Chapter 1

Pinkie Pie stepped into her bedroom, having said goodnight to everypony after her latest party. It was 3 am, and the last pony stumbled home not ten minutes previously. Pinkie looked into the mirror, her broad smile still on her face, and fell still. The smile faded, her eyes grew tired, and her very fur seemed to turn gray. She stepped into her bathroom and rinsed the hairspray out of her mane. The bouncy, wild curls shrunk, until her mane was a flat mass of wavy pink hairs. Even the color seemed to fade, and Pinkie stared at herself in the mirror.

“Another day, another party.” She reached up, dabbing at her hair with a towel. “Everypony had fun, and everything was a success.”

Pinkie didn’t even bother to wash the excess frosting from her hooves, or the strings of Silly Foam from her coat. Her cutie mark looked like a stain on her flank, but Pinkie didn’t care. She barely managed to get to bed, and didn’t bother to push back her blankets. As she rolled onto her back, her gaze wandered to the poster above her bed. It was a grinning pale green pegasus, wings open wide, and a caption across the top and bottom.

Hang in there! Read the top of the poster.

Everything is okay!

Pinkie stared up at the cheesy grin. Her eyes grew cloudy and unfocused, and the weight on her chest returned. She felt as if her lungs had been filled with sand, and her veins stuffed with lead.

Pinkie had put up the poster long ago, when she left the rock farm and found that she couldn’t seem to sleep without Maud. She couldn’t push away the empty feelings without Maud. So, she put up the happy poster. And it worked for a while.

But after the hundredth time she looked at it when she was at her lowest, when she used that grinning pegasus to fix her own horrible feelings of dread, the feelings began to become associated with that broad grin. Those green wing feathers made Pinkie’s chest tighten, and suddenly she couldn’t seem to breathe. But some part of her didn’t really care. Some part of her wished she could just stop breathing all together.

Pinkie rolled onto her side, her watery eyes focusing on the photo of her and Maud on her nightstand. It was taken on the day she had received word that she could move in with the Cakes in Ponyville. Pinkie’s mane was naturally wild in those days. Her hair curled and bounced in every direction, and her grin wasn’t fake in that photo. Maud was staring at the camera, her face stoic, but Pinkie could see the smile in her eyes.

“Keep it together, Pinkie,” she whispered to herself. “You’re the happiest pony in Ponyville. You have a job to do, and you can’t be like this tomorrow. It’s Rainbow’s birthday party.”

“But you will be like this tomorrow,” the little voice in her head challenged. “You’re like this every day, Pinkie. And you can’t even be brave enough to talk about it.”

Pinkie’s eyes filled with tears, but she was too weak to blink them away. She just stared at Maud’s photo, her gaze focused on the smile in Maud’s eyes.

“Maud, I don’t know what to do without you.” Pinkie felt the tears slipping down her cheeks. “You were always so good at chasing away the bad feelings. You always knew what to say to make me smile.” Pinkie’s voice broke, and she sniffled softly. “I miss you so much.”

Pinkie reached out with a hoof to touch the photo. The memories of the day Pinkie left floated through her thoughts. Maud’s final words whispered in her ear as they hugged goodbye rang in her ears.

“Remember, Pinkie, you are the bravest pony I know, but sometimes even the bravest ponies need help. Don’t be afraid to ask for it.” Pinkie stared at Maud’s photo, and rolled over to face the wall.

“Well, the symptoms you’re describing sound an awful lot like depression.” Twilight closed her book, looking up at Pinkie. “I don’t know what pony you’re talking about, but I’m sure you could help them! After all, you’re the happiest pony in Ponyville. If anyone can help battle depression, it’s the resident Ponyville Super Party Pony Pinkie!”

The lead in Pinkie’s veins ached, and her eyes drifted out of focus once again. The chill in the air wasn’t lost on Pinkie, between her damp mane and her thin fur. Sugar Cube Corner made enough money to afford magical cooling, and the Cakes often left it on accidentally after hours.

Pinkie didn’t have the energy to lift her blankets over her body, so the cold seeped into her very bones. It numbed the aching in her hooves from the hours of dancing and partying she had partaken in. It numbed the emptiness in her chest, and the throbbing headache she had accumulated from the loud music of the party.

Pinkie sometimes thought of going to a doctor. She thought of asking what was wrong with her. Pinkie was supposed to be the happiest pony in Ponyville, and yet she couldn’t seem to shake the empty feelings in her chest. She had gotten very good at putting on a happy act, of course. She had to. But she couldn’t make herself actually feel happy. No matter how much she partied, or how much frosting she ate, or how many cupcakes she baked. She couldn’t shake the sensations of dread, and aching emptiness.

Pinkie stared in silence at her wall, until her eyes finally drifted closed of their own accord. She had to get at least a few hours of sleep before Rainbow’s birthday party. She had a strange sense that something about the party was going to be off, but she couldn’t quite place it.

She pushed the thoughts away. Being happy was hard enough without being even more sleep deprived and troubled than normal. Pinkie sighed, the sand in her lungs growing a little lighter at the thought of spending the day with her friends, and her thoughts drifted.

Sometimes she thought whimsically of waking up in the morning completely cured, and never having to feel the cold emptiness in her heart again. But some part of her always reminded her that she would never be free from the emptiness. If she never asked for help, she would never get it. But she could never bring herself to do it. Something in her always thought that she was just a little down, and if she stayed strong, it would all go away. Something in her thought that she was just being dramatic, and that all ponies felt like this, so why should she act all "woe is me" and make everypony else deal with her problems?

Pinkie drifted off to sleep, tears still slipping down her face and the foul taste of guilt on her tongue.

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