• • • • Sugarcube Corner • • • •
Pinkie sat there watching the cupcakes bake, with a fervor only she could have. As she watched the cupcakes rise in their pan, she was thinking about the life of a cupcake and how similar it was to that of a pony's. In general, the life of a cupcake was a rather short one. Somepony mixed together the ingredients, put it all into a pan, and threw it into the oven. After they are done cooking, they get all dressed up and get ready to be eaten. The life of a pony was not much more complicated in her eyes. A pony was made when, well Pinkie was not sure how foals were made. She had never given it much thought before, and did not really think it mattered. Anyways, once the foal was made, it went into a momma’s tummy where it sat like a cupcake in an oven, waiting for its time to come out. After that, the little foal went through their life, learning and growing, kinda like a cupcake that is getting decorated. Once the little pony is all grown up and gets old, the pony goes into a sleep that they will never wake up from. The only pony Pinkie knew who went into that kind of sleep had been Twilight.
Twilight. That was a name that stirred many very painful memories for Pinkie. Twilight had been one of Pinkie’s very bestest friends, and when she was gone it left her feeling as if a little piece of who she was went missing. She still threw everypony a lot of parties, but they felt empty to Pinkie. Those parties just didn’t feel right. They didn’t feel right because parties were supposed to make everypony smile and be happy, but the parties didn’t make Pinkie happy anymore. Everytime she threw a party, it reminded her of the first party she threw Twilight when she first arrived in Ponyville.
“Ding”
Oh, she forgot that she had been making cupcakes, and should have known better than to start thinking about Twilight. Such thoughts always made her feel down and get lost in her own thoughts. Baking cupcakes did not even seem that fun to her anymore. It felt like a useless talent now. Her useless talent couldn’t save Twilight when she had needed her the most. Pinkie idly noticed that her mane had started to go limp, but by this point she ignored it.
“My useless talent couldn’t save my friend when she needed me most!” Pinkie screamed at nopony in particular. “Why did she have to die?” Pinkie sobbed, quieting down.
The Cakes heard the screaming and the crying from the main counter of the store. Mrs. Cake came back to try and console Pinkie in her grief.
“Pinkie dear, are you alright?” Asked Mrs. Cake, with sympathetic eyes.
“No, why did she have to die?” Pinkie sniffled, while wiping away a tear with a forehoof.
“Nopony knows why some ponies die, and some live. You just have to learn to accept it and try and move on in your life.” Mrs. Cake said soothingly. “Why don’t you go on to your room upstairs until you feel comfortable with coming back down to the main room.”
“Mrs. Cake, one last thing. Please don’t die.”
The request shook the poor Mrs. Cake to her bones. Pinkie never used the word die, death, or nay word like that before. She did not know whether she should be worried about Pinkie, or if this meant that Pinkie was slowly getting over it.
As she climbed the stairs to her room, Pinkie thought of her friends. They had not talked very much, ever since Twilight’s death. Death, that was an interesting word, certainly a word that Pinkie had never thought of using before. It had an air of finality that Pinkie did not like. She had always been able to do as she pleased, and change her mind on a whim. She did not like anything that was set in stone. It went against her nature. Anyways, they had not talked much since Twilight’s passing because, well, they each thought they were to blame for it. At least that is what Pinkie thought her friends believed. She took this guess, because that was exactly how she had been feeling.
When she reached the top of the stairs, she stopped a second to glance out of the window on the landing. She saw the strangest sight. It looked like Spike had crashed into Big Mac. As Pinkie watched, she saw them talk for a bit, then saw Spike start shouting at Big Mac. She turned her head from the scene. A couple of thoughts ran through her mind, when she looked away. The first thought that had flickered across her mind was how much she hated fighting. She never could understand why everypony couldn’t just get along. The other thoughts that went through her mind were those of Spike.
She had not talked to Spike, since the day of Twilight’s funeral. She was afraid that Spike would hate her, after what she had done to poor Twilight. Once or twice, she had thought about trying to go to Spike to try and see if she could cheer him up. She had even gone as far as hiding in one of the flowerpots in the library, getting ready to jump out at him, but had heard him start crying out for Twilight. Hearing this, she decided that she should probably stay hidden until he was away, so she could leave unnoticed. She had not tried to go near him since that incident.
She walked the last part of the trip to her room wondering what Big Mac and Spike had been fighting about. She approached the door to her room and nudged it open. The sight that lay before her matched her mood perfectly. The decorations had all been torn down, and her various partying devices were covered in dust. Even her beloved party cannon was filled with cobwebs. She took in the scene that was before her, letting out a sigh as she climbed in bed. She was going to take the rest of the day off, she decided. So she sat there in her bed for a bit, pondering her life, before laying her head on down, and waited for the realm of sleep to take her.
• • • • Sometime late at night • • • •
Pinkie was torn from her nightmare-ridden sleep by a bright green flash. She silently thanked whatever it was for freeing her from her nightmares of Twilight. Though, what she saw was something that she had never expected to see again. Before her was a letter. It wasn't that she never expected to see a letter, it was the manner that the letter had arrived that took her by surprise. Spike had sent it. What could have been so urgent that Spike needed to send her a letter now? Did it have to do with his fight with big mac earlier? Deciding that she was going to get nowhere with questions, she began to open up the letter.
As her eyes roamed over the expanse of words on the parchment, a beam lit up her face. She could not remember the last time she had felt so happy.