(Here's the next chapter of Rising Sun, here for your reading pleasure.)
Pinkie just leans into you, and you wrap a hoof around her. You decide that you’ll let her take her time. She doesn’t seem to be used to emotional output of this variety. She begins to cry and you let her. She needs to have some time to get out of her system whatever it is that she’s been bottling up. It’s not healthy for her, or anyone, to hold in their emotions.
“How do you do it?” Pinkie finally speaks, and you look down at her. Her blue eyes are filled with tears, and she holds your gaze. “How do you keep going with all that you’ve done? You are always so happy, and carefree, and yet you’ve seen so much in your life. You’ve done so much, good and bad, and now you just sit here, and listen to me cry my heart out to you. How do you manage to not be overwhelmed by emotions?” Her tears are flowing freely, and you notice her hair lose its poofiness.
You move a hoof to her cheek, and you wipe away a tear. She holds your hoof against her cheek, though, and you let her. “Please, Storm. I need to know. I have so much anger and sadness inside me, and I don’t know how to let it out.” Her voice is slowly changing to reflect her appearance. “I just don’t know how I can be who everypony expects me to be when I have all this inside.”
“Pinkie, what is it that you have bottled up?” You pull your hoof from her cheek. “What happened that has you so upset?”
“I got a letter from home. I haven’t seen my parents in years, and just a couple of days ago I got a letter from them.” You wait for her to continue, but she isn’t forthcoming.
“Pinkie, start from the beginning.” She sniffles a bit, and then she looks away from you. Her hair finally falls straight down, and her coat somehow seems to lose its luster. Her voice has changed as well. The normal happy voice is replaced by one consumed by sadness.
“It all started on the rock farm. Everyday was the same. The same gray stones. The same gray everything. It was a day like any other…
Twelve Years Ago
Pinkie’s Perspective
Pinkie had just finished moving the days harvest to the barn for storage. She couldn’t stand the rock farm, but it was her home, so she stayed there. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to leave, but she couldn’t bear the thought of running away from home. As she exited the barn, to pick up the last few stones of the harvest a massive explosion was heard. Pinkie looked up to the sky to see the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
There were several expanding rainbows shooting across the sky. The colors were amazing, and Pinkie had never before seen such beauty. It was at that moment that Pinkie had her first revelation. She needed to add color to her world. There was so much gray in her life, and she just needed to add some color to it. A plan quickly formulated in her mind, and she began her preparations as soon as she could.
She decorated the entire barn with all the most beautiful decorations she could find. Streamers, balloons, confetti, everything she could think of she had added to the barn. As she expected, her parents and sister soon came to the barn, as they always did, to check on the harvest. The surprise on their faces brought a joy to Pinkie that she had never known before. Her heart leapt at the happiness she saw on their faces.
It was the first party Pinkie had ever thrown, and in her opinion, it was probably the best she had ever done. It wasn’t the best decoration, or the best occasion, but it was the best reason. She had finally discovered who she was. Her cutie mark had appeared, and for the first time in her life she was truly happy.
All good things come to an end, though, and the party did just that. It was a reluctant end, but an end nonetheless. That night Pinkie had sweet dreams for the first time in her life. Dreams of parties, and dreams of hope.
Sadly, the dreary atmosphere of the farm drained all the happiness from her parents. The next morning they explicitly forbade Pinkie from throwing another party, claiming that it was wasteful, and frivolous. Pinkie’s heart broke. She knew who she was, and yet her parents were going to deny her that, on the grounds that it was wasteful
She couldn’t accept it, so she began to plan a new party. One that would show them just how great a party could be. She spent weeks planning it, and even longer gathering the supplies. Her excitement grew daily as she planned the party. It was for naught, though.
Just a day before Pinkie intended to throw the party her father found the party supplies. The argument that followed scarred Pinkie. She said things to her parents that hurt them deeply. By the end of the argument, Pinkie had finally had enough. With tears streaming down her face she ran away. She ran for hours, not once looking back. Not even when she finally collapsed from exhaustion did she spare a thought for what she was leaving. The only thing that was in her mind was a crushing despair.
Her parents wouldn’t accept who she was, and that was something that she could never run away from. No matter how far she ran, no matter how happy she made others, there would always be that commanding voice telling her that she wasn’t spending her life the right way. She was being wasteful. She wasn’t being a productive member of society. She was wasting her life.
She spent weeks of her life running from home. One day, though, she found Ponyville. Everypony in Ponyville was happy, and it made Pinkie happier to be amongst them all. Even though she was new to town they ponies of Ponyville made her feel welcome. Without anyplace to stay, though, Pinkie was forced to live on the streets. She was forced to do things nopony would ever think to do.
For almost two weeks Pinkie lived like that. Until one day she was found by Mr. and Mrs. Cake. They took her into their home, and gave her a warm bed, and a roof over her head.
Pinkie was nervous at first. She didn’t know anypony around town, so she decided to start introducing herself to everypony she met. Before long she had made tons of friends. After just a couple months everypony in Ponyville knew Pinkie.
Then, four months after Pinkie arrived in Ponyville another newcomer came to town. Pinkie greeted him warmly, and gave him a tour of the town. In order to welcome him fully to the town she decided to throw him a small party. That was the first Welcome-to-Ponyville party Pinkie ever threw. It wasn’t the last, but it was probably the smallest.
Present
“… But with every party I throw there is a gnawing doubt in my chest. I still hear my father telling me that I’m wasting my life.”
Pinkie’s story was hard to listen to, but you knew that you had to do it. Not only for her, but so that you could understand this mare better. You wrapped both hooves around her, and you gave her a hug.
“I’m so sorry, Pinkie.” She didn’t resist the hug, and she didn’t reciprocate either. She just sat there, unmoving. “Pinkie, listen to me.” You released her, and turned her face to look at you. “That part of your life is over. You need to move beyond what your father said, and look to the future.”
“How?”
“Pinkie, I’ve had to live with so much sadness in my life. I had to accept that my father died when I was less than ten years old. My grandmother died when I was still in high school. My girlfriend died less than a month before I graduated high school. I don’t just deny that these things happened. I mourn for a while, or I do something to ease the pain. But, Pinkie, you can’t just run from your problems.”
“But how? You are so normal, so happy. Applejack told me about how you act around her. You are so calm, and you don’t seem to have any issues with anything. How do you do it?”
You turn her entire body to face you, and you hold her face so that she’s looking right at you. She tries to squirm from your grasp, but you hold her steady. “Pinkie, I need you to listen to me.” She stops squirming, and you lower your hooves. “Pinkie, I don’t always come to terms with what I do. Back when I was a human I did some things that I can’t accept. I know I did them, and I know that when my time comes I’m going to have to live with those choices. I killed a person, Pinkie. I looked him in the eyes, and I killed him.”
Pinkie’s eyes go wide with this news. “That’s something that I live with everyday. But I don’t let it define my life. I think about it from time to time, but I don’t let it rule my life. You need to accept what happened to you in the past, and move on. Pinkie, he’s your father, and he only wants what’s best for you. He may have said hurtful things, but it was because he wanted to protect you.”
“I know.”
“Then forgive him, Pinkie. Living a life with regrets, and grudges, is a life lost. You need to go home, your real home, and talk with him.”
“Would you come with me?”
“Yes, Pinkie. I’ll go with you. We can go anytime you want to go.” Pinkie starts to relax some, and she leans into you again.
“I’m feeling tired, now. Could you play me a song to help me get to sleep?” Her voice is regaining some of its previous tone, but it is a long way off. You maneuver Pinkie onto your back, and you bring her upstairs. With the utmost care you place Pinkie onto your bed. She pulls the covers over herself, and she looks at you as you stand next to her.
“Something soft. Soft, and sad. I want you to express yourself through the music you play.” You nod, and head to the piano. You run a hoof along it, appreciating it for the instrument it is. With it you have played for the six mares who have made had the biggest impact in your life. And now you are about to play a personal song for the third one.
You stretch your hooves, and with grace, elegance, and panache you play a song that touches you.
As you finish you just look at the keyboard. A tear runs down your cheek, and you slowly back away from the piano. With an agonizing slowness you make your way to your bed. You feel so much older than you did just minutes ago. You crawl under the covers, and you get comfortable. A hoof wraps around you, and Pinkie pulls herself closer to you.
You turn out the lights, and the room plunges into darkness. As you feel sleep coming you hear one last sentence come from the pink mare beside you.
“Thank you.” You let out a sigh, and you know that it was worth it. The song, the story, and the memories.
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