It was gray.
Pinkie didn't get any sleep, and her mane was gray.
Luckily not all of it, only a single strand in the center. Still, it stuck out in an otherwise sea of pink, a rock among gems. Just as well, it'd lost most of its poofiness. A curl or two here and there, but most of it had fallen flat as a curtain and stuck to the sides of her face. No amount of mane care, pins, clips, or even a curling iron fixed it. Which, after Rarity's numerous attempts to force it straight, Pinkie should have known nothing would work.
Yet, after staring at her reflection for what seemed like hours and trying to recognize herself, she had to try.
The bags under her eyes weren't exactly an appealing sight, either.
She'd lain in her bed for hours, waiting for sleep to take her and give her the solace she'd been seeking. Instead, it never came and she ended up way more tired than before. At one point, she'd gotten desperate enough to try the sleeping aids in the Cakes' medicine cabinet, which served the single purpose of making her more tired rather than put her to sleep. Like being hungry with no appetite. Brushing her teeth and taking a bath helped only marginally, and the lights she'd left on in her room only ended up being an annoyance that worsened her frustration.
It was hard to say why. That inability to relax had dug its way deep into her, leaving Pinkie sick with that gut-wrenching dread that something was hiding in the sprinkled shards of shadows that all the lights in her room just barely didn't cover. It didn't give her that assurance she craved, only burning her eyes more than sleep deprivation already was.
Gummy sat on her messy bed, having made his way up there at some point. Staring at her with his beady, occasionally blinking eyes. A blot of jealousy swelled up in the back of her throat, threatening to choke her with how annoying it was that he was able to get so much sleep and she didn't get even one second.
Then he gave her that classic blink of his where the right eye closed and then the left one.
"Oh, I can't stay mad at you!"
His sunbathed scales helped in shaking off her grogginess, at least for a few seconds. She had to put him down at some point so he could eat and do Gummy things.
Before leaving, Pinkie tried one more time to fix her smile. Peering at her reflection in the window as she passed it, taking a few seconds to recognize herself. She pressed her hooves against her cheeks, raised her mouth and tried to get her lips to reach her eyes.
"Come on."
It looked incredibly wrong, like one of those fake smiles she always put on for family photos: all teeth and no joy.
"Ugh, fine, be that way."
With a grunt and roll of her eyes, Pinkie flicked the lights off and left her room, making her way to the kitchen which held the key to getting through today: coffee. It was black, bitter, and perfectly barftastic. As much as she hated it, it never failed to give her energy she occasionally lacked. Twilight had mentioned multiple times that it was an acquired taste, and that it was better experienced as a whole than a drink.
She'd mixed it with sugar, milk, and cream multiple times as she tried to get used to it, and she just couldn't ignore that underlying hot-water texture that no amount of additives really got rid of.
Since she hadn't slept, she went down earlier than the Cakes usually did, finding that the oven hadn't even been preheated for the day, nor were any of the cooking utensils set out. It should have been expected since the Cakes hadn't gotten out of bed yet, but she'd seen it so rarely it still felt odd. If she was going to be up so early, might as well be productive with all the extra time on her hooves.
After putting in coffee grounds and scrunching her muzzle at the strong odor of brewing, Pinkie started setting out all the things they used for baking throughout the day. She tried bouncing like she often did in the morning, but there was an aching in the ends of her hooves that made it hurt; maybe she sprained something when she fell down that hole?
That hole…
Somepony's friend died down there, abandoned and alone until she found them. How long had it been before she found it? How long would she have been down there if Limestone couldn't find a ladder, If she'd been left with that corpse?
Pinkie stared into the coffee pot, watching it slowly fill with the dark liquid she'd need throughout her day. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a few minutes, that fatigue deep in her bones would fade away.
She could still remember that dream, so vivid and easy to bring forward it may as well have just happened. The creaking of its bones as The Skeleton moved, made worse by being the only sound there. The stench was just as putrid, so disturbingly vile even when standing right beside the pot she could practically smell it. Rancid and strong enough to make her stomach coil, pushing down any appetite she had out of fear it'd come right back up.
Even now, after almost an entire day had passed, she couldn't help but question if that was really a dream. She'd had so many of them, the majority pleasant and that Pinkie rarely wanted to wake up from. Those were always vague and foggy, but this one was so detailed.
Is it possible it wa—
Pinkie felt a hoof on her shoulder. She couldn't bring herself to look at whose it was.
"Good morning, dearie!"
Pinkie startled a shriek as she jumped away. Pinkie pressed a hoof against her chest as her heart bounced into her throat and back down like it was using a trampoline.
"Oh no, did I scare you?" She reached forward to touch her, only to retract as she checked Pinkie over, gaze hovering on her face and then to her mane. "Are you ok, Pinkie? You look exhausted. Were you not able to get any sleep after." Mrs. Cake pursed her lip, briefly glancing to the side. "What happened?"
"I, uhm." Pinkie counted her breaths one by one, waiting for the time between them to stop being so short. "I didn't really. That's ok, though! It's not the first time; I used to pull all-nighters when Pound and Pumpkin first showed up, so I'll be fine. Just need some of that sweet caffeine and sugar!"
Pinkie got one of the many larger mugs in the cabinet, pouring the fresh coffee as carefully as she could and trying not to spill any of it as her hooves shook.
"I thought you hated coffee?"
"I do." Pinkie poured in an abundance of sugar, followed by two or three different flavored coffee creamers until it was hardly coffee anymore. Closer to some of the many concoctions she and Rainbow used to create when they were trying to come up with new flavors. "But it works!"
She raised it to her lips, heavily blowing on it and giving it a tentative sip. There was some wonderful creaminess, just not thick enough to pretend it was something other than coffee she was drinking. It wasn't good at all, but it was tolerable.
"Well, if you're sure." Mrs. Cake walked around the kitchen, keeping her eyes on Pinkie. "Do you have any plans today? Any parties?"
"Yes! I have one for..." Pinkie blanked, failing to come up with whom the party was for. She knew for certain there was one today, a birthday maybe? It'd never taken her more than a few seconds to remember before. "Piña Colada! It's her birthday today, and I was going to bake her a cake. Though she told me she likes cupcakes more than whole cakes so I was going to make a cake out of a bunch of smaller cupcakes."
"That sounds nice. Would you like me to help you bake it? There actually aren't a lot of orders today, so I should have plenty of time."
"Really? Yeah, that'd be super! Thanks, Mrs. Cake."
"Of course."
Pinkie rubbed whatever grogginess hid in her eyes, placing the mug on the counter and grabbing the ingredients she needed. Cupcakes were the simplest thing to make, and baking was one of her favorite hobbies. No amount of sleep deprivation could take the joy out of that.
_____________
"Twilight?"
Pinkie knocked on the door of Twilight's castle, in a stupor as she stood waiting for someone to answer. The day felt much longer than it normally did, which she would typically consider a good thing since they were often far too short. However, the sheer exhaustion that clung to her—no matter how much coffee she chugged—made it drag on painfully slow. She found herself wishing for night to come sooner, just for the hope that tonight would be different, that she'd be able to sleep.
Beneath that desire was untethered fear that she wouldn't be able to. Like all that awaited her in her room once the sun fell would be an empty bed, and shadows she could only hope were as empty.
"Pinkie? Twilight's rearranging the library right now, wha-whoa." Spike's words hitched in his throat, standing on the other side of the opened door, staring up at her with widened eyes and an agape mouth. "You look like Twilight when she tries to get through her reading list in one night. Are you okay?"
With an exasperated sigh, Pinkie opened the thermos full of coffee that'd allowed her to chug along. Taking a drawn-out sip from it and nearly gagging at how lukewarm it'd become, just drinking whatever was left as she tried to power through what she needed to until—
"I'm just a little tired, Spike. I haven't been able to sleep at all after I got back, which hasn't happened since Pound and Pumpkin first arrived."
"Oh, well, that sucks." He was blatantly staring at her mane, clearly bothered by it, without a doubt specifically the gray part. "What happened anyway? Twilight won't tell me about it, though she's talked about it around me plenty."
As grumpy as she was, it was hard for Pinkie to blame him. The first time he'd seen her like that, she forced him into a confession that wasn't true, and afterward wasn't exactly a joyride either.
"That's probably for the best, I—" She made the mistake of blinking for a few seconds longer than she should have, the image of that skeleton stabbed into the dirt roof sending a shudder down her spine. "Saw something I shouldn't have. I'll be okay after some sleep, so can you take me to Twilight? She must have a spell or something that'll help."
"I mean, she probably does; Twilight has a spell for just about anything. If there isn't one, she'd make it." Spike started walking down one of the hallways, slowly at first to make sure Pinkie was following. "Did you try some sleeping medicine stuff? There's a stash of emergency NightMarequill under my bed that has knocked me out every time I've needed it to."
"That's—" the umpteenth groan lurched out of her throat and pried her jaw open, making the soreness painfully prominent "—the first thing I tried. Nothing worked; plus they all taste gross."
"Not if you get the candy versions."
"There are candy versions?"
"Yeah! Bubblegum, cotton candy, blueberry, all kinds of stuff." Spike opened the door, eyes darting between Twilight in the room and Pinkie. Twilight pulled out dozens of books at a time and moved them around in seemingly random order. "Don't tell Twilight, but when we lived in Canterlot I used to give her them whenever she was focused on something and trying to avoid sleep."
"And it worked?"
"Every time."
Twilight glanced at them, placing the last few books on the shelf and giving herself a satisfying nod before pivoting on her hooves towards them. Her pleasant smile slipped as she hovered on Pinkie far more than Spike.
"Oh Pinkie, you look exhausted. Were you not able to get any sleep?" Twilight frowned as she shifted her attention to Pinkie.
A sting of annoyance bloated up in her chest. She'd heard that question so many times today it was becoming a mockery. It was irrational and dumb; she knew they were only asking because they cared. She swallowed it, just like she had all day.
"Nope, not a wink."
"Is it because of—" she brought a hoof up to her chest, flickering her eyes between Spike and Pinkie "—what you saw?"
He scowled, crossing his arms and half pouting as he muttered something to himself. The façade of a smile Pinkie had creased her lips into just as spontaneously disappeared; each time she tried to make it stay was growing more challenging.
"Yeah, I think so."
"I was afraid this was going to happen. Uhm." Twilight stopped herself, nervously tapping her hoof. "Spike, can you leave us alone for a bit?"
"I'm not a baby anymore, you know. I can handle whatever she saw."
"I know you can. That doesn't mean you have to. Pinkie will get through this, but it's still awful that she has to in the first place. Please, for me?"
He made a droning noise, chest rising and nostrils flaring as he exhaled, tossing up his arms and walking back through the door.
"Alright. I'll be busy doing…something."
"Thank you."
"Yeah, yeah."
With a shutting of the door, Pinkie and Twilight were alone, trapped in a fading stasis of tension and anticipation. Pinkie knew that with coming to Twilight, she'd have to think about The Skeleton when she'd been trying to avoid doing just that all day. Blinking brought it in flashes; her burning eyes made it nearly impossible to stop herself from doing so.
Even so, she couldn't go another night without sleep.
"So." Twilight placed one hoof over another, rigid wings twitching. "Why can't you sleep?"
"Don't know," she muttered, burying the frustration at answering the same question over and over. "I laid in my bed for hours and only got more sleepy, and then it was morning."
"Did you try sleeping medicine?"
Pinkie felt a headache coming on, a pulsating pain in the back of her mind that reached forward a little more with every beat of her heart.
"First thing I tried; none of them worked. Just made me more sleepy."
"Wait, none of them worked? Pinkie, did you use multiple at once?" Twilight moved closer, eyebrows drawing together." Don't do that! That's how you go to sleep and never wake up."
"That sounds pretty nice right about now."
She grimaced as soon as that intrusive thought left her mouth, realizing how dark that sounded far too late. Pinkie hid behind her mane; something she hadn't done for years. It didn't make her feel better, or make the world go away, but it helped make her feel just a little less alone.
Instead of asking if she was ok like she feared she would, Twilight extended her right wing and embraced her in a hug, giving an intimate comfort she needed far more than she'd admit. It was warm, sincere, and sucked out all the cold rigidness that had lingered in her very bones as soon as her hooves had swung over her bed.
It was nice, it was genuine, and it was what she'd been needing all day.
She melted, letting out a breath she'd been holding all day and shutting her weary eyes. For once, that black behind her eyelids didn't cloak the outline of a bony figure. Only a darkness that was empty of anything, as it should be.
Of course, it was temporary; perhaps that was what made it so meaningful. Twilight pulled away, wing retracting to her side as she took a few tentative steps back.
"Feeling any better?"
"A little." Pinkie rubbed her face, trying to ignore the tingle of a lie on her lips. "Thank you."
"Of course, you looked like you needed it." Twilight walked over to one table in her library, yanking two seats with her magic and placing them on either side as she gestured for Pinkie to sit. "Do you want to tell me about it? I might be able to help a bit; I've had my fair share of sleepless nights."
"I have too, just—" she sat in the chair opposite Twilight, having done so for the first time today "—not like this. I didn't really sleep a lot before going to the farm, so I'm running on a few hours, caffeine, and as much sugar as I can eat."
"And you haven't crashed?"
"No, I have. Just earlier today I was throwing a party, and in the middle of it I got really tired and it was harder to move. I ended up just laying on a picnic table while I waited for it to pass."
"What?!" Twilight jumped, her wings springing out to her sides. "And you didn't tell anyone?"
"No. I didn't—" The happy face in her mind of Piña Colada brought a tiny joy for Pinkie, easily the highlight of her day. Despite how sleep-deprived she was, she made herself throw that party the same way she always had and it was worth it. "Want to ruin her birthday."
"Pinkie." Twilight's voice trailed off, her eyebrows relaxing as she shook her head. "You've got to care about yourself too." With her magic she brought up a notepad and a pencil, writing something on top and then underlining it with a satisfied nod. "And you weren't able to fall asleep then, either?"
"Not really." Pinkie raised an eyebrow, staring at the notepad in Twilight's grasp. "Whatchya writing down?"
"Oh, you know, just—" she twirled the pencil, nervously giggling as she avoided eye contact "—stuff. It helps me compartmentalize everything if I write it down, that's all."
"Okie dokie then." Her usual mantra had no enthusiasm, sounding more like an obligatory greeting. Pinkie shifted around in the chair, catching a glimpse of the outside through one of the windows. It was already getting dark when she started her trek to Twilight's, now the blue sky had become a tainted orange and soon the streetlights would be the only source of light.
She'd have to walk home through that, with only patches of light to guide her. It didn't matter that she could navigate Ponyville with her eyes closed, or that some part of her knew that there couldn't possibly be anything in the dimly lit corners that was watching her no matter where she went.
As many reasons as she could come up with to try reasoning with herself, not a single one soothed the sickening sense of foreboding that had wrapped itself around her heart.
"I have to ask: are you experiencing any visual or auditory hallucinations? Those often coincide with sleep deprivation; admittedly usually only after seventy-two hours but sometimes they start earlier."
"Hallucinations?" Pinkie quickly turned back to Twilight, placing one hoof over another. "Like things I see that aren't there?"
"Well, you wouldn't know they aren't there if someone doesn't tell you they aren't there, but yeah. Usually really minor things, like seeing a shadow move out of the corner of your eye or hearing your name called when nopony is around."
"That's—" She recalled the 'party' she'd had when she thought all her friends hated her, and how convinced she was of her new 'friends' existence. It was harrowing and shameful to think back on it now. Considering they never brought it up, hopefully Rainbow never told them about who her 'friends' were when she walked in.
Of course, maybe they just didn't want to talk about it around her.
"Nothing like that, I'm pretty sure. Although..." Pinkie ran a hoof up her shoulder, pressing her lips together as she swallowed. "It does sometimes seem like something is watching me."
Twilight straightened in her seat, the aura around her pencil growing smaller. "All the time?"
Pinkie shook her head, attention drifting to the slabs of dark spread out in the library. Behind the crystal pillars, on top of the bookshelves where the light's salvation couldn't touch, under her chair. It was everywhere if she searched for it, and that was far too easy to do.
It wasn't lurking in the dark. Not now, at least.
"No, just when I'm alone. Or trying to sleep."
There was a distinct scribbling noise as Twilight wrote that down, doing so without having to look.
"Is that why you can't sleep?"
"I don't think so." She concentrated on Twilight, listening to the sound of her pencil on the notepad and voice. "On the other hoof, it doesn't make it easier."
"Hmm," Twilight muttered to herself, flipping her notepad and wrinkling her forehead. "That could be paranoia, also a semi-common thing with sleep deprivation. Especially if it's happening as you're trying to sleep; except it doesn't explain why sleeping aids didn't work. That's really odd, even for you. More so with the fact that caffeine is working."
Pinkie tilted her head, reaching back and grabbing the thermos. "What does that have to do with it?"
"Contrary to popular belief, caffeine doesn't give you energy. What it's actually doing is suppressing a chemical called adenosine that's responsible for making you sleepy. If it's making you less sleepy, that means your brain is producing it as it normally should, and presumably is working as intended."
"Uh." Pinkie's eyes bounced back and forth, taking a few seconds longer to decipher Twilight's explanations than she usually would. "You're saying my brain is producing all the chemicals it should be for me to sleep, yet for some reason I'm not?"
"In simple terms, yes."
"Can you fix it?"
"Sort of?" Her response lost its touch of confidence, accompanied by a loss of eye contact as she awkwardly tapped her hooves together. "There's plenty of spells that could put you to sleep guaranteed. Problem being that's just treating the symptoms; that wouldn't tell me why you can't sleep in the first place. I'll have to research some stuff. Which isn't too bad since It'd keep me busy."
"But you can help me sleep?" Pinkie leaned forward, placing her front hooves on the table with a darting gaze.
"Assuming whatever it is isn't secretly magic-resistant, yes."
Pinkie wrapped her hooves around Twilight, hugging her for a second time while thanking her feverishly. The notepad and pencil clattered to the table, Twilight's horn growing dim until the magic had faded.
"You don't have to thank me." Twilight shook her head with a warm smile. "We're friends, that's what we do for each other."
"I know, it's just." Pinkie moved back into her seat. "A huge relief. Can you cast it on me now then? I could really use some shut-eye."
"Oh, I guess if you don't have anything else to tell me. Give me a sec." Twilight stepped away, effortlessly picking several books off the shelves with her and placing them in a constantly moving circle around her.
"Let's see, I need something that can be timed; most of these are instant. Do they all have the same matrix? Eh—" The spinning of literature halted once she'd centered her excited gaze on a passage. "Oh, this is perfect. Assuming you head to Sugarcube Corner right after, fifteen minutesish?"
She tapped her hoof against her chin, staring at Pinkie expectantly. Did she want her to agree? Or correct her? Or was it a rhetorical question?
"Yes?"
"Yes! Ok, this spell it is then."
All of the books were neatly put back where they were except for one, leaving it hovering in front of her as she wordlessly read something. Pinkie took this pause to check the outside once more, finding that the sun had sunk far beneath the horizon. Hardly a glitter of its beautiful rays could be seen and Ponyville's residents went about their nights and entered their homes while barely paying attention to it.
A longing to be like that again sat heavily on her chest.
"Twilight? Do you think you could, I don't know, make me able to glow in the dark?"
Twilight's narrowed gaze relaxed, ears flickering as she turned to Pinkie. "Like a toy? Uh, I think so? There's a spell for that, just intended for objects, not ponies. There's no reason to think it'd be dangerous or not." She traced Pinkie's stare, craning her head forward in search to find what had captured her attention. "Pinkie, are you afraid to walk home alone?"
Pinkie's chin fell to her chest, hooves clacking against the ground as she stood out of the seat. Batting away the stray gray strand that had perched itself between her eyes, reminding her of its taunting existence.
"A little."
Twilight placed a hoof on her shoulder, shrouding Pinkie in a raspberry cover of magic that stuck to her fur. It spread to a circle around her, dispelling any particle of darkness.
"There, that should last right up to the sleeping spell. I can walk home with you if it helps?"
Pinkie giggled to herself; a tiny tickling came with the magic that was hard not to smile at.
"Yeah, it would." She peered out into the dark once more. That dread untangled by the pleasantness of Twilight's spell.
"Thank you."
________
The glow had worn off as soon as she'd waved goodbye to Twilight and started walking up the stairs, which was also when the sleeping spell kicked in. A crippling dose of nausea hit her, leaving her woozy and her limbs wobbly like they'd been replaced with jelly. Pinkie had to prop herself against the railing as she walked up the stairs so she didn't fall over and sleep on the floor, as tempting as that was.
Once she'd fumbled into her room, she collapsed onto her bed, sinking into its welcoming pillows and blankets. The bed was numbingly warm, filling her senses only with softness and tranquility. It felt so incredibly right to close her eyes, a sureness fluttered in her mind that the tentacles of unconsciousness would finally enrapture her.
Pinkie deeply inhaled, letting the weariness that'd burrowed in her bones fade away. The only sound left in the room was the ticking of a clock, counting each one as the seconds passed.
One.
Two.
Three.
Fou—
Creaking.
There was a creaking noise on the other side of her room.
She'd lived in her room for the better part of a decade, and it only ever creaked in the first year when everything was settling. It hadn't made that noise since.
So then what was creaking?
Pinkie reluctantly opened one eye—burning more than usual—and scanned what she could see without moving. Gummy was in his bed, asleep and unbothered. The lights had been flicked on when she came in and left that way, leaving sparsely anywhere in her room unlit.
Then what made the creaking?
She remained unmoving for sixty clicks of the clock, fighting the unbearable weight of her eyelids with growingly shorter blinking. It became impossible to resist, giving in for the second time.
The creaking started again.
This time much closer.
This time much longer.
Both of her eyes opened, a cold sweat drenching her back. She clutched the blankets, raising her head out of the pillow she'd buried it in. It was difficult just to bring herself up, to fight the need to rest that she wanted so vehemently to give into. Familiar terror had gripped her heart, leaving it desperately struggling with every pump. Painful adrenaline coursing through her that conflicted with the spell, causing an aching in her muscles that demanded she sleep and a throbbing that screamed just as loudly to stay awake.
It was torture, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Pinkie gritted her teeth, sucking in cold air as she lay with her hooves pressed into the bed. Her throat was so agonizingly dry, each atom of air practically morphed into shards of glass in her lungs.
Then the creaking happened once more, directly above her.
Gummy didn't move.
Was it in her head? A hallucination? He was always a deep sleeper; it might not have been loud enough.
She had to check what it was.
With a grunt, Pinkie flipped herself over, splaying her arms as her chest rose with every raspy breath. The lights shredded her eyes, coming off much more intensely than before. She winced, moving her head away and squeezing her eyes shut until it was tolerable.
Once she opened them, the dreaded awaited her.
The Skeleton wasn't obvious at first, blending in with the variety of party decorations her room was adorned with. The pale white of its bones glistened in the corner of her vision, embedding itself into the roof of her home the same way it had that cave. Sharp ribs stabbing into the wood and piercing it with ease, hanging like a chandelier of decay. That 'creaking' was it swinging back and forth, as unmoving as Gummy in its version of 'sleep'.
Deep down, she knew it wasn't an eternal one.
So many pointless questions drove themselves into her mind, all drowned out by a skewered ringing that doubled in intensity with every throb. The creaking became distant and muffled, a drop in a wave of reverberation. It centered in her brain, sparking a searing flame that ignited everything into an inferno.
Pinkie opened her mouth, failing to make any noise other than something between a croak and a whimper—the exhaustion in her body was a euphoric breeze in comparison. She curled into the fetal position, her hooves against her ears in a futile attempt to block it out.
Then it fell.
The same way it did in the cave: collapsing at the end of her bed with a light thud. She tried to get as far up on her bed as she could, knocking her pillows aside as she climbed to the headboard of her bed. That might have been asking too much, as the consequence of forced movement was a crushing pain that felt like dozens of Holder's Boulders had been pushed onto her.
A single, decrepit hoof reached over the end of her bed. Its weight, while light, could be felt as it lifted itself. Its second followed, and soon its eyeless head. Bits of mostly decayed flesh clinging to its bones with its far faded clothing, jaws once more opening and threatening to fall off as it desperately clung to the rest of the skull.
It was impossible to move away from it, no matter how much she told her body to. In her flailing she hit her head against the back of her bed, worsening the aching to a blinding pain that overcame all her senses but sight.
Long, dragging movements scraped across her sheets. Arms and legs pointing upward stiffly like a stickbug, everything else wobbled and on the cusp of falling over. The closer it got, the more she could taste a whiff of that gut-churning stench of death. It was putrid, and emanated from the unliving abomination.
As it got closer, thanks to actual lights being in her room she could make out tiny marks coming from its sockets. They resembled tallies, or maybe eyelashes? They were black, deeply engraved into the bone and reaching into the holes of the skull.
She soon got a much closer look as it towered over her, standing with a trepid balance. Inch by inch, it brought its jaw down to her. Pinkie shut her eyes, sucking air through her teeth and waited for it to do whatever it intended to. Focusing on the ringing instead of the rattling of its carcass.
"G-giggle," she whispered with a shudder, attempting the only thing she could do. "At the ghosties."
With bated breath, she accepted her fate.
Only for nothing to happen.
The weight vanished.
One eye, then two opened. It was gone. Not even its odor was left behind, or imprints in her blanket.
She saw it out of the corner of her eye, back in the ceiling of her room. It creaked as it swung back and forth, holding itself up by the fractured ribs. The pain had faded away somewhat, hiding in the back of her mind and reminding her it was there in tolerable whispers.
Pinkie stayed silent, barely even breathing. She wanted to close her eyes—or just blink—for a second. Something in her chest convinced her that, the moment she did, it'd drop back down and claw its way on her bed again.
So she didn't.
She watched The Skeleton swing from her ceiling, too struck to reach for a pillow to hold or move at all.
Gummy remained asleep.
And another night passed without her joining him.