Nothing to Say

by DuncanR

Chapter 4

Pinkie Pie lay on the floor of the farmhouse's living room, scribbling in a coloring book with a bubblegum pink crayon that was worn down nearly to the nub. There was a pile of other crayons scattered about the floor around her, most of them clean and unused.

"Pinkie?"

She looked up as her mother walked in from the kitchen, drying off a plate.

"I'm over here, ma."

"Have you done all your homework for tonight?"

Pinkie turned back to her coloring book. "Yup. All done."

"Very good then. Can you be a dear and help me with a chore? Your sister is busy with her own homework."

"Sure," she said. "Whatcha need?"

"Thank you, dear. Just go fetch the axe from the shed and meet me in the back yard. It won't take long."

Pinkie Pie froze in place. Her eyes stared straight ahead at nothing in particular.

"What?"

"I need to cut some firewood for the tinderbox. Your father would normally do it himself, but he's out to town for the morning."

Pinkie Pie shrieked as loud as she could. Her mother flinched in shock and dropped the dish, which shattered on the floor. Pinkie shot to her feet and sprinted for the stairwell. She screamed all the while. Her voice was loud and ragged, like a fire alarm or a police siren.

"Heaven above, child! What's the matter!?"

Her mother rushed towards her, but Pinkie only screamed louder. "Get away from meeeeee!! I dun wanna!!"

Pinkie scrambled up the stairs and ran headlong into Inky Pie, just as she came around the corner.

"Pinkie!?"

Pinkie hugged her big sister's leg and pressed her face against her shoulder, sobbing wildly. "Gedder away from meee!! I dun wanna go in the b-b-back yard!!"

Their mother stood at the bottom of the stairs, wide eyed with alarm. "Inky, dear? Is she all right?"

"What happened?" Inky said, "what did you do to her?"

She wrung her hooves together. "Nothing! I asked her for help with the firewood, that's all! I've no idea what—"

Inky Pie waved at her. "I think I know what's going on. Give us a few minutes."

Inky Pie dragged her little sister into her room, set her on the bed, and hugged her while she cried. The sobbing slowly tapered off. Inky held a hankey against her nose and wiped it off.

"Soree," Pinkie whimpered.

Inky set the hankey aside. "What's gotten into you? I've never seen you this scared before."

Pinkie Pie looked away. "Granny Pie told me a secret... she told me how to not be scared all the time. She said if you're scared, you should laugh. Laughter makes it disappear."

"And it worked, right? You used to be such a scaredy-cat. Now you can look under your bed and open your closet all by yourself, even at night."

"Yeah, because those ghosties weren't really real!"

"So?"

Pinkie flopped back on the bed. "Missus Bramble is real. I can't just laugh at her."

Inkie watched her for awhile.

"So, Missus Bramble is real, right?"

"Yuh huh."

"What about that scary story? Was that real?"

Pinkie Pie stared at the ceiling. "I dunno."

Inky Pie pursed her lips. "I think... you should learn more about her. Once you know what's real and what's not, then you'll know what to do."

---

Pinkie Pie tiptoed down the basement stairs and peered into the masonry workshop. There were tables loaded with chunks of rock, and the walls were covered with racks of chisels, files and hammers. Faint dust filled the air, and shafts of light flowed in from the three tiny windows along the upper wall. Pinkie Pie climbed to the bottom of the stairs and looked at the very back of the workshop. She saw her father standing at a bench, facing away.

"Daddy?"

His ear twitched. He set down a pair of calipers and turned to look at her. "Yes child?"

"Can I um, talk?" She pawed at the floor."It's about grown-ups."

He arched an eyebrow. "Sounds important. Come over here, child. Just promise not to touch anything."

"Promise."

She walked across the workshop, taking special care not to knock anything over. Her father lifted her up and sat her on the edge of the workbench. There were a bunch of big rocks laid out on squares of linen cloths.

"Sooooo..." Pinkie Pie swung her feet. "Can Old Mare Bramble hurt me?"

"She certainly could, if she wished to do so. She's quite strong, and she has enough true grit for six ponies half her age."

Pinkie Pie frowned.

"Does she wanna hurt me?"

"Missus Bramble wouldn't hurt a fly," he said. He picked up the calipers and began measuring one of the rocks. "You have my word on that. She's a grump and a recluse, but she's a peaceable sort."

"Oh."

"Mm."

Pinkie Pie stared at the floor for a moment.

"Daddy?"

"Mm?"

"Why's Missus Bramble alone all the time?"

"Nopony knows. S'pose you'd have to ask her."

"The why doesn't anypony else ask her? Don't they wanna know what's wrong? Don't they care?"

Her father frowned at her. "What a cruel thing to say, child. Of course we care. She's our neighbor. Ponies ask her all the time."

"Then what does she say?"

"She says it's none of our business. And she tells us to get off her land and leave her alone."

"But she must be so lonely! How can we help her if she won't even tell us what's wrong?"

Her father pulled up a chair and sat across from her. He gave her a long, sad look.

"Daddy?"

"It's a fact of life, Pinkie, but you just can't help them's that don't want to be helped. Missus Bramble was living here since before you were born, and she's always been this way. Ponies have tried to talk to her... time and time again, they try. But no matter what they say, she doesn't care to hear it."

Pinkie sniffled and hugged her knees.

"What is it, child?"

"There's gotta be somethin' I can say. Somethin' to make her smile."

He watched her for awhile. Eventually, he picked her up and set her on his lap.

"Some ponies won't listen no matter what you say. But always remember, child... actions speak louder than words." He set her on the floor and turned back to the workbench. "Go on upstairs. Give it some thought for awhile. I'm sure that when the time comes, you'll know just what to do."

---

The next day, Pinkie Pie walked down the main road and stopped next to the front gate to Bramble Bush Estates. She stared up at the wooden sign above, faded and colorless.

She walked towards the gate. She stopped at the last moment and turned back, then spent a minute or two just walking in tiny little circles. She sat on the dirt road and let out a sigh.

Eventually, she looked back over her shoulder and stared at the gate.

Okay. You can do this.

She stood up and marched to the gate again. She stopped in front of it and glowered intensely for a moment.

"HA!!" she said, and pointed at the gate. "HA, HA, HA, HA, HA!"

The gate offered no response. Pinkie Pie lifted her nose up as she walked under it, smiling triumphantly. She went up the same path as before, with the same wall of brambles to either side, and eventually came to the mansion's front yard.

She started towards the front porch, but stopped when she noticed motion off by the warehouse to her left. She walked along the edge of the yard and saw half a dozen spades floating in the air, all aglow with a pale white light. Missus Bramble stepped out of the warehouse, dressed in the same elaborate black dress with the veiled hat. She struggled with the door for a moment, and the spades crowded around her. She waved at them in mild annoyance. They obediently backed off a bit.

Pinkie Pie shuffled her hooves a bit, then politely coughed. Missus Bramble's head snapped towards her.

Pinkie stared up at her... at the black silhouette of her head, hidden behind the veil. She took a breath and opened her mouth, but nothing came out: even just the word 'hello' had caught in her throat.

Missus Bramble uttered a faint little 'hmph' and turned away, walking towards the mansion with a heavy, awkward limp.

Well this is off to a great start.

Pinkie followed Missus Bramble to the porch and watched as she stacked the spades against the wall,next to all the other tools. Pinkie looked up at her, about to speak, but the old mare walked past her without a thought. She limped to a rocking chair, sat down, and stared out at the fields.

Pinkie Pie watched her for awhile. Listened to the creaking of the chair. The faint whistle of cool, misty wind.

You'll know what to do, child. When the time comes, you'll know what to do.

Pinkie Pie walked around the rocking chair and stood in front of her. The old mare ignored her entirely. Pinkie climbed up onto the chair, struggling for a moment to reach the armrest. Missus Bramble rolled her eyes and let out a little sigh, but stubbornly refused eye contact.

Pinkie Pie settled in her lap, leaned against her, and closed her eyes. She wondered if she could listen to her heartbeat, but heard nothing through the rough, starched cloth of her dress. She was still as stone, all stiff and awkward, except for her breath.

After a few minutes of silence, Pinkie Pie felt Missus Bramble move: she'd twitched sharply. Pinkie looked up and saw a bit of her expression behind the veil: her face was clenched up, like she was struggling not to cough or sneeze. Pinkie snuggled against her and hugged her around the neck.

Missus Bramble began to cry. It sounded more like she was coughing: it was loud and sudden, like something was choking her from the inside. It was an ugly sound, ragged and dry... the sort of voice you'd expect to hear from a donkey or a buzzard. Her whole body shook, but Pinkie Pie held on tight. The crying gradually became wetter, less like an animal's and more like a person's. Missus bramble reached down and hugged Pinkie back: it made her seem huge and strong, as if she could hold the whole world together through even the very worst of times. She didn't know why, but it reminded Pinkie of her own mother.

At last, her crying quieted to a sniffle. The trembling stopped. Pinkie Pie looked up at her. Missus Bramble pulled her veil aside and wiped her eyes. It was the first time Pinkie had even seen her: her coat was dark grey with black dapples, and her mane was very short and bristly. Pinkie Pie stared into her blue eyes. They were still quite wet with tears, and brighter than she'd expected.

"She would've been about your age," she muttered.

"Who?"

Missus Bramble glanced over her shoulder, at the front door of the mansion.

"Would you care for some lemon cakes?"

Pinkie Pie smiled, and her eyes brightened up.

---

Pinkie Pie's mother rushed about the kitchen, pausing occasionally to fuss over a large cookpot on the stove. "Inky Pie? Have you finished setting out the dishes?"

A muffled groan came from the next room.

"Inky, I know you can hear me. Finish setting out the dishes."

"Why can't Pinkie Pie do it?"

"Why...? You mean you haven't even started yet!?"

"I'm busy!"

She snatched up a spice bottle and shook it into the pot three times."I swear, Inky, if you don't set up the table this instant you won't eat a single bite of dinner! Not one!"

"I'm not hungry."

Granny Pie came in with two glass trays full of cheese and mushroom casserole, which she set on the counter. "Here you go, dear. They just need ten minutes in the oven to brown the top."

She nodded. "Perfect. See if you can—" a ringing from the front door cut her off. "Inky? Go get the front door."

Granny nodded. "I'll go fetch some fresh milk from the icebox."

"No no, you go have a seat. You've helped plenty enough as it is."

"Are you sure, dear?"

"Really, it's quite all right." She turned to the door and shouted "Inky! Answer the door!"

"Can't," Inky called back,"busy setting the table."

She clenched her jaw. "Pinkie? Can you answer the door for me?"

"Aaaaalmost done my homework!"

Granny took the casserole dishes and carried them to the oven. "You go on. I'll take care of the kitchen."

Missus Pie stormed out of the kitchen, glaring at Inky Pie as she passed by, and went to the front door. "I told you before, you can just leave the mail on the—" She gasped when she saw the tall, elderly mare standing on the front porch. She was dressed in a mournful black dress complete with a corset and a lace veil.

She swallowed a slight lump in her throat."Ah... may I help you, ma'am?"

The mare pulled aside her veil. "Is this the residence of one Pinkie Pie? I should like to have a word with her."

"Oh, goodness me... Whatever she's done, I'm very sorry about it. She's been having troubles lately."

"Oh, she's not in any trouble. None that I know of, at least."

"Ah... yes. Then, why... may I ask...?"

"She visited me yesterday, and asked if there were any chores I needed help with."

"She asked that?"

"Among other things, yes."

"Of course. Just a moment."

She went back inside and saw Pinkie Pie setting out forks and knives on the dinner table.

"Pinkie?"

"I did my homework. Sorry it took so long."

"No, it's not that... there's somepony at the door to see you."

Pinkie looked up, wide eyed. She set aside the cutlery and went to the front door. "Oh! Good afternoon, Missus Bramble!"

"Good afternoon, Pinkie. Do you still have any interest in doing chores for me?"

"Yes, Missus."

"Very good. I've got a large crop of royal roses, but I can only gather blossoms from the exposed vines on top. Since you seem to be nimble enough to climb underneath them, I was hoping you could search for any I've missed."

Pinkie Pie nodded. "Yes, ma'am!"

"I'll pay you three bits for each bouquet of twelve roses you bring me. Only full bouquets will do. If you pick eleven roses, you get nothing. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Very good. You can visit no earlier than four and no later than six. I wouldn't want to deprive you of your schoolwork or your family."

Pinkie Pie looked up at her mother. "Is that okay?"

"Well... yes, of course."

Missus Bramble nodded. "Very good then, Pinkie. Visit me tomorrow and I can instruct you in the proper use of pruning shears. And good day to you, Missus Pie."

Pinkie's mother watched as the elderly mare walked back down the road. She turned to look at Pinkie Pie, but she was gone. She went back inside and saw her older daughter, Inky Pie, staring out the window.

"Where's your sister?"

"Who died?" Inkie Pie said, still staring.

"Don't you even joke!"

Inky looked at her, alarmed. "I wasn't! Was there a funeral or something? Did we miss it?"

Missus Pie rushed back to the dining room and saw Pinkie Pie setting out cups. "Pinkie, dear?"

Pinkie looked up. "Mm?"

Her mother worked her jaw back and forth for a moment. "Did you... visit with Missus Bramble?"

"Yeah."

"You mean you spoke to her? What did you say, exactly?"

Pinkie Pie shrugged. "Nuthin'. I just listened."

Missus Pie paused for a moment. "When you were listening to her... what did Missus Bramble say to you?"

Pinkie Pie shrugged again: a very slight, casual gesture. "Nothin'."

"She didn't say anything? At all?"

"She didn't have to."

She and Pinkie Pie watched each other for a moment. Eventually, Pinkie Pie set out the last of the cups and then walked to the kitchen. "Hey, granny? Can I help with anything?"

"Well, there's a whole pot of boiled potatoes sitting right there. Think you can find the masher for me?"

"Mashed taters? Awright! Squishy squish!"

Missus Pie sat at the table and listened quietly as Pinkie Pie and granny worked in the kitchen together, laughing and giggling.

Author's Note:

Credit for the cover illustration goes to http://tunskaa.deviantart.com/
http://tunskaa.deviantart.com/art/Not-wanted-v-1-332060650

Comments

[G-AB Acid]

Unlike the name of this story, this comment has loads to say. This comment is made chapter-by-chapter, so I may change opinions later without rectifying what I wrote previously. I hope it prove as an useful insight into the thought-process of a reader as he munches through the story.

---

Chapter 1:
What struck me as odd is the Pie family dynamics. Well, for starters, there's no Igneous or Cloudy Quartz; instead Pinkie lives with her grandma. "Why is this?" I ask myself as my brain reminds me of the Sad tag. Tough, assumptions besides, let's see the rest of the story before drawing opinions! The other two things that got me puzzled were:
1) Pinkie being somewhat annoyed by Granny Pie's over-protectiveness--a kid embarrassed by their peer's existence--whilst still holding her in high regard when mentioning how she is able to "not get scared anymore" thanks to her grandma's teachings. It's even more amusing because she does so even though she's alone with her grandma. I am also amused as to why she reject the lunch Granny Pie prepared for her (though this is only based on my headcanon; in which Granny Pie {not sure if "Nana Pinkie" is a nickname for Granny Pie or another pony entirely} was the one responsible for Pinkiefying Pinkamena Diane Pie).
2) Inky being the stereotypical "annoying older sibling". I don't know where this is set in time, but I can only assume, by Pinkie's mane, attitude and Inky's response to her having friends, that his is previous to her winning her Cutie Mark.
I love how many writers make straight-maned Pinkie much less hyper but still allowing her to remain quick-witted, as she's portrayed in the show (well... on her better appearances at least...). I can already see an issue inside Pinks, whereas she, for some reason, must appear tough to others (sharp replies; nonchalant attitude on her first encounter with her new friends) whilst actually craving for their interest on the inside (asking Granny if they can come over; actually wanting to have some good time with those two). I am still unsure about why this dichotomy (and the one presented on item 1) was presented to us, but I'm hoping it has something to do with the next chapters!

---

Chapter 2:
Right at the start I'm treated to a canonball over my previous hypothesis as to what this story is about. Cloudy Quartz is present after all... but we still see the same love-embarrassment duality inside of lil' Pinkie regarding her parents (and grandma).
I found it amusing that Pinkie got so... hurt/touched by the story about Old Miss Bramble (I, for some reason, refuse to believe that the floodgates were open because Pinkie was so ignorant about friendly dynamics pertaining to personal space/freedom and thought that Flicker was willingly going on just to torment her). And, when Inkie showed her own dislike for the gossiping (though not as emotive as Pinks), it got me thinking about the Pie's education. I assume all of them at some point were homeschooled, though both Pinks and Inks seem much different than Granny Pie and Cloudy Quartz. Both of them are good-mannered and somewhat introverted, but they lack the concern (bordering on hypochondria?) their family elders display. I also liked how you made Inkie somewhat protective of her little sister in this chapter even though she was very quick to antagonize Pinkie twice in thepast.
Oh! Speaking of Miss Bramble, nice touch by painting her with some kind of psychotic syndrome (most likely schizophrenia). That is, if the story is actually true...
Also, Filly Pinkie being happy is just... so fucking heartwarming! You have no fucking idea! (I'd like to direct the attention of the Jury to Exhibit A and Exhibit B.)

---

Chapter 3:
Well, this one is pretty straightforward IMHO. It basically gives in and confirms the fillies' prejudices as being true (to them, at least). Thing of note: the crack on Pinks' facade.

---

Chapter 4:
Right of the bat: awesome!Inkie to the rescue. Seriously, I just love how you wrote her. I had to pause for a moment and wonder why you presented Inkie as being disdainful of Pinkie, only to change her character completely on the 2nd chapter! But then, we see Inkie trying to push her chores towards Pinkie (which honestly made me grumble that there should've been more Pie family members in there {Blinkie & Maud} to really explore the dynamics of the Pie family... then I remembered that this wasn't the focus of the story and piped down). Miss Bramble's big reveal wasn't as impact-full as I've hoped, though Pinkie's maturity about it all ("I just listened.") was simply phenomenal. I love it when Pinkie slows down a bit from her hyper ways so we can get to see a bit of her core self.

---

Well, you introduced a lot of points in this story about the Pie family dynamics that weren't properly addressed. Honestly, I'd be a bit disappointed if it were not for the fact that this is exactly what happens in real life all the time.

As I said before, apologies if this doesn't sound very useful... I think I'd have to ponder on this story for a bit in order to catch any underlying themes present within it... or you're just such a good author that, when you write a story that doesn't have underlying themes; a story that simply is (a true slice of life); I just can't help myself but seek one. After all, what are we humans good for if not for pattern-making/seeking?

Every picture tells us a story. Sometimes we don't like the ending. Sometimes we don't understand it.

Now, DuncanR, may I borrow some of your time by asking us what exactly you intended to do with this story? I'm definitely curious!

[DuncanR]

5007400
Aww! You're very welcome. One of my fears was that the story might have been perceived as a "creepypasta", and that readers would find the ending jarring because they were expectign something horrifying or violent. It has sad and creepy elements, but it was meant to be heartwarming in the end. Also, I strongly prefer the idea that the elements simply brought out character traits that were already there. Otherwise, it kind of cheapens things... "You are generous because the element says so! DEAL WITH IT!!"

I like to think the characters are more complicated and organic than that. It's what gives the show such lasting appeal.

5007615

This comment is made chapter-by-chapter, so I may change opinions later without rectifying what I wrote previously. I hope it prove as an useful insight into the thought-process of a reader as he munches through the story.

Thank you! There's something wonderful about a "play by play" review since it tells me more about how a reader reacted to certain things. Some of my best feedback involves just sitting down with someone, face to face, and watching them read my story. Even if they don't say a single word, a single arched eyebrow or bored sigh tells can tell you everything you need to know. Again, the theme of listening.

To be honest, most of your comments about Pinkie Pie's family dynamics caught me off guard: They weren't the focus of the story, so their characterization here is mostly limited to how they affect Pinkie Pie and her upbringing. I try to make all my characters at least partly interesting and complex, even the no-name background ones, so I'm glad it worked out!

To be truthful, I wrote this story before I watched any of Season four, and I did no hard research into Pinkie's family members. If I had, I certainly would have referenced their proper names, and most likely would have used Maude Pie in place of Inkie Pie. Overall, I did the best I could without drawing the spotlight away from the protagonist. Siblings will squabble with each other all the time, but when the chips are down they've got each other's backs. As for Pinkie Pie's change in attitude, I tried to make her a realistic shy kid: she thinks she doesn't want friends, but only because she's never had any before. How do you know you hate broccoli if you've never actually tasted it?

Naturally, Chapter 3 isn't anything deep: it's just a "monster of the week" thing. It's kind of boring because it's so predictable: you get exactly what you expect. I was kind of worried this would turn people off because it sets a different tone. It's not a horror story, after all.

Now, DuncanR, may I borrow some of your time by asking us what exactly you intended to do with this story? I'm definitely curious!

It's actually pretty straightforward. The main message of the story is that when you want to help someone who seems hopelessly bitter or depressed or sad, sometimes you shouldn't say anything at all. You should listen to them. Let them know you care and that you're there to support them, all without saying a word. Even if there's nothing you can do to help, listening proves that you care. In fact, this is some of the best advice for helping people leave dangerous cults and abusive relationships: instead of saying "this is harmful and you should leave", simply let them know you're there if they ever need a couch to crash on or a couple dollars for a train or bus ride. As soon as you start lecturing or judging, no matter how right you are, people close their minds.

The secondary theme of the story is that even as a child, before she had friends or a cutie mark, Pinkie Pie still understood the importance of listening. The story references "Giggle at the Ghosties", but a more appropriate song might be Pinkie's "Smile Song": you'll hear a verse where Pinkie admits "It's true some days are dark and lonely". I like the idea that Pinkie Pie isn't a mindless positivist who's in denial. She knows real life can be sad and complicated, but she still doesn't give up: Our strength of character is not judged by what we do when times are easy.

[horizon]

Got 90,000 words to get through for this month's writeoff, so pleasure reading is temporarily on hold, but I'll look forward to jumping into this as soon as the reviews are finished!

[AugieDog]

Halfway through the first chapter:

And I'm clicking the happy little star and the equally-happy upward thumb. There are a few missing quotation marks I've noticed so far, but it's very good to have a story from you waiting for me when I next get a dozen dozen moments free.

Mike

[devas]

This was very very good.

Kudos

[j-grizz]

Pssst. Augie sent me. Here's a thumb.

[Meridian Prime]

This was well worth the wait. An absolute joy to read.

[G-AB Acid]

5008019 I have been putting off replying to your comment for some reason. I know that you enjoy my comments for they do not touch on the technical aspects of your story (even though we both know you're up for some good technical criticism as well).

I know that Pinks' family dynamics weren't your focus with this... and I don't know if it my bias for liking Pinkie and your writing (resulting in me loving how you'd characterize the family members) or me wanting an explanation for Pinkie's behavioral change. I know you focused a bit on her upbringing to explain some key aspects of her behavior, but I... I dunno... I just read your stories and I am always left hungry for more... even though, to make a comparison, I just had a wonderfully prepared meal. I want to lick my plate clean and order a second, third, fourth round. I feel like a dick typing this... I enjoy your work a lot, but I feel... greedy by wanting more. I also feel a bit saddened that I can't make my comments more valuable for you; even though you made it clear that you enjoy them, I feel like I need to come up with something that's worthy of this (and your other) story(ies).

Siblings will squabble with each other all the time, but when the chips are down they've got each other's backs.

I dunno... I think I'm surprised by Pinkie + Inkie dynamics because I hate my two brothers. I state this with no emotion in my heart (not even anger). They're such horrible human beings that I simply stopped feeling when I'm around them. I guess this is why I thought it to be curious (ah... the wonders ofself-projection... fabulous, no?)

[Slavoj Zizek]

Adorable as an after school special starring a basket of puppies. Almost sickening, but you pull it off.
The image of tiny Pinkie scrambling up into Bramble's lap was too cute.

[SirTruffles]

Have a like, a bookshelving, a feature recommendation, and this accompanying ribbon:
i.imgur.com/6MrWqNZ.png

Excellent read

[Bonk]

Impressive read, very well done. Can't wait to see where you go with this.

[PresentPerfect]

Dang that was good. I gotta say, the other characters pop off the page so much, they kind of overshadow Pinkie for the first half, but you've made a rich farm life scenario and a very touching story.

[Winter_Solstice]

This story has just the right mix of sad with mystery. I'm very impressed that you able to show a young Pinkie Pie in believable character, as she was briefly portrayed in The Cutie Mark Chronicles.

This strange tale remains one of my favorites, and so I'd like to welcome it into The Club

i.imgur.com/BF6x9JM.png

[PaulAsaran]

You can has review!

[-Pinkamena_Pie-]

Ooh, I remember this! It happened a long time ago!