• Published 30th Dec 2017
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Bringing Back The Laughter - Flutterpriest



Pinkie Pie has Passed away. After the funeral, the ponies of Ponyville put it upon themselves to bring a little party and laughter to their quiet town.

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Chapter 8 - Alex_ - Nopony

Laughter is dead, and now nothing will ever be the same again.

Of course, that’s not saying much, as every second comes before the last, and the entire world is always, indefatigably, changing.

But now, somehow, it feels like something more has been lost. In the instant Pinkie Pie died, it was not like the passage of every other second, merely dutifully following the one before; but instead it felt as though the universe had broken through into new and unplanned territory. Surely it could not have been Pinkie Pie’s destiny to die - what sort of universe would allow for that? I cannot believe it. I will not believe it.

If Eternity can, just like that, turn the murderer and kill of any of us, what meaning does anything - even my life - hold? Pinkie was beloved by all; she strived each and every day to bring a smile to those around her; and if she can be taken by some accident of chance then why do any of us even endeavour to be good? Or bad? Or anything? It could all be so cruelly snatched away.

I feel numb. I can’t believe that Pinkie was born to die, and yet it all seems so clear in front of me. It makes no sense to talk of what ‘could have been’ or ‘ought to have been’... only one thing has been, and that is all. We cannot deviate from the past.

Are any of my actions even my own? If Pinkie was born to die, then maybe Twilight was born to be a princess, Applejack was born to lose her parents, and I was born to stand here and wonder about my place in the world. I look around. Everything seems so cheap and superficial. I stop and think. Oh Celestia, even my thoughts don’t feel like my own.

No, no, this is no way to go on. I could go mad following this path. There has to be a reason for everything we see; otherwise, why are we here? But what reason could allow Pinkie to die like this? Not any reason I can see.

Why was Pinkie so stupid as to mess around with that cannon? I’m sure she’d been told before to be careful. But she would always laugh and smile, maybe sing a song, and everyone would stop caring. Why did nopony stop her? Why did nopony care enough to interject?

Celestia, I’m just full of questions, but I must share some parcel of the blame. Why didn’t I say anything? I was at the party. I could have involved myself. I could have helped. Why was I so timid?

What if I had told her just to be careful? Or not to use that thing indoors? But nopony ever contradicted her: she was Pinkie Pie, the party itself. But maybe my saying something would have stopped her from being so foolish. If only I’d approached her, we could be laughing now, probably at one of her afterparties, or an after-afterparty. But instead she’s dead.

And why did nopony else do anything, or say anything? Twilight is supposed to be the Princess of Friendship. What was she doing when all this happened? In fact, why were all of her friends standing idly by while she played with that thing? Why am I blaming myself when they were the ones who should have most protected her?

I pause. I expect to feel angry, but I don’t. I just feel… empty. Like I’ve been purged of the tumult of emotions that Pinkie’s death had thrown on me. I exploded and now I’m empty, like a… cannon.

I know Pinkie’s friends are not responsible for her death. I know I am not, and neither is she. Then who is? Nopony. And with Nopony to direct my anger at, and Nopony as the villain of the situation, I am left with this horrible feeling. The universe isn’t fair. I try to be angry, and tell myself what happened happened because of an evil pony, or some malign magical force - but it just isn’t true.

Suddenly, this emptiness is all-consuming, like a sinkhole opening inside of me. I feel giddy. This world around me, that I have been told was my oyster, and has ostensibly nurtured and protected me since I was a foal, killed Pinkie. It seems a little more grey now. But I can’t be angry at it, like I was before: it is only following its predetermined course. The world doesn’t choose who lives and who dies; Nopony does. We are all like rocks, rolling down a hill, with no choice what we crush or whom we maim, and no way of stopping ourselves from landing at the bottom and splintering into shards and dust. I want to lay down and cry.

Is my life come to this? Pinkie is dead, and yet I am the one crying. My hoof before my face feels foreign. Outside, the wind blows. I hear the trees groan and there is such anger. Then it stops.

In some small way, I think to myself, there is something absurd about this. Here am I, curled and hidden against the mighty face of the world. What am I hiding from? The world which was when Pinkie was alive still is, and will be forever. Laughter is dead, but nothing has changed. Do I think, that by hiding myself within myself, I can escape death? I only thing I will escape is life.

There is something so funny about this that I laugh. Maybe it’s odd in the situation, but it feels so right. It feels liberating. For those few seconds I feel like I am standing on the edge of some immortal knowledge, looking down upon the world.

Laughter is dead, but laughter is not dead. What Pinkie gave us still exists, and even from generation to generation it will remain. Though she is not there to bring us joy, others are. And if I only sit here, railing against the world, Laughter is truly dead in both body and in spirit.

With this, I stand up, and walk to the window. It is the daytime, and almost a week, I think, has passed. I walk out the door and feel the world’s air on my back and face… but it feels lighter than usual. Today is Pinkie’s funeral, and I intend to make sure she is remembered as she would wish to be.