How to be Happy

by Leafdoggy

Chapter 4: Silence and Uproar

“Pinkie, wait!”

Fluttershy swooped down in front of Pinkie and skidded to a stop in the middle of the street. Pinkie nearly slammed right into her, but managed to stop herself just in time.

“Why’d you follow me?” Pinkie couldn’t bring herself to look at Fluttershy, and instead looked down at their hooves.

“Pinkie, you can’t just run off like that! What’s going on?” Fluttershy stepped forward, wiped the mud covering her hoof onto her other leg, and then reached up to pull Pinkie’s gaze to her.

“What do you mean, what’s going on? You heard her!” Pinkie tensed up more and more as she spoke. “She wanted to hurt me!”

“She’s…” Fluttershy shook her head. “I’m not saying that’s okay, but you know how you could get when it got really bad.”

“I—” Pinkie looked away and got much quieter. “I was getting better, though.”

“You were,” Fluttershy agreed, “but she’s… It’s bad, Pinkie.”

Lightning flashed in the sky overhead.

“I never thought I actually hated myself.”

“I don’t think she hates you.”

“She does! She thinks she’s gonna feel that way forever, and it’s my fault!”

“It’s not your fault, Pinkie.”

“It is, though.” Pinkie sniffed and scratched anxiously at one of her legs. “She’ll never be happy again cuz I stole all the happy away from her.”

“Happiness doesn’t work like that,” Fluttershy told her. “We don’t know that—”

Pinkie interrupted her. “Come on, Fluttershy, don’t be stupid.”

Thunder boomed from somewhere far away.

As soon as the word left her mouth, Pinkie gasped and covered it with a hoof. Her ears drooped as she watched Fluttershy flinch away from the harshness in her voice.

“I-I didn’t mean it,” Pinkie whimpered through her hoof. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay, Pinkie,” Fluttershy said. She was staying calm, but she was noticeably quieter than before. “We’re all stressed. Please, just come back to the house so we can all sleep and cool down without worrying about each other. This will all be easier in the morning.”

“I…” Pinkie looked down at the ground and shrank away from Fluttershy. “Mm-hm.”

Neither of them talked as they walked back to the cottage. They moved slowly, not because they wanted to stay out but because neither of them could bring themselves to break pace and speed up. Every so often Fluttershy tried to move closer to Pinkie, to cover her with a wing or make some other kind gesture, but every time Pinkie shied away.

They walked into the house soaked and muddy, and Fluttershy was suddenly very thankful that she’d forgotten to put the towels away. They dried themselves off in silence as the storm raged outside.

Pinkamena had fallen asleep on the sofa. Every few minutes she’d shiver or let out a little cry, so Fluttershy dug out a spare blanket and laid it gingerly over her. Then Pinkie and Fluttershy got ready for bed themselves.

As they stood in Fluttershy’s bedroom a few minutes later, Pinkie hesitated.

“Um…” She whispered as quietly as she could.

Fluttershy looked over at her with a worried expression. “Hm?”

“I think… I think I’m gonna go sleep in the chair out in the living room.”

Fluttershy let out a sad hum. “You don’t have to do that, Pinkie.”

“I know,” Pinkie replied, “I just… I wanna be alone for a bit.”

“You sure?”

Pinkie nodded.

“Alright,” Fluttershy said. She leaned forward and kissed Pinkie on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too…” Pinkie couldn’t bring herself to look at Fluttershy, and so instead turned towards the door. “Goodnight, Fluttershy.”

“Mm-hm,” Fluttershy replied. “Sleep well.”

Pinkie stepped out into the dark living room and shut the door quietly behind her. At this point, the only light was from outside, and with the weather as it was, that was very little. She made her way by touch over to a closet where they kept spare blankets, occasionally aided on her path by a bolt of lightning that lit the room, and then crawled into the big, deep armchair and curled up. She pulled the blanket over her head and, before long, drifted off into a fitful slumber.

Her dreams brought her someplace bleak but familiar. The hard-packed earth under her hooves was gray, which was matched by the gray rocks that towered around her, and the gray wood of the walls that made up her childhood home. Even the sky was mostly without color, marked only by a far-off gash of desaturated pink that tore into it like a fresh wound.

As she walked towards her home, it seemed to grow wildly in front of her, and before long it was just as big as she remembered it being when she was a filly.

The door opened as she walked up to it. Behind it stood her big sister, now a full-grown adult.

“Limestone?” Pinkie asked. Her voice came out tiny and shrill.

“What are you doing here?” Limestone gave her a disgusted look. “You hate us, remember?”

“W-What? I don’t hate you!” Pinkie whined pitifully. “Why would you think that?”

“Our real sister told us the truth.” Limestone moved to the side, and past her Pinkie could see Pinkamena at the kitchen table, just as young as she was, sitting with her head in her hooves.

“No…” Pinkie started to tear up. “That’s not true! I don’t hate you, why would she say that?” She tried to run inside, but Limestone stopped her with an outstretched leg, so she just called out. “Why, Pinkamena?”

Inside, Pinkamena jumped at hearing her name and looked towards the door. When she saw Pinkie, her eyes went wide and she scrambled out of her chair. “Pinkie! Pinkie, please, I—”

Before she could say anything more, Limestone slammed the door in Pinkie’s face.

“Wait, no!” Pinkie pounded on the door desperately. “Please, I don’t hate you!”

She heard no reply, though, and was left crying at the doorstep.

On the other side of the door, things were different. The house was dark, lit only by the light that came in through the windows, but it was also full of noise. Maud could be heard writing furiously into her diary, Marble’s soft cries echoed out of her room and through the home, and the thin walls did nothing to stop the arguments of Ma and Pa as they fought over which daughter to keep.

Pinkamena heard all of this, and now she could hear Pinkie, too, pounding on the door and begging to be let inside.

“Pinkie, please, it’s not true!” Pinkamena tried yelling and pounding back, but Pinkie couldn’t seem to hear her. “I would never say that!” She tried to jump up and open the door, but the handle was just out of her reach.

“Just leave her there,” Limestone said coldly. “Let her cry, it’ll never be as bad as what she did to our family.”

“How can you say that?” Pinkamena tried to shove Limestone, but the much bigger pony didn’t move. “She’s your sister!”

“You’re my sister. We don’t need her anymore.”

“Can’t you love us both?”

“I can hardly stand one of you.”

Pinkamena gasped and bit into her leg to stifle a cry.

Once her lip stopped quivering, she ran into the kitchen and around one of the light wooden chairs. Its size made it awkward, but she started to push it towards the front door.

“Quit making a mess,” Limestone told her. Pinkamena ignored the command.

Once it was close enough, she climbed up onto the chair and stood on her hind legs. Just barely, she was able to grab onto the handle, and without waiting she pulled the door open.

Except, it didn’t move.

Pinkamena looked around, trying to figure out what was happening, and saw Limestone standing beside her with a hoof holding the door shut.

“I said to leave her outside,” Limestone said.

“She’s our sister!”

Limestone laughed. “Please, you hate her more than any of us.”

“That’s not true!”

“No?” Suddenly, Limestone kicked the chair out from under Pinkamena and left her dangling from the handle. “Well, if you don’t hate her, why don’t we let you decide what happens to her?”

“W-What?” Pinkamena kicked her hind legs, trying to find some purchase, but she only managed to make herself start to slip.

“Just hold on,” Limestone told her. “Don’t let go, and she can come in.”

Pinkamena could already feel her legs burning as she struggled to hold herself up. “F-For how long?”

Outside, Pinkie was still banging on the door and yelling up a storm. Every pound shook the door, and every little shake made Pinkamena’s grip worse.

“Well, once nightfall hits I’ll have to go make sure the rest of the doors and windows are shut so the timberwolves don’t get in. I’ll definitely let go then.” Limestone shrugged. “Don’t think I’m gonna let you climb up there again if you fall, though.”

Pinkamena struggled to readjust her grip on the handle. “T-Timberwolves?”

“Well, yeah,” Limestone said, “can’t just let them come inside. I’d hate to be stuck out there when they show up.”

Pinkamena swallowed hard. “You can’t! You have to let her in!”

“After what she did to us? To you?” Limestone scoffed. “She deserves it.”

“No!” Pinkamena clenched her eyes shut and flailed around. “You’re wrong!”

Limestone rolled her eyes, then knocked on the door. “Hey, Pinkie?” She called out, and Pinkie stopped her pounding. “We’ll let you in if Pinkamena gives us the okay, but uh, good luck convincing her.”

Outside, Pinkie’s begging picked back up with double the fervor. “Please, Pinkamena,” she cried, “I didn’t want this! Let me take it back! Hate me, hurt me, whatever you want, just don’t leave me alone!”

Pinkie slammed into the door desperately, and one of Pinkamena’s hooves slipped off the handle. “No!” Pinkamena struggled to reach back up, but she couldn’t get her hoof high enough. “Please, Limestone!”

“I’m giving her more than she deserves already.”

Pinkamena made another failed grab with her free hoof, then let out a sob. “Marble! Maud!” Pinkamena cried out with everything she had. “Please, help me! Anypony!”

“They won’t come,” Limestone said. “They don’t want Pinkie here, either. She ruined your life, Pinkamena! Just forget about her!”

Suddenly the noise around the house quieted, and the stairs creaked as somepony started to descend them.

“Well,” the pony said, “I find that one’s life is rarely as ruined as they believe.”

“Huh?” Pinkamena struggled to look back, but couldn’t manage to do so.

“You can let go,” the pony told her. “It’s only a dream.”

“I can’t let go! Pinkie will—” Pinkamena processed what she’d heard. “A dream?”

The friendly, smiling face of Princess Luna came up beside Pinkamena. “A nightmare, to be more exact.”

“But what about—” Pinkamena started, but when she turned to her other side, Limestone was nowhere to be seen. “I-I still don’t want to let go,” Pinkamena said. “I mean, what if you’re wrong?”

Luna chuckled. “If it were not a dream, I could not do this.” With a flick of her hoof, the world around them sucked itself away into nothingness, and they were left in a dark, endless void. Everything was gone, the gray ground, the gray sky, the gray house, everything but Luna, Pinkamena, and Pinkie, who were both adults once more.

Pinkie stopped yelling out as Pinkamena dropped out of the air in front of her. They caught each others’ eyes, then both looked away.

Luna blinked. “I—” She looked back and forth between them several times. “Two?”

Pinkamena pursed her lips and looked up at Luna. “Oh, um… We kind of had an accident.”

“An accident.” Luna looked at them skeptically.

Pinkie nodded slowly and wiped tears from her eyes. “We’re not really sure what happened, but I’m Pinkie, and… She’s Pinkamena.”

“And you were sharing a nightmare?”

They both shrugged.

Luna scratched the back of her neck. “I must admit, this is new for me.”

“Well, um, thank you for stopping it,” Pinkamena said.

“Yes…” Luna looked around indistinctly. “I’m supposed to help you more, though, but I’m not entirely sure how to pick apart a single nightmare for two different ponies.” She thought for a moment, then waved a hoof and brought them someplace familiar, around a table at Sugarcube Corner. “Well, what do you think the nightmare was about?”

“Um…” Pinkamena hummed.

“I have no idea,” Pinkie said. “It just sucked.”

Pinkamena nodded. They both seemed a lot more at ease after the change in venue.

Luna looked between them. “Well… What’s on your mind?”

“A lot,” Pinkamena said, and Pinkie nodded in agreement.

Luna sighed. “Okay, uh… Start from the top.” She pulled a notepad out of the air and started to write on it. “Tell me everything that’s happened since this ‘accident’ you had.”

“Everything?” Pinkie asked.

“We have all night,” Luna told her. “More nights, if we need them. I have a feeling this is going to take a while to unpack.”