//------------------------------// // Ch7: Don't Cry, Pinkie Pie // Story: AppleCakes // by Agalakachikaboum //------------------------------// “CLOUDEE!” Applejack screamed as she ran to Apple Pie’s house. A.P. lived separately from the Apple Family, because she liked having her very own kitchen. She built her very own house along with Applejack and Big McIntosh, and Sprinkle, who was a member of the Apple Family in that time. Her small round house was chocolate brown and her rooftop was yellowish-brown. Surprisingly, she had one of the smallest houses in Ponyville, yet her house was in a vast meadow and had a lot of free space all around it, so it was very easy to distinguish. As Applejack bumped into the house, they found out only black in the first room. She only had three rooms: the living room, the kitchen and the bedroom, and a toilet attached next to the kitchen. She doesn’t care much about the small space in her house, since she passes most time in Applejack’s farm house. So, if she wasn’t in the living room: she was either in the kitchen or in her bedroom. They went in the second possibility, where Apple Pie passes most of her time, the kitchen. Though, no sign of her there either. Each of the five mares did take a sneak peek in the kitchen to see any sign of the special ingredient. But that one wasn’t visible either. They went back to the living room in a hurry and ran up to the bedroom, last possibility. As they approached the door, they heard somepony crying. Rainbow Dash was the fastest, so the first one to reach the door, along with Applejack. “Hello?” Twilight asked in the back. There was somebody obviously somebody crying in the room: the echoes filled everywhere. Those tears didn’t come from Apple Pie, or at least as thought Applejack as she tried to find a light switch. They seemed more… high-pitched. The orange mare’s hoof bumbed into something hanging on the wall, and as she pressed the button the single light in the bedroom went on. The five mares remained petrified by who they saw: Pinkie Pie. -- Pinkie continued crying for a while, not even noticing their arrival. “They didn’t even throw a party for me!” she sobbed. “They know I loooove parties though, don’t they?” Apple Pie was next to her, her wing spread open to cover the pink mare’s back. Pinkie was lying on her shoulder, and her pink mane was half-straight, half-curly. Nobody has even seen her like that yet. “They probably didn’t have time to,” tried to cheer up Apple Pie. “But don’t worry Pink, they are all happy that you came back…” she looked up and noticed the five statues who were observing the situation. “…Right?” she asked, a weak smile trying to grow on her face. But the mares remained silent. Pinkie looked up as well, and she was first surprised to see the five mares. Then, the first thing she thought was, did they truly make a party for me? So she tried to smile and ask, “Are you happy I came back?” Another silence. A soft wind blew and let the last curls in Pinkie’s hair disappear. Her hair was completely straight, and touching the rusty floor. Her ears were down, her eyes were filled with tears and some occasionally dropped down. Her expression was pitiful, beaten down. She was mutually begging for somebody to love. ”I told you,” she sniffed, starting to cry again. “They aren’t my friends anymore. They don’t like me. Nobody likes me…” Apple Pie tried to look in her eyes as she placed her hoof on the crying mare’s neck. “Hey, Ae like you, Pink…” she smiled. Pinkie looked at her for a moment, a long moment. The world stopped moving, the group remained petrified. Then, a movement shook everything up: a last tear spread down Pinkie’s face as she got up, moved back from A.P.’s cocoon and going towards the window. She looked back at Apple Pie and the other mares, her expression now showing a more mean aspect. She looked disappointed. “A party is boring if there’s only two ponies,” she said in a regretful voice before opening the window and flowing away in the sunset night.