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Sticks and Stones1,213 words
A Shoulder To Cry On1,161 words
Troubled Dreams1,128 words

Sticks and Stones

Pinkie Pie was never questioned over her cutie mark. Three party balloons. Bright, bubbly, hyperactive pony who loves to throw parties and make her friends smile. What’s to question? Well, how about questioning the colours of the balloons that adorn her flank? Two blue, one yellow.

Pinkie bounced around the bakery, chatting with the guests of her latest party. The music, provided by the ever popular DJ P0n3, thrummed through the air merrily, and the ponies danced along as they made pleasant conversation. The younger party goers had long since left for their snuggly little beds, so Pinkie decided to crack open her special party stash of hard cider from Sweet Apple Acres, which freely flowed from keg to glass to stomach. A couple of ponies were bumping and grinding on the makeshift dance floor, while some others were hooking up in the some of the eating stalls, having tongue wrestling sessions. The party pony clambered up to the stage and took a microphone from the DJ deck to make an announcement.

“Attention, everypony!” The party guests turned their attention to the pink mare as the music dimmed in volume to allow Pinkie to speak, smiling in anticipation of what activity Pinkie was going to announce next. “First of all, I’d like to thank you all for coming, as always, and I’m so happy to see you’re all enjoying yourselves. And, as your party host, I hope you enjoy the festivities to your pony hearts’ content. Now, for our next party game-“

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake, will you just shut the BUCK up‽” The room shuddered to a halt with a gasp, as the shocked party guests turned to find a black Earth pony stallion glaring at the party host with hateful eyes. The mark on his flank depicted a broadsword cutting a snake’s tongue in half. “Buck, you’re so annoying,” the stallion sneered, blowing steam from his nostrils as he berated the pink mare. “Just because you’re the so-called “Party Pony of Ponyville” doesn’t mean that everypony likes your parties. Hay, I’m willing to bet good money that over half the ponies in this backwater town only come to your parties just because they pity you. You make them feel like they have no choice but to come to your parties because, otherwise, you’re just a sad little pony with no friends, desperately begging for attention. Well, let me tell you something, Pinkie Cry! Nopony would even notice if you were to disappear.”

Pinkie’s eyes bugged at those words, and the room around her began to warp and distort, walls closing in and spacing out around her as the black stallion’s eyes blinked sideways, the round pupils transforming into slits, not unlike those of a snake, or any other reptile. His furry pony body stretched and twisted into a long, slender spiral. Fangs grew in his jaw and his forked tongue lashed out at her with a venomous hiss, making her mane deflate and hang limply over her shoulders. She cowered away from the creature before her, the entire world seeming to close in around her, robbing her of air as she shivered and whimpered.

“I-I’m sorry,” she squeaked, feebly. “I’m so-sorry. Please, please don’t lock me in the naughty cage. No, please! Anything but the cage!” The party pony was now experiencing a full blown mental break down that even Twilight Sparkle would be disturbed by. With a shrill scream of terror, Pinkie ran up the stairs in a blazing blur of pink fur and dust, the door to her bedroom slamming shut, almost splintering at the hinges.

The ponies downstairs looked toward the stairs in horrified awe. Never before had they seen Pinkie Pie, the most fun loving pony in all of Equestria, experience a moment of pure, unbridled, terror like that at such a display of disapproval. Not even when Gilda snapped at her, accusing her of pranking her all through the party she had prepared for her, and calling her the “Queen Lame-o”. All eyes fell upon the stallion, who seemed to be smirking to himself victoriously.

“Good riddance,” he sneered, darkly.

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Pinkie Pie sat alone in her bedroom in her flat above Sugar Cube Corner’s bakery and stroked her faithful companion, Gummy, as she cradled him against her chest. His smooth, sleek scales offered her comfort and security as she cuddled him, his misty eyes staring, unfocused, at the wall behind his owner. But the feeling of a cold, reptilian presence against her fur also awoke dark, unsettling memories for the party pony. Memories she wished she could forget. The day she discovered the real meaning behind her cutie mark.

Gummy let her hold him as she pleased, knowing all too well how much she needed this kind of affection. The first time he had experienced this need for affection was the day his owner had found him, cold and hungry under the bridge that stretched over the river through Ponyville market square. Gummy had been orphaned not long after hatching; his mother having been captured by poachers, and sold on the black market as sickening knick-knacks. Pinkie Pie felt like it was her responsibility to be a mother figure to the baby alligator, and often showered him in hugs and kisses, none of which he ever refused. But she also enjoyed the feel of his scales against her fur. The smooth, sleek feel of reptilian scales provided the pink party pony with a sense of comfort, albeit fitfully peppered with traumatising memories.

“Gummy? Would you notice if I were to disappear?” Pinkie lifted the alligator to look him in the eyes, as unfocused as his were. The derpy-looking reptile replied in the only way he could. He opened his jaw as wide as he could and gently snapped at his master’s muzzle, gumming her nose affectionately. The flat maned pony giggled a little, the sound seeming distinctly hollow to her own ears. “Thanks, Gummy.” Pinkie nuzzled her faithful pet gratefully, before holding up a gingerbread pony to his snout, allowing him to eat it from her hoof. As the alligator ate, Pinkie’s mind wondered to the stallion from downstairs, and the way he had spoken to her. Was he right? Did everypony only pretend to enjoy her parties because they felt like they were forced into attending them? Was she really a sad, lonely pony who wouldn’t have friends if she didn’t throw parties? The party pony looked down at her flank, inspecting the three balloons that adorned it. In particular, she scrutinised the yellow one the most. The day she earned her cutie mark… and the day, years later, that she realised its true meaning. Would nopony notice if she just up and vanished? Pinkie place her precious pet on her bed, tucking him up in his favourite blanket before making her way out of her room. There was only one pony she could turn to at a time like this. Twilight Sparkle.

Author's Note:

This fiction is for the Offcial KIRA: LIVING IN A KNIGHTMARE 2014 Contest

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The Raisin Spazz

The Raisin Spazz #1 · Oct 10th, 2014 · · ·

Cool story

TheMusicalBoy93

TheMusicalBoy93 #2 · Oct 10th, 2014 · · ·

5122851 Thank you. And thanks for the favourite

goaway

goaway #3 · Oct 10th, 2014 · 2 · ·

and I’ so happy

I'm.

such a moment of pure, unbridled, terror at such a display

Repetition of Such.

The word party gets used an awful lot, too, especially in repetitive bits such as calling Pinkie Pie the "party pony", or referring to guests as "party guests", so I'd try and trim a couple of those, too.

Overall, though, it's interesting and I enjoyed it. And I'd like to know who this evil stallion is that's upsetting Pinkie for (seemingly) no good reason.