Sorrows and Tragedies
The pink pony, with her head held low, trudged drearily into the city limits. Even though it was in the middle of the afternoon, the rain poured down on her head, flattening her mane until it hung over her eyes in an irritatingly cherry-colored curtain. She puffed once, trying to get the mane to leave her vision, but all that did was release a small cloud of frozen breath and make her hair flop back into place. The pony sighed, her small legs far too tired to have continued walking. However, her hooves were already so numb from the cold that it didn’t matter.
If she had looked up at her surroundings, she would have noticed a bright and cheery little town, filled with bright and cheery little houses that sheltered bright and cheery little ponies from the storm. She would have seen that the town she’d entered hadn’t lost its bright color, even in the downpour. The small pink earth pony would have glimpsed a few of the town’s residents giving her pitying looks as she continued down the street.
However, she was tired of pity. She’d had far too much of it already, and wasn’t willing to swallow any more.
Pinkamena didn’t even know how she came to be in the bright and cheery little shop in the first place. Maybe it was the fantastic aroma that drifted through the iron wall of water. Maybe it was the fact that, out of all the buildings in the square, those lights seemed to shine brightest in the dark. Even looking back on the event, she couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that, as soon as she stepped through the door of the small business (curiously shaped like a cupcake from the outside), she immediately felt more at home than she had in weeks.
The walls of the establishment were in bright pastels and energetic colors such as yellow and orange. A small, humble counter sat a ways away from the entrance, advertising colorful cupcakes and purple pasties. And, though round tables were scattered about the dining room, nopony sat there. It almost seemed as if the restaurant was vacant. The only two ponies in the giant expanse were a mare and a stallion, both bearing baking Cutie Marks.
The mare was a small, plump pony with a blue coat and a pink mane that sat upon her noggin like the icing to a cupcake. She busied herself with a dusting rag and the counter, as if trying to make sure that not a speck of dirt remained on the glass. The stallion, however, was a lanky fellow, sporting an orange coat and a striped bow tie. He balanced a try of cookies, still steaming and giving off a delicious aroma, perfectly on his tail.
“Well hi there, deary,” the mare called out, waving a friendly hoof in Pinkamena’s direction as soon as she noticed somepony walk in the door. “Anything I can help you with?”
Pinkamena did her best to smile back in response, but the best she could manage was something close to a grimace. “Not really, Ms.,” she responded. “Just trying to get in out of the storm. I’ll be on my way as soon as this rain lets up.” Pinkamena gestured to the window, which was really a moot point; the rain was so think that it was impossible to see the petunias growing in the pots on the sill.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a great growl sounded. Pinkamena tensed, not sure what kind of livestock these ponies might keep in stock. Instead of looking shocked, the stallion and mare just giggled. “Sounds like somepony’s a bit peckish, wouldn’t you say, Cup Cake?” the stallion chuckled.
Pinkamena darkened a bit around the cheeks, not having realized that the noises had been coming from her stomach.
“Sit down right there and I’ll bring you something to eat, okay?” The blue mare smiled warmly at Pinkamena, gesturing to one of the rounded tables near the wall. “Carrot Cake, be a dear and fetch me some icing, would you?
“Oh, um,” Pinkamena stuttered, “I don’t have any money to pay—”
“I didn’t expect you to,” the mare, Cup Cake, interrupted with a wave of her hoof. “It’s on the house.” With another grin and a wink of her mischievous eyes, Mrs. Cup Cake disappeared around the corner, leaving Pinkamena alone in the bright and cheerful dining portion of the café.
If Pinkamena were to be completely honest with herself, she was excited to be in such a place as this. Never before had she met such friendly ponies, nor had she ever had the pleasure of smelling such mouth-watering scents. Normally, back home, the only smells that would greet her would be the evening meal of oats and water; living on a rock farm didn’t pay very much, so her parents had spent everything they could to get their children good food on the table. Her mother would even put blueberries in their oats occasionally…that is…before…
Pinkamena’s eyes welled up with tears. Her ears went flat against her soaked skull as she tried to hold back the sobs. The mental image of her mother smiling down at her, alongside her father with that approving frown of his, was almost too much…
Suddenly, an orange face was pressed right up against hers, bright green eyes staring right at her. “Well howdy there!”
Pinkamena startled backwards, falling right out of her chair. She landed on the ground with a harsh thud. The chair clattered to the floor harshly, the noise ringing out in the silence of the restaurant. Pinkamena sat up slowly, rubbing her head gingerly where it had come into contact with the wall.
The pony who had broken her out of her reverie chuckled a bit, clamping one hoof over her mouth to try and stifle the giggles. “Ah’m mighty sorry,” the strange filly said, offering a hoof to help Pinkamena up. She accepted it cautiously, not sure whether or not to trust this strange earth pony. “Ah honestly didn’t mean ta surprise ya. Just saw ya sittin’ here with that frown on yer face, and decided to introduce mahself. Ah’m Applejack, by the way. But most ponies ‘round here just call me AJ.” The strange filly with the green eyes and freckles dotting her muzzle simply tipped her brown Stetson in Pinkamena’s direction, preferring this gesture over a hoofshake.
Pinkamena nodded back to Applejack. “My name is Pinkamena Diane Pie,” she said, risking the smallest of smiles. And, even though it was more of a muscle twitch near the corners of her mouth, Applejack grinned widely. “See, now yer smilin’, Pinkam— Ah mean Penki—” Applejack groaned as she stumbled over the pink pony’s name again. “Can Ah just call ya Pinkie Pie?”
Pinkamena, or Pinkie as she had just been named, smiled a bit wider in response, a bit of emotion actually reaching her eyes this time. AJ grinned wider in response, scooting closer to the pink earth pony. “So, what’s gotcha here in Ponyville?”
Pinkamena was a bit confused; she hadn’t even glanced at the sign coming into town, so she wasn’t quite sure what the town’s name actually was. But, judging from Applejack’s question, she had her answer right there.
However, what was harder to answer was what she was doing there. Her hooves had just carried her through the woods and through the front gate; she hadn’t been paying attention to where she had been going. If she was being honest with herself, she had been running away from the memories…and the farm…and her sisters, who really needed her right now… Well, wasn’t it within a pony’s rights to have a few days to herself? Especially after her parents…
“Whoa Nelly!” Applejack, looking a bit flustered, grabbed a few napkins from the table’s center and handed them hastily to the pink pony, trying to dab up the tears Pinkamena hadn’t realized were falling. She jammed the paper bits up to her eyes, trying to stem the flow of tears she’d attempted to dam. “Is something the matter?” AJ asked, trying to calm the sobbing filly.
Without word or warning, Pinkamena dashed out of the bakery, desperate to get away from such kind ponies. She knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that she didn’t deserve it.
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Pinkamena’s hooves pounded through the mud, spraying the mixture of earth and water with every frantic step. She didn’t pay attention to where she was going; all she knew was that she needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Those ponies, with their kind smiles and helpful actions, trying to become friends with her… Her mental state was simply too fragile to deal with that at the moment.
With her lungs screaming for air, Pinkamena faltered to a stop, her weary yet desperate eyes scanning the surrounding landscape for some sort of cover from the rain. Through the curtain of water came the form of a tree, which appeared to be the only standing thing for about ten feet. On stumbling feet, Pinkamena made her way towards the tree, huddling against the rough bark in order to gain some semblance of warmth. The rain had sapped both her body heat and her energy, so the only thing she could really do was crouch there, stare out into the rain, and wish that her parents were there.
Her heart longed for her mother’s reassuring words; for her father’s worn hoof that was often more comforting than disciplining; for their kind words whispered into her ear; for their coats that smelled of lavender and gemstones. Her heart throbbed with agony as she recalled, not their kind faces, but their blank stares that gazed at her from the carriage wreck.
The police had said that their wheel had broken over a sharp rock in the road, leading the couple to lose control of the carriage and careen into the shallow ditch and against a nearby tree. Her mother’s normally tidy bun had come loose, casting her gray, wiry mane all over her blood-soaked shoulders. Her father’s face, which he typically took pride in keeping clean, was soaked in red liquid and streaked with dirt. Both of them had blank eyes, the life that had been so prominent in them now gone.
Pinkamena collapsed into her hooves, her sides heaving sporadically with her heavy sobs. Tears streaked anew down her pink muzzle, landing on the already-soaked grass. Her ears lay flat against her skull, and her mane drooped in a pink pool around her. The sorrow and helpless rage she felt tore at her from the inside. The pain radiating from her chest felt so real that she feared she would be ripped apart any moment. She wished dearly that her parent were there, smiling down at her and reassuring her that everything would be all right. However, when she looked up, her parent were absent; instead, standing in their place, was the filly from the bakery.
Applejack simply stood there in the rain, peeking out from under her Stetson. Her blond mane was flat with the rain that pounded her small frame. However, despite her dreary surroundings, her green eyes glowed with a fierce intensity. Pinkamena half expected her to turn and walk away, shunning her for the embarrassing display in the bakery. However, Applejack opened her mouth and asked one simple question.
“They’re dead, aren’t they? Your parents, I mean.”
Pinkamena winced a bit, the unexpected question hitting her hard. She wondered how exactly the filly had known about her parents. She had been careful not to mention anything about her troubles; Pinkamena always prided herself on being a pony that others could rely on but that didn’t have to rely on anypony else. But, before she could answer Applejack’s question, the orange filly made her way under the tree where Pinkamena crouched, plopping next to the rain-soaked earth pony.
After a short moment of silence, Pinkamena opened here mouth, her voice coming out small and a bit hoarse. “How did you know?”
Applejack grinned a small, sad smile. “It was a bit obvious.” Seeing Pinkamena deflate a bit, she quickly amended her response. “What Ah mean is that Ah’ve seen that look before. The one that is so alone, but won’t call to anypony else for help because you can take care of yerself. The one that wishes that yer parents would come and make everything better, but they can’t because they’re not there anymore. The one that wants nothin’ more than to curl up and cry yer eyes out, but ya can’t because you’ve got other ponies to look out for now that yer parents can’t.”
Pinkamena’s eyes grew wide as she listened to Applejack speak. After her parents had passed, her younger sisters had nopony else to take care of them. Pinkamena had been wandering from town to town, trying to find odd jobs here and there in order to send money back to her sisters for food and supplies to keep the rock farm running. She had to keep a strong face, if not for herself then for her sisters. Inky and Blinky needed somepony to look out for them, so it was up to her to keep their lives as normal as possible.
She was forced to keep a brave face, and didn’t dare to tell anypony else of her woes, as they might take pity on her and give her spare bits; her family was her responsibility and hers alone. However, what weighed the most on her mind was how exactly Applejack, whom she had just met a small while ago, could tell her whole tale by the look on her face.
Before Pinkamena could even open her mouth, Applejack answered her unasked question. “Ah’ve seen that look before. Ah’ve seen it in the mirror.” She peered over at Pinkamena under the brim of her Stetson. “Ah’ve lost mah folks too, Pinkie Pie. Lost ‘em to a couple o’ fallen apple trees.” A stony silence passed between the two, the only sound being the steady drum of the rain. Pinkamena wondered how exactly a filly, who could be no older than she, could have lost her parents and still manage to have a smiling face.
A thousand questions swam in the pink pony’s mind, all of them anxious to be answered. Did Applejack have anypony else to look after her after her parents had passed? Did she also have siblings to look after? How did she continue to smile after having her parents stolen from her? However, the question that managed to swim to the surface came out quietly, almost as if dreading the answer.
“Does the pain ever go away?”
Applejack paused for a moment, not sure if she should give the pony beside her a straight answer or sugar-coat it for her. However, sneaking a peek at the small pink filly, she was struck by how desperately she peered up at her, as if begging for a response that would both answer her question and belie her fears. She sighed heavily, giving her the one thing that would hurt the most: the truth.
“No, it won’t.” Pinkamena’s whole body seemed to cringe; that was definitely not the answer she’d been hoping for. However, before she could sprint away, Applejack added one more statement.
“But it will get better.”
Applejack put a reassuring hoof over Pinkamena’s shoulders as the smaller pony shook, both from the cold and from the welled up tears. “Ah lost mah folks a year ago, and Ah can tell ya that there are times when Ah feel like I’m gonna burst ‘cause the pain is so bad. It’s times like those when Ah would gladly give anything ta get mah parents back. However, it’s also times like that when Ah know Ah can run to mah family. They’ve always got mah back, just as Ah have theirs. Ah know that, if there’s ever a problem Ah can’t handle on mah own, I can run ta them and they’ll help me through it.”
Applejack put a hoof under Pinkamena’s chin, lifting her face so that the two fillies were staring eye to eye. “No, the pain never goes away. But Ah can promise ya, without the shadow of a doubt, that it gets better. You’ve just gotta work through it. And Ah know that, if anypony can do it, you can, Pinkie Pie.”
Even when she looks back on that night, Pinkie can’t recall exactly what happened after that. All she can remember is weeping in Applejack’s forelimbs, her small body shaking with the force of her cries. She wept for her parents; she cried for her sisters; she even shed tears for the memories she would never get to make.
When all of her tears had left her body, Pinkie Pie sat up, looking at the world with new eyes. The rain must of stopped some time during her moment of sadness, for the sun shone down on the beaten dirt path that lay before them. The bright rays of sunshine cast dappled spots of green on the path and on Applejack, who sat in the shade, regarding Pinkie as if she could explode at any minute.
But, instead of running away or weeping again, Pinkie Pie smiled. She grinned from ear to ear for the first time since she’d gained her Cutie Mark a year ago. She smiled for her parents who were in a better place; she grinned for her sisters who had fond memories of their parents to guide them; she beamed for the memories that she herself possessed of a time gone by when her parents would greet her kindly and with kind smiles. She faced the sun, which seemed to shine down one her with happiness, and beamed right back.
“Thank you, Applejack,” Pinkie Pie said, turning to face her newfound friend. She didn’t say anything else, and she didn’t need to. In those three words, more meaning had passed between the two fillies than most adult ponies could understand.
Applejack grinned back. “Call me AJ.”
Pinkie Pie nodded cheerily. “And I guess you can call me Pinkie Pie if you want to.” Pinkie started to turn down the road and back to Ponyville, but a loud growl stopped her in her tracks. The pink earth pony started to giggle, realizing that her stomach wasn’t very happy with her, seeing as she hadn’t eaten since the previous day. She recalled the kind mare from that afternoon, wondering idly if the offer of a free meal was still open, when AJ’s voice called out to her.
“Hey, wanna join me and mah family fer supper? We’ve got an extra spot at the table if you wanna fill it.”
Pinkie Pie faced the orange filly, still grinning broadly. She nodded enthusiastically. “I’d love to, AJ. Lead on!” The two fillies struck out towards the Apple Farm, tears dried up spirits lifted. And, perhaps it was just the sun drying out the pink pony’s soaked hair but, as they trotted along, her perpetually straight mane became even more mangled and inflated, adding to her overall joyous disposition.
Their sorrows were never forgotten, nor did they ever desire them to leave. Tragedy strikes everypony, and when it does, it is never pleasant. But what is more important than mourning the things that you’ve lost is enjoying what you had, and making the most of what you’re left with.
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Rather nice, could have even more potential if you were to wish for it to.
"No stallion for any considerable period can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true."
- Nathaniel Hawthorne, or Mark Twain.
Yeah, I know it could definitely go other places. For example, I had Applejack explaining (in more depth) what happened to her parents. I also was going to make the tree they were sitting under Bloomberg. However, those sections just didn't fit into the story as I had it at the finishing point.
But, I still hope you enjoyed it. 
I cried..
2768382 Aw, I'm sorry!
But I hope it was the good sort of cry...if there is one... 
"The mental image of her mother smiling down at her, alongside her father with that approving frown of his, was almost too much…"
Approving frown I really like that statement a good fan fiction nice work
How can you write something as good as this when you're half asleep?
I can do that, but it's really hard and I can't write nearly as good as this... AT ALL. 
Really nice story, flowed really smoothly, maybe ellaborate on aj's own circumstances a bit more (big mac and granny smith particularly), other than that it was great :D not bad for a sleep deprived mind!
2796314 Thank you so much for the compliment. Yeah, I was going to add more about her circumstances, but then it felt like Applejack was going on for two pages about her own troubles when the character seems more likely to pay more attention to the filly in need. But yeah, I wish I could have added more...
2779832 For some reason, I normally write my best at eleven o'clock at night to midnight...don't ask me why.
But thank you so much for commenting and complimenting!
2777365 Thank you very much. It took a bit of finagling with my brain to come up with that one, but I'm glad someone appreciated it.
New chapter?
This was really good! I enjoyed it and did feel the sadness intended. The only thing I could possibly think of that could've been better is if her parent's death had been immediately before this like I thought it had when I started reading it; her immediate pain would make more sense if she hadn't been wandering around trying to keep things going for awhile.
Great sstory! ^_^
5679475 I understand where you're coming from; it would have been fresh in her memory, making the pain that much more acute. I was trying to portray how crushed she was feeling under the weight of trying to support her sisters from afar, feeling that she didn't have any time to properly mourn. Yeah...I'm kinda twisted that way.
3710375 I'm sorry, but not only do I not have any idea what the next chapter would entail, but the creativity bug has not bitten me in quite a while for this fandom... Sorry...
This was simply a sad and beautiful little story that was written well. I thought that you did a good job overall in the plot and in the characterisations of young AJ and Pinkie. Simply well done my friend!
-frost
5818680 Thank you very much for your kind words. They mean a lot.
Very well done
!!! Cried with all of my heart
