Short Stories Collection, vol. I

by fallen starr

Useless [Sad]

She knew it was useless. It didn’t matter. After all, who really needed a cutie mark in party throwing. No pony took her seriously or thought she knew anything. Even her friends laughed at most everything she said. She looked in the mirror, examining her cutie mark.

Maybe it isn’t as useful as Twilights or as cool as Dashie’s, but it’s still my cutie mark. I can’t help that. It chose me, not the other way around.

Pinkie frowned at her reflection. It was a useless mark for her to have. What good did it do? Throwing parties that no pony wanted in the first place wasn’t a great skill. It was just an annoyance. That’s all she was. Annoying.

Random. Pinkie’s brow furrowed at that thought. Dashie was always calling her random. Was that a good thing? She’s just being Pinkie Pie. Maybe Twilight didn’t mean that in an endearing way. Maybe Twilight meant everyone should ignore her because she was being stupid.

No, stop it. Your friends love you. She glared at her reflection. You’ve been through this. Your friends want you happy. So what if Fluttershy yelled at you and called you mean things. That doesn’t matter.

Pinkie squeezed her eyes closed to keep the burning at bay. “I will not cry,” she whispered to herself. “Fluttershy didn’t mean it.”

The tears didn’t care what she said or did as they dripped down her cheeks. She looked back into the mirror. Why? Why can’t I be more like Twilight or or or just somepony else. She slumped down to the floor, covering her face with her hooves. “Why,” she whispered.

She pressed her hooves to her eyes to try to stop the flow of tears. Go on Pinkie, you’ve realized just how useless you are. Got a party for that? She didn’t know how long she lay on the floor. It could have been minutes or hours before the hoofsteps pricked her ears.

Her bedroom door swung open. Mrs. Cake stood in the doorway, her forehead wrinkled with concern. “Pinkie? Sweetie?”

Pinkie watched through the mirror as Mrs. Cake entered the room and walked over to her. She had to squeeze her eyes to fight the tears again as Mrs. Cake began stroking her mane. “What’s wrong?” Pinkie shook her head, turning away from Mrs. Cake. “Please talk to me.”

Pinkie sighed and sat up. She couldn’t bring her eyes to meet the worry in the eyes of Mrs. Cake, so she looked at her hooves. “I just realized some things about myself.” Her throat was raw from crying, making her voice low and raspy. “I’m not a very useful pony, am I?

"What?” Mrs. Cake asked, her eyes widening. “Of course you are dear. You help Carrot and I here in the shop, you’re always there when somepony needs you, and you know exactly how to put a smile on anypony’s face.” Mrs. Cake smiled, placing a hoof under Pinkie’s chin so she would look up and see. “You are a very special pony, Pinkie Pie.”

Pinkie’s lips twitched before she shook her head and looked down again. “I just throw parties. It’s such a useless talent to have.”

“Pinkamena Diane Pie.” Pinkie’s head snapped up, looking Mrs. Cake in the eye. Her full name in that tone was only used when she was in trouble.“In all my years…When we found you as a young filly of eight, do you think we once thought ‘Oh, she’s going to be such a useless mare?”

“Of course not, but—”

“And do you think that when we asked you to work for us at the bakery, we thought you wouldn’t do good?”

“No, but—”

“Then why would you think you are useless?”

Pinkie swallowed. “I just…am.”

“Pinkie.” Mrs. Cake sighed, brushing a stray bit of mane from Pinkie’s face. “Listen to me. If it wasn’t for you, the town would have been taken over by parasprites. If it wasn’t for you, Twilight Sparkle may have never stayed in Ponyville. If it weren’t for you…” Mrs. Cake smiled, wrapping her hooves around Pinkie. “I would not have a daughter.”

Pinkie looked up at Mrs. Cake, who was smiling at her. Her eyes filled with tears again, but this time Pinkie didn’t try to stop it. She pressed her face into Mrs. Cake’s coat. “I love you, Pinkie.”

“I love you, too,” Pinkie said.

Slowly, a grin spread across her face.