The bodies were too weighty. The memorials were pointless without the bodies. I had tried to bring ma out of the silo, and I succeeded in doing so, but her body practically fell apart in my arms. I shuddered as I stared at the nasty, decomposed body of my mother. I realized this may have been disturbing her peace, so I looked away. How would I do this? I easily placed Gertrude and Helga into their spots in the ritual. I went to look at Pa. I realized it had been two days since Pa was underneath that piano. He’d be sure to be a rotting, smelly mess. I couldn’t lift a piano, and his body would definitely not come out whole if I tried to pull his heavy body out from underneath the instrument. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but I took Pa’s arm, and threw it in his place for the ritual. I lifted Ma, and put whatever would stay intact into the rock circle. Everything should work now. The only thing I was worried about was the fact not ALL of the body made it there for Pa or Ma. But soon enough, I turned my head to the right and looked at the cottage.

Suddenly, a massive cloud of mist covered our property. I couldn’t see through the fog, but I knew someone would be there if this happened to be the woman from the ritual. I stood still in order to keep from tripping over their corpses due to my temporary blindness. It was silent, and not a single noise came from me or another woman. I waited for several minutes in the deep puffs of mist and fog, soon to hear a faded voice call out “Pinkamena? Pinkamena is that you?”

“Hello?” I called out somewhat harshly, on accident due to surprise.

“Is that you Pinkamena?” asked a quiet voice.

I replied with excitement. Had it worked? “Yes. It’s me. It’s Pinkamena. Who are you?”

All of a sudden, the fog cleared, and everything was bright. I could see transparent figures standing before me, even grayer than before. It was upsetting, but I was overjoyed to see them again. I ran at Ma. I felt so horrible. Was it all my fault like she said? I was a centimeter away from Ma before I fell through her. It upset me so much. Gertrude and Helga’s ghosts were sobbing and apologizing, so I couldn’t hear anything my mother said. All I picked up was the name “Zecora”. I decided not to push it further, because I missed them so much, and this wasn’t time for questions. Father stood still, unharmed by any of the incidents. I decided not to be hurt by this, because I was confused on how to feel as well.

Soon enough, I realized that it was Friday and ignored the joy I should have been feeling at this reunion. I wasn't happy. There was never smiling, and there never would be. Not here. This Friday was the day the south field’s rocks to be rotated to the east field! It was still early! I had time! I looked at the cottage searching for the wheelbarrow to set up for Helga and Gertrude while I was busy rotating so they could harvest early, but I was frozen for a moment. A pony.. No… A zebra stood facing away from the cottage. As I stared at the woman, everypony went inside. A zebra with a sun in place of a cutie mark... and she started to walk away and fade in the distance. And that was when I called out for her. It was the woman. The very woman I was looking for. It was the very woman that revived my family.

What Lead Me To Ponyville (Friday, October 13th - Tuesday, October 17th)

Friday, October 13th

Who was this mysterious woman? Could it be the ritual lady? I think so. I went to ask Ma, but she went inside. The zebra woman stood still, frozen by my “Hey! Who are you?” that I screamed a few moments earlier.

I screamed across our farm “I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYPONY BESIDES US AROUND HERE! I’M PINKAMENA! WHATS YOUR NAME?”

Suddenly, she bolted into the forest, and I was oh so very curious, so I followed her. It was a dumb idea, but I went deep into the spooky forest chasing her. This forest was full of dead trees, and it always seemed like something would live in it, but I would never ever check for myself. That is, until today. I chased this zebra until we came to a tree where the woman needed to rest. I was tired myself, being a little filly and all.

The woman’s deep, dark accent boomed through the forest “Leave me now, child! This is not safe for you, or for me! Run off! Shoo!”

I was shocked by her tone, and jumped a bit “Did you.. uh.. Bring them back?”
The zebra woman rolled her eyes at me “It doesn’t matter. I will never answer any of your silly questions. Leave me in peace by this tree, and you’ll surely know the answer. If it’s a yes, you will make it from the forest, and something miraculous and wonderful will happen to you. And if it’s a no, you’ll get lost in the woods, and get eaten by a dark creature, and you won’t ever see light, or your family. Run off now. Results are waiting for you.”

I was shaking. Would I get eaten? Oh please be the woman that brought them home. Please. These few thoughts ran through my head as I walked in the direction I came. I was scared to pieces. I tripped over a stick and vines tangled around me. I thought to myself, I’m doomed, there’s no way out. I might as well lay here. Life no longer remains a journey I should fulfill.
But then, I stood. The vines weren’t around me anymore. I was being over dramatic. I walked it off, and as I did so, I reached the edge of the forest. I made it out! I survived! I would live another day! At least one more!
I ran home as fast as I could to see my family, to hug them tight, and never let go. I saw Ma standing in the kitchen, still with droopy, sad eyes. I nearly trampled her with hugs and love, but I ran straight through her. She’s just a ghost. The remaining soul of my mother, who no longer existed, stood in the kitchen. Not Ma. It was just her soul. She had no body to claim and I was put through an emotional whirlwind. I stepped back, and went outside. I wasn’t worried about them anymore. I just wanted to see them happy, and I never had before in my entire, short filly life.

Time to work on the fields again, I thought. I pushed around these stupid dirt clusters for all of my life, and I could have sworn I’d be doing it for the rest of my life, all alone. I thought I’d do it the exact same way I’d been doing it that day. Alone in the fields, “rotating” the rocks (more like kicking) back and forth from field to field, every day for the rest of my life? No way. I wanted something new. Hopefully this last miraculous thing could change my life for the better.
Gertrude and Helga stood in the fields, kicking rocks, pouting as always, near my little wheelbarrow. It was ridiculous. I couldn’t touch them, but they could make things move with ghosty-powers like they were unicorns or something.

I remained in the farm, pushing around rocks until suddenly a whoosh of air flew in my face. It felt like a hurricane was starting up. The grey sky around me started to turn blue, and my whole world somehow shifted. Looking to the sky, a huge explosion of rainbows filled the sky, and the wind pushed my hair into a poof. The sky was bright, and beautiful. Bunnies, butterflies, birds and all sorts of creatures appeared before me. A magnificent rainbow stretched through the air, and made the whole world seem like a new place. It made me happy. It made me… Smile.. I had never felt joy like that before. I had never been… joyful. There were things that I felt mutual about, but there was never… THIS kind of feeling. I felt, well, euphoric! It was delightful! Everything was shown with beauty now. My hair was poofed into a new hair-do. I liked it, honestly. It matched my jubilation and merriment. I had an entire perspective of the world. I decided I would try to show this sort of view to everypony around. Well, more like everyponyghost around. I ran to the silo, and found everything I could to put together something nice. I wanted to throw a party. It would be a “Welcome back from the dead!” party, and we would all eat cake and dance.

The next morning, I threw together a party, a beautiful party. There was everything I wanted. Cake, streamers, music, snacks, and just everything I imagined a party would look like. Living my whole life in darkness, I had never been to a party. I made a party out of pure imagination and what made me happy. I had to, of course, do this in secrecy from Ma, Pa, Gertrude and Helga so that I could really make them happy.

I had baked sweets, collected apples, blown up balloons, and tied ribbons for days. But finally, when it was all done… I started the music. I blared the music real loud. The silo shook with the intense beat. My family walked outside of our small cottage and looked at the boring silo with curiosity. The music was only slightly muffled through the thin metal of the silo, so all they knew was that music was being played inside.

Ma yelled “Pinkamena Diane Pie, is that you?”

I peeked out of the silo door “Mom! I need you, Dad and the sisters to come in quick!” I then slammed the door and waited inside by the large cake I had made. I couldn’t wait for a reaction.
My ghost family opened the silo door and stood before me as I yelled “SUUURRPRRIIISE! YOU LIKE IT? IT’S CALLED ‘A PARTY’!”

They stood still, mouth shaking, staring at it. Father’s wheat grain that he always carried in his mouth had dropped to the floor.

“Aw. You don’t like it!” I cried, disappointed.

This sadness was soon to be interrupted by their giant grins, and the music seemed to get louder and happier, as we all danced.

We danced for what felt like days. And finally, Ma and Pa decided that my parties were the best things that could have ever happened to this world, and they needed to be spread. I agreed. That night, my bags were packed, and I would be sent to a city nearby to find a new family, and make parties for every single pony that was wanted, or needed. This city was called “Ponyville”.

Author's Note : This is not the end. There will be more. I will add a few more chapters about her life in Ponyville, and how she met her friends, and I'll also have alternate endings! I would also like to apologize for the large amount of time that you had to wait in order to receive this chapter, but it took me an awful long time to create, and I have been very busy with other things (those other things may or may not be more fan fictions). I plan to go back onto a regular schedule of a few times a week. This chapter is a lot more lengthy, for those who have been asking for it. I planned to split this into smaller chapters, but I decided not to, for the sake of people who like longer ones. Thanks for reading! I hope you continue to!

Love, GlowStar77

A New Home

Tuesday, October 17th

Today was the day I would settle in Ponyville. As I stepped up to my entrance, it seemed nice. It seemed happy. I could get used to this new feeling. And luckily, not a rock was in sight! It all just seemed like everyone was perfectly fine and dandy! I had people to meet. I had to be adopted! I totally forgot! I needed to somehow get a home. But how would I do it? Anypony there would be good parents. I would have to walk about and somehow steal somepony’s heart and make them swoop me up and give me a room. This would be a lot more difficult than that simple little sentence that was thrown down there. I’ll have to be the best filly, and best daughter. I walked down the street hoping to find a place to rest.

I walked deeper into the town, and ran into a cute little place. It was honestly quite large, for a “cute little place”, and it looked fun. A sign hung from a pole, and the picture on the sign was of a delicious little cupcake. I hadn’t noticed upon first look, but the entire building was made of candy! I had to go inside. I just had to. The sign indicated it was a business, so barging in wouldn’t hurt anything. I opened the door, and walked in quietly, trying to be social, but not annoying. The moment I walked through the door, a turquoise pony greeted me “Hello, welcome to Sugarcube Cor-“ she then interrupted herself with a gasp.

I looked around the room for my ghostly parents’ appearance, or maybe something was placed improperly, but nothing seemed like out of place, and not a parent was in sight.

She slightly frowned and walked up to you “Poor little Dearie, you are very filthy and your cute little mane looks like it’s been through a hurricane!”

I looked at my hooves, which were covered in dirt “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to dirty the floors…”

She laughed “No, no! It’s fine! My name is Cup Cake! Where is your mom?” She looked to the left and right of me, looking for a mare.

“She… uh… died… I’m currently homeless, and I just came into town. My name is Pinkamena Diane Pie.” I said, as I stared at the ground in depression.

“Dearie, I have an idea to throw forward. We have this empty room upstairs, and I’m sure Carrot wouldn’t mind if you stayed there. I could talk to him, and we could put through paperwork to make you legally ours. I really wanted kids… but I am incapable of producing children. I often even considered staging a birth scene for friends. I would adopt babies, and put them in the nursery, and everypony wouldn’t be sad for me any longer. But that’s a crazy idea, even if I could really create a plan, which I could, but anyways… So, I could go grab the paperwork and talk to my husband, if you’d like. But of course, this will require proper procedures first, like… getting to know you!”

I smiled “That would be lovely! If you talk to Mr… Uh.. Carrot, that would be nice.”

She had a huge grin on her face “So, what are you like?”

This question hit me hard… I had no interests… no real personality… Not yet. I finally came up with an answer over hard thinking “Well, I sure do love to throw parties! I mean, I’ve only ever thrown one, but it was pretty nice… I think.”

“That’s absolutely smashing! You might fit in nicely with our business. We are a catering company! Well, what else do you like to do? What kind of foods do you like?” she asked, excited.

“I… uh…. I've never really done anything… I don’t know what I’d like..” I replied, unsure of what to say.

“Maybe you’d like cupcakes, or poetry, or dancing, or singing! We’ll have to try it all! I have always wanted kids, and I am just so excited! ” she laughed.

I was starting to feel a bit uneasy about this whole endeavor, but I soon shook it away. She was willing to give me my own home! Food and everything I’d ever need would be provided for me! What harm could it do to find out my talent, and finally get my cutie mark? I decided that it was time to take risks, and go for it.

“Okay!” I smiled and jumped happily as my hair bobbed back down on my face. I pushed it out of the way, and smeared more dirt on my face. “Hehe… Is there any way I could get washed up while you talk to your husband?”

“Sure thing! I’ll see you soon. The bathroom is upstairs to the left, across from the guest room and empty room. Feel free to use whatever you like, as long as you can remotely clean it up after.” She replied.

I hopped up the stairs smiling. I was euphoric. I had never had a real loving family, but maybe this is where I could get one. This could be where I get my start in life!

I scrubbed up, and dried myself off. I didn’t make much of a mess, but there was a small puddle of water on the ground, so I bent down to wipe it up, and saw myself in the mirror. I looked like my old self when my hair's all flattened out. I cleaned up the puddle, and then stood in front of the mirror by the sink. There was blow dryer and some toothbrushes sitting on the counter. I grabbed the blow dryer and poofed my hair back up. I was done with being “Pinkamena”. This new self, would be “Pinkie”.

An Awaiting Decision

As I stepped from the restroom to declare my new name and try to show a new vibe, I decided I would toss out my old future and start a bright new one. Maybe I could even make new friends, and try new things. I walked down the hallway with a towel wrapped around my neck and as I reached the stairs, I sighed. I was relaxed, comfortable, and I felt loved for once. At home, I was loved and cared for, but I never felt truly wanted. I was fed, and I had a home, but there was never a smile shared with one another. The first smile we ever shared was when their ghosts saw my funeral party. That was the first and only smile I ever received from my mother, father, or sisters. I missed them, but I was definitely not missing my old life. This would be a new start for me, and I could finally be myself and have people love me for me. Even though I had no idea who that pony may be, I knew who I could be. This was my only chance. I just needed a yes from her husband, and finally I could be a part of something. I could be a part of a business, family, and a real world. This was all on Mr. Cake. It was his decision. But first, he would have to meet me.

“Pinkamena?” a man called from downstairs.

“Yes?” I replied, and came down the stairs and faced Mr. Cake, the man who needed to decide. He was a sort of yellow earth pony, and his green eyes stared deep into mine. He looked compassionate enough, but I’m not sure if it was more of an examination, or judgment. He had a cutie mark of three small carrot cakes, and I feel like I remember Mrs. Cake saying something about his name being “Carrot”. He wore an orange striped bowtie and an apron that looked like it had gone through a miniature hurricane of cupcakes and cake frosting. This told me he was hard working. So did the bags under his and his wife’s eyes.

“Hello there. I need to get to know you as quickly as possible, because I really need to get to work and deliver this order. So, what are you like?”

“Well, I don’t really know who I am yet. I used to work on a farm outside of Ponyville with my family and then they all died. I decided to move here for a new start and to really find my interests. I never really planned what I’d do, but luckily I came across your wife who claimed she was looking for a child to adopt. I never really got any hobbies either. But I really do adore party throwing!” I told him my story, and ended my last sentence with a hop and a humongous cheesy grin.

“Well, do you go by any nicknames?” He asked.

“Not in the past, no. But I think Pinkie would fit me nicely.” I said, trying not to really name myself.

“I agree. It seems suitable! Alright Pinkie, I will have to decide. Give Mrs. Cake and I a moment alone, will you? Go ahead and explore upstairs. If we decide it’s a yes, you’ll get one of those rooms up there. Go ahead and take a look. OH! IT’S ALMOST TIME FOR DELIVERY! UP THE STAIRS YOU GO, NOW!” He pushed me up the first three steps as I started to trot my way up to look at the rooms.

I came up the stairs and went around the corner, but stopped there. I eavesdropped a little, and it was wrong of me, but I just had to do it.

Mr. Cake was whispering “Didn’t you want a baby? And she’s not exactly… eh… normal. She has no interests! How can a pony have no interests?”

Mrs. Cake whispered back “I know, but I really like her. I know this decision is somewhat sudden, but I have a good feeling about this, and she seems like a really sweet girl. I know I wanted babies, but it isn’t like I can’t do that later in life. I really like Pinkie. She’s adorable. She’s homeless, and I can’t let her stay on the streets, especially at her age. Please, Carrot. Please.”

Mr. Cake gave in “Yes. Call her down and tell her. I really need to go get this delivered!” He ran out of the shop carrying saddlebags full of cake mixes.

Mrs. Cake started to come up the stairs and I quickly ran over to the rooms, trying to look casual. She smiled at me and hugged me tight.

She smiled a huge beaming grin and said “You’re ours.”

I jumped with glee and hopped straight into the closest room. I squealed with joy and ran across the room without looking. And then I stared in awe. It was a large room and it looked like everything was patterned with candy. Finally, I realized this would be a new life that I would savor.

A New, Kind Friend

I was finally somewhere I could belong, and I needed nothing more than this. I missed my old family, but as time went by it felt like they were slowly fading off into the distance. I really did miss them, or at least that’s what I kept telling myself. They were gone, but hey, I had a new life.

I had so many opportunities this week. I haven’t been writing in daily anymore, but I’m starting up a new personality, so I’m a little bit occupied. I got to bake, throw parties, laugh and sing and I really felt like a part of a new family. I felt wanted, and loved. It was a new feeling. It was a feeling I could get used to.

Oh, did I mention I got my cutie mark? I threw a party to rejoice the day of the rainbow explosion this week, and all of a sudden, BAM! There it was. My cutie mark lay on my flank, and the three little balloons symbolized my love for parties. I was euphoric, but I wasn’t going to do anything irrational like other fillies do. I once saw some filly scream and jump out of a window. It was scary. Luckily, they were caught by some pegasus guy.

I walked down the stairs and smiled at my new mother and father excitedly, wondering what was in store for us on such a lovely day. I pushed aside my fluffy hair so that I could look at my parents and I beamed. I was so happy with this new arrangement. They looked exhausted from yesterday. I could see droopy gray bags under their eyes. They had a huge delivery yesterday, and I wanted to jump around at the local trampoline emporium, so they had to have gotten a subpar amount of rest.

I stepped up to the table where they sat. Mrs. Cake sat still and sighed loudly as she looked at me with a weak smile. Mr. Cake tried to smile at me, but once he actually pulled together a smile, it looked like he was about to sneeze.

I sat down next to them and smiled before saying “So, how are you guys?”

Mr. Cake nearly jumped from his seat. He had started to doze off after putting forth all that effort to smile at me, and when I spoke, it awoke him from his teeny nap he had taken. He yawned and rubbed his eyes “I’m exhausted.”

His wife rubbed her eyes clear as well before stating nonchalantly “I’m pooped.”

I giggled. That was the first time I had ever heard that expression, but I was sure I’d use it from now on. I loved that so much. I found the fact they woke up to greet me sweet and kind, but if they needed rest, they should be asleep “Why are you two up? You need rest, you sillies!”

As I said this, they both began to shake their heads and say “No, really, it’s fine” but I interrupted them with a shove. I pushed them both upstairs and into their bedroom and then slammed the door shut and screamed “Go to bed!”

I heard them through the door. A muffled voice I thought was Mrs. Cake called out “But what will you do as we sleep?”

I assured them I would be fine and that I would go outside and explore Ponyville today. And with that, I went outside.

The air smelled of baked goods and crisp grass being cut in the distance. As I walked down the street, I felt my hoof shake a little bit, but I ignored it and walked on. I tripped over a small stone and cut my hoof, and my body replied with an overall shake. My body shivered to a stop of the shaking for a moment, and I became worried. I would ask Mrs. Cake to take me to the doctor later. But they were still asleep, and I had to wait. I thought about what the doctor would ask. I listed off a few questions to myself mentally. “Has this happened before? If so, where and when has it happened?”, “Is it painful when it happens?”, or maybe “What are the consequences?” would be probably be asked. I thought up possible answers for a moment. Has it happened before? Yeah. It has! I remember these weird twitches before Pa’s bird died, and now that you mention it, it happened when he died too. And when Ma and the sisters died, it happened too! It was never painful, but it was mentally painful from what would always happen afterwards. The consequences are… death? No… It had to be something else. I mean, they always died, but I was positive it wasn’t always death. It had happened to me when I was really young, even younger than now, and people would trip, or a flower pot would fall on somepony’s head. And I didn’t just see anyone die, so it can’t be death!

All of a sudden, I saw a smoke fly up into the air in the distance, and I panicked forthwith. I heard screams and cries of everypony around, and I knew something terrible had happened. I looked straight into the forest outside of Ponyville, and it had caught fire. The entire situation was chaotic, and I realized it was all my fault. If I hadn’t done it, the city would be calm. Out of nowhere, a heroic pegasus grabbed a cloud and made it pour over the forest, but by this time, I was sobbing. It was all my fault.

A small, soft voice called out to me saying “Excuse me, are you okay?”

I looked around myself, looking everywhere for a pony, and I finally came across one. A skinny little pink-maned pony lay on the ground before me, kindly smiling at me. She had a bunny on her head, but I ignored it and tried to reply “No… I’m not. It’s all my fault. That big fire, it was all my fault.”

The pony looked sad, and frowned at me “What do you mean?”

I shook my head and cried more “I don’t know! I don’t know how to explain it! Whenever I twitch, something bad happens!”

“That’s strange. I’ve never heard of that. Maybe you have some sort of future telling power.”

I laughed and wiped tears from my eyes “Hah! You might as well say I have ‘Pinkie Sense’”

She smiled “My name is Fluttershy, and from what I just heard, I assume your name is Pinkie.”

I started to feel better. This pony really knew how to make someone feel comfortable. I smiled at her “Yeah, my name is Pinkie. It’s nice to meet you, Fluttershy. I’m sort of new in town. I was just looking around, and I kind of started a fire.”

“I’m new here too. This is my first time on the ground. I live up in Cloudsdale. Where do you live?”

I answered, suddenly feeling calm “I live over in Sugarcube Corner. It’s a sweets shop here in Ponyville.”

She smiled. I assumed she liked sweets. She seemed really shy, but she opened up to me, and that made me feel special. I was really starting to like this new feeling. She started to stand up and said “Well, we can explore the town together, if you want.”

I nodded and grinned. I had a new friend. She and I both started walking down the road together and I finally felt like life would go on, with or without my “Pinkie Sense”.

Just Another Day On The Farm (Tuesday, October 10th)

Tuesday, October 10

It was just another dark, gloomy, depressing day. Although, I really don’t remember there being a day that wasn’t dark, gloomy, or depressing. Today was round-up day. I had the responsibility of kicking all the gray, pedestrian lumps into piles that would eventually be toppled with the storm headed toward us. This occurred once a week. Every bland, boring Tuesday, I would corral the rocks into small groups, for all of my work to be undone in the next twenty minutes. I stood and looked at our property. There sat our dull colored cottage with my family sitting inside while the storm blows over, and our windmill type thing that Ma, Pa, Gertrude and Helga never explained to me, and then there’s the huge, metal, chrome silo. I say chrome, but it is rusted to bits. I’m not quite sure why it stands in its place to this very day. A booming crack of thunder rushed in to my ears to interrupt my thoughts. I jumped in surprise, and my hair stood up, resembling a somewhat fluffed sheep’s coat. But then I remembered that this was a noise I was quite familiar with, even though the noise had startled me, I felt calm and reminded myself that there was nothing to fear. I met the clouds every day, and would have monotonous conversations about my life, that contains nothing. The thunder greets me with a smile, and my flat, stiff mane replies with anger. I am locked up in a realm of darkness, and the lightning is so bright, and moves from place to place as it pleases. I envy it. I am jealous of the thunder as well. It’s so loud, and everyone can hear it, while my opinion is muffled with an imaginary brick wall. Someday, I would conquer the storm and the things that come with… right?