> Pinkie's Journal > by LunaScribbles > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > "On the fields of Normandy." > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pinkie's Journal The sun shone brightly through the windows of Sugarcube corner, waking not only the Cake family and their two foals, but also woke up Ponyville’s prized party planner: Pinkie Pie. She was always such a happy and exuberant pony, bringing joy and making ponies smile all the while in this small town was what kept her going through the day. They don’t call her the Element of Laughter for nothing. As she stood up, yawning out loud, Pinkie Pie turns to her calendar to see what day it was. The calendar had a lot of ‘x’ marks indicating that the day had been over. It also had a lot of sticky notes beside it, reminding her of what parties should be thrown and on what date. Reading the calendar intently, she saw that today was the 6th of June. Pinkie Pie stared at the calendar for what seemed like forever. She felt the back of her neck go numb, but she didn't do anything. She didn't panic, she didn't move. She just stood there motionless, staring at the calendar as if it was an endless void staring back at her. But instead of absolute emptiness, the words "6th of June" were the only thing that were present in her world as of now. She would've been stuck like that for who knows when if it weren't for Mr. Cake calling out for Pinkie. “Pinkie Pie?” Mr. Cake called out. “Mrs. Cake and I are going out today with the foals so we’re entrusting the store to you.” Breaking out of her trance, Pinkie shook her head violently before responding. “Aye aye, Mr. Cake!” she said cheerfully. June 6th? Pinkie sighed at the thought that today was the day again. June 6th… “Thank you, Pinkie! We baked a breakfast muffin downstairs. Hope you like it! Bye for now!” Mr. Cake said as she heard the door close downstairs and hoofsteps slowly fading away into silence. Pinkie Pie found herself alone at Sugarcube Corner… although silence wasn’t usually something anypony would expect her to handle well, it was what she needed at the moment. She went and activated the secret trapdoor that lead her to her ‘Party Cave’ where she had kept several documents of everypony’s birth days, favorite food, favorite color, basically anything which would give anypony the best party ever thrown for them. She then walked towards the cabinets and smiled. She pulled out the drawer labeled ‘M-P’, and tried searching for the one file that defined who she was; her own file. Opening the file showed many details of Pinkie Pie, similar to anypony she had to write about. Pinkamena Diane Pie Pie Family Rock Farm, Rockville, West Equestria Birthday: June 6, 986 A.B.(After Banishment) Favorite Color: Blue Favorite Food: Cupcakes, cookies, cake Likes: Friends, Parties, making ponies happy Dislikes: Not-fun things, Evil, War Pinkie Pie winced as she read those last two words she had labelled in dislikes. She then looked at the attached documents on the other side of the pile, a picture of the Pie family… No, her family. She looked at it and smiled, knowing that there were ponies who cared for her… especially her sister Maud. She sighed as she took out the picture and flipped it over, showing a monochromatic picture of what appeared to be creatures that stood on their hind legs, clothed in uniforms. It were her brothers… although not biologically, they felt like brothers. It was always a yearly tradition for her to go and reminisce these days of times long gone from a world that she probably cannot go back to. Pinkie Pie placed the picture back into its original place, with the picture of the Pie family back in front. “I guess it’s that time again…” she muttered silently as she pressed a button hidden behind the cabinet. A pedestal rose from the ground, carrying what seemed to be a book in a glass case. It looked old and rugged, but it was something that Pinkie treasured a lot. She then removed the glass case from the book, and held the book in her hooves. She trembled, knowing that this book was filled with harsh memories and truths that she had been hiding from her dear friends. She opened the first page and was greeted with a picture. It was a monochromatic photo featuring a couple with four children, all smiling at the camera. Pinkie Pie recognized this photo all too well. It was her family. Her previous family. A family that lived in the same world as all her brothers once were. She probably doesn’t even know if they’re still alive, they probably don’t even know that she’s still alive. The thought gave her a sense of deep sadness. She then turned to the next page and saw a profile similar to all the ones she had made. Peter Derrick Pennington Ohio, United States Birthday: May 3, 1925 A.D. (Anno Domini) Favorite Color: Blue Favorite Food: Bacon and eggs, cookies, chocolate wafers Likes: Family, my mates, writing, documents, writing documents Dislikes: War, Guns, my sense of humor She smiled and started crying, trying her best to avoid the teardrops falling on the book. While she was about to turn on the next page, she saw something at the corner of her eye. She shut her book and placed it back on the pedestal, and looked around. She saw a bit of blue and other colors she couldn’t pinpoint, but she was sure that she wasn’t alone right now. Somepony’s here... She thought to herself. “I know you’re out there.” Pinkie said, the cheerfulness in her voice seemingly absent from her tone. Her suspicion was confirmed as a familiar pegasus mare with her multicolored mane slowly appeared behind the pile of balloons and other party related things. “Uhh, hey Pinkie.” she said, a bit nervously. “Did I come at a bad time?” “Yes.” said Pinkie nonchalantly. “Oh heh…” Rainbow Dash grinned guiltily as she kicked a cloud that she was going to use to use her iconic thunder scare prank into nothingness. “I guess I’ll be going now. Sorry I tried sneaking up on you.” Rainbow Dash slowly began to fly up towards the trapdoor until Pinkie thought about what she had said. “Wait!” Pinkie yelled out. “Could you please stay for a bit… I think I should tell you something. “ Rainbow acquiesced to Pinkie’s request. She wanted to leave her alone so she could continue moping. She didn’t know that she moped at all, and especially on this day. “Today’s my birthday.” Pinkie said, looking at the ground. Rainbow Dash, looking all confused, spoke up. “I thought Hay 3 was your birthday?” “Yes, it’s my preferred birthday.” Pinkie said, “I’ve been lying about my birthday all this time, I was born on June 6.” “Well, that's kinda strange of a thing to lie about. Eh, it's not like you're the Element of Honesty so you got nothin' to worry about!.” “Dash!" Pinkie growled, which caught Rainbow Dash's attention. Realizing her sudden outburst of anger, Pinkie settled down and took a deep breath. "It’s time I told you the truth about me, Dashie.” she said, looking down at her hooves as if in shame. “Oh come on Pinkie, don't be like that! I don’t care what ‘truth’ you’re going to reveal.” Pinkie looked up at her. Rainbow saw her eyes sparkling with tears. “No matter what, you’re my friend. Heck, probably a best friend! Doesn't matter what you say right now!” "You sure?" "Yeah! I'm very sure of it!" "Even when I was the one who used your toothbrush to clean Gummy's scales?" "Yea- wait WHAT?!" Pinkie giggled at Rainbow's priceless reaction. "You did say it doesn't matter! Don't worry, I'm just kidding about that." she said jokingly. Afterwards, she then tensed herself up and mentally prepared herself to speak. "Now, if I may... If you're very sure that anything I say isn't gonna break our friendship then I'll tell you this: 'I've been living a lie'." "What-- Pinkie. That's not true. You have birth records-- heck, you're one of the ponies making records around here in Ponyville! If tha-- Oh... you fabricated those birth records?" "No no no. Not in that way..." Pinkie shook her head in reply. Rainbow Dash was puzzled; she didn't know what to ask nor say. Pinkie instead just put a foreleg on her shoulder. “My name was not always Pinkie Pie…” she said, slowly gaining confidence in telling her story. “It was…” “... Private Pennington?” said a fellow soldier with me in the amphibious armored vehicle, sailing across the sea. He looked a bit older, having a gravelly voice. “Yes?” I replied, looking up from my journal. “What are you writing there? Your last will?” the soldier joked. I chuckled in reply. “Nah, I’m keeping documents.” “Documents?” the soldier, confused, continued to ask. “Son, this is a war, not officework.” “Well sir, at any given moment, I could die. If I’m gonna die, at least I’ll die doing what I love.” I explained as I looked back at my journal. “I worked sorting filing cabinets, writing down records, doing notary services with my trusty typewriter back home, and handling important documents of the small town I lived in. All by the age of fifteen.” “That sounds stupid…” the soldier said nonchalantly, then regained his enthusiasm. “Can I see?” I snickered. “Sure.” The soldier looked at all of the details I’ve written. By the looks from his face, he was impressed. “... Private Parker, Private Louis, Corporal Jefferson, Lieutenant Garrison, Jesus! That’s a lot of names! All of their likes, dislikes, birthdays…” “Thanks…” I smiled a bit. “Their from my company. They’re like brothers to me.” “Heh. By the way, name’s Private James. James Di Maggio.” he held out his hand to me. “Name’s Peter.” I grabbed his hand, and shook it. “Say, fancy name you got there. You’re not from America?” “Heh, technically I’m not. I was raised in America, but both of my parents were from Italy. They left there when I was about a few years old.” “Neat! I’ve met a couple of Italian-Americans during my times working in the town.” “Say, Peter, can I be in that journal you’re writing?” “I’m already writing it down now!” I chuckled. “If we don’t make out of this alive, I have the dreams of many people in the hands of this book. If ever some of ours would reclaim our dogtags, I’ll be holding the book in my hands for them to see.” “You see, dreams don’t die. They live on. Passed on to one another, for everyone to see.” I continued. “This is why I love documents. It’s such a shame that it had to end so soon. My dream of doing this job until the day I die isn’t finished yet. I will die in this war documenting.” James stared, and chuckled. “I see you’re also into philosophy. You studied that?” “Well…” I scratched the back of my head. “Back when I was about eleven years old, my dad brought home a lot of books. Nobody knows where he got them from. But, these books were pretty advanced. Even for a kid like me back then. So yeah. I read a lot during my spare time. Don Quixote, War of the Worlds, Moby Dick, All Quiet on the Western Front and many more.” “I’ve no idea what those books are. The Great Depression was a bitch to live through. I had to cut my education. Worked at woodworks, carrying all the lumber. Meanwhile, you, you’re pretty lucky to have books. My parents couldn’t even afford books.” he then looked up at the clear blue sky. “You’re pretty smart, for a kid your age.” he then said. “Sad that your intelligence has a chance of being POOF, gone.” “Intelligence will never disappear once it’s written down on paper.” I replied cheerfully. James tipped his helmet as he snickered. I looked out at the boat and saw that we were a few hours to the shores of Normandy. I was a bit nervous, but I needed to have the mental fortitude… Nah, I can’t. “So, James, what’s your favorite color?” “We’re here.” I muttered as I closed my book and kept it inside my rucksack. We saw some weird metallic barricades that prevented the amphibious vehicle from properly getting to shore. “Czech Hedgehogs”, if I remember correctly, is what my captain called them during the mission briefing. Instead of landing on the sand, we had to stop a couple of feet away from it. That was when I heard the first shot. Suddenly, I heard people scream. I’ve always marveled at the German’s capability in the field of engineering, capable of making the MG-42; Hitler’s Buzzsaw. It shot out, killing almost everyone who tried getting on the beach. The captain blew his whistle and yelling ‘charge’ as if his life depended on it. To be fair, it probably did. All the soldiers quickly ran out of the vehicle. Some couldn’t make it out of the boat, some drowned due to complications with their equipment… But most got either gunned down by the defending Nazis or blown up. It was a fuckin’ meat grinder out there. Soldiers standing in the middle of the sand, just watching everything take place. Some hid behind the hedgehogs, crying their eyes out. Some had their limbs off of their bodies. Some had their guts out. It was hell on Earth, I’ll tell you that much. I quickly ran off the boat. Numerous bullets were all flying past me, but, thank the Lord, none hit me. The adrenaline pumping in my brain made the bullets seem slower. I looked at each individual bullet and where they were headed. One, went to the hedgehog. Two, went to the sand. Three, went to the boat. Four, to someone’s eye. The soldier let out a scream that would sure haunt me. The screams were then silenced as the soldier was filled with even more lead in his body. Cringing, I ignored all the bullets and went to the hedgehogs for cover. They were a double edged sword for our current situation right now. We can’t get the tanks past them, but, for now, they give cover from that dreadful Buzz Saw. I saw Private James hide behind the same hedgehog as me. “Clear skies, eh? Good day to die, ain’t it? If we die, we won’t be wet once we're on our way to heaven.” he joked. “Well, that is if we even get to heaven.” I replied. “But we gotta get past this hell first.” “Heh, if we die, let our souls join the afterlife, friend. Let’s play around in the fields of heaven, just like how the Greeks did.” “I didn’t know you read some books of Homer.” “Yeah, no. You see, my dad was a literature teacher; but since I was so busy trying to support the family, he didn’t have time to teach me. Usually, I'd sneak in to his class whenever I got the job done early and that's one thing that stuck with me. Everything else was boring Shakespeare." I smiled at him. “Well, It’s a deal then. Once we get to heaven, let’s frolic in the Elysian Fields together!” "Alright, smartass." he smiled in reply. It was a strange sight to see a man smiling as a barrage of bullets hailed from the other side, with this steel hedgehog being our only temporary refuge against the Wehrmacht defenses. Time slowed down as I stared at the beaches; colored red with the blood of the numerous dead soldiers. My concentration was interrupted as he heard someone yell near him. “Where’s the captain!” yelled loudly an obviously nervous soldier. “I am!” another soldier yelled in response. All the soldiers hiding behind the hedgehogs then listened intently to what the captain had to say. “Men. As you can see, this is FUBAR. We’re FUBAR. This is all FUBAR. But men, we’re all gathered here to make our country not be FUBAR. If we die here today, we’ll die protecting our country. Let our corpses be the foundation of the new generation. A generation with no Nazis. We can start that foundation by killing that goddamn gunner, and rush em’ all! Do I make myself clear?” “Sir, yes, sir!” all shouted in unison. “Good!” he then grabbed his whistle and blew it so loud, it rang in my ears. “Charge!” With that, all the soldiers hiding from their spots, James and I included, ran out and charged the field. Most of them got shot down by the MG-42, some exploded due to either the artillery shots or the land mines, a few of us made it past, but none were so happy. We were now right underneath a dirt ledge, hidden from that dreaded gunner. The captain looked at us and saw that most of us we’re either riflemen or field medics. He sighed in stress, but looked at me. “Private Pennington!” he yelled out. “You gotta take out that gunner!” Bad day to be a rifleman… My heart was at my throat, and my hands were shaking as I held my rifle. “Me sir?” I nervously said. “Yes you, goddamnit!” he responded. “We’ll make a distraction! You need to get past that barbed wire, head behind their firing line, and shoot that goddamn Nazi!” A soldier was made to take orders. How can I decline an order from a superior? Even if it was a matter of life or death; either theirs or mine, I looked at James, he had a look of worry. As a fellow rifleman, he offered to take my position instead, but I quickly declined it. It was my order, my duty. The captain, and a few other soldiers started throwing grenades behind the sandbags that gave the gunner protection. The Germans then started throwing them back. Now was my chance. I then climbed over the barbed wire, which was easier said than done, and got my Springfield ‘03 ready. I made a quiet prayer before I went prone and aimed my shot. Lord, I pray that once this is over, that the world be filled with happiness; with laughter and joy engulfing. If that can’t happen, then let me spark the fire, the eternal warmth of peace brought by happiness around me. I loaded the bolt. Through Jesus’ name. Aimed at the head of the gunner, whose two companions beside him were busy throwing the grenades back. Amen. I pulled the trigger. Filled with the same adrenaline I felt while running through the beaches of Normandy, I saw the bullet make its way slowly as it pierced the skull. The two were now distracted, looking as to where the bullet could have come from. Because of that, they forgot the grenade that snuck past them. A loud boom, and the gory sound of body parts flying was all I heard. “My God, Peter, you fuckin’ did it!” I heard James yell as he climbed past the barbed wire and dropped on the other side, stumbling on his feet. “Well, to be fair, it was a team effort.” I said as I carried myself up from being prone on the gray sand. The captain approached us, and so did a few more soldiers that survived. “Now’s not the time to celebrate. There’re still some German soldiers running around these parts. Get a move on!” “Sir, yes, sir!” James and I ran together, along with some of the other surviving soldiers, shooting every German we came across. He shot at the right while I shot at the left. Screams, coming from soldiers from different parts of the world. American, English, Canadian, German, all were screaming, charging at each other… Well, American, English, Canadians were charging at the Germans. Yeah, that’s what I meant. I heard a familiar shot. It was a Kar98k rifle. A very powerful rifle. In fact, whenever the shot missed and hit the earth, the ground spat up like a fountain. The missed shots were now slowly getting closer to our feet. Someone was aiming for us. “James! There’s a sniper! Three o’ clock!” I yelled out, but it was too late. He was shot from the back. He stopped dead in his tracks and fell to the ground with a thud. “James!” I yelled out, but I was shot from the front by a different sniper from the west. It had punctured, from what it had seemed, to be my liver. I kept my balance, and slinged my rifle and tried shooting those two goddamn snipers. I heard the shot again, but thankfully it just passed by a few inches from my cheek. My adrenaline was at its peak. I know where you are, you asshole. I turned to the right and saw a German soldier hiding behind piles of rubble about a eighty feet away from me. In an instant, I shot a bullet in the sniper to the east’s sorry head. The German soldier fell with a thud as blood flowed through the cracks in the rubble. “Fuck you for that!” I yelled. James, still conscious, tried standing up. “Peter! The sniper to the west! Gah!” he coughed out blood. He was wheezing heavily. I concluded that he was shot in the lungs. His warnings were a bit too late as I was shot at the back of my neck. “PETER!” The world went black. If those books about anatomy my dad gave me were correct, the bone in my neck connected to my brain, making man able to move his body. But, since it’s probably broken, and my throat had a hole in it, I couldn’t do anything but gurgle on my own blood until my very life had finished. I heard the crumpling of dirt. James was probably crawling towards me. “James…” he wheezed. “We’re going to die together. As brothers, like those brothers you’ve mentioned in your company.” I couldn’t respond for obvious reasons, but I think he got the idea. “Elysian Fields, right?” I heard him say. “Well, hope heaven has some good wine up there.” he joked. His heavy breathing went slower and slower until it finally went to a halt. Then I heard a thud. He’s dead. And I’m soon going to be. I could still see the dirt in front of my face. I couldn’t do anything. Not yell, not speak, not do anything. All I could do is just close my eyes and wait for it all to be over… I just hope that our sacrifice meant something. Mom, dad, Eileen, Mark, John… Hope you aren’t mad at me that I’m the first one to go. And with that, everything went black. I then awoke in my bed back in Ohio. The smell of flapjacks filled the air. I smiled. Looks like it was all a horrible nightmare. I sighed in relief. “Boy, mom, are those flapjacks I smell?” I shouted enthusiastically. “Sure is, Pete!” I heard John reply downstairs. “Now you come on down before I eat them all!” I laughed to myself. “Maybe the war never even happened after all.” I muttered to myself. “Peeete! Come down quickly! John’s eating em’ all!” I heard a young girl yell. “Comin’, Eileen!” I got up from my bed, but then noticed I was in military uniform, all dirty, and bloodied. “What the?!” The bed was starting to turn red, from the blood that was still coming out from my liver and throat. I wasn’t feeling any pain, but I cringed at the sight. The fact that I wasn’t feeling any pain from the amount I’m bleeding out was making me quite worried until I realized that none of this was real. The room was starting to disappear into a white void. The uniform I was wearing was starting to disappear until I was naked. “So this is it, huh?” “Not quite.” I heard a voice say. A feminine voice which sounded a lot like it’d come from a queen. “You prayed to be the spark of the joy in your world.” she continued. “You’ve done your part in this world. You will now be the spark of joy in ours.” I was a bit confused at first. One, I’ve never imagined God being a woman. Second, I’ll be the spark of joy in… heaven? “Wait wait… Where’s James? He died with me, can’t he come with me?” I said, expecting a no for an answer. But to my surprise, she replied. “If that is what you wish, then he will come too.” she said as another figure appeared before me. It was James alright. Bullet wound at around his chest area. Bigger built body, yep, definitely him. "Anything for the future bringer of happiness." the voice responded. I was confused as to why God had accepted my wishes. About the spark of joy? About James being with me here in heaven? James tried processing the white void around him, and then turned to me, and then looked down. “Aha! Mine’s bigger than yours!” He joked. I chuckled. “Glad to see we’re going to the Elysian Fields together.” he nodded. “Not quite.” said the disembodied voice. “Oh yeah, we’re Christians. Not Greeks. My bad. So heaven, right?” “No," the voice responded. "You two will be reincarnated. You will live once more. To be honest, I only wanted Peter to be reincarnated as he wished to change the world with happiness. You, James, are lucky to be friends with the one who will provide happiness in our world.” “Reincarnation?” said James. “Peter, you won’t believe how happy I am to be friends with you right now. Suck it Hitler! Suck it Mussolini! It’s gonna take more than a fucking Kar to kill this tank!” “Hey there, easy now. Don’t swear in front of God now.” The disembodied voice giggled. “You will soon find your purpose in the new world. I can’t say for certain your memories will still be intact, so I’ll give you your one final request.” she paused for a bit, then spoke up again. “What is one thing you want from your world to persist in this world?” So basically, we’re going to die. Losing memories is the same thing as dying. If I can’t remember anything, the best thing I could do is cheat a bit. With no hesitation, I said. “The book I carried around with me at all times, please.” Then spoke James. “Please, give me the golden pocketwatch that I carried around with me…” After we had said our requests, they suddenly appeared in front of us. I grabbed the journal, hugging it tightly against my chest. James then kept his pocketwatch in both of his hands, and opened it. It had a picture that I couldn’t make out, but James shed a tear when he saw it. “Can’t believe we’re dead.” I nodded in agreement with him. “God, it’s time for you to do your reincarnation thing. I think we’re ready.” “Wait, before you do. We’re going to be born again. That means, we’re going to stay in the womb for a few months. How are we going to get these items back?” “Magic.” said the voice nonchalantly. James and I just looked at each other, confused. We raised an eyebrow and said in unison. “What?” The voice giggled. “You’ll see. Fare thee well, I will be seeing you soon, Peter. Once you discover the truth, please come back to me.” We were both engulfed by the void. I felt the grip on my book started to loosen. I tried to hold on to it harder, but I felt my hands growing more numb as my vision was nothing but white. I struggled a bit, but then my instincts told me that it was okay for me to let go. Flashes of images went past by me, like a six-year old remembering everything that had happened during her birth. I laid there, standing on top of a book that seemed familiar to me. I had always cherished this book for some reason, but I never really got to opening it. I always hid it under my bed, and spoke none of it. I never knew where it had come from, but I always knew it was something important to me. “Pinkamena Diane Pie.” called out my dad, Igneous Rock Pie. “You’re on rock farm duty today. Limestone Pie bruised her hoof in the mines and Marble Pie got a cold.” “Yes, father.” I replied. I hid the book under my bed, and went downstairs. Gotta say, working on a rock-farm was pretty dull, but you couldn’t believe how much bits you could gain from this job. We’re technically one of the richest families in Equestria, but my dad is extremely modest. Like, come on! Can’t we have something new? Like better equipment? I guess being traditional just runs within the Pie family. I went out the door, and started flipping rocks over. One of these rocks would actually be a crystal with dust on em’. Trust me on this one, it’s happened several times. I flipped a few rocks for more than a few times. I kept flipping. And flipping. And flipping. Until a huge thundering boom just came out of nowhere! It was an absolute beauty of an explosion! Rainbow colors came flying out of it as the wind blasted. An explosion? German artilleries, land mines, grenades, buzz saw gunner, captain, soldiers, James Di Maggio, Private Parker, Private Louis, Corporal Jefferson, Lieutenant Garrison, Lieutenant Harper, Captain Turner, brothers, family, mom, dad, John, Mark, Eileen, Ohio, United States, America, Documents, Journal. I didn’t understand the sudden flow of words, but then suddenly the words 'journal' came to me… but then, I heard another word came to my head. “Joy…” I muttered to myself, the force of the explosion made my straight mane into a poofy mane. I looked up at the sky and saw the most beautiful rainbow I’ve ever seen. I quickly went into the silo and formed what I felt making. “Okay, Peter. This is the first time you’ll ever be handling a party. If you want Eileen to have the best birthday ever, what are the things you need?” Amanda, my mom, asked me as she grabbed a bowl and a whisk. “We need balloons! Streamers, specifically orange! And music!” “Good good! Get the gramophone! You know her favorite song?” “Of course! It’s St. James Infantry.” I said. “Really? That song? I guess she is the eldest one around here, of course she’d pick a song like that.” “I mean, anything to give her a perfect party.” I said, looking at my journal. “Want to bake this cake with me?” The party then came, and Eileen was crying tears of joy. “It’s perfect!” she then looked at mom. “Thank you mom!” “Oh, no need to thank me. Thank your brother for suggesting everything!” I blushed. “Aw shucks, mom.” “This cake tastes good too! Did you make this mom?” “Actually, it was Peter who did that too, I just helped him do what he had to do! The color of the streamers was also his idea, it was just me that put them up.” “Also, Cab Calloway’s such a good singer.” Eileen said. “Yeah, if you want to make the mood depressing.” sourly remarked John. “I’d’ve preferred if you picked something like, you know, a happy birthday record.” I hit John with my elbow. “No money, remember.” “Oh, right.” he then scratched the back of his head. “Heh, sorry.” “Now, let’s all eat that cake shall we?” said dad, who came dressed as a clown. We all laughed and began to dig in for the birthday feast. Eileen then turned to me and smiled. “Thanks, Peter.” "Pinkamena Diane Pie! Is that you?" said Igneous Rock. "Mom! I need you and dad and the sisters to come in. Quick!" Igneous and Cloudy gave each other worried looks as all of them came in. Shocked to see what had become of the silo. It was decorated with cakes, streamers, and the color pink. "You like it? It's called..." she paused for anticipation. “A PARTY!” she enthusiastically shouted. The Pie family had their mouths agape at what they had seen. I started to frown a bit. “Y-you don’t like it?” I stuttered. I laid my head down, until I saw them all smiling. “You like it!” I cheered. We all started dancing and eating cakes. Oh was it fun! And then, I heard sparkles behind me. I turned to look at my rump and saw that I had gained my cutie mark. I smiled. “Joy.” I muttered to myself. “That’s my talent.” I went back to my bedroom. I think it’s about time I opened that book. The first page featured a picture of someone’s birthday party. It was a monochromatic picture. It was a picture of a couple, formally dressed, although the male looking one had a bit of face paint on his face, with four kids. It had names labeled on the white borders of the picture. The mother was named Amanda, the father was named Guy, the girl in the center, who seemed to be the celebrant, was Eileen, the one beside her was named Peter, and the two at the ends of the table were John and Mark namely. Then, it all came back to me. I then browsed all the pages. It had a written copy of the Rifleman's Creed, documents, and recounting of the island hopping that the owner had done. The last entry on it was June 6th, 1944. All it had was a short prayer. A prayer that he always recited when he knew death was about. Behind the page was the description of the last guy the owner of this journal had ever recorded… James Di Maggio. “This… journal.” I muttered to myself quietly. “Is mine.” Tears started flowing through my eyes. I couldn’t believe it. I was only six years old, yet I feel old already… Did we win the war? Did Eileen achieve her dreams? Are mom and dad alive? Are John and Mark alright? I kept crying as I read on. The journal detailed the life of Peter several days before he was forcefully drafted into the military. The journal hasn’t reached the final page yet, but it had around two pages before it did. I grabbed a quill that was lying on the table. I was reluctant at first to desecrate whoever used to own this book… but it was Peter’s book. It was my book. I wrote. Pinkamena Diane Pie Pie Family Rock Farm, Rockville, West Equestria Birthday: June 6, 986 A.B.(After Banishment) Favorite Color: Blue Favorite Food: Cupcakes, cookies, cake Likes: Friends, Parties, making ponies happy Dislikes: Not-fun things, Evil, War April 15, 992 My name is Pinkamena Diane Pie. I am six years old. One of the two youngest daughters of the Pie Family. I live in a land known as Equestria. I'm an Earth Pony. Today I remembered EVERYTHING. I regret choosing the book as something I'd bring with me through the afterlife, well, what I thought to be the afterlife. Equestria is a different place from where I used to live. Earth, was it? If anypony, or anybody were to find this book now in Equestria... well, it's useless. There are no humans here. The dreams of the soldiers are stuck on this world, with no hope of ever being fulfilled on Earth. No one will know what their last will was. But, if it weren't for this book, Peter would've been lost to me. Forever... But to be honest, would I have really desired Peter to persist in this world? I should’ve just left this book in the other world. I was a bit hasty and selfish with my decision, and I regret this... I shouldn’t have asked to keep this book. I remembered James... If I find him, I find the Peter that has been gone within me. I just hope he remembers me. I don't know how much memories one single pocketwatch can contain... I doubt he'd be able to remember everything. Although there isn't much space I could add here, I guess I'll just write down what I need to say. Sometimes, I wish I could just go and visit mom and dad. I just want to hug them. Remember, Peter. You are the spark of joy. God said so herself. Thank you for serving your country. Love, Pinkie. Pinkie shut the book, looking into Rainbow Dash’s eyes. “You see, it was painful. Ever since I discovered I was Peter, I figured that I just abandoned everyone back on my old world.” “But Pinkie--” Rainbow Dash was cut off as Pinkie continued speaking. “But shortly thereafter, I found out my cutie mark. My cutie mark was to spread joy and laughter all throughout Equestria. I failed to do so in my world...” Pinkie looked at her, smiling. “But I think I did a good job here, becoming one of the sacred emblems of Equestria that symbolizes laughter. Hard to believe a pony like me who’s been through Tartarus and back still manages to smile.” Rainbow also smiled back. “Pinkie... if it would cheer you up, I'm gonna help you find that golden pocketwatch and the pony who’s currently owning it no matter how long it takes.” “You mean it?” “Pinkie, you’re my friend. I may not know who this Peter is, but he’s you. That immediately makes Peter my friend. He’s not dead as you claim he is. He’s alive Pinkie. You make him alive. So do all the dreams of the soldiers. You carry them with you. One day, you’ll fulfill all of them, no matter how impossible that sounds!” she said, putting a hoof on my shoulder. “And if finding that pony with the golden pocketwatch means reuniting yourself with the pony-- I mean human, who you used to be friends with; the only other thing remaining from your past life, then I’m not going to stop until we find them.” Pinkie Pie finally hugged her tightly, crying into her chest. “I’m so thankful I have a friend like you, Rainbow Dash!” She patted the pink mare’s back, and caressed her mane. “I’m thankful… no. We’re thankful we have a pony like you Pinkie Pie.” “Tell me I’ve lived a good life.” she said. “What, Pinkie?” “Tell me I’m a good mare.” “What are you talking about, Pinkie?” Rainbow Dash asked, snickering confusedly. Pinkie just giggled, wiping away her tears. “Oh, it’s nothing.” “Same old Pinkie Pie.” Rainbow Dash smiled. “By the way, here’s that muffin that I found in the counter. It’s cold now, but knowing the Cakes, anything they bake, cold or hot, tastes delicious. I dunno if you’d like it.” Pinkie Pie grabbed a candle from the pile of party items lying around, and placed it on top of the muffin and lit it up. “Rest in Peace, Peter Pennington.” she said to herself. “And Happy Birthday, Pinkie Pie.” Rainbow Dash said. Pinkie Pie started humming to herself a familiar tune. She then sung quietly. Let it go, let it go, god bless her Wherever she may be She will search this wide world over But she'll never find another sweet man like me When I die, bury me in my straight-leg britches Put on a box-back coat and a Stetson hat Put a twenty-dollar gold piece on my watch chain So you can let all the boys know I died standing pat.