//------------------------------//
// once you did notice it, you couldn't forget it. 
// Story: Broken Glass 
// by UndercoverPanda14 
//------------------------------//

Early spring, the rain was pouring and forming large puddles across Ponyville. There were no ponies outdoors roaming the town, instead, they stayed in front of the fire to keep warm and cozy. 
This was all except Pinkie, who cantered through the puddles on her way to Sugar Cube Corner. She had come from the library, to see Twilight, though it had begun to rain just as she had left - Typical. The mare reached the shop cold and wet. Mrs Cake was behind the counter, as usual, while Mr Cake brought out the new sugary treats for display. 
'Pinkie, we have something to tell you.' Said Mrs Cake, wearing a mother like smile on her plump little face. 
Pinkie looked up at her, straight into those light magenta eyes that completed her look.
'Is something wrong?'
Mrs Cake shook her head and chuckled. 'No, Pinkie, me and Mr Cake are going away to Canterlot for a week to help make all the food for the festival.' She explained, as Mr Cake brought out a suitcase.
'We're leaving the shop to you, just until Sunday.' Mr Cake said.
Pinkie smiled, a smile of excitement was set on her face after she  had heard the news.
'You wont be disappointed!'
Then, to a surprise, they brought out a few suitcases and wheeled them out the door.
'See you in a week, and take good care of the shop.' The door closed behind them, without another sound to be heard - and pinkie was alone..

Despite being trusted to run the shop, Pinkie trotted upstairs and into her room. She saw the curtains across her window, and slid them open. It was still raining, but Ponyville, as usual, was beautiful to her. The town was empty, but then again, who would want to be outside enjoying this weather? But it didn't matter to Pinkie, she loved every part of Ponyville, rainy days and sunny. She opened the window to behold the better view.

The time seemed to fly past as fast as light. It had become dark and gloomy outside, and had been decided that Pinkie should go to bed. She knew she had a long day taking over the shop tomorrow, so pulled the cover over herself. She fell asleep fast, as usual. 
Moonlight oozed through the window without the closed curtains. It had also been forgotten, for Pinkie to close the window and a draft blew in, swaying the curtains. 
The night was not silent, the wind howled through the branches of tree's and a wolf's howl could have been heard from miles away. But this did not awaken Pinkie, she was sleeping silently. These noises had not effected her slumber, it was something else that woke her.
She bolted upright in her bed, unsure of what she had heard that had woken her, but it did wake her, and alerted her. Then, she heard the same noise, remembering that it was that same noise that had been heard in her dreams. It was the scratching against glass, like chalk against a blackboard. But this noise had bloomed from the night's natural noises, and stiffened every other sound Pinkie heard as it scratched.
She saw the window, opened and letting in a cold draft. Her hooves touched the floorboards of her room, as she pushed herself up. She walked over to it slowly, and gripped onto it as she tugged it down. It was stiff, but gave way and dropped.
By now, she had expected the scratching noise to have been coming from outside, and had soon forgotten about it as she tucked herself back in. 

The morning dawned, letting sunshine flow in through the window and shine on a lump in the bed cover. Underneath, laid Pinkie, dazed and barely awake, but all the same, awake. She pushed the covers off her, wincing at the sudden light. She stretched her hooves above her head. Then looking around the room. Last nights dream still echoed in her mind. Something about a scratching noise? She couldn't clearly remember, and really couldn't care less.
She walked over to the mirror on top of her dresser and stared at her reflection, she didn't look the best - as she usually didn't in the morning. The only thing she couldn't explain in her reflection was the scars and cuts across it's neck, but as she looked at her own, it was clear of scars or cuts. Her eyes had lost contact with the reflection, and widened abruptly. She saw it, and last night became clear. It was one of those things, that you wouldn't really look at, until you noticed it, and once you did notice it, you couldn't forget it...

Last night, someone or something had scratched into her mirror the very words 'Over here'...