MINIFIC LIGHTNING ROUND

Pinkie Pie struck the match.

The sound of it echoed throughout Sugarcube Corner. It reverberated and travelled to every dark corner of the empty bakery and beyond. For as long as it searched, it found no other of its kind. Eventually, it became so weak that it dissipated into nothingness.

Only one pony heard that sound, and that was the striker. She watched the flame as it danced at the end of her hoof. It seemed… happy. She smiled weakly as she observed the innocent little thing, new to this world and what little was left of it.

It had been ninety-seven days since her own birthday party. Ninety-seven days since Applejack had mentioned she was feeling “a little sick”. But over the next few days, they learned that she wasn’t just a little sick; she was very sick. So sick that… she died.

Pinkie felt a tear run down her cheek. Applejack’s words during her final moments echoed in her mind: “We’ll all be together again one day,” she had said, lying in the hospital bed. “Don’t be sad.”

But it had become harder and harder not to be sad. In the following weeks, more and more ponies got sick and passed away. She had said goodbye so many times, but it hadn’t become any less hard to say it. She’d smile, and they’d smile back, and then they were just… gone. They were all gone, and she missed every one of them, but especially her best friends. And now, the only friend that Pinkie had in the world was that one little match.

She laid it down on the carpet. Slowly, she stepped back as it spread from the carpet to the floorboards and the edges of the house. Every hoofstep backwards was slow and stiff. Saying goodbye to herself was much more difficult to do than she had thought it would be.

Her hooves felt the cold dirt of the street, and she sat down to watch the bakery burn. Every other building in Ponyville was perfectly intact. But, Ponyville without ponies was hardly Ponyville at all. Her friends were all that mattered, them and their smiling faces. And that was what made life worth living; to see her friends happy. Now, well… the only face left was her own, and she didn’t have much to smile about any more.

The fire licked the upper edges of the open front door and began its ascent to the second floor. Embers glimmered and floated up into the night sky, joining the stars. The bright light and smoke of the fire were hiding the stars, but she knew they were there.

Pinkie looked at the fire as it flowed up from the floor of the bakery. Not ninety-seven days prior, her friends had been there dancing on that floor. It had been before any doubts, or pain, or loss, or grief. There had been happiness shared among them, a simple joy in being around ponies that cared for each other and loved each other as friends.

Now, she was sure she could see them again. Her five best friends were there in the fire, dancing to the high crackles and low roar of the blaze. They were smiling and happy, and Pinkie wanted nothing more than to be with them once more. Just to see their smiling faces and hear their laughter again: that would’ve been the most splendiferous thing in the whole wide world.

So she joined them.