> Broken > by TheCloudtop > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter One: Whispers > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pinkie sat in her room, uncharacteristically quiet. Her mane, normally out of control, and defying description, sat poker straight, dangling around her shoulders. Her eyes, normally full of life and mirth, were dull and far away. Her mouth, which was normally stretched to mind boggling proportions, was flat and uninviting. Her energy, which was normally uplifting and joy inducing, was depressing and lonely. Everything that Pinkie was normally known for was nowhere to be seen, heard or felt.         It had been a month since something had broken inside of the pink mare. A month since the joy that flowed from every pore of her being evaporated. A month since the spark that defined Pinkie had mysteriously fizzled out. A month that she had isolated herself from any and all contact with the world outside of her room. Her friends had all come, trying to reach her, to no avail. A month’s worth of food, a month’s worth of letters, a month’s worth of her friends entreaties all sat outside of her door.         Pinkie sat at the foot of her bed, just as she had done for the past month. Her body was on the verge of collapsing. She had not uttered a word in this time; Her mind was focused on only one thing: A conversation that she had overheard one month ago. ______________________________________________________________________________         Pinkie had been bouncing along as she normally did. She was getting things prepared for a party that she had been planning for months. A party that she wanted to throw in appreciation for her friends, a way for her to show how much she loved her friends, a way to show how much she much she truly loved them. She was on her way to Sugarcube Corner when she passed by her friends standing in a circle talking. Curious, Pinkie stopped and listened closely.         “I don’t know about you girls, but I have grown quite weary of Pinkie lately. She is just so overbearing at times, it’s exhausting. I know she means well, but would it be too much to ask for her to tone it down a little?”         “I know! It’s like she almost goes out of her way to be annoying. What the hay is up with her?”         “Ah know whatcha all mean. The other day, she cumpletely trampled mah saplings, just to give me a hug. Ah know that she is our friend an all, but she can be a hoof full at times.”         “Um, yesterday, she scared a bunch of my critters when she was used her megaphone to say hi to me. It scared me so badly, I almost jumped out of my fur...”         “I have read some books lately, pertaining to the study of the brain and how it works. I think Pinkie suffers Bipolar Disorder, not to mention a severe case of ADHD. According to the books I read, she could also have some sort of mental retardation problem as well. The way that she is always so foalish supports my theory.”         Pinkie couldn't believe her ears. Her friends, the ones that she loved, the very ponies that she carried in her heart, thought she was annoying? On purpose? They thought that she was retarded? How could they? Pinkie’s heart shattered at the sound of her friend’s continuing conversation. Here she was, wanting to throw a party for them, one she had been planning for months, only to find out that her friends thought so little of her. ______________________________________________________________________________         Pinkie wandered off, not knowing what to do. Her mind and heart in shambles, she walked around aimlessly, not even noticing the stares and murmurs that she was receiving. Unbeknownst to Pinkie, her mane was straight as an arrow, and her coat was near devoid of color. Unbeknownst to Pinkie, her eyes had lost all of their once bright luster. Unbeknownst to Pinkie, she would never be the same again.         She wandered for hours, not even paying attention where she was going, or who she was passing. The world had lost all passion for her, all color; all meaning for her lost without her friends. In all actuality, Pinkie had all but died, the meaning to her life gone. Pinkie walked and walked, the world around her having lost any significance to her. Pinkie’s body was operating solely on autopilot, her mind replaying the events of her time with her friends, over and over again.         Where did I go wrong? Why? Why? WHY? Why don’t they love me? What did I do? What can I do? My closest friends don’t even love me. What about every other pony? What do they think of me? If my best friends, the ponies that I consider family, can’t love me, then who can? Am I unlovable? Do I deserve to live? Do I need to live? What’s the point of me being alive, if I can’t make ponies smile? What about the Cakes? What do they think of me?          Pinkie continued to wander, her mind lost in a jumbling flood of emotion and memories. She thought back to all the parties that she had thrown for her friends, all the surprises she had given them, all the hard work that she had put in to love her friends. Was any of it really appreciated? Was any of it really worth anything, if the ponies that she loved didn't love her in return?         Pinkie was at a loss at what to do. If who she was wasn't loved, if who she was wasn't accepted, if she wasn't desirable to the ones she loved, then for what reason did she have to exist? Pinkie was left with nothing but the hole in her heart, left with nothing but the emptiness that only those that have been rejected have ever known. That broken, cold, jagged pain threatened to completely overwhelm her, threatened to pull her under, and never let go. ______________________________________________________________________________ So, Pinkie sat in her room, her mind waiting for something. Waiting for something. Something...         Waiting... > Chapter 2: Lost on the Inside > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pinkie wandered through the halls of her mind. Searching, looking, seeking. What was the purpose of her life? Why did she live? What was the point in life? Pinkie wandered into the deepest recesses of her mind, the parts that made Pinkie, Pinkie. As she got deeper and deeper in, she felt, rather than saw, a bright light. This light was made up of every memory, feeling and action that Pinkie had ever experienced. In other words, this light represented Pinkie’s whole being, even the parts that she was not aware of. Pinkie jerked in surprise, when the light spoke.         “Pinkie, what are you doing here? You should be outside, fellowshipping with your friends.”         Pinkie just looked at the light, as if to say, “You should know.”         “Pinkie. Why do you stand there, as if this is the end of the line for you? You still have much that you need to do and accomplish. There are many more ponies that only you can touch, and many things that only you can do.”         Pinkie just continued to stare at the light.         “Come Pinkie. You need to see this again. For yourself.”         The light seemed to envelop Pinkie, as it took her to the very center of her soul. Pinkie just stared and stared.         “Look Pinkie. Don’t you remember? The joy that you spread to your family. The changes that you wrought. The dynamics that you shifted. All these things are things only you could have done. You, of all ponies ever created, only you could have spread this.”         Pinkie looked at the light with deep suffering and agony in her eyes.         “Look at the way that your family operated after this. Never again were you and your sisters ever subjected to that crippling lifestyle. You brought about great and wonderful change to your parents as well. You sparked the joy and love that they had lost long ago.”         “Come, there is much more that you must see.”         The Light reached even deeper, as the scene shifted. “Don’t you remember the day that you moved to Ponyville? How excited you were? The passion that you felt?”         Pinkie spoke for the first time since she overheard her friends. “What’s your point? Sure, I might be a special pony, but only until I’m not needed anymore. My friends, what good are they, when they don’t really appreciate me, when all they really think of me is that I’m annoying? What good am I, when nopony see’s me, for me, and doesn’t judge me for me? When everything that I am, everything I hold dear, everything that defines me, is a big joke to those around me? Tell me, what purpose do I serve?         The Light continued, as if it heard nothing. “Remember when you met the Cakes? You were following the smell of fresh cupcakes, and that led you to Sugercube Corner. You burst in the door, demanding cupcakes? The Cakes immediately took you in. They showered you with kindness, blessing you in many ways. They taught you how to bake all kinds of things.”         “Remember when you met Rarity? How excited you were to meet a high class pony? You bombarded her with questions. From everything to fashion, to classical music and plays. Remember how happy she was to find someone that took an interest in her and her interests? You were the first one to ever reach out to her in that way.”         Pinkie winced, as she once again thought of the conversation that she had overheard. “Yeah, and we both know what she really thinks of me. And before you even go on about how I “Touched my other so called “Friends”, I know what they all think of me.” Anger and sadness combined played out in Pinkie’s voice. “The very one’s that I would have gladly laid down my life for, are the one’s who really couldn’t really think any less of me if they tried.” Pinkie looked at the light, rage coloring every inch of her features.         “MY SO CALLED FRIENDS THINK I AM STUPID! WHAT KIND OF FRIENDS OF THOSE!? THOSE AREN’T MY FRIENDS!”         The Light looked at Pinkie, deep sadness seeming to emit from it. “So, what are you planning on doing then, Pinkie? Shut yourself off from the world? Never trust again? In essence, choose to die? You aren’t meant to do any of those things. You are meant for greater things that you cannot even begin to comprehend. If you only knew what you were destined for.”         Pinkie sneered. “If what I am “Destined” for is to be hurt and taken advantage of, count me out. I would rather die. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT’S LIKE! I LOVED THEM, AND THEY JUST THREW ME AWAY. THEY PRETENDED TO BE MY FRIENDS!” Pinkie’s voice took dropped to a soft, faint whisper. “What’s to stop that from happening again?”         The Light was silent, as if mulling over what Pinkie had said. “What if it does happen again? That is part of life. It is inevitable that you will be used, and abandoned. That does not mean that there are not ponies that truly appreciate you for you. Look at the positive, not the negative. There is more to things than just what you see. You don’t know how you, and your actions, have touched many ponies lives. The very things that your friends were putting you down for, are the very things that have touched so many. You truly have no idea how much you are loved, and by so many that you will never see or know.”         “So you’re saying that I should just allow myself to be used and abused, simply so that some ponies that I will never meet can be touched?”         “To put it simply, yes.”         “No.”         “What was that?”         “I said NO! That is not worth it. Not at all.”         The Light looked at Pinkie. “What then? What do you plan on doing?”         Pinkie stared at the light for a moment. “Absolutely nothing. I’ll just stay here, forever.”         The Light drew back from Pinkie, as if to her room. “Are you sure that is what you want to do?”         Pinkie’s face was that of misery. “No, but it’s better than being hurt again by anypony.”         The Light started to fade, then black out. Its last words were this: “That is your choice then. I will not force you to do what I wish for you.”         Pinkie just sat there in the darkness. She was free. Free from all it all. Free. Free.         Free...