In Pieces
Pinkie sat in her room, drapes pulled across the windows, posters and paint alike ripped off the walls. Dead eyes slowly drifted over the half destroyed mass that was once one of the most vibrant places in Ponyville, maybe even Equestria. She flipped her head, relocating part of her glass-straight mane so she could see more clearly. All she did was sit, and stare, devoid of thought and emotion.
It had been a month since something had broken inside of the pink mare. One painfully short and infinitely long month since Pinkie had broken. Her room was her fortress, rebuffing everything from gifts, to visitors. The air was stale and dead, from both lack of circulation and from lack of sound.
Pinkie’s body was on the very precipice of destruction. She had neither spoken, or left her room during her month long self-inflicted incarceration--nothing but the occasional movement in response to a question, and none of that in at least a week. All that had become of the once-energetic mare was a broken record, spinning in her mind through five fateful minutes before skipping back to repeat once again.
*.....*.....*.....*
Pinkie was bouncing down the street, her usual ball of pep and energy, somehow even more than normal. She had spent all day sneaking around the town, decked out in her black catsuit, to avoid detection by a certain five ponies, of course. Pinkie Pie was preparing a party. A very special party, not anything like the party last weekend to celebrate two weeks since the last party
No, this one was going to be different, was going to be special. The single most important and biggest party ever thrown in Ponyville! It was for her friends, and her friends alone. A special party to celebrate how much she cared for and loved her friends, and to show how much they meant to the pink pony.
Hearing familiar voices from just a little ways down the street, Pinkie stopped. Weighing her odds of being seen with the advantage of talking to her friends for a little bit for at least five seconds, the pink pony changed the trajectory of her bounces, heading towards the voices. However, once she was close enough to overhear, she stopped in the shadow of a nearby house and listened.
“I don’t know about you girls, but I have grown quite weary of Pinkie lately. She is just so overbearing at times, it’s exhausting. I know she means well, but would it be too much to ask for her to tone it down a little?”
“I know! It’s like she almost goes out of her way to be annoying. Sometimes I wonder what the hay is up with her.”
“Ah know whatch’all mean. The other day, she completely trampled mah saplings, just to give me a hug. Ah know that she is our friend ‘n all, but she can be a hooffull at times.”
“Um, yesterday, she scared a bunch of my animal friends when she used her megaphone to say hi to me. It scared me so badly, I almost jumped out of my fur...”
“I have read some books lately, mostly pertaining to the study of the brain and how it works. I think Pinkie suffers from Bipolar Disorder, and obviously a severe case of ADHD. According to the books I read, she could also have some sort of mental retardation as well. The way she can be so foalish just makes me believe it more.”
Pinkie’s ear twitched. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her friends, her fellow Elements, hated her? They thought she was annoying? Retarded? Overbearing? While she had been known to take some things too far, and be very energetic, this was something she had never expected to hear.
Pinkie wandered aimlessly off, all plans of a party banished straight to the moon. Broken in both mind and body, she walked around aimlessly, not noticing the stares and murmurs directed her way. “What’s wrong with Pinkie Pie,” they said. “What happened to her mane? Her coat? Her never ending smile?”
For hours she wandered, noticing only enough to keep from running into walls and ponies, nothing else. The world slowly drained of all color. The bright blue sky above festered and burst down into a light gray, a light contrast to the slightly darker clouds hanging above. Over and over the conversation she overheard repeated in her mind, background music to the demented music of her thoughts.
What did I do? Where did I go wrong? Why don’t they love me anymore? Did they ever love me at all, or was it just a ruse? “Let’s mess with Pinkie. Let’s use her for her element, and her parties, and her baking, but let’s make fun of her behind her back. Let’s talk about how stupid she is, how annoying she is. Let’s just mess with her head, and drop her when she gets too annoying.”
Hoofstep followed hoofstep, keeping the beat to the sound of her thoughts; a dull, plodding sound that echoed in an endless loop in the depths of her soul. One at a time, memories of every single party she had ever thrown flashed through her mind’s eye. Everything she had done, all the things she had made, and wrote, and sang. Was it all for naught? Was there really any purpose in anything she did?
Slowly, she became moderately aware, noticing she had meandered back to her room. Eyes blinded by tears, mind blinded by rage she lashed out, ripping down the pink, frilly things around her room. She tore down the posters on her walls, gouged at the layer of fluorescent pink paint on the walls. In a last, vain attempt to rid the world of the offensive color, she grabbed her thick, downy bed sheets, and launched them out the window onto the crowds below.
Bereft of all else, she sat on the floor, threw her head back, opened her mouth wide, and screamed.
It may have been minutes, or hours or days for all it mattered to Pinkie, but eventually, Mrs. Cake burst into the room. She took one quick look around before rushing over to the pink pony sitting on the floor. “Oh, Celestia, Pinkie, what happened here? Are you ok?”
Pinkie looked up at the pony hovering over her, though she made not a sound.
“Pinkie? Pinkie, come on, talk to me. Are you okay?”
The pink mare blinked slowly.
Mrs. Cake bit her lip. “Carrot, hun, get Nurse Redheart, get someone, I think something is wrong with Pinkie!” she shouted down the stairs before returning to her younger charge. She reached a hoof out, lying it gently on the pink cheek. “Just hang in there, Pinkie. It’ll be ok.”
A few more minutes passed before a white earth pony burst into the room, gently but firmly moving Mrs. Cake out of the way. “Pinkie,” the new pony said, turning the pink mare’s head until they looked into each other’s eyes. “Can you hear me?”
Pinkie did not move.
“Pinkie, this is really important. If you can hear me, I need you to nod your head, just once,” the pink-maned mare said.
Pinkie nodded. Once.
“Ok, good. Can you talk?” she asked.
Pinkie nodded.
“Will you talk to me? Say your name?”
Pinkie shook her head.
The white pony did several more tests--though no matter what, Pinkie refused to speak. Finally, completing her last task, the nurse got to her hooves and turned towards Mr. and Mrs. Cake. “Well, physically she is okay, but for some reason she won’t speak. I can’t be sure without more tests, most of which can’t be done outside of the hospital, but if I had to guess, I’d say some sort of trauma.”
Mrs. Cake closed her eyes and leaned against her husband, who spoke next. “Thank you, Nurse Redheart, but what do we do?”
“Ideally, get her to the hospital. Something like this, if not treated fast enough, could become permanent.” Nurse Redheart shook her head. “To be honest, I don’t know if there is anything we could really do. I’ve seen patients like that before, and it’s almost like they just snapped.” She shook her head. “So sad to see it happen to one so young, and so full of potential.”
Mrs. Cake lost it then. Bursting into tears, she buried her head into her husband’s neck, once again leaving him to talk. “Thank you again. We’ll get her in now.”
Nurse Redheart nodded. “I’ll go tell them you’re coming, get the room and tests ready so you don’t have to wait. I’m sorry,” she added before slipping out the door.
Mr. Cake planted a reassuring kiss on the top of Cup’s head before turning to Pinkie. “Come on, Pinkie. We need to go to the hospital so they can make sure you are ok.” Much to everypony’s surprise, she didn’t move a single muscle, save those used to shake her head.
“Pinkie, please,” Mrs. Cake said through her tears. “We have to make sure you’ll be okay...”
Again, Pinkie just shook her head.
“Now that’s enough,” Mr. Cake said much more firmly than he ever had to the younger pony. “You need to go and get looked at. We’re worried about you, and the ponies at the hospital can make sure you are going to get better. Now get up, and get going.”
Another shake of her head sent across a very clear message.
“Pinkie! We took you in when you came to Ponyville. We gave you a home, a job, and our love. Now please, if that mattered at all, let us make sure you will be fine,” Mr. Cake blinked rapidly, holding back tears he didn’t want to show. “Please...”
Pinkie just shook her head.
“I... I’ll go get her friends. They will get her to go, I just know it!” Mrs. Cake cried, dashing out the door. Moments later, the front door of the shop slammed shut behind her. Mr. Cake just shook his head. He sat down next to Pinkie, pulling her into a hug.
“Please... just be okay...”
*.....*.....*.....*
Pinkie remembered that day. She remembered very clearly how all her friends had rushed into her room, had surrounded her with lies and deceit. They had filled her room, spouting false promises and condolences. They had said how much they cared, how worried they were. Yeah, worried they would never get to make fun of her on good conscience again.
After hours of their incessant lies, Pinkie had simply got up and walked over to her bed. She moved to the front of her bed, flopped on top of the coverless mattress, laid her head on her forehooves, and went to sleep. Her “friends” had apparently not left, aside from Applejack, who, Twilight informed Pinkie upon waking, had just stepped out to do her chores, and would come back as soon as she could.
One less to bother Pinkie for all she cared.
They had all stayed for days, pestering and talking to her. Trying to get her to play games, and make jokes, and make sweet treats to try and cheer her up. The whole while, Pinkie sat, and listened.
Two days later, a letter came, supposedly from Princess Celestia. Pinkie still had it, too. An elegant scroll, tied with brilliant red ribbon, sitting over on top of a desk.
Dear Pinkie Pie,
Twilight Sparkle wrote to me earlier today, informing me that one of her friends had contracted some strange disease of mind so that she refused to talk, or move, or anything of any consequence. Of course, I inquired to the friend, to enable me to lend aid where I could, and subsequently learned that it was you.
This concerns me probably more than is prudent for the ruler of an entire nation. More ponies suffer depression than I would like to admit within my borders, but your own affliction bothers me endlessly. Not only are you the Element of Laughter, the finest one in millenia, I might add, but a close friend to Twilight and, if I may be so bold, one I consider a friend as well.
So, of course, the news of your self muting and imprisonment brings me great distress. You, and all of your friends, have become an integral part of one another’s lives, and of my own, if only vicariously. Because of this, I beseech you, let your friends help. If there is something you require or desire, all you must do is whisper it to them and they shall help to the best of their ability, which is quite a lot, considering the company you keep.
On the same side of things, if it is something you require of my sister or I, hesitate not to ask, and we shall provide as much as possible. We only want to see you at the best you can be.
With Best Regards and Wishes,
Princess Celestia
Twilight had given the letter to Pinkie, then read it out loud when the pink pony refused to even open it. The words had slipped in one ear, straight out the other. Most likely more lies by another who just wanted to use her.
A few days later, the last of her “friends” had trickled out, offering promises to return whenever possible. Twilight said she had to tend to the library and Spike. Fluttershy, her animals. Rarity, her boutique and precious fabrics and fashion. The last to leave had been Rainbow Dash, leaving a full day after the others with an emotional, “I can’t stand to see you like this anymore.”
Good riddance. Nopony and nothing was there to bother her any longer. The only ones who remained were the Cakes. It was still their house after all, but they didn’t bother her any longer. Every day, either Mr. or Mrs. Cake brought her food, which she left alone until her instincts kicked in and forced her to eat, just long enough for Pinkie to beat the hunger down before returning to her spartan existence. Neither of them bothered her overly much, they may plead and beg, but Pinkie had learned to tune them out within the first half hour. No, it wasn’t until two weeks in that anything happened to draw her from her broken-record thoughts.
*....*.....*.....*
It had been three weeks total since Pinkie realized what life was really like. In that time, the biggest movement she had made was to get up and shut the half-open window as winter had begun to worm it’s incessant fingers through her bones. Sometime, somepony had put her blanket back on her bed, but Pinkie had just kicked it off again. She didn’t want the warmth.
She was sitting on her bed, in the exact same position she had been for days, when the door to her room slowly creaked open. At first, she was curious. After all, Mrs. Cake had already brought breakfast, taking away last night’s dinner in the process.
In walked two gray earth ponies, one ashen gray, the other a lighter gray, almost a light blue. Her sisters, Inkie and Blinkie. A little part of her, the part Pinkie was trying as hard as possible to suppress, noted that she hadn’t seen her sisters since she left the farm, but the rest of her did not care.
“Oh my goodness, Pinkie, is that really you?” the dark gray one asked. Inkie, her brain helpfully supplied. You used to like Inkie. Why don’t you talk to her?
Shut up brain, Pinkie replied.
The silence stretched for several uncomfortable minutes before Inkie spoke again. “Pinkie, what they said isn’t true, is it? You’re ok, right?”
“Please be okay...” Blinkie added from her place by the door.
Another few painful minutes passed before Inkie rushed over to her sister, grabbing Pinkie roughly by the shoulders and shaking her. “Pinkie, knock it off! This isn’t funny anymore!”
“No, no it isn’t,” Blinkie added. “But, maybe you shouldn’t shake her so much Inkie. You might hurt her...”
“I don’t care!” her sister shouted, “I just want her to be better!”
“Calm down,” Mr. Cake said, having slipped into the room quietly some moments before. “We want her better too, but hurting her isn’t going to get that accomplished.”
Inkie spun around, looking like she was going to argue for a few moments before shifting her eyes to the ground. “Yeah, I know... It’s just... this is what happened to Mom after Dad passed...”
Blinkie walked over and embraced Inkie, who had started sobbing uncontrollably. “Shh, it’s going to be fine. She will get better, I promise,” Blinkie whispered into the other mare’s ear.
“No it won’t!” Inkie exclaimed, pushing her sister away. “She’s going to end up just like Mom! She is just going to give up, and die, because she doesn’t bucking care!”
Mr. Cake raised his gaze from Pinkie. “No. It won’t happen like that.”
“You don’t know! You didn’t see your Mom waste away and die!” Inkie shouted, a few scant inches from Mr. Cake’s face. “You don’t know how bad it ends up, because you haven’t seen it! You don’t know how much it hurts watching them slowly die because they just don’t care!”
“No, not Pinkie. Her friends won’t let it happen. I won’t let it happen,” came the reply from the stallion.
While the other two argued, Blinkie slipped over to sit next to her usually-pink sister. She took a spot down on the ground next to her, but not too close. “It’s ok. I understand,” she said in a soft voice, though none but Pinkie and herself heard it.
Pinkie slowly turned to look at her sister with a dead expression.
“I know how much it hurts. I have days like this too.” Blinkie closed her eyes slowly. “You know what I do?”
Pinkie shook her head.
“I sit, maybe a day, maybe two, then I get back up and go for it. You can’t let things keep you down, least of all you, Pinkie. Nothing would have been the same on the farm without you being, well, you.” Blinkie put a hoof on Pinkie’s withers. “You’ve had your day or two. It’s time to get up and get back out there.”
Pinkie looked down at the ground. For a moment, Blinkie let her hopes raise slightly, until Pinkie looked back up and shook her head, just once.
“Come on, sis. We lost Dad, then Mom. I think Inkie will come undone if we lose you too,” Blinkie said with a teary voice.
“Shut up!” Inkie was saying. “Its probably your fault in the first place!”
“M-My fault!” Mr. Cake spluttered. “How is it my fault!”
“I... I don’t know! But I’m positive there is something you could have done to help her! What have you done? Sat there and tried to feed her? Called a nurse and her friends? Nothing! That’s what you’ve done, nothing!” Inkie’s eyes were clouded with tears, the fur underneath streaked with her sadness.
Mr. Cake noticed this, and took a step forward, folding the smaller mare in a powerful hug. “Calm down. Yelling at me isn’t going to help anything.”
Much to Mr. Cake’s surprise, Inkie did not pull away as he had anticipated. Instead, she buried her head in the fur on his neck and finally let go, filling the room with her deep sobs. As soon as it became apparent that Pinkie wasn’t going to do anything, Blinkie got up and, after giving her pink sister a brief hug, joined Mr. Cake and Inkie.
Through it all, Pinkie watched with naught but a blank expression on her face.
*.....*.....*.....*
Back in the present, Pinkie twitched. An itch, one just out of reach had sprung up on top of her head. No, not even so much as a twitch, but more of a spasm, a slight tremor in a muscle somewhere on the very crown of her being.
“Why do you sit here?” a voice asked from behind Pinkie.
The pink pony slowly turned around, only to find herself muzzle to muzzle with... herself?
“Yup, it’s me! Or... you. Us...?”
Why are you here? Pinkie asked.
“Because you are being all ‘mneh’ and not being all ‘WHEE!’”
What’s there to be “WHEE!” about? Everypony hates me, and those that don’t just want to use me.
“That’s silly. Why would you think that?”
What else would I think? You heard just as well as I did, the girls hate me. Inkie and Blinkie and Mr. Cake and Mrs. Cake have all given up on me. What’s to stop me from giving up on myself?
“Me, silly!”
You don’t exist. You’re just a part of my mind, probably the part that makes me eat when I get too hungry; the part dedicated to trapping me here.
“No, I’m you! Well, the you that used to be you, before you went all sad.”
You don’t matter. Just go and leave me so I can finally be at peace.
“You are at peace, but you could be at peace at a party! With the girls, and all our other friends, having cake and punch and dancing and laughing and playing, and--”
New-Pinkie cut Old-Pinkie off with a hoof. Quiet. That isn’t me anymore.
Old-Pinkie spit out the hoof. “Of course it is, or I wouldn’t be here. We just need to get you up and moving again. Maybe make a cake, or a pie.” Old-Pinkie gasped. “Or we could try to make the cake-pie! That would be fun, right?”
No.
Old-Pinkie stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. “Come on, sure it would! We could make a cake, with pie filling! Or maybe make a pie with icing on top. The possibilities are endless!”
It’s not fun. Leave me alone.
“Silly, I’m not going to do that. How would leaving you alone get you back to being you?”
It won’t, but it’ll give me some peace and quiet! Just go, go and leave, like all the others.
“I’m not going to go,” Old-Pinkie said, plopping herself down right in front of New-Pinkie. Her face took on a much more serious expression. “Now listen here, missy. Let’s be serious for a moment.”
I’m always serious, now.
“No, you’re not serious, you’re nothing. You say nothing, you do nothing, you think nothing. I know that it hurts, and I know that it makes you cold and empty inside, but you need to get up and live! Go talk to the girls. I bet you ten bits that you totally misheard, or misunderstood what they said.”
It’s very difficult to misinterpret all I--we--heard.
“You never know. Maybe you heard the tail end of a discussion not about you, or the part you missed might have put it in a different light.”
Shut up and leave me alone, New-Pinkie said, turning from her counterpart. Much to her dismay, Old-Pinkie just got up and walked around to plant herself right in front of New-Pinkie once again.
“Come on, we need to get out of this rut. There’s so much for us to do, so much for us to see, so many ponies to meet and befriend and help.”
They don’t want my help, they want to use me. For my Element, for my unconditional friendship.
“That’s not true!”
Yes it is, and you know it. No one cares for us. It’s like life on the farm, or on the road before coming to Ponyville.
“But remember all the good times here! Remember when you met Rarity, and talked her ears off for hours asking about anything and everything high-class and fancy? Or how about Rainbow, when she turned up at one of your parties and said it was the most fun she had in ages?"
Yeah, but--
“How about Fluttershy, when you brought her Gummy when he lost his only tooth? How afraid she was, but how she warmed up to you so quickly? Or, remember Applejack, when she came to negotiate about apple sales to Sugarcube Corner, and ended up teaching you how to make that perfect pie crust you still use?”
Well, yeah, but--
“Or even Mr. and Mrs. Cake, who took you in and called you their own, gave you a dry place to sleep and warm food to eat, which seemed like a miracle after months on the road. What about Pound and Pumpkin Cake? What will they do without Auntie Pinkie?”
They’ll be fine. They will all be fine without me. All I have to do is slip away, and it won’t matter anymore. A dark and serene smile slipped across New-Pinkie’s lips.
“No! Don’t talk like that! Your are not allowed to talk like that!” To reinforce her point, Old-Pinkie jumped up to her hooves and loomed over New-Pinkie.
You can’t stop me. You aren’t even real.
“Yes I can stop you. I can make you eat, I can make you live! You can’t give up, Pinkie, you can’t just leave everyone.”
Yes I can.
“No, because I won’t let you.”
Just try to stop me.
*.....*.....*.....*
Mr. and Mrs. Cake were sitting below, in the back room of Sugarcube Corner, trying, in vain, to balance their books, and do the things they had to to keep their shop running, when a shout came from above.
“No! Just leave me alone!”
Both mare and stallion looked at each other, the same thought on both of their minds. “Pinkie.”
They both rushed up the stairs, forcefully shoving the door open, just to reel back in shock at the sight before them. In the middle of the room, her favorite spot, was Pinkie, though not a Pinkie either of them had ever seen before. Her mane was straight, as it had been, but instead of a vibrant pink it was ashy gray, the color slowly draining from the top of her ears, down her mane and coat, to her tail, where it ceased to be.
What was even worse, however, was the pony herself. She was lying on the ground, bashing her head against the floor, and her hooves against her head, constantly screaming, “leave me alone! Go away and leave me to die!” The only words she had spoken in a month.
Without thinking, Mr. Cake forcibly picked Pinkie up, slinging the still struggling mare over his back. “Run ahead to the hospital, hun. We’re checking Pinkie in.” His wife rushed ahead, holding the door to allow the encumbered stallion to carry his only daughter out of the building.
A strange procession they made through town: a mare, the usually upbeat, but proper, Mrs. Cake rushing ahead, splitting crowds the for stallion carrying a very gray pony shouting at the top of her lungs, begging for death.
Nurse Redheart and two stallions with a bed met them at the door to the hospital. “Get her on the gurney,” the white mare directed her aids, who quickly removed Pinkie from Mr. Cake, strapping her down to the wheeled bed before guiding it inside. “Look, I want to extend our most sincere--”
“Save it,” growled Mr. Cake. “Just... just promise us she will be taken care of.”
Nurse Redheart nodded. “Of course. We will do everything we can.”
“Can... can we visit her?” Mrs. Cake asked.
“Not for a few days, but I will personally come down to Sugarcube Corner when you can,” Nurse Redheart replied.
“Thank you,” Mrs. Cake said, before turning to her husband. “Come on, Carrot. Let’s get back home...” Though he looked like he wanted to argue, but, with a massive sigh, Mr. Cake turned around and began the long trek back through town, wife at his side.
“Wait!” came the loud cry from behind them, causing the couple to turn to see the group of mares rushing towards them, purple unicorn at the head.
“Yes?” Mrs. Cake asked as the group drew closer.
“Where... where is Pinkie?” Twilight Sparkle asked through her gasping breaths. “We heard something terrible happened to her.”
“Yeah, you could say that,” Mr. Cake said with a bite to his voice. “I think she finally lost it. We had to bring her here, we just can’t take care of her anymore. We don’t have the expertise.”
“What do you mean, ‘didn’t have the expertise?’” Rainbow Dash jumped forward, wings spread to make her seem bigger. “You mean to tell us that you abandoned our friend because you couldn’t take it!”
“Rainbow, calm down,” came Applejack’s soothing voice from behind the cyan wings. “Ah don’t think that’s what they meant t’all.” An orange head devoid of a horn poked it’s way past the feathery wall. “Is it?”
“Of course not!” Mrs. Cake said. “We love Pinkie like a daughter. You... you didn’t see her. It’s better for her here.”
“Pfft, I doubt that. Nowhere is worse for Pinkie than in a stupid-- mmmff.” Rainbow was cut off by a white hoof stuck in her mouth.
“Ugh, I hope you brush your teeth, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity said, quickly withdrawing her hoof and turning to the Cakes. “But I do agree with her. Pinkie Pie may have her moments, but a place like this would be like living torture for the poor dear.”
“You know what? If you don’t believe us, you can go talk to Nurse Redheart, and go see for yourself, but I... I just want to go home and sleep,” Mr. Cake said, cutting off his wife’s pending reply. “Good day, girls.” With that, he turned and walked off without a backwards glance.
“Please forgive Carrot. Its been a hard month on both of us, but I think he took it hardest. Come in tomorrow, I’m sure he will be fine. Have a nice day, girls.” Mrs. Cake, having apologized for her husband, quickly took off after him, barely escaping before the curious crowd from Ponyville started filtering through the streets.
“Well, girls, what do you say?” Twilight asked. “Should we go look at Pinkie?”
“What... what if she doesn’t want to see us? What if she overheard us...” Fluttershy whispered from her position just behind the others.
“Then we’ll just have to explain,” Rainbow said before walking towards the door. After a moment, she turned around, noticing her lack of followers. “Well? What are you all waiting for?” When she began walking again, she was being shadowed by three ponies with varying degrees of nervousness, and Fluttershy.
“We want to see Pinkie Pie,” Rainbow Dash said, bursting through the doors and rushing up to the Nurse’s Station.
“Sorry miss,” Nurse Redheart said, “Pinkie Pie is not cleared for visitors right now.”
“Don’t care. Let us in anyway,” came the belligerent reply, and assorted shaking heads behind her.
“Dash, if you please,” Twilight said, walking up and pushing the pegasus aside. “My name is Twilight Sparkle. I am doing research for an assignment from Princess Celestia, and I need to see Pinkie, right now. My friends too, if that wouldn’t be too much.”
Nurse Redheart’s eyes bulged at the name of the Princess. “O-Of course, Miss Sparkle. Please, this way.”
*.....*.....*.....*
Inside a room of the hospital, secluded from all the others behind thick walls and a locked door, a pony was lying on the bed, strapped down tight. Pinkie Pie looked around. She saw the brightly-colored walls, the dark, heavy door locking her off from the world. She turned her head, looking out the window, thick with bars, and nodded. She was locked tight, unable to leave, and yet she didn’t care.
The door slowly creaked open. “Miss Pinkie Pie?” asked a nurse with a voice like honey. “You have visitors. Do you want to see them?”
Silence echoed loudly from the room. “I suppose it’ll be fine, Miss Sparkle. Please, go on in. Let us know if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” said a familiar voice before the owner tip-hooved into the room, followed by a few others. “Pinkie?” Twilight Sparkle asked, stopping a couple feet from the bed and motioning for the others to fall in beside her, forming a ring around the bed.
Pinkie looked over at the purple unicorn with the same empty expression she always had.
“Pinkie, I... we need to know. This... all of this, why?” Twilight asked, to various nods from the others.
Pinkie shook her head sadly, like one who had been asked an obviously stupid question.
“Um, if I may...” Fluttershy said, nodding towards Pinkie. After a moment of indecision, Twilight nodded. “Um, Pinkie, did you stop because of... us...?”
Pinkie nodded once.
“Why!?” Rainbow shouted. “What the buck did we do to you!?”
“Rainbow, please don’t yell at her...” Fluttershy said, but was drowned out by the others all saying basically the exact same thing.
“Rainbow Dash, have some decency! It is not polite to yell in a hospital, and at one’s friend, no less.”
“Rainbow, calm down! Shouting isn’t going to help anything.”
“Sugarcube, ya just need t’ relax.”
Pinkie squirmed, shaking the bed, which quickly caused silence to reign once again.
“I think I have an idea, girls. I don’t really want to have to do this, but it is the only thing I can think of.” Twilight stepped forward, and pressed her horn to Pinkie’s head. After a moment, she pulled back, horn aglow with vibrant pink energy. With great effort, she threw her head towards a blank wall, and let go.
The wall became completely transparent, showing building whizzing past in a disjointed pattern. Thoughts mixed with spoken voices and flowed through the mind of the friends gathered, until it all sharpened into focus. The viewpoint stopped in an alley, near town square, and peeked out just enough to show five friends arranged in a circle, talking.
“I don’t know about you girls, but I have grown quite weary of Pinkie lately. She is just so overbearing at times, it’s exhausting. I know she means well, but would it be too much to ask for her to tone it down a little?”
“I know! It’s like she almost goes out of her way to be annoying. Sometimes I wonder what the hay is up with her.”
“Ah know whatch’all mean. The other day, she completely trampled mah saplings, just to give me a hug. Ah know that she is our friend ‘n all, but she can be a hooffull at times.”
“Um, yesterday, she scared a bunch of my animal friends when she used her megaphone to say hi to me. It scared me so badly, I almost jumped out of my fur...”
“I have read some books lately, mostly pertaining to the study of the brain and how it works. I think Pinkie suffers from Bipolar Disorder, and obviously a severe case of ADHD. According to the books I read, she could also have some sort of mental retardation as well. The way she can be so foalish just makes me believe it more.”
After a few moments, Twilight ended the spell. The five mares exchanged glances over the pony strapped to the bed, before turning their attention back to Pinkie. “Listen, Pinkie--” Twilight started before being cut off by Pinkie shaking her head.
With much wiggling and shaking, she managed to free one pink hoof, using it to point at the door.
“Come on, Pinks, just let us explain!” Rainbow said, though her voice shook and she looked like she wanted to bolt.
Pinkie shook her head.
“Pinkie Pie, be serious now. All if this is because of some silly misunderstanding. Just let us explain, and we can put it all behind us.” Rarity tried next, just to be met by the same reply.
“Come on girls,” Twilight said. “Might as well just go. Because, honestly, what do you say to a pony who doesn’t want to listen?”
“Oh, but we can’t just give up on her! That wouldn’t be good at all,” Fluttershy said, but nopony listened. The yellow pegasus looked back at her friend for a moment, whispering, “I’m sorry,” before following the others out.
Just as Pinkie was about to lie back and try to go to sleep, she walked in through the door. “Well, I hope you’re happy,” Old-Pinkie said. “They came, offering to explain everything, offering to take you back in, and make everything better, and you turned them away like a grumpy-pants.”
They didn’t care. Good riddance, I say.
“Now that isn’t a very Pinkie thing to say, now is it? Why don’t you call them back, they can’t have gone far.”
I don’t care to have them in here. I don’t even care to be here, but if I have to be, I’ll do it on my terms. Now all I have to get rid of is you, and I can finally be at peace.
“But what good is peace, if there’s nopony to spend it with?”
I don’t need them, just as they don’t need me.
“If they didn’t need you, they wouldn’t have come to see you.”
If they needed me, they wouldn't have left.
“Well you sent them away, silly. What kind of friend would tread on another friend’s hooves?”
I don’t know. Why don’t you go ask them?
Old-Pinkie’s ears drooped. “That isn’t very nice. Why do you want to get rid of me so bad? I’m you.”
No, you used to be me. Now, you are just a useless piece of the past, a past I would rather leave behind, and quickly. You’re just a stupid, annoying, useless piece of a pony, able to do nothing but throw parties and bake things. You have no backbone, no drive to do anything worthwhile.
“Well.. neither do you! You’re just lying here like a sad sack.” As much as she was trying to fight it, Old-Pinkie’s mane was slowly losing definition.
Because I don’t care. I put everything I was into my friends, and they threw it back. The just sat there and made fun of me behind my back; hated everything I tried to do to be friendly. What is there to do for ponies who hate you?
“They... they don’t hate you...”
Well, it certainly sounded like it. And even after, they all left me, saying they would come back, but never did. They don’t matter, and neither do you.
“You... you don’t mean that...” Old-Pinkie said, blinking back tears, mane and tail slowly, but certainly, deflating. It was only a matter of time now.
New-Pinkie pushed forward. Yes I do. You matter just as much as they do, so walk out and follow them. Go away, and leave me in peace.
Old-Pinkie reached up, tossing a bit of her glass-straight mane, and wiped away a tear. “Fine! I hope you’re proud of yourself!” she said, before walking through the door.
Pinkie Pie lie back on the barely comfortable bed, in the bright room, and looked out the barred window. She was alone now, and locked in place, unable to move or do anything, but she didn’t care.
She was free.