//------------------------------// // The Smile // Story: To Her Surprise // by Askesalsa //------------------------------// She woke up this morning with a beam of sunlight caressing her forehead, the only part of her face that was not hidden beneath the blanket. Mumbling little sounds of irritation, she shifted to her other side, pulling the sheets out of position and her blanket along with her. There she stayed for a few seconds, pondering whether or not she should simply go back to sleep like she had the day before and the day before that. A long sigh escaped her while she opened her eyes, their lids heavy as lead, and she had a little staring competition with the sunlit wall when she finally got them open. Her motivation for getting up was lacking at best, but yet another day called and this one called for her to get out of bed. She made a pained grimace from the ache that ran through her body when she stretched. It had gotten used to the fetal position she fell asleep in several hours ago. But the way the pain extended and her bones clicked made her feel just a little bit better, at least physically. It made it easier to get all four hooves out from the comfort of her mattress. Clacking her head from side to side, another sigh escaped her mouth, mixed in with a morning yawn. She blew the hair away from her dead eyes, took another look at the sunny sky from over her shoulder, and with an apathetic expression she finally managed to leave the heavy stench of her room. Voices whispered across the table from the kitchen downstairs. They were meant not to be heard, but the way they were hastily cast between each other in preparation for her arrival made them easy to hear anyways. Pinkie could not make out what they said, but she knew it had to be about her, seeing as they sounded so anxious and panicky. “Good morning!” her sisters called out from their semi-happy faces, waving at their pink big sister as she entered the kitchen. Blinkamina was rather eager, her smile genuine and optimistic, but Inkamina’s smile and wave stored a more realistic viewpoint, though also hope for the best. But Pinkie had to disappoint them once again. Being a good sister, she returned their smiles and waves, but she could only manage so much with this sting in her chest. “G’morning.” “Good morning, Pinkie dear,” Sue Pie said. Her face was kind and caring, her eyes understanding and warm, but little impact did it make on the pink filly that dragged her body over to her designated seat. They all wore black. Blinkamina and Inkamina both wore a simple black tie, making them look like some sort of religious duo, and her father, half-smiling from beside her, wore his same old hat along with the same kind of tie. Sue Pie had somewhat more of an eye catcher on her. Her black dress ran all the way down to her hind legs’ hooves, though her front legs were kept free for movability. The hat she wore had a black veil attached to it, meant for hanging over her face, but she did not carry it so at this moment. “It’s today, isn’t it?” Pinkie said quietly and with a sad voice, seeking confirmation on what she already knew. She hung on her chair, almost slipping off of it and under the table, her face directed to the pancakes before her. Delicious as they looked with their syrup coat, she had no appetite for them. Clyde and Sue gave each other a concerned look for a moment, and her siblings kept quiet while they shifted their gaze between the bigger ponies. The only sound at that moment was of Inkamina uttering a soft whimper. “You sure you want to go?” her father finally asked out of concern, his eyes serious and gentle. It took longer for Pinkie to answer than she wanted. Her mind wandered unnecessarily over both fond and painful memories, mixing them in a pool of uncertainty. It was hard to properly let the words out in a way they could hear, but she managed to somehow break the silence anyways, “Yeah, I guess.” “It’s starting in about twenty minutes,” he continued, never looking away from her, same as the others. “You wanna get dressed?” “I’d rather just get it over with,” she answered. She pushed herself out from the table, making chair scream in agony when hauled along the floor. Her plate was left empty on the table, and it was obvious on Sue’s face that she had noticed that. But Pinkie’s appetite would not return just from that. All of her family’s attempts to cheer her up so far had been fruitless, even the clear blue sky they blessed her with every day, despite how it would hurt their harvest, was nothing but a bother. There was not enough sunlight in the world to reach where she was. She could hear the rest of them get off their chairs as soon as she stepped out of the kitchen. There were no words of command, but they still followed her body’s orders. Their pity had made her the captain of the family these past few days; a position she did not enjoy having. Her father was the one to hold the door for them. He even offered his warmest smile to her when she passed him. But she did no notice. She did not care for anything, and it pained him from what she could tell from the movement of his lips as he closed the door. The Celestian chapel was far from quiet. Though everypony kept their voices to a minimum, the acoustic of the room and the sheer amount of ponies in black made it as noisy as a party. Pinkie and her family walked down the aisle with a steady tempo. The ponies they passed all had their different ways of grieving: Some were mentioning the good times they had shared with the pony in question, some were crying and grieving the sudden tragedy, some simply kept quiet, watching the casket in the middle of the room with thoughtful faces. They were lucky enough to find some empty seats in the front row, but only her family sat down immediately. Pinkie took a few steps towards the grand, well-polished, brown casket that seemed to shine in the light. It was bathed in neatly cut and prepared flower decorations, and a couple of purple balloons were tied to each end of it in honor of her being. There was a lid meant to be open at this certain ceremony so everypony could say their goodbyes, but it was tightly shut off from the surrounding world in this case. Even so, Pinkie stood over it and looked at where she knew the white pegasus’ face was located, trying her best to somehow see past the shiny brown wood that separated them even further. A hoof was planted on her shoulder, and she looked up to see her mother smiling sadly at her. The gray mare guided her down to the others, who were waiting with their eyes directed at her in concern. She did not resist, but followed her mother to her seat, watching the floor on her way thereto. “Friends and family,” an elderly mare said from a pedestal beside the casket when everypony had sat down, and the entire chapel became silent. “We are gathered here today in honor of…” This was as far as Pinkie cared to listen. Her eyes were on the pedestal, watching without blinking, but her ears did not catch anything anypony would say. Nothing that was said would make her wish come true anyways, so she let her thoughts race instead. The occasional sob and cough worked as background noise, and the walls resonated with their sounds, enhancing these small quietness destroyers. She leaned forward to see how everypony else looked. Her mother and father had respectful looks of sadness in their eyes, but they never knew enough of the pony in question for their eyes to tear up. This lack of knowing was also what made her sisters sit bored on their flanks rather than sad. Inkamina was fidgeting with her hooves, clearly annoyed with having to stay here, though years of rock farming had taught her how to behave and be quiet. Blinkamina, on the other hoof, caught Pinkie’s eyes, and she smiled carefully at her big sister. However, Pinkie simply looked away again, the thought of returning the smile never even passing her. She turned to look over her shoulders, doing her best to see the ponies sitting behind her. From there she only saw two ponies she truly noticed. Firefly and Cup Cake sat still in their seats a few rows behind her and on the other side of the chapel. Firefly had stern eyes locked on the casket ahead, streams of thoughts seemingly invading her mind at that moment. Cup Cake too looked quite sad, but unlike Firefly she managed to notice the pink filly. As soon as the light cerulean mare sent her a warm and heartfelt smile, Pinkie turned back around and took another look at the pedestal, on which a different pony was now holding her speech. She told herself that she would listen from now on, but in the end she could not keep her mind clear enough for the words to reach her. She simply looked ahead with dead eyes for the rest of the ceremony. The ceremony was over and the sound of ponies rising from their seats echoed in the chapel. Voices spoke in soft tones from here and there, all still respectful, albeit relieved that it was over. Only Pinkie did not stand up immediately. She had barely noticed it was over at all, her gaze locked on the casket. Not even when ponies walked past her did she blink or realize that everypony was leaving. It was only by the touch of her father that she looked away and up at him. “Well,” he said with a still smile. “It’s over now. Let’s go home.” “Actually,” she replied, looking away from him for a second. She took another long look at the casket and wet her lips. Her chest inflated with the air she inhaled in one big lump, and it seeped out through her open mouth as she looked back at the brown stallion. “Can I stay a little?” “But you said you wanted to get it over…” he said with much uncertainty, stopping midsentence. The look Pinkie gave him had him frozen, and he fuzzed around wordlessly for a few seconds. “I’m not sure. What do you think honey?” He looked up at Sue, and Pinkie looked at her as well to see how she would reply. The gray mare kept still for a moment, but soon nodded in approval, and Pinkie could look back at her father for the obvious translation of this nod. “Ok, then. Would you like one of us to stay with you?” She took a moment to think it over, finally responding with a slow shake of the head, “No.” With ponies passing by one after another, the Pie family stood still, watching Pinkie as they waited to see if she would change her mind. Inkamina and Blinkamina clutched tightly to Sue’s sides, and she met them both with a calming stroke of the mane without looking away from her pink daughter. But Pinkie never looked back at them, and that was their cue to go. They walked away, the sound of their hooves enhanced by the walls of the chapel as they stepped down the aisle. The door slammed with a noise of thunder, lasting several seconds, and it made the filly’s ears tremble as it pounded on her ear drums. A shiver ran through her body, leading all the way from the tip of her hind legs through her spine, ending in a shaky whimper from her mouth. Only then did her body relax, and she could lean forward, her snout following gravity’s force. “Hey, Pinkie,” a soft, kind voice suddenly said from beside her. She forced her neck to turn towards it, surprised that she was not yet alone. There stood Cup Cake in black on cerulean. Her eyes were wet and shaky, an earthquake happening in their rosy irises. But she still found it in her to smile at the lone filly. “Can I sit?” Pinkie took a few seconds to look at her. But as soon as she had grasped that Cup was actually there, she lost her interest and pointed her snout back to the casket ahead. “Sure.” The baker gave her a quick nod of the head, increasing her smile momentarily as she sat down. She moved her gaze to the same place Pinkie had hers, and the purple balloons reflected in her pupils. She released a short, single syllabled snigger in a less than convincing manner, and said with forced cheerfulness, “It’s kind of weird seeing balloons here, huh?” Pinkie did not respond. She barely even moved. Her eyelids half covered her eyes, only the bottom half of her pupils able to see anything from the area of the deceased. “Then again…” Cup Cake continued. “… I guess it matches.” She looked to the side and at the silent filly, staying still for a moment before asking, “How are you feeling, dear?” “Hurt,” Pinkie instantly responded. It the first word that had come to her mind, but when she gave herself a short while to think, the word ‘hurt’ seemed inadequate. She wet her lips and took a deep breath, stretching her back as she clarified, “I don’t know. I don’t really know what to feel.” She rose from her seat and walked back up to the coffin. A ray of sunlight shone through the tall and slim mosaic of Celestia on the wall at the back of the chapel, and it dimmed the brilliance and darkened the colors that landed on the pink filly’s forehead. Placing her hoof softly on the hard wood, she caressed its surface in circular motions, all the while staring at it with a look of the dead. Cup Cake followed her after a few seconds. She stood behind her, leaving the space around the coffin for Pinkie alone. Without a word or sound, she kept watching the pink filly, her eyebrows leaning away from the center of her forehead. “I keep waiting for her to come out from there,” Pinkie said with a soft tone. “I know she won’t. She wouldn’t do that to me. But still…” A whimper entered her voice, hardening the words she spoke, “… I really want her to come out. I really want her to just shout ‘Surprise’ and then show me that silly face of hers that always made me laugh.” Cup Cake entered her area. She stood beside her and put a hoof on her pink back. Gently stroking back and forth along the hairs in her coat, she did her best to comfort the sad filly. But Pinkie did not react in the slightest. She was too swept up in her own misery, leaving any acts of kindness and comfort meaningless at this point. “It’s not fair,” the filly continued, hoarse and tired as she was. “She changed my life. My family, my home. She changed everything around me, made everything better. She showed me the night sky, and balloons and parties and everything else. Even my cutie mark was… I loved her.” She looked up at Cup Cake with tears running down her cheeks. “How am I supposed to go on without her?” Cup Cake did not respond immediately. She looked the filly in the eyes for a while, doing her best not to let her own emotions get the better of her. In the end she could only respond with a simple and low, “I’m sorry.” Pinkie looked back at the coffin, her teary eyes retracting and her lips trembling as a thought passed her mind. “I’m all alone.” “Don’t say that,” Cup Cake said with a shake of the head and a tone of pity. “You’re not alone. You’ll never be.” “But I owe it all to her,” Pinkie continued with a hint of panic. “Surprise gave me everything. I wouldn’t have met anypony if it wasn’t for her. I wouldn’t have had any fun. Even my family…” She stepped back from the coffin, down the few steps it took to get back on the cold tile floor. Her gaze met with Cup Cake’s, and neither of them moved for a long time. The quiet of the chapel screamed, but nothing was said. In the end it became too much for the filly, and she turned around, facing the door at the end of the aisle, and trotted hastily towards it. Cup Cake raised her hoof, calling for the filly with a trembling voice of her own, “Pinkie, wait!” But Pinkie did not wait. With the tears flowing down her eyes, leaving her almost blinded, she felt her way through the chapel and to the great door. Cup Cake kept calling, and she kept ignoring her. With all the strength her filly hooves could bear she pulled it open, its hinges making deep clanking sounds that echoed over the seats. The bright outside blinded her, and she covered her face when she stepped into it. She kept going like this. She kept going back to the farm, back to her bed, and back to her solitary shell. Her body lay heavy in bed this morning as well. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping, all for her sake. But it was simply not enough for her to want to move from her mattress. The nightmare of being awake was too much for her to handle. She did as usual: Turned around with a groan of annoyance, cursing the sun under her breath as she hid from it in the darkness of her blanket. She just wanted to get back to sleep. But something was strange about the light this morning. She noticed on the sunlit wall that little spots of colors that were not supposed to be there was swaying back and forth in the light. Dim reflections of pink and purple, the colors of her coat and Surprise’s now buried cutie mark were tagging the wall, subtly moving and bumping into each other in their own slow dance. Something was reshaping the colors of the sun. The door resounded with knocking, an eager sort too at that. It was not unusual that ponies would check up on her, but she did find the symphony of the tapping rather odd in itself. Followed by the knocking was the voice of Blinkamina, cheerfully calling her big sister out of bed, “Come on, Pinkie! You got to see this!” She did not respond. She did not want to stand up. She lay still for several seconds, watching the little dots float back and forth on the wall. But curiosity finally caught up with her. With an irritated moan and a tired yawn, she slowly moved the blanket away from her body and sat up in the bed. She blew her hair away from her face, smacked her lips, and tried her best not to let the ache in her body get to her. The spots on the wall were now taking her shadow into consideration, disappearing where the light hit her backside. Finally, she cared enough about what was going on to turn around and looked at the source of these strange colors. It was balloons. Outside her window hang countless balloons, all of the same two colors: Pink and Purple. They did all not hang tightly in a clump, but were instead separated to hang individually, free from the strings of the other balloons. The filly blinked. She could hardly believe her own eyes, and even had to rub them to make sure she was not seeing things. She did not move over to the window, but instead got on her hooves and quickly trotted to the door. Whatever was going on, she thought it must have something to do with Blinkamina’s cheerful morning greeting, so she decided she would go down to the kitchen and see if she could figure something out. There were nopony in the kitchen. There were no plates on the table, nor any sign of dishes having been done or anything. Every other room of the house was empty as well. It made Pinkie scratched the back of her head in wonder. Everything was different from the other mornings. Her family’s attempt to cheer her up was so unusual. It all seemed to lead outside, so this was where she would search next. She opened the door with one swift motion, took a step outside, and was met with something she would never have expected in her life. “Surprise!” yelled her family members in unity, all cheerful and smiling vigorously. Pinkie jumped with shock, her eyes wide open and a loud gasp accidentally escaping her. After taking a short moment to breathe, she took a look at the ponies standing only a few yards away from her, grinning happily. Though they had been smiling at her for the last few days, these smiles were different. They were genuine Pinkie let her eyes wander around the area, scanning both ground and sky alike. She saw even more balloons than the ones that hang outside the window now that she had a wider view. She saw a single, wooden table with a large, double-layered cake and a present beside it. She saw the old phonograph she had used at the party that brought the family together, ready with a record to play. Though the amount of decorations was scarce, what she saw was definitely a party. “What’s going on?” she asked in confusion as she stepped out into the dry fields, her gaze shifting from side to side. “Cup Cake visited with the cake earlier this morning,” Sue began replying with a merry tone of voice. “We had a good and long talk about you. She told me what you had said in the chapel, and we tried to figure out how we could turn that frown upside down. This is what we came to.” Pinkie blinked her eyes as she watched the gray mare speak. “Huh?” “It’s not as good as the one you threw,” her mother continued. She stretched her foreleg out, presenting what the family had created for the pink filly. “But this was all we could manage in so little time, even with help from Miss Cake and Miss Firefly. I guess it requires special talent to do it better.” “You like it?” Blinkamina asked excitedly, happily bouncing up and down on the spot, whirling a bit of dust up that hit the less excited, but still smiling, Inkamina by her side. Pinkie was as puzzled as she had ever been. She had never thought for a second that her family would throw a party. She was barely able to talk, much less respond properly until she could grasp the situation. She walked to the table with her mouth open, over to see the presented cake. She noticed that something was written in frosting and leaned in to see what it was. With neat writing, and in a lovely shade of pink, was written only a single word: ‘Smile’. She felt a hoof on her head, nuzzling her gently, and she looked up to see her father looking at her with a toothy grin. “This is all for you, Pinkie.” She stepped to the side, away from the brown stallion and the table with the cake. She needed space for the moment, avoiding her family like the plague in her confusion. But they did not seem to mind. Respectful of Pinkie’s situation, they clumped together in a family hug, keeping a distance so the eldest daughter could sink everything in at her own pace, and they looked at her bearing the same caring look in their eyes. “But why?” Pinkie asked, shaking her head in disbelief. “Why go this far just for me?” “Isn’t it obvious?” Sue responded, her tone as gentle and motherly as possible. “We’re your family, Pinkie. We love you and care so much about you. Of course we want you to be happy, and we’d hate for you to ruin it for yourself.” This sentence left the filly speechless. She kept shifting her eyes between them, her mouth gaping open with shock and bedazzlement. “We just want you to know, Pinkie,” Sue continued, her eyes tearing up. “That even though it’s true that Surprise gave you everything, she didn’t take it away when she left.” While Pinkie sat frozen on the ground, Inkamina moved away from the rest of the group and over to the table. She grabbed the wrapped box on it and lifted it with much care. Only then did Pinkie notice the air holes in it, and the way Inkamina stepped towards her slowly made her realize what sort of thing was in the box. “This is for you,” she mumbled with the gift wrap still in her mouth. Pinkie looked her deep in the eyes, finally noticing how they were wet and caring. There was so much love in those eyes, all aimed at her, yet she had been so blind to these looks. She slowly extended her hooves, letting her little sister place the box in them before she walked back to the rest of the family. They all watched in anticipation, and Pinkie had her eyes on the box with all sort of thoughts racing through her head. After a while, she carefully removed the wrapping and lifted the lid to see what sort of surprise was in it. A small, green baby alligator was sleeping soundly, its head lying on the tip of its tail in a little pile of comfortable hay. When it yawned she noticed that it did not have any teeth, and the sound it made was one of the cutest things she had ever heard. “For me?” she asked with a tear-choked voice, even though her tears had yet to run from her eyes that were locked on the green reptile in the box. “We actually wanted to give you a kitten,” her father then said with a big smile, scratching the back of his mane. “But somehow this seemed more like your kind of thing.” Pinkie was careful when she put the box down. The green eyelids of the reptile blinked, revealing a clear shade of purple that reminded her so much of a certain white mare when she picked it up. She kept it in stretched hooves, looking at it curiously, and it looked back at her with a clueless expression. The hair on her head started changing, the quiet sound of something inflating emitting from it as mane and tail curled up. Now the tears began, and they helped to enhance the spark that was returning to her eyes. When she was finally back to her curly look, her trembling lips began forming a smile, following the wish and command of the cake on the table. She had finally realized the truth. She had finally realized that she was not alone, and never had been. The family that loved her, the friends that cared for her, the innocent being between her hooves: There really was a ray of sun that could breach the clouds. With the tears flowing down her face, passing the smile on her lips, she brought in the little green reptile and embraced it in a soft hug. The rest of the family saw the opportunity to close in on her, and with every step closer they took, she found it easier to let her voice out, and when they finally reached her for a large family hug she was finally able to speak: “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you all so much. I love you all.” Ponyville was just as bright and pretty as ever. The birds were chirping and the bees were humming, and young mare Pinkie Pie was skipping along the wide main road on her way to a certain bakery. The small suitcase in her mouth bounced up and down vigorously, and the alligator had made sure to lock its jaw on the tip of her tail, swinging around behind her and enjoying the ride to their new, yet familiar, home. “Hello in the sugarhouse!” she merrily called out as soon as she entered, beating the bell in the race to announce her arrival. “Hey there, Pinkie Pie,” the amber stallion greeted her cheerfully from behind the counter. “Ready for a change of scenery, eh?” “Sure am, Mr. Cake,” she replied with a smile shining from across the suitcase. “Is Mrs. Cake here?” “Just a moment, I’ll get her,” he responded, telling the pink pony to be patient with a raised hoof. He turned to the kitchen and trotted quickly into it, all the while calling out to his lovable wife, “Sugarplum! She’s here!” It did not take many moments before the light cerulean, chubby mare appeared in the doorway. She beamed with delight at the sight of the pink pony, and Pinkie too could not help but put on a silly grin at the sight of this dear pony. The pink mare bounced forwards and over the counter, swinging the alligator on her tail in circular motions, yet it kept its grip with its toothless jaw. “I can’t wait!” she happily exclaimed as she embraced both bakers in a tight hug. “I’ve been so excited for weeks to live here!” “Well, we’ve been looking forward to it as well, haven’t we, dear?” said Cup Cake with a merry tone, looking across the pink pony embracing her to the stallion at the other shoulder. And he nodded in response with a wide smile. “We sure have.” “But enough chit-chat,” the light cerulean mare then said. She pushed Pinkie away and stepped away from the counter and into the store, beckoning the pink pony to follow. “Let’s go get you settled in, shall we?” Pinkie nodded hastily, creating a blur with the speed of her moving head. She and Cup Cake left Carrot Cake with the store, swiftly trotting up the stairs to the room she would live in from here on out. The baker was the one to open the door, but Pinkie was the first inside. She opened her mouth in excitement with this place, all the memories from her fillyhood streaming through her. There was a distinct smell in the air, clean yet aging, as if all the wood in the room had become mahogany with time. This was her new home, and at the same time a place she knew as well as her old one. “I’ve left it pretty much as it were,” Cup Cake said from behind her. “I’ve only changed the necessary things and cleaned once in a while, but other than that it’s just like it was when she lived here.” Pinkie turned around and looked the baker deep in the eyes. Her smile was wide and her eyes shaky and it took all her strength not to suddenly burst into tears of joy at this moment. After a short while, she leaped forward and embraced the light cerulean mare in a tight hug, one that was returned with a few loving pats on her back. When she let go, she turned around and took another look at the room. The alligator had already let go of her tail and found a comfortable spot in the middle of the floor, on which it stood and did exactly nothing. “Well, I’ll leave you to settle in, dearie,” Cup Cake said from behind her, ready to leave with a hoof on the doorknob. “Is there anything you need?” “Nope,” she replied with a happy tone. She looked over her shoulder at the mare, winking with a happy smile. “Everything’s peachy here.” With that said, Cup Cake left the room with a sweet smile of her own. Pinkie immediately grabbed the small suitcase and opened it on the floor, and it exploded in a myriad of confetti and stuff that should logically not have been able to fit inside it. From all this stuff, there was one particular item she grabbed in the air before it fell on the floor. She caught this framed photo with both hooves and brought it close to her chest, smiling a dreamy smile as she clutched tightly too it. There was already a destined place for it to be on the cupboard beside the bed, so she put the photo in her mouth, skipped cheerfully over and placed it so it would be the first thing she saw every morning. The white mare in the picture bore the silliest grin imaginable. She was waving at the camera, hovering in the air with the sky and a few balloons hanging behind her. Pinkie sat for a moment and watched the picture happily, her eyes narrowed and her smile wide. She let out a simple sigh of satisfaction, turned around and trotted over to pick up the rest of the stuff on the floor so she could find somewhere to put that. Meanwhile the photo watched over her, safe on the cupboard as an eternal reminder and an eternal ‘thank you’ to her Surprise.