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Part One: Beginning2,409 words
Part Two: Coming Back(Edited)2,649 words
Part Three: The Crazed Lover(Edited)1,684 words
Part Four: Family History(Edited)1,133 words
Part Five: Queen Takes Knight2,525 words
Part Six: A Small Reveal3,978 words

Part One: Beginning

It started as a beautiful Sunday morning on a small house near Ponyville’s Lake. The sounds of birds chirping nearby, the cold morning air, and the smell of wet grass. The sun rise over the horizon as the moon takes a rest from sharing its beautiful night. I fell asleep on the couch after another intense week of helping my clients. That Diamond Tiara filly has cause me so much stress lately since her father sent her to therapy. At least I don’t have to worry about her until next Saturday. Sleeping in on Sundays is the only days I get any peace, but I was rudely awaken by a continuous knocking on my door.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Five more minutes.” I said in my sleep, rolling over in an attempt to ignore the noise.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“No, no, no!” I said drowsily,” I don’t want to go into the oven.” I was dreaming that I was a unbaked pie and was about to be put into the oven.

“Sappy! If you don’t open this door right this instant, I’m going to break it down!” said a hyperactive voice.

Suddenly I heard a slam against my door. Up in an instant, I bolted from my couch to open the door, revealing Pinkie Pie in a disheveled mess.

Pinkamena Diane Pie, one of my weekly clients, is one of the ponies I’m profiling. She is naive, cheerful, playful, and is the best at bringing anypony’s moods up. She has been coming to me ever since she had a terrible nightmare about killing everypony and other gruesome things. That nightmare has put her in a state of emotional distress and wears a facade of happiness each day to hide her distress from her friends. She heard about me when I recently moved here a few months ago to become the town’s local psychiatrist and promptly made reservations for a weekly schedule. She kept on calling me “Sappy”, even though I told her many times that my name is Sapiunt.

“Hey Sapiunt!” Said Pinkie, cheerfully, rubbing her head painfully while lying on the ground.

“Pinkie how many times have I said before, please don’t use your head as a battering ram.” I said to her as I pulled her off the ground.

“I know, but it’s so fun!” She said, still a little dazed.

“Well, come inside Pinkie.” I said to her as I move aside to allow her in.

“Thanks Sappy!” Said Pinkie as she trotted in.

“Well, since you’re here early,” I said to her, motioning her to go to the couch, “why don’t you have a seat and we’ll get started.”

“Oki doki loki!” Said Pinkie, smiling and jumping to the couch.

I checked myself on the mirror, black and teal mane and tail, gray eyes, a triad of four-leaf clovers cutie mark, white coat and a stout horn growing from my skull. Finished checking myself in the mirror, I looked at Pinkie and saw her singing a random song. Sometimes I wonder how she manages to do all these impossible things. She never ceases to amaze me and makes me wonder what she thinks all the time.

“Sapiunt, are you there?” Asks Pinkie, waving her hooves across my face, “You’re spacing out again.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Pinkie, I was lost in thought.” I replied.

“Oh I know!” said Pinkie pulling out a chocolate cupcake from thin air.

“Pinkie, Wait! I-” I started, but she cut me off.

“Try it!” Pinkie said before she shoved the cupcake into my mouth.

“Ack!” I choked on the cupcake lodged in my mouth.

“So how does it taste?” Said Pinkie, oblivious to the fact that I’m choking on the cupcake.

I tried motioning to Pinkie to get me a glass of water, but my plan backfired.

“Oh, we’re playing charades before we start? Okay!” said Pinkie Pie cheerfully.

“Is it a drink?” She asked.

I nodded my head yes and kept on doing the same action. Grasping at my neck, my face was slowly turning a shade of blue, eyes became bloodshot, and my tongue rolled out of my gaping mouth as I tried to dislodge the cupcake in failed gaging attempts.

“Is it apple cider, sarsaparilla, cola, milkshake, water?” Asked Pinkie.

I nodded as I fell to the floor and continued to struggle for air, my flailing limbs knocking down pictures from the wall and vase full of flowers from Trixie. Was this the end? Was I meant to die like this, writhing on the floor helplessly as the only pony in front of me obviously thought I was playing a silly game? I thought I would die another way rather than choking to death. I thought I would die by being killed by “old friends”.

“OHMYGOSH!” Said Pinkie. She darted into the kitchen for just a second before returning with a glass of water balanced on her head, then passed it to me to drink.

Grabbing the glass of water, I chugged down the cool liquid and began breathing heavily, trying to regain my breath and relief. Perhaps I was wrong, she isn’t completely oblivious.

“I’m so-so-so-so-so-so sorry Sappy.” said Pinkie as her mane deflated and her coat became a darker shade of pink.

“It’s okay...Pinkie...let’s start.” I panted as I lead her to the couch.

“Sappy, I-” Pinkie started.

“Its not a problem Pinkie, so let’s talk.” I said, cutting her off.

“Okay.” Said Pinkie avoiding eye contact with me.

She lay down on the couch as I sat on my armchair, across from her. I notice that she’s been feeling guilty for the cupcake incident earlier. The way she shifted on the couch every few seconds and rubbing her hooves together.

“Pinkie I forgive you, but stop letting the guilt get to you.” I said to her placing a hoof on her shoulder.

“Oki doki loki!” Said Pinkie smiling as her mane and coat returns to normal. Drastic changes in emotion, a definite sign of being bipolar.

“Now Pinkie, do you still have the same nightmares? Or has their frequency at least slown down?” I asked, wearing my glasses and holding a clipboard in my forehooves and quill in my mouth.

“No, the nightmares still keep on coming every few days, Sappy, and I don’t know what to do.” Replied Pinkie while she stared up at the ceiling.

“Hm.” I said and jotting down some notes, “And why do you think the nightmares keep on coming back?”

“That’s the thing, I try to giggle at it, but it doesn’t work and even singing isn’t helping.” said Pinkie sadly.

“Your grandmother’s advice about giggling at the ghostie didn’t help? Interesting, and you said it normally works?” I asked.

“Yes Sappy it does, but not when the nightmares come.”said Pinkie.

“Hmm.” I murmured and continuing to jots down some more notes.

Client: Pinkie Pie
Reasons: Therapy for nightmares

She shows obvious signs of bipolar by her “happy, sad” persona. May be schizophrenic, but need further confirmations. Grandmother’s advice about the dark, mostly scary things, is a remedy I would approved. Singing isn’t a bad thing either. Imagining something happy when under freight is a good distraction, depending the situation. Recent nightmares suggest that she’s-

“Sappy?” said Pinkie,” Why do you never use magic?” As she interrupted my writing.

“I’d rather not use my magic Pinkie,” I said to her, “it’s nothing of your concern.”

“Okay!” said Pinkie, dropping the subject entirely.

“Now, I want you to try to revisit the recent nightmare Pinkie.” I asked her.

“Well, this time it involves only you and me, Sappy.” said Pinkie

“Oh really?” I ask, “Would you like to tell me?”

“No!” said Pinkie shaking her head.

I know she’s hiding something, the overreaction to the recent nightmare proves it. She’s also been trying to avoid eye contact me for three weeks now and she’s been acting out of her usual norm. I need to observe her body movements more to confirm my suspicions if she had any violent fantasies about me.

“Pinkie, please I’m here to help you.” I said to her placing a hoof on her shoulder.

She closed her eyes shut and tried to move away from me as if I was a contagious pony. This confirms my suspicions about her fantasies. Writing some notes, there were a couple more unconfirmed suspicions I needed answered from her.

“Pinkie, have you been having gruesome fantasies about me?” I asked her.

She looked at me wide-eyed and did the most unexpected things I’ve seen in years, she slapped me.

“How did you know that!” said Pinkie furiously, she lunged at me and started to punch me repeatedly. Her eyes filled with fury and hatred, this isn’t the Pinkie I know. This Pinkie was determined to cause as much pain as possible until I die.

Time moved slowly as each hit landed on me. It seemed to move in hours rather than minutes. What felt like five hours was actually five minutes, I heard hooves steps bursting through my door and somepony screaming at her. She just ignored the screams and continued her relentless barrage.

“Pinkie,” I said weakly as she continued her barrages of punches, ”please...stop...”

She slowly stopped her punches and noticed me, bleeding and bruised on the chest and face. My vision blurred, the last thing I saw was Pinkie being restrained with magic by a lavender unicorn and me being carried away by a cyan pegasus.

I thought about my life so far of how all the clients I helped were now leading successful lives. The walls were filled with photos of clients’ families and awards. My desk is always constantly filled with letters from the families I helped and how each letter says that I’m a part of their family.

I became a psychiatrist to escape my own problems and to help those whose are labeled by society as a lost cause. Some of these lost cause patients were grateful for me that I was there for them when society abandoned them. I’m grateful about their gratitude and praise, but I didn’t want them to be attached to me.

One of my former clients, a little filly named Ditzy Doo, was labeled a lost cause because she was depressed to the point where her family abandoned her and no psychiatrists wanted to help her. She was one of my first patients when I was earning my P.h.D in psychology. She was a moody pegasus when I first met her and I would not forget about it. Inexperienced back than, I used the basic training that they taught us in the university. But the training failed, and after the meeting she nearly killed herself.

Upon hearing the news, I became depressed and made a promise to myself that it wouldn't happen again. So trying new methods, I went back to her to try again. Then something unexpected happen, I see her body telling a different story when she was talking to me. She was telling me how each day she would be happy, normal pegasus. But her body language told me that it was a rough life where she lived. I then asked questions that are normally frowned upon by the psychologist community.

I asked her if I can observe her to see her daily routines. At first she was angry about the idea of a stalker following her. But after a few broken chairs and me receiving a couple of bruises later, I told her that I just wanted to learn about her lifestyle. She didn’t liked the idea and requested to end the session, so I allowed her to leave.

After she left, I sent a request to the university for a month and a half off for research purposes. Receiving approval for the time off, I began to follow Ditzy around, studying her day-to-day habits and lifestyle. It took six weeks of analyzing and notetaking to conclude that she has suffered from severe psychological trauma that involves bullying of her wall-eyes and negligence of the parents.

I approached her at the boarding school she was attending. I told her about my conclusion and advice about the problems she had encountered, she begged me not to go because I was the only one who understood her. I told her that I needed to help other ponies like her and that I need to return to the university. She told me that I became her role model when I defended her from the bullies and when I treated her like family.

But I told her the same thing, saying goodbye for one last time. I left that day with only the things in my saddle and the bits I earned working as a store clerk.

Many years later, I heard that she became Ponyville’s finest mailmare and a loving mother to two beautiful unicorns. When she saw me at Pinkie’s Welcome-to-Ponyville parties, she cried tears of joy and tackled me. She told me that she missed me and tried to track me down ever since I left. She couldn’t explore the world around her and that has no idea where I would go after returning to the university. She sends me letters every few months about how her life has been going so far and how grateful she was to me for never giving up on her.

Reliving those memories makes me happy and gives me a feeling of self accomplishment, but I grew tired of life. I see Equestria now as a boring place to be in because I’m married to my job, no romantic interests, and a loner. Sometimes when I find myself alone, I try to kill myself in various methods by drowning, jumping off cliffs, or overdose on medicines. But I never really went through it, some part of me wanted to stay here. Its really sad that I can’t tell everypony the truth about me, even when I’m slowly plunging into darkness.

AN: First, I would like to thank Lunafan1k, enake, and TheWiselessStallion for editing this chapter. And I hope you enjoy the first chapter.

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