Introspection

by -Hidden Identity-

Wishful Thinking

The sky had turned from its static blue to a metallic grey. A chilly wind, usually reserved for the month of harvest, had swept down from some unknown height to caress the landscape of Pinkie’s joyous mind. The trees bid farewell to orange leaves and failing branches, the birds had gone, and no sweet morsel was to be found upon the barren ground as the earth pony strode along someplace she had known all too well and yet had never dreamed of. This place, her mind, stood cold and solemn; the tall walls of stone limited her movements as she moved along. Fear was not present, nor was anxiety. She knew that if she traveled back the path she had set upon there would be green grass, a vivid, blue sky with pink bubbles, flowers and candy playing with her sense of smell, and all manner of surfaces to bound upon for her own enjoyment. Her mind wished her to be happy, to return to her realm of comfort and peace. Yet the dark path before her existed within her for a reason she always knew and could not speak if she tried. There was no gravel here, nor grass, but a path of clean, flat shale. Her hooves played with sound as they clopped along the ground, the walls enjoying the symphony echoed them across. Pinkie paid no heed. She replayed her journey here through her mind: an imaginary friend helped her along. She met and made amends with her first sister by apologizing, suffering through a maze of wonder and shattered thought with the next, and finally freeing her mother from a sense that she had been failed. Her father remained. Having experienced the feelings of her family, it was clear that the final redemption could be anything. Yet for a figure as static and stoic as her father, it was a fair assumption that the challenge would not be, when she encountered it, completely unexpected in its nature.

The grey walls loomed, silent and watching, above her: a drop of color in a sea of flavorless emotion. The echoes had, by this time, become bored with resounding the same repeated sound, and had left do find something else. She was alone in the silence, a feeling that even here she was unfamiliar with. In Pinkie’s world, the true world, she had her friends. Within her ever-confusing mind she had the regrets of loved ones and her own internal pleasures. This seemed enough to keep her entertained, perhaps for eternity. Yet it would be impossible to know if this was enough for eternity without having experienced it herself. Of course, she had experienced eternity, but that is a story for another time.

The canyon she wandered within began to shrink, the meaningless cliffs slowly growing closer. This was not lost upon Pinkie, who dropped her stupor and began to trot, anticipating the end of the canyon, and perhaps her journey. Each length passed reminded her of some struggle that she had overcome, somehow. It did not matter where, just that it had happened. Whether it was nothing more than saying she was sorry, to stopping Discord and wielding the Elements of Harmony. As the walls closed in, the achievements became greater, until it was a struggle to even pass them, as if she walked upon some challenge or pattern that did not wish her to pass. Yet…at last!

“Pinkie.”

“Dad.” There was no surprise in her tone. She had known that upon reaching the end of the canyon, whose walls had just ended behind her, she would face her final challenge here: her father. Her father who never quite understood her, why she was different from her sisters, why she didn’t enjoy rock farming, why she would leave the family to live the life of a fool. Any one of these could summon a redemption and freedom from regret, yet this was her mind and everything that she had gone through told her it would not nearly be that simple, that this would be far different from the others, and the greatest challenge she had to face: her father, the master of the household, and the one who seemed to have disowned her upon leaving. Pinkie took a moment to examine their surrounding: a wide, round area with the canyon behind them. Something dark lay behind her father, and a white void beyond that. The sky had ended, the world had ended, and this was the finish line. For, as much as she dreaded the thought, this was a race that she had been running this whole time, against time itself. Upon her entry into this world and the warning from a dark moment in her past, she knew that second was not an option. It was in her nature to love a good competition, a good game, but the stakes ran a bit high for her liking.

“How’s it going, Dad?” Pinkie smiled. Her elder did not humor her. It was then that she noticed the key draped upon her Dad’s neck. “What’s that key to?”

“Surely you can guess.” The droning voice replied.

“Um….our house?”

“Everything is a joke. You can’t take anything seriously, and that’s where you fall. How do you expect to survive in a world that demands hard work?”

“I have my friends, and a job making sweets, and everything I could want!” Pinkie smiled again. “You know Dad, my life is actually very nice!”

“Then why are we talking?”

“I had hoped you would tell me.”

A low, unforgiving chuckled somehow worked its way out of a mouth that hadn’t smiled in far too many years.

“I’ll tell you what. We have much to work out, and much to do. Come visit me sometime and we will talk about it. I love you, Pinkie, and for that reason I cannot see a daughter of mine live with regret. We do not see eye to eye, and I figure I hold some fault in that as well. I will tell you what you need to know for right now. You did not lead a stoic life.”

Pinkie blinked. “A what?”

“A stoic life.”

Pinkie thought back over the list of words Twilight used that she didn’t know…it wasn’t on there. “So I didn’t pack well?”

“What?”

“I didn’t stow anything right?”

“No…Pinkie…”

“Or perhaps stewic? A stewish life?”

“Pinkie…”

“Or perhaps it’s a-stoic, where I’m not stoic.”

The father began to speak, thought the last comment through, and pull his comment back within himself. “Yes, you did not lead a stoic life. You didn’t live simply, basically; you simply went away and did whatever you wanted.

“Oh...ok. I guess I was a bit off.” She giggled.

“Yes, you were. Anyway, I suppose you would like this here key?”

“If it lets me out, I would!”

“Out of this place, anyway. You know that I’m not going to just hand it over. You lived under my roof long enough that you know that to get anything you must put your hooves to work, and hard! So get that pink mane out of your eyes and harvest me some rocks!”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait I thought we were going to do something about the showmic life?”

“You will learn that, but not from me. I believe the third will teach you that.”

“The third?”

“All in good time, Pinkie. Now, I need to know that you can still work hard, or else there is no point in letting you go on. Harvest the rocks.”

“Oki doki loki!” Pinkie smiled and bounced over a large pile of rocks that she had not noticed previously. Perhaps it hadn’t been there until now. Or perhaps she hadn’t let herself see it until now. Either way, rock farming was part of her, and always would be.

By the time the earth pony had finished the tedious task her mane had fallen flat. One, two and four swishes of the head and it regained its standard style. Rock farming was part of her, always would be, and now a prize could be associated with it. A good memory of this place. Memories…how were memories kept here? Perhaps a gallery with grandiose murals and diagrams of all the things she had done to be on display for her amusement? No, that wasn’t her. Rarity, maybe, but not her. More likely there was a cake or some other treat set out and decorated so that it complimented the tone and setting of the event in question. That seemed about right. The sky began to fade away slowly, a phenomenon her father took note of, but Pinkie, still envisioning memory cakes, or cakories, hmm…no that didn’t work, had not yet taken notice of.

“Pinkie!” her father called as he began to fade away, “I’m sorry this wasn’t the thrilling finale you may have been hoping for, but not everything here had to get harder. The real challenge is still to come, and things will get harder! Trust your father on that! We didn’t lie to you! Quickly, get to the…” and he was gone.

The key had fallen to the ground, shimmering dully in the light of the collapsing day. Here, at the fringes of thought and mental capacity, the world, for whatever reason was slipping away. The wind picked up, voices carried upon it reached her, carving words into the canyon walls behind her.

“Pinkie, are you feeling any better?” Twilight.

“Come on Pink, you’re always there for us. Look, I brought you a care package.” Dashie…

“Ahm worried sick, y’all. I mean…” Worried about what? The key!

Pinkie raced over, clamped her mouth down on the key and nearly fell into the patch of darkness she now discovered was a hole. She stepped into it, and found that it accepted her, as she stepped onto flat ground, with a cliff of the world falling away behind her. She could see the vertical words of Fluttershy being etched into the rock, yet the words upon the wind did not reach her. She walked forward, cautiously, taking care not to miss anything. It was an unnecessary risk as the door loomed before her, a ponderous and forbidding slab of rotting wood with an iron handle that was cold to the touch of her hoof. She inserted the key into the lock, opened the door and stepped forward. Light and darkness surrounded her, as she felt a complete disconnect from the world she had left. No longer was she master of her surroundings. Pinkie squeezed her eyes shut as a loud whirring filled her ears.

“Giggle at the ghosties…” she quietly whispered to herself, yet the words were lost amidst the rush past her ears, yet nothing pressed against her mane or body. She reached out a hoof, desperately trying to reach something, anything, and another hoof clasped hers, pulling her down. She felt what could be assumed was solid ground underneath her, and a lukewarm air surrounding her. She opened her eyes and stared into herself, except she appeared to be grey, and wearing a frown. Pinkie smiled. The other did not. She cocked her head to one side. The other did not. Instead, it narrowed its cold eyes and spoke.

“What are you doing in my state of mind?”

Comments

[GMZ_Casper]

Hmmm, that seems rather easy on Clyde's part, but I have to respect his dedication to hard work...not so much on him disowning her, though. That was rather heartless. As for Discorded Pinkie...whoa...was not expecting that. This is going to be rather interesting...

[Piquo Pie]

Look, I brought you a care package.” Dashie…

This made me tear up