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// Are You Okay? 
// Story: Lonely Murderer 
// by uniquecorn 
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Early in the morning, roughly 5-6 o’clock, the sun was about exposed on the eastern horizon. Its rays were casting shadows of her bedroom curtains on the second floor’s floor, but weren’t baking her skin since they didn’t reach far enough. Just a chair with a table and their generic purpose employed by Pinkamena. 

Just on her rump doing nothing besides intaking and exhaling. Psychologically, the gloomy mare’s mind was occupied with remembering and contemplating her past whereabouts. There were a couple of instances when that nearly stirred her diaphragm erupting. The whole daybreak, she nauseously relived her setbacks of that bloody knife, a chilling spine coursed throughout it.

“How could I have been so blind? What am I to commit an offensive performance? Could I have done worse?”

How about handling a sibling? Wouldn’t that be harsher? Ordinary relatives are more affectionate than ordinary friends. But still, siblings don’t leave siblings and friends don’t leave friends and they were more than mere mares, like a family. If only she’d been there to stop it. If only she’d known what the jokes were. If only she’d left and stayed with others. They would be here to stroke her, embrace her, comfort her.

“I wish there’s a way to fix everything. A time machine to the past would’ve been fantastic. They deserved me unlike what I just became.”

Pinkie caught herself before she lost herself. See, crumbling was what brought her casualties and that was sworn not to occur anymore. No longer was she within her mind anymore, a soliloquy by her pharynx.

“You have to keep lucid! You have to accept they’re…gone. No, that they’re just gone for now.”

She hoped, she won’t believe that murder can’t be undone. Murder wasn’t even a thing before what she did, so it’s controvertible that any form of resuscitation existed in Equestria. And there were more prominent banishments than the mare on the moon for those non-chroniclers.

“You won’t harm anypony again. You can protect everypony. You gotta face your fears. You know what they lost. You want to be their therapist. You-”

“Pinkie Pie? Are you okay?”

Opening hours from 6 for Sugar Cube Corner, the roused Cakes heard the pony’s spoken soliloquy at that hour. Cup intervened with a worried expression and perceived her employee needed emotional reassurance. However, Diane dared to save the beans.

“Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be? Heh heh heh.”

She loathed lying from now on, it didn’t feel right. However, they practically bought her blatant dishonesty, that fact further flinched the filly. Though, the swirly-maned approached straight-maned to acquaint some concerns.

“Listen, darling. We have noticed your sudden change of character, our conclusion ended up being you’ve been hiding something.”

“Y-your conclusion?”

“If you need somepony to talk to, we’d value wrapping our hooves around you.”

“What if it’s something horrible and I’m uncomfortable mentioning it?”

“Then, please take the time you need, whenever you feel like it.”

Carrot recommended being no bystander. These two are no pegasi, but would they gladly fold their wings over Pinkie’s shoulders? Sure, if they weren’t busy at the time. As a deep breath negotiated as if Pinkie was willing to let it slip, the Cakes had the nerve to be someplace before starting a word.

“I’m sorry, but you know we’re busy until late.”

There goes her opportunity. Yes, she could say it now, but somewhere in her cerebrum thought this was not a good time to bring it up.

“Oh, right.”

“Come downstairs and get yourself breakfast. Be as lively as you were when we get back.”

“I’ll try.”

Moving on she must, cognizant of the considerably continuous confusion consequences considering she concentrates constantly. Trembling out of her room and escaping the escalier was bathmophobic when she wasn’t even. Once the earth ponies found the foyer, Pinkie chose a vegan salad. Typically, her morning meal was a baked good that a bakery does.

“No confections?”

Mrs Cake questioned.

“Not today. I feel like having a diet today.”

“Alright…I guess we’ll meet again.”

“Yeah, well, have a nice day.”

Along with the gesture of waving was the countenance of lacking smiles until both custodians were obscured by the door closing. Pinkamena plopped her slaw and flank on dining furniture nibbling gradually and with potentially nopony to lecture and her alligator, Jelly, stares upstairs. All she could think about during the morning was scolding her mirror for keeping silent.

“Great, just great. You simply couldn’t speak up about it?!”

“But I don’t want them to think I’m a m-murderer, they could be mad at me or call the authorities.”

“You’ve established that already, plus you deserve to be sent to a dungeon or Tartarus or the sun or moon.”

“True, but not at the time. I want to make it up, there has to be something I could do. Maybe I could style for Rarity, I could harvest for Applejack, I could write to the princess for Twilight, or maybe I could-”

“Pinkie Pie? Are you okay?”

Unlucky, her mirror fell off its seat and broke. The pink mare paused her rambling to focus on the familiar young voice behind the front door. Inconceivable, lo and behold, Spike.

“Spike! I sorta missed you even though it’s been a day.”

“You did? Am I that significant to you?”

“Well, presumably? And yes, I’m okay.”

The wyvern approached the seat that was occupied by the framed glass, he did notice the shards on the floor.

“What happened there?”

“Oh, do you know the etiquettes of somepony random? Sometimes, their reflection became their friend.”

He understood by the remains of the mirror, that is weird. Actually, the only odd thing observed was how Pinkie acknowledged her randomness, which has never happened since Spike transferred to this town. He decided not to ask about it.

“What are you doing here?”

The dragon wanted to spread the news, which she knew little did he know.

“Twilight hasn’t returned since midday of yesterday. I thought she had a night-long business with her mentor or something, but this morning I just couldn’t find her.”

Afraid was the mare she’ll be sniffed by dear Twilight Sparkle’s assistant

“Oh, I see.”

“I was thinking maybe you know where she went.”

This was her opportunity to tell her what happened, but it was a biased coin flip to Pinkie where most of the wheel said ‘I will lie’. By some miracle, it would’ve struck ‘tell the truth’, but unfortunately, what she didn’t want was a likely outcome.

“I think she mentioned going on an excursion with her friends.”

“Without you? Also, that wasn’t part of her schedule.”

“I figured I was late. Also, what do you know about Twilight?”

“You fool, he’s gonna buy it.”

“You’re right, what do I know?”

Well, maybe some other time nopony knows when. Having a bowl half empty and a young dragon resting his chin on his claw with his elbow on the surface, the guilty mare ought to recall what she did to him yesterday.

“Spike, about yesterday…”

“Yeah, I remember. You baited me with rubies.”

“I was literally playing the bad detective.”

“Well, you’re not that bad.”

“No, I’m really sorry if I pressured you. Whatever I asked you, I was being unfriendly, I don’t mean anything by it.”

Her confession bewildered him; he didn't understand her motive. At the time, Scales didn't realize he had been bludgeoned. Spike viewed Pinkie's guessing game as just another guessing game.

“Well, whether you pressured me or not and whatever you asked me, let’s just say I had no clue what was happening that day.”

That was further evidence indicating the respondent had zero intentions of being in the room where it happened. Her execution for execution could have resulted in her execution because of that unnecessary execution, shrunk at the revelation.

“If I did realize I was walking into a corner at the time, don’t worry about it. As you’re Pinkie Pie, I’d always forgive you.”

“Always?”

“Always.”

“Even if it’s horrible?”

Nodded the snout of the young dragon, unsuspicious about Pinkie’s subtle hints that herself thought he shouldn’t be. Why was the juvenile sitting next to the ambicide? Near the end of the dialogue, though the salad bowl was polished, final queries on that occasion.

“Do you have any plans for today? Like throwing parties? Gladdening ponies?”

Consider what she did yesterday, in her basement, at that convention.

“No, not today.”

“Taking a break, huh? I can respect that. Since the five seemed to be missing I’ve heard, I’d gamble that triad of fillies are gonna be anxious as they stumble to school. Maybe you should accompany them to start with.”

A quarter-hour before the CMC’s rousing time, imagine Sweetie Belle, a member, walking the lonely road without her parents or Rarity. This was an opportunity to redeem her benevolence, make up for her deceased, and pray that they were watching.

“Yeah, maybe I will.”

“Cool. I could go for a chore or a read or a walk for the day and let’s hope Twilight and the others will return.”

Pinkie agrees in a different context, hope can last until something crushes it. The young wyvern escaped his seat, wishing her good fortune before closing the doors behind him. The equine’s gears silently started working, her assignment for the day became to cure the encumbered burden by visiting their homes and presences. Those fillies lost their only considerate siblings, it’s her turn to be courteous to these siblings.

It’s settled, might as well get over it. Nervous her appearance would bring attention to the citizens, the conception of them rubbernecking the former killer without any implication, being unable to tell the truth herself pains her. However, this is the redemption they would’ve wished for she thought. Gained confidence to pivot the door to the yard and blinding light, Pinkamena was shielding it like a vampire.

“Here goes everything.”





Meanwhile, the midnight equine of the night spied the rise of the shine and end of her nightly shift, but the start of her morning requisite reading. By the sun’s apex, Princess Luna rolled over her bed, strode the Canterlot castle hallways to the archives and went scrutinizing. Any information about inaccessible dreams would be useful now, anything to identify Element of Laughter’s condition and help whatever it was.

Books and scrolls under the ‘dream’ or ‘nightmare’ rows might answer why that dream slaughtered Luna’s cheek violently so that it stings through the bandage. The problem is that she’s not like young Twilight Sparkle. She has read some treatises about dreams, but, unfortunately, not all the treatises. Moreover, she admitted the bookcases are wide.

“Looks like I just have to act like Twilight until I get what I want.”

Nonetheless, she proceeded with the process of taking book after book, flipping page after page and pretending to enjoy every second. Spoiler alert: it was laborious for even the top echelon, especially if Luna is doing it quickly for Ms Pie so that she may assist her as soon as possible.

A 144 pages per second pace that she maintained non-stop investigating. Until 25 textbooks on imagination magic, she became oblivious to the shrieking library entrance and the crescendo of clip-clopping hooves. A taller white alicorn and her aurora-like mane approached, the day bringer.

“Luna, what are you doing here?”

Frozen abruptly, so focused she didn’t anticipate a reaction from somepony behind her back in a second. She turned her muzzle so that half of it saw her approaching geriatric Celestia with a dish of decorative pancakes and a plastic fork.

“Sister! I was trying to learn more about dream magic. What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was gonna invite you for breakfast, but you weren’t found in your bedroom.”

“Oh, well, forgive me. It was urgent.”

“And why is that? Did something happen to your eye? Because I noticed you’re not looking at me directly.”

“It’s not my eye, it’s my cheek.”

Luna finally revealed the other side of the muzzle covered with an adhesive strip.

“Sweet myself! What injury have you encountered?”

“Laceration. Excreting blood along with excruciating agony.”

“Laceration? By what?”

“That’s what I wanted to know. I was in the dream realm doing regular duties as should when I encountered a “locked dream” that I heard Pinkie Pie from. When I got closer, it just violently slayed my face.”

When a monarchy identifies the substance of blood in the world of centuries of peace for the first time in forever, they would recognize it as a serious violation. Princess Celestia transpiring to her younger sister’s experience shuddered as if she imagined herself in those silver hoof shoes.

“Did you perceive what she said?”

“From what I can gather, she seemed to be crying and begging in there.”

“So it was a nightmare, I assume.”

“Yes, which is why I’m positive there’s an answer somewhere in this library, that subject must be traumatized.”

Determined, wasn’t she? But what about planning that Saturday night? Is she gonna be surrounded by bookcases until she finds the right volume or combination of chapters? Looking around the room, the other princess also admitted their royal bibliotheca is massive. There was no way she could do this on her own in precious time.

“Tell you what, Luna. Come with me for breakfast and then afterwards, we’ll scour the entire library high and low.”

“But what about Pinkie Pie?”

“Hey, it was just a dream, right? And as far as I’m aware, she is relatively mindful in all sticky situations. I suppose this one is no different and not the most difficult to get unstuck from.”

Potentially, that magenta equine is crying for help. Perhaps, the only pony who could help her right now is Luna. But if otherwise, then there would be no rush in finding the solution. And considering Celestia’s case, she’s not wrong.

“Alright. Thank you, sister.”

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s take a seat at our wide table and spend our time together eating stacked pancakes.”

“Can I have mine with vanilla ice cream, Tia?”





She remembered that Rainbow Dash was not Scootaloo’s sister and more of her idol, but does she value her hero more than her parents? Knowing she would eventually discover her loss, it might be advisable if her friends around her age told her. In that case, first, she took the road to the Carousel Boutique.

As she did, the few active ponies noticed parallel-maned recognized as that euphoric mare not anymore euphoric. Ignorance is bliss unless bliss is ignored. They needed a frown upside-down down there, they needed that smiling pony down there, but this pony is frowning, there’s no way this pony could light up the mood.

“I’m sorry, everypony. I don’t think I can make you smile. Because the last true smile I made was relentless.”

She bumped into the awning of the clothing store while speaking in soliloquy. Pinkie rubbed her face as she noticed Opalescence the cat and Sweetie Belle seated on the furniture. At least there were two civilians present in the building. The filly glanced at Pinkie waving through the window after hearing a sound on the awning. She ran over to open the door.

“Pinkie Pie? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I had my focus somewhere else.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d check on you since Rarity’s not around.”

“You knew? When was the last time you saw her?”

In certainty, the last vision of the aesthete was her horror when the blade penetrated the unicorn’s pharynx and her last breath. Too vile of an explanation to the underaged, young enough to faint or puke due to blood spills. Needing to regretfully lie without a choice.

“Rarity was invited last morning.”

“Do you know where she’s gone?”

Pinkie shook her head begrudgingly. A few minutes remained to remain here until Sweetie’s departure to class, so the filly stepped away to let the mare through to inspect the place. The brightly coloured and decorated environment in contrast to the gloomy and graffitied basement. The joyous work of her friend became more cherished the moment she emerged from the dark flight. She inspected the table hiding under the tablecloth and how empty it was.

“Have you eaten breakfast this morning?”

“No. I was thinking of making it myself, but I’m sure you remembered me and the others tried baking to get our cutie marks.”

Sweetie Belle recalled. Coming here restored that memory, who would have thought? Those fillies never proved their brewing abilities, but they never gave up trying. Before becoming missing, Rarity routinely served her sister a meal before seeing Cherilee, so what is for breakfast?

“Would you like a sandwich or 5-minute pancakes?”

“A sandwich is fine.”

Not that the filly was avoiding desserts, just a dish she could polish within a moment punctual for school. Within 3 minutes, Pinkie leisurely created the healthy herbivore hoagie and then placed it on the table.

“What’s with the manestyle? Why is it no longer poofy?”

“Oh, did you know this was my mane when I was younger? I just wanted to re-experience it.”

Other locals queried that same question and essentially received the same lie they believed in. As Sweetie Belle masticated her sandwich, Pinkie pondered why she has the instinct to keep the truth. Yes, there’s always a time for sincerities about anything, but this cutthroat mare can’t endure, can she?

In the meantime, she decided to explore the boutique of recollections to appreciate what kind of friend Rarity was to her. She noticed a pink something slithering out of a cupboard from the corner. She went to look and what she found were gowns. Gowns for the once-in-a-lifetime Grand Galloping Gala. She acknowledged that they were ideal for the setting, which is nice, but it’s unfortunate that her friends won’t be alive on Saturday night.

“The gala is tomorrow. Those plans, the fun, my friends…”

Waterfalls from before continued to seep as she imagined her treasured mares sad that they died before the big moment. Pinkie ultimately cancelled their opportunities, at least for now.

“I know th-they had good reasons to come. W-Why did I act like a monster? H-How could I have committed something horrible?”

Not only would some of them never be worn again, but the entire attire supplier retired and expired. Who else in Ponyville would be available for the position? Pinkie knew everypony in town and the only fashionista around was Rarity.

What’s gonna happen to the revel now? What are the princesses gonna do? What are the guests gonna spend their bits on? What are the Wonderbolts gonna do? What is Prince Blueblood gonna do? What is Pinkie gonna do? Is Pinkie gonna come? What happens if she doesn’t?

“Are you okay? Pinkie Pie?”

The future, but this is reality. She’s gotta focus because insanity is unwanted. Sure, do it for the spirits, but her spirits must be lifted. Sweetie Belle snapped her composure from the barrage of questions, Pinkie wiped her tears, closed the closet and saw the filly.

“Yeah, I just remembered the milestone in showcasing our gala costumes to an audience.”

“Was it that sympathetic?”

“Contemporarily, yes. You should be back on the table.”

“Oh, my plate’s cleaned. I’m ready for school.”

Without company, she couldn’t wait to bring closer her closest peers and fellowship. After all, with no one but her household feline to share discussions with, perhaps a whole day of fillyhood fun with filly friends would be so much better, won’t it?

Belle was ready and so was Diane, the filly brightly stashed essential stationery in her saddlebag and the not-so-bright mare guided her to the exit on the road to Sweet Apple Acres. From the boutique to the farm, the casual walking road did take a long time, but it felt longer to Pinkie mainly because ponies were staring at her. Knowing that she understood and deserved it, these villagers nauseated her.

Despite the effort to keep her head up, they had reached the zones of the apple farm where the school and Applebloom resided.

“Alright, you should know where school is. I’m gonna see if Apple Bloom’s okay if that’s okay.”

“Don’t worry, I understand.”

“You do?”

“I may not know what it is, but I perceived that you’ve been stressed out lately.”

Suddenly, Sweetie Belle dashed off, leaving the surprised equine behind. What she witnessed was a young filly who comprehended Pinkie’s illness without the desire to know why. Maybe she would also understand what led her to murder. Shoot! She would be glad to blurt her secret if only she asked. No matter, she had to visit dear Applejack's dear family and dear sister.

Unlike Rarity’s sibling, Apple Bloom lost her older sister but still lives with a Big Mac and Granny Smith. However, this family’s sombre history was especially blind to her and made the account more accountable. She learned that behind the main entrance is a hoof-crafted potentially party prepared for her. Fearing what she may find, Pinkie chose to not approach it yet and instead knocked on the door to the living room and then heard the herd responding from inside.

“Could that be her?”

“About time. ‘Cause ah’m gonna make ‘er take ya to school, Sugarcube.”

Sounded like the granny expecting Applejack to deliver the filly to her educator. Bad news, she ain’t coming to do that soon. Very soon, the stable doors swung open and revealed Big Mac. When he saw Pinkie, he smiled and stepped aside to let her in and be seen by the other two members here.

“Pinkie Pie?”

“Consarn it! We were waitin’ fer Applejack.”

Mrs Smith explained. This was the family of somepony generally honest and urging her members to be as honest as her. She was also a living lie detector, so who knows if she taught her grandmother that lesson. Point is that she had to be careful, otherwise this family might not like discovering the truth.

“Sorry, guys. Talking about Applejack, she won’t be here in the morning.”

Straight-maned kept a straight face while saying that, making it perceived she had nothing behind her back.

“What? Why? Did somethin’ happen to ‘er?”

Apple Bloom questioned.

“She just went on an overnight trip with her friends, I didn’t go because I had more important errands to do.”

“Why didn't Applejack inform us beforehand?”

“Perhaps she simply lacked the time?”

The young filly from the South gave the testimony some contemplation as Pinkamena shivered, fearing that she wouldn't accept it. Unexpectedly, she did.

“Oh, ah see. Haven’t y’all scheduled a cruise from Horseshoe Bay? Applejack didn't have time to say goodbye as it was ready to go.”

“Yeah, precisely what happened.”

She was fortunate she was safe, yet she would rather have been exposed. That was an unbelievably fitting conclusion, at least she got to live another day only to fix things.

“So, does that mean our young’un will have to walk to school herself?”

Granny Smith enquired.

“She can do it, right? If not, her big brother can.”

“Eeyup.”

Macintosh responded.

“Alright, then. It’s not like ya ain’t done it before ‘cause before, ah was just gonna give Applejack a chore fer comin’ late. Apparently, that’s not the case.”

“Well, ah’m still eatin’ mah half apple pie ‘cause ah awoke later in the mornin’.”

Apple Bloom pointed out.

“Don’t worry, Sugarcube. Why don’t we let Pinkie Pie accompany ya while we get to harvestin’?”

“Sure, that’s actually what I planned to do anyway.”

They were surprised, why wouldn’t they be? Then again, why would they be? This was a mare who could accurately read minds and predict futures 99% of the time. Otherwise, there would’ve been a problem.

“Ya got a few minutes. Be sure she ain’t late fer school.”

The big stallion and elder had left the building leaving their youngest with one once a jolly party connoisseur who was unveiled and unleashed as a disguised one-time psychopath. If her hidden intentions were to murder this filly without witnesses, she was to run from the farm as far as she could and confuse the farmers.

Pinkie calmly grabbed a seat by the round table diametric to Apple Bloom’s position. The filly chewing on her family’s famous fruity tart as an earth pony like Winona dunking her head in a pet bowl as both residents heard the outsiders boxing malus trunks with hind limbs. Other than the sound of bucking and chewing, this room’s a little quiet, lonely even. To keep moods alive, the pink pony began a conversation.

“Are you worried about Applejack at all?”

“Worried? You just convinced me she’s on a cruise. It sounded fun, ah would miss ‘er fer a day, but of course, ah ain’t worried.”

For a day, huh? She would imagine the scale of how much she would miss her would’ve been larger than average. A special sister she must be then. Imagine what she would’ve been if she knew she was gone forever. Hmm…

“What would it feel like if you lost a sibling?”

A question mark appeared over the filly’s red mane followed by a thought bubble with gears. The answer was classified that it would pain her if she brought it up, but honesty is her signature passed down from her sister’s hoofsteps. Well, there were times when she did lie for reasons.

“Uh, ah don’t wanna answer that.”

“Um, why?”

“It’s complicated. Why d’ya wanna know?”

“That’s also complicated.”

“Were ya lyin’ somewhere?”

Apple Bloom was quickly becoming suspicious of Pinkie and the fear caught on her mind thinking she’ll find out sooner or later.

“W-what? Lying? Um, no?”

“What’re ya hidin’, Pinkie Pie?”

“N-nothing, nothing at all. Please don’t press me further…”

“Ah’m sorry, but as Applejack’s younger sister, ah want answers.”

Her back was against a corner, seemed there were no cutting corners. As if honesty was the price of escaping botheration, a tear developed in her eyes’ corner as she thought her listener wouldn’t forgive her.

“If I tell you, I doubt you’ll want to see me again.”

“Was it that awful?”

Pinkamena nodded dreadfully and then took a deep breath, getting prepared to reveal what she had been doing and potentially anguish the poor young foal. Never would one expect the laughter pony to tear up. Quicker than her confession, the poor young foal prevented it and decided herself not to know the secret.

“Ya know what? Forget it, maybe next time.”

“Huh?”

“Ah’m sorry, ah didn’t mean to push ya. Ah’m sure ya had a good motive fer what happened yesterday.”

“But I have something bad to tell you, something wrong.”

“Ya wanted to keep it a secret from everypony and ya had a good reason why. Don’t worry, keep it until yer ready. Were you ready?”

Wow. Advice from a filly, who knew? Fortunate was she who cried and then Apple Bloom sensed anxiety, she took it as nonchalantly as worms burrowing through apples. Whether or not it was intentional, she got to live another day.

“I wasn’t.”

Pinkie’s optical drizzle had stopped pouring and stayed to wait for Apple Bloom’s empty plate, or until she parts with her tart. After shovelling a few more bites, she swallowed the last bit in her mouth and pushed the dish in front of the magenta mare before standing from her stool.

“Ya can have the last slice.”

“Oh no, that was your pie.”

“Mah stomach’s heavy like a bag of flour, plus ah wanna play with Sweetie Belle now.”

There were still 10 minutes to the ringing of the school bell, but why not let her go early? She didn’t stop the foal as she organized her saddlebag, what to and not to carry while Pinkie watched. How kind was she by giving her strudel to the pony who loved strudels? Apple Bloom excitedly thrust the front yard gate ajar about to stroll the acres after a valediction.

“Bye, Pinkie Pie. Good luck in keepin’ yer secret.”

What a weird way to say ‘good fortunes’. With no ponytail of Apple Bloom to be seen any longer, Pinkie was by herself in the bright living room with a table of nothing but a part of a pie. Believe it or not, at the time, her mind was questioning whether she should eat the pastry. Eventually, her mind has determined to just go for it.

She grabbed the crust by her hooves, slipped it between her jaws, moved her cheeks and felt the old flavour sensed on her tongue. Her benevolent self left Equestria for her malevolent self, she came back aware of herself and had missed her old personality even from yesterday. Now she felt sentimental about how she missed the taste of Applejack’s pies. Fluid ducts resumed flowing.

“Oh, Applejack. I really missed this. I needed this. I need you to come back, I beg you.”

“By the way, ah almost forgot.”

Tear conduits suddenly stopped as Pinkamena turned to Apple Bloom who came back.

“Have you noticed the note on our barn door? It’s fer you.”

She hadn’t which was to her surprise, but the fact that she didn’t catch a glimpse of writing on the big barn door intimidated her. What could be behind the big door to a big room?





Now is the time to face the harsh truth that lies beyond the gates. How special of them to leave a note on the door’s surface before they left and never returned. The adhesive ribbon must've deteriorated over a day of being stuck and sucking muck and guck from the dirty planks.

“Don’t clean up the party until Pinkie arrives.”

Presumably, whoever wrote the memo left last and was the last pony to venture into that awful basement. That could either be Rarity, whose blood clogged her trachea, or Fluttershy, who became a marksmare’s survivor. That small square of paper was what they did for Pinkie

Anything inside it will make her regret what she’s done, no doubt. Even if the jamboree isn't breathtaking, it's still a celebration put together by her friends. Feelings are conflicting again. Should she fear the best or be grateful when she sees it? As fear set in, she blinked and exhaled.

“Everypony, this is what you want me to see.”

The doorway yawned awake slowly and revealed the interior of the barn. Colour palettes in the area are typically dull, but this time, vivid hues have been introduced. The straw-covered floor was littered with confetti and ribbon, the rafters were lined with streamers and a pennant and balloons were secured to support beams. Three tables were positioned in reasonable positions, one with gifts, another with a gramophone and obviously, the cake.

“Everything is so colourful, so positive.”

Pinkie was walking deeper into the boulevard of broken dreams. Embracing the joyful ambience, she was blown away by the beautiful decorations in the room. As the party aficionado of Ponyville, she knew it took those 30 minutes to tweak it to perfection. Additionally, Pinkie's face was well-designed on the cake. It looked like the Cakes’ cake job.

Her most delightful surprise would have been if she hadn't interfered, but instead, she relentlessly compelled. She ruined her own anticipating surprise, she ruined their moment to shine, she ruined a potentially prominent party time. Waterfalls resumed to stream down Pinkie’s cheeks as she pictured herself playing with her precious ponies.

“Th-this looks like a fun party, it looks p-perfect. I w-would’ve loved to party here, but now…”

Pinkie snivelled. Salted rivers were flowing out freely, perhaps enough sodium to season a bucket of popcorn.

“I…I’m sorry, if only I had seen this sooner, if only I had followed Rainbow Dash… Rainbow Dash, is this what you want me to see? If so, I saw it. I saw it! Please, if you can hear me, forgive me.”

Can’t expect the only breathing soul to enjoy a party with the same experience as having their old friends.

“No, I need my friends, my only bestest friends in Equestria. I can’t party… alone.”

She twisted her neck because of instincts and saw a picture frame nailed to the wall. A photograph of the six Spirits of Harmony and Spike, probably AJ’s. The pony approached it and held it in her hooves to cherish it. Four of the six equines in the picture are deceased. Those left alive included the murderer and the survivor, who had Pinkie’s attention.

“I need to see her.”

To be continued…