My Little Pinkie

I lay on the floor in a foetal position, breaking down in heaps of uncontrollable sobs. I picked myself up and checked the mirror. Tears were running down my cheeks. I checked the time. 22:43. Time to call it a day. I checked myself. Still crying. I went to sleep and cried throughout the entire journey from the desk to my bed. Fell asleep. Soon I started crying in my dreams. Woke up. Brushed my teeth. Washed my face. I put on my pants, my clothes, and got ready to face the day. I checked myself in the mirror again. Finally stopped crying.

But not on the inside.

At first glance you might consider me as a big wimp, perhaps even a wussy. I mean, men don’t cry, right? Wrong! Men do cry. We cry after the birth of our babies. We cry after the death of our loved ones. We cry after finding out that our genitals are below the national average. In fact, we cry after a lot of things. But in terms of how much tears we shed, none can be compared to crying after reading sad MLP fanfictions.

And this time it was particularly sad.

On that day, I took a day off as I really needed a break to cheer myself up. Tried doing so by playing computer games, but to no avail. No matter how many victories I gained, there was still a numb, empty feeling in my heart. I inadvertently looked out of my bedroom window and saw a gigantic green patch among high-rise buildings. Ah, the park that I never thought existed. Maybe taking a short stroll would be able to raise my broken spirit.

The park was surprisingly empty. Joggers, bikers, little kids playing cops and robbers— all the essential features of a park were missing. People were nowhere in sight. Save for the chattering from birds perched on tree branches and the cacophony of frogs in the pond, the whole place was eerily silent. The desolate landscape had done nothing but further aggravating my sadness. Knowing that a stroll would be of little use, I turned back.

As I was about to leave the park, I heard a soft whimper coming from a bush.

I almost jumped.

I shook myself out of my momentary stupor. “Must be some stray animal,” I mused. I went to the bush and pulled the leaves apart. Got the shock of my life. There, in front of my very own eyes, was a pink ball of fur squirming uncomfortably in the mud, letting out soft, piteous whimpers.

It was Pinkie Pie, the mare from My Little Pony. The light-blue eyes, the all too familiar curly mane and the colour scheme, everything is reminiscent of the pink mare from My Little Pony. I rubbed my eyes, not believing what I was seeing. I wasn’t hallucinating at all. It was indeed real. I had in fact chanced upon one of the mane 6, something I had never thought would happen in a million years.

Without further ado, I freed the poor, helpless creature from the mud. Her adorable face captured my heart and managed to cheer me up immediately.

I contemplated bringing her home and raising her up. However, this is too good to be true, and she's going to return to her own world eventually. Sadness began to overwhelm me. Whatever future relationship we were forming, it would not be a permanent one.

Should I really adopt her? What if I ended up having Pinkie forcefully removed from my life? Will I be able to cope with the sadness? A million thoughts bombarded my mind.

First off, let me tell you about my life. I resided in the city that never sleeps, perhaps one of the most developed cities in the world. I was financially well-off, especially after inheriting everything from my parents after their death. Besides taking over the CEO position from my dad, they had also passed down to me one of the most valuable property asset in the whole of US— the penthouse suite of 432 Park Avenue.

And thus I lived my comfortable life of luxury without a care for the world, freely leeching off from my parents’ remaining wealth. Ever since my ascension to the CEO position, I had barely turned up for work and would often make important decisions indiscriminately. My poor leadership skills caused nothing but trouble and soon, the company was on the verge of bankruptcy.

I had absolutely no sense of direction in life. Luckily, My Little Pony managed to bring me back on track. Since then, I started working twice as hard in order to save my company from bankruptcy. I did so and in return, I gained much respect and recognition in the business world.

You might think that I led a pretty successful life. However, sometimes all the wealth in the world adds up to nothing. Truth is, if given the opportunity, I would willingly sacrifice my company to get back the love of my life. I was living an imperfect life of perfections. It’s hard to live a happy life when all your loved ones are six feet under.

Perhaps it is absurd to say that my life is a heavily flawed one. Who would not want to live a carefree life with everything available at one’s door-step? I was living such a life, having foie gras for breakfast, shark fin soup for lunch and whatever exotic food ordinary people can’t afford for dinner. However, not even the biggest gem in the world can beat a companion.

Every day I suffered in loneliness.

Now I finally had a companion. But this companion is never going to be a life-long one. Sooner or later she is going to return her to her own world. The sadness is bound to be too overwhelming for me to bear. Should I take her home, or should I not?

I finally made my decision and decided to bring her home. I couldn’t just leave her suffering in the mud. Poor thing was shivering, probably out of hunger and fear. I looked around and when the coast was clear, I quickly scooped up the pink ball of fur and tucked it into my shirt, praying that the bulge would not arouse any suspicion.

The way back to my apartment went pretty well. Some passers-by cast strange looks in my direction but lucky for me, nobody ever stopped to question me. I successfully made my way back to my unit. Upon entering the living room, I took Pinkie out and placed her on the table. The stench coming from her was unbearable and she was badly in need of a bath. After changing into clean clothes, I carried her into the bathroom to clean up.

Soon, I began the painfully slow process of scrubbing her clean. Her fur was caked with mud and it was with much difficulty that I washed them all off. Pinkie Pie was surprisingly cooperative and sat with minimum movement in the bathtub while I vigorously scrubbed the mud off her body with a soft sponge. After several minutes, I scooped her out of the bathtub. She was squeaky clean. I dried her with a towel and while doing so she gazed at me with painfully innocent eyes. She cocked her head at me, face full of curiosity. Then with her tiny hooves she grabbed my index finger, and seemingly entertained by it, broke into tiny, barely audible bursts of giggles.

To say that my heart exploded twice is an understatement. Never had I seen something more adorable than that in my life. Sure, MLP is a cute show with many cute characters. But to actually experience it in real life brings the cuteness to a whole new level. It was a good thing that I did not skip leg days often. For at that moment, I could feel my knees turning into jelly, threatening to collapse due to my body weight any moment. As you can see, I was a sucker for cute stuff, and such weapon-grade cuteness was too much for me to handle.

After regaining my composure, I’ve decided to have some fun with Pinkie Pie. I tried to find something suitable for her to play with. I search the house and found quite a few play stuff— old lego sets I used to play as a kid, some plastic balls, that’s all. Quite a pathetic toy collection. At that moment, I remembered the mane 6 plushies perched on my night stand. I entered my bedroom to get the plushies but before leaving the room, I took Pinkie Pie out of my plushie set and threw it into the dustbin. I didn’t need it anymore.

I took the remaining 5 plushies and put it beside Pinkie Pie and she started having a great time playing with them. I looked at her bubbly face, feeling a sense of satisfaction, thinking that I was quite a good dad.

Time flies. Before long, dusk came, enshrouding the entire sky with a warm, orange hue. I heard growling sounds coming from Pinkie Pie’s stomach. “Oh god… I’m a nincompoop!” I muttered under my breath. She had not eaten one bit ever since coming to my house! God knows how long that poor thing had stayed in the mud with neither food nor water. In an instant, I took off for the kitchen, hastily fixing up a meal not even fit for a peasant. “Sorry, Daddy promises to make better meals next time,” I said sheepishly as she wolfed down a bowl of crushed apples and soft potato chunks. Yucks.

After dinner, I tucked her to bed. While I wanted to sleep next to her, I was afraid of accidentally crushing her in the middle of the night. I made a temporary shelter out of an old shoebox and placed her inside. Before letting go of her, she grabbed my index finger again and without warning, she started snuggling it tightly while wrapping her tiny hooves around it.

I stood at my doorway, my left hand clutching my chest while my right hand grabbed the door frame as I tried to steady myself.

What a day! The loneliness I felt in the past 6 months after that fateful car accident was finally starting to subside. Her smiles alone could brighten up the gloomiest of days. Even her laughs were therapeutic. Life is going to be much better with Pinkie Pie by my side, I thought.

My spirits were high and for the first time in my life, I actually considered myself lucky. It’s every brony’s dream to meet MLP ponies in real life, let alone raising one up from foal stage.

However, one thing consistently bugged my mind. Regardless of whether I like it or not, Pinkie Pie would eventually be returned to Equestria. Afterwards no trace of Pinkie Pie would be left on the face of Earth.

When that happens, I’m going to lose another companion. It’s going to be that tragic car accident all over again.

Except this time, it would be twice the heartache.

Whatever short period of time I have with Pinkie, I’m going to cherish every minute of it.

I took a day off again and kept myself busy in the baby's department, buying all sorts of toys and accessories for Pinkie Pie. Books were of no exception as well. I had decided that the onus is on me to teach her how to speak and read English. Thus, I grabbed a bunch of simple books, threw them all into the trolley and headed for the counter.

From that day onwards, I commenced my strenuous task of raising Pinkie up.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Very soon, 12 months passed by.

It had been exactly 365 days since Pinkie Pie first came into my life. I decided to celebrate her 1st anniversary with a birthday party. Not a very big party, a party with just the two of us.

I planned to keep her busy in her playroom while preparing the party decorations and of course, the mouth-watering chocolate cake. That filly was going to get the first surprise in her life. I told her to stay in the room the whole day and she readily agreed.

Over the past 12 months, Pinkie Pie had changed quite a lot. Living a well-fed life under my shelter, she had gained a considerable amount of weight. Moreover, she had finally learnt to speak simple sentences and also acquired limited reading skills. I taught her how to speak a great deal of words during my free time. Surprisingly, she managed to ace most of them within a short period of time.

Pinkie Pie is smarter than some bronies give her credit for.

However, there’s one word that just seemed to stuck in her throat. Countless of times I mouthed the word “daddy” while pointing at myself, in an attempt to make her acknowledge me as her father. It failed terribly and she never managed to call me “daddy” for once.

That night, I escorted Pinkie Pie from her room, ready to give her the big surprise. Needless to say, she was truly amazed by the sight. Even I was impressed with myself. MLP stickers dotted the walls while vibrant-coloured confetti and party streamers were strewn on the floor. Elaborated cut-outs hung on the ceiling and the whole place was filled with the fragrance of cake.

The cake was the highlight of the party. It was dubbed the most delicious cake in the world and was specially prepared by a renowned pâtissière. Needless to say it cost me an arm and a leg.

But the radiant smile coming from Pinkie Pie as she gazed longingly at it makes everything worth doing.

Very soon we started stuffing our face with cake.

We sat on the couch. I gave her a tight embrace and whispered in her ears, “happy birthday sweetie.”

That’s when she said it. “I wuv yoo, daddy.”

“Time for bed, sweetie!” After hearing that, I quickly shooed her back to the bedroom and tucked her to bed. She had outgrown the shoebox for quite some time. Hence, I bought her a crib to sleep in.

I turned off the bedroom light, exited the room, opened the bathroom door, closed it, and inside the bathroom I finally poured out all my emotions.

I was crying and laughing at the same time.

If you were in my shoe, you would have understood how I felt when she finally acknowledged me as her father. The sense of pride and satisfaction was absolutely wondrous. For the first time in my life, I experienced the joy of fatherhood.

Ever since that day, She had developed a strong passion— maybe even an addiction— for parties. I bought surplus party supplies and spared some time every day, teaching Pinkie Pie on how to throw a party in an attempt to help her get her cutie mark.

On her fourth birthday, when she was old enough to play outdoors, I sold my apartment. With that money I bought a new house in the countryside area of New Jersey. Pinkie Pie was elated. It was the first time in her life outdoors, excluding the period of time before I found her, of course.

The isolated area had helped to conceal her and avoid detection from the outside world. From that day onwards, she would often be seen playing happily in the backyard. Sometimes I would take her to the woods during the weekends. However, ever since moving out from the city, the journey time to my office has more than doubled. To make matter even worse, with the rapidly increasing number of immigrants flocking into the city for job opportunities, the frequency of traffic congestions during peak hours had increased drastically. I was nonetheless satisfied with my decision— the country life was certainly much more carefree and idyllic.

Witnessing her growth in a father’s point of view was heartwarming to say the least. Some days were particularly awful, but whenever I trudged back home, Pinkie Pie would always be at the doorstep eagerly waiting for me. This brightens me up at once and a whole day of exhaustion would evaporated into thin air. Afterwards, I would fix dinner for the two of us and she would then share with me what she had done during the day. Besides her having a love for parties, I have also discovered her artistic flair. Sometimes after dinner she would present to me all her artworks on that day. Though I hate to admit it, her drawings were much better than mine when I was at her age. What made it even more embarrassing was the fact the she drew it only with her mouth.

After dinner, I would proceed on to tuck her to bed, often accompanied with one or two bedtime stories depending on how fast she fall asleep. Soon, this became a daily routine.

With her, every day is a day filled with inexhaustible fun.

Unfortunately, life is a roller coaster, and you never know when there would be twists and turns in your ride.

“Stop what you’re doing! Are you out of your mind?” Stacy screamed. Stacy was my secretary and at the same time, the most trustworthy employee in the company. I was on the rooftop of my office building, perched precariously on the ledge.

“So what if I jump down? I have nothing to lose!” I screamed back at her. Things had not been going well for me and the company was constantly losing money. The ever-increasing workload, accompanied with my ever-increasing stress, was slowly driving me insane.

“Oh yes, you have everything to lose! Have you considered how your loved ones would feel after this? Are you seriously that much of a selfish person?” she slowly inched towards me, extending her hand and beckoning me to get down. “Come down please, sir. For the sake of the company, do such foolish stuff.”

I snapped back to reality, finally coming to my senses. What an act of folly indeed! Had I not considered the effects of my poorly-thought action on others? There is still workers that need to be paid a living. Without me running the company, they would soon lose their jobs and would not be able to make end’s meet. There are still things in life that matter to me. Most importantly, there is still Pinkie Pie waiting eagerly at the doorstep for my return from work. I silently chided myself. Accepting her hand, I slowly made my way down, returned to my office, and in front of all my colleagues, broke down.

I took a half-day leave to save myself from further embarrassments.

What a day! I drove home with my mind full of heaviness, feeling more depressed than ever.

I trudged back to my apartment and forced myself to smile. No matter how the day went, I still had to put on a facade for Pinkie Pie. I opened the door and what I saw rendered me completely speechless.

Confetti and party streamers were strewn on the floor. A banner with the words “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” in gold was hung on the wall. I looked around in bewilderment as my mind tried to register the sight in front of my.

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Pinkie Pie cheered happily as she took out a slice of cake from the kitchen. It has being 9 years ever since our first encounter in the park and based on my assumption, she was already in her prepubescent stage. She had also grown tall enough to see my face without craning her neck.

That’s when realisation dawned on me. So hard was I working over the past few weeks that I had forgotten my own birthday! However, one thing still hung in my mind. How did Pinkie Pie know that today was my birthday?

I decided to ask her. “Pinkie Pie, since when did you know daddy’s birthday is today?”

“Since that time when you told me about it. Don’t you remember?”

“But… That was three years ago! How did you still remember my birthday?” I suddenly recalled her asking me for my birthday one time. Frankly speaking I didn’t take the question really seriously and since then it had been in the back of my mind.

“Of course I remember, silly!” She responded jokingly. “You’re my dad, after all.”

I broke down for the second time that day.

“Dad? Is there anything wrong with the party?” She asked, her ears drooping.

“No. It’s perfect. Thank you sweetie, thanks for everything.” I hugged her back in between sobs.

At this moment, something awesome happened.

Noticing something glowing, I opened my eyes and immediately backed off in surprise. Her flank was flickering with a certain sort of magical aura. After the magic had subsided, a permanent triplet of balloons was etched on the two sides of her flank.

“My cutie mark!” She cried ebulliently, staring at them in awe. I was feeling overjoyed. This was certainly a great day for the two of us. Not only had she finally found her life-long destiny, but she had furthermore done so on my birthday. Afterwards, we had a second party to commemorate another birthday— the birth of her cutie mark. When it was finally time for lights out, I had completely forgotten about everything that led to my suicide attempt.

I returned to my office the next day with a permanent smile plastered on my face, greeting everyone in the office as I walked past. Needless to say many were surprised at the stark contrast in my attitude. Some thought that I had finally lost it, and only I knew the reason behind my new-found optimism.

Soon, through everyone’s effort and determination, we turned the situation around and once again put the company back on track. Life was once again delightful and every day I lived the moments with Pinkie to the fullest extent. However, whilst spending quality time with Pinkie, there has always existed an irrational fear of Pinkie Pie disappearing from my life. Maybe Princess Celestia would pay a one-time visit to my abode for Pinkie's return and after that, the only thing that makes life worth living would be gone.

Little did I know that Princess Celestia would become the least of my worries…

I could still remember on that particular day, it was snowing torrentially. Christmas was coming soon and every families were busy preparing for the festive season. As usual, after waking up, I started preparing breakfast. I checked the calendar. It was exactly 15 years, 3 months and 2 days since Pinkie Pie first came into my life. I smiled and surveyed the christmas tree. It is a shared tradition between me and Pinkie Pie where we would decorate the christmas trees together. This year, I could not wait to do it once again with her. After laying the toasts and scrambled eggs on the plates, I called Pinkie Pie for breakfast, expecting the mare to come forward at once.

Silence.

I called again, this time much louder.

More silence.

I immediately sensed that something was amiss. I approached her bedroom and knocked on the door. She had grown old enough to sleep by herself. No response.

With a small tinge of apprehension, I slowly opened the door and peered inside.

The whole room was in a disarray. Books and plushies were strewn all over the place and at the centre sat Pinkie Pie, or should I say Pinkamena Diane Pie, for her once puffy curls were replaced with a straight, solemn mane. With her back facing me, she sniffed quietly.

“Are you alright, sweetie?” I asked her in a concerned tone.

She turned around. Her eyes was swollen, probably due to excessive crying. There was something held in her hooves. It was one of the story books I bought her when she was very young. However, the story was so boring that after reading it once, she has never touched it ever again. Since then she has forgotten the existence of this embarrassment to modern literature.

She pointed at a picture from the book. It depicted the protagonist and his parents having Thanksgiving dinner together.

I looked at the caption. “Every child has a mom and a dad, but few of them are lucky enough to have parents as awesome as mine.” Such bad writing. It is of no surprise that Pinkie Pie had initially reacted to it with much disgust.

“Dad… they said every child has a mom. Where’s mine?”

I was lost for words, unable to convey a legitimate response.

“You lied to me!” She suddenly lashed out violently, tears flowing down her cheeks. “You have been lying to me the whole time! Who are my real parents and what happened to them? Why did you keep all these secrets to yourself?” A wave of questions came crashing down at me.

“Sweetie, let me explain…”

“No explanation will do! You are not my real father, why should I listen to you?” She shoved me out of the room and slammed the door on my face.

That morning, I slowly ate my breakfast, a sense of despair hanging over me. It was the first time Pinkie Pie showed her rebellious side. She was the last pony I had expected to rail against me. Needless to say, I could not handle it well.

Having lost my appetite, I left my half-eaten breakfast on the table and headed to the garage.

I went to work with a heavy feeling. At the end of the day, my feeling of dejection had yet to subside. This time, I took the longer route home, stopping by a shop on the way.

Sugarcake Corner was the most renowned bakery in Manhattan. It is also the place I usually patronise in search of Pinkie Pie’s favourite cupcake— Chocolate Cinnamon Delight. The workers happily greeted me as I walked into the shop. It was christmas season, and the entire shop was filled with the sweet aroma of delectable log cakes and appetizing cupcakes. After selecting 12 of the finest Chocolate Cinnamon Delights in the shop, I made my order at the cashier counter. Soon, the cupcakes were wrapped in a gift package and I was ready to head home.

I entered the house, this time no longer expecting the all too familiar voice of an eagerly waiting Pinkie Pie. Despite having anticipated it before hand, I was still utterly disappointed. I knocked on her bedroom door. Again, there was no response. I slowly opened the door, thinking that she was bound to accept my apology cupcakes and everything will be resolved.

How wrong was I.

For there was not even a chance of apologising in the first place. Nobody was in the room.

I frantically searched every rooms in the house. It was useless. Pinkie Pie was nowhere to be seen. I returned to her room, feeling distraught and ready to inform the authority. At this juncture, I noticed a freshly written note on the table. With trembling hands, I took the note and began reading it:

Daddy,

If you’re reading this right now, chances are I’ve already ran away. I just want to say thank you for raising me up through your continuous love and support over the years. I’m sorry for being so harsh on you last night. I was way too angry, and would never have hurt your feelings like that. Will you ever forgive me?

I’ve never defied you throughout my whole life. This time it’s going to be an exception. I truly am sorry, but it is for our own good that I find my real parents as soon as possible.

All these years spent with you is probably the most rooftastic time of my life. I know you’re going to miss me. I’m going to miss you more. You are such an awesome dad and it is with much sadness that I write this note to you.

We may not be physically related. But deep in my heart, you’ll always be my daddy.

Love,
Pinkie

I choked in grief, crumbling up the note. Many tears were shed that night.

I opened my eyes and blinked. The sun was hanging high above the sky. Groggily getting myself up, I looked around. Nothing reminded myself of my own room.

That’s when the flashback last night resurfaced in my head. Without further ado, I hastily changed into a new set of clothing and ran out of the house. There was no time to lose. I have to search for Pinkie Pie! I could not imagine what some of the bronies would do if they find out about her existence. Worse still, she might fall into the hands of anti-bronies.

I drove around, asking everybody who passed by whether they have seen a pink pony around. The responses were less than satisfactory. When questioned, many of them either shrugged or threatened to call the cops.

As nighttime approaches, I wearily drove back home, utterly disappointed by the lack of progress. I tried again over the following days, but it was also to no avail.

After a week or so, I had completely given up hope. I thought of an alternative solution, and it was with much reluctance that I tried something I would never even think of doing before this.

“What do you mean my request can’t be processed?!” I hollered at the receptionist, my face purple with rage.

“I’m sorry, but you claimed to have lost a pink pony in your application form. This is absolutely absurd. I’m sorry, sir, but however much you pay, we would never broadcast it on TV. If you don’t mind, kindly leave the premises right now. Have a nice day, sir.”

The security guards soon came and asked me out.

“I hope you useless bastards never get laid!” I banged violently on the counter and stormed out of the building.

I was disheartened by the rejection. Looks like I have to continue the search.

Soon, it was Christmas Eve. Christmas lights decorated every household as laughter coming from children could be heard from miles away. Every folks were smiling and having a whale of a time together, for tis the season to be jolly.

Such irony.

I was seated on the couch, staring into infinite space. There was nothing to look forward to that night. No exchange of gifts. No Christmas Eve dinner. Worst of all, no Pinkie.

The warm, glowing light emitted from the furnace provided a stark contrast to my melancholy. Living alone is bad enough for me, but doing so on a Christmas Eve makes it 20 times worse. What’s the point of feeling joy, when there is nobody to share it with?

All the joy in the world now only exist the past.
“Merry Christmas to myself,” I muttered humorlessly as I bit into a slice of ham. I looked at the table and suddenly realised I made a mistake. Facing opposite to me, there was one more plate filled with food.

I really have to get used to the whole thing.

My heart was cold as ice, and no amount of firewood would be able to thaw it. On that cold wintry night, every houses were brightly-lit way till midnight.

Except mine.

A day after my depressing Christmas Eve, I sold my company to a reputable businessman for an enormous sum. From then onwards, I used all of my free time looking for Pinkie Pie.

6 months later, after having literally searched every cities in the state, there was still no traces of Pinkie Pie. By then, I had already giving up hope of her returning by herself. Without finding much purpose in keeping the house, I sold it as well.

And thus began my nomadic life, travelling from state to state with the hope of receiving news about Pinkie’s whereabout. As one would expect, I became the laughing stock wherever I go. Sometimes people would poke fun at me, calling me a “delusional brony who has lost his mind”. In more severe cases, people would just threaten to report me to the authority.

No matter how much insults and ridicules I suffered, I continued to move on, ignoring everything people say. Nothing is going to stop me from searching for the only thing that mattered in my life.

Days were spent searching furiously for Pinkie whereas nights were spent in deep thoughts, reminiscing all the good times I had with Pinkie Pie. These memories would often end up in me crying like a baby all over again. I often cried myself to sleep, and continued to cry in my dreams. When I wake up in the morning, the cycle repeats.

Every day I suffered in loneliness. Again.

Sometimes, my memory gets the better of me. I would make a breakfast of two and call Pinkie Pie down, only to be greeted by silence. Other times, when sanity is hard to keep, I would stay up all night, reading story books after story books to a bunch of pillows.

The chances of having her returning to my life is slimming by the minute. Despite this, not a single day had I considered giving up. As long as I remain on the face of earth, the search continues.

Sometimes, when the weather is particularly gloomy, my optimism would falter. When this happens, all sorts of bad endings would be conjured up in my thoughts. The pessimist in me would wonder whether it is still worth it at this point. It’s been so long. Surely Pinkie Pie would not be able to survive that long all by herself. Maybe she was dead the whole time.

Sometimes, the future seems bleak and devoid of hope.

But everyday above ground new miracles occur. This spurred me on to continue my mission to get back the only thing that mattered in my life. To get back my little Pinkie.

Even till today, I am still trying to find my little Pinkie, and doubt that I would ever stop till the day I drift off into infinite sleep...

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