My Little Pinkie Pie - MLP Fanfic

Chapter 4 - Thunderclouds

I open and the front door a smidge, then slide in and quickly lock it again. Holy poop. Where did Pinkie Pie come from? How did she get here? Why is she just a filly? Why not a full grown mare?

Whatever. This is getting weird. I put the filly in my jacket on the beautiful purple couch. Normally, I wouldn't let her near it. I wouldn't let anybody put their feet on it. Or hooves. At least her hooves are tangled in the jacket sleeves. How in Celestia did that happen?

Anyway, I decide that my eyes are just being stupid. Maybe I hit my head on the way home? Maybe I could have... I don't know... maybe I'm still asleep and today was just a strange, lifelike dream.

I dump the groceries on the kitchen table, then run around the house, switching every light on. Then I turn a few off again. The power bill is already going through the roof. What with my hair being so darn hard to straighten and all.

I flick the living room light on, and she's still there, trying to detangle her legs from my jacket. It is so adorable, I almost forget that somewhere in my brain, a twig has probably snapped. I walk up to her, and kneel down so we are eye level. I reach out my hand to help her out with the detangling situation. She ducks away a lot, sinking into the couch. "It's okay, Pinkie," I say calmly, "It's alright."

I reach out again, slowly this time, to her right foreleg and unwind the jacket sleeves.

HOLY CRAP, SHE'S RUINED MY JACKET.

I sigh, and tut at her sarcastically. After some untangling, and not alot of cooperation from Pinkie, (especially a playful bite... Well, I think it was playful) she gets free.

The filly pauses, not knowing what to do first. I back away, and lean against the TV cabinet on the opposite side of the room. The little pony then starts sniffing the couch, then sneezes. I really want to jump up and kick and scream and shout at how much germs she has released into the atmosphere, but I restrain myself from doing so. "...So... Do you speak English?" I ask pathetically.

The pony stares up at me, giving me a quizzical look, like those Japanese exchange students did to me in high school. She knew I made a sound, I was positive of that. But she didn't know if I was trying to communicate or if it was just a pointless sound.

"Um... Okay, then, I'll take that as a no," I say.

The young pink pony in front of me starts to tear up, and then starts crying.

"Oh, please don't cry! What's the matter? Do you want something? Are you crying because you can't understand me? Oh, that's a stupid question, if you couldn't understand me, then how the hay could you indicate yes or no?" I ask in a panicked tone.

Without thinking, I soothingly shush the sad pony, rushing over to her and start stroking her softly, until she stops, and stares up at me with big blue, watery eyes.

I stroke her mane.

"My, my! What a wonderful mane you have! It's so perfect and knot free!" I compliment. I mean it! It's beautifully straight. And it smells of candy floss. Shut up!

"You must be lost. I wonder where you came from." Duh. Equestria. God, I'm stupid.

We sit there for a while, both staring at each other. The mini Pinkie Pie smiles weakly at me. More than a zillion questions are zipping around in my head.

Suddenly, a huge crack of lighting, followed by loud thunder breaks. The pink filly screeches and panics. She gallops around on the couch, tears of fear streaming out of her eyes.

I had totally forgotten about the storm outside.

Lighting strikes again, followed by more low rumbles of thunder. A stick gets blown onto the window, making a banging noise, and Pinkie squeals with fear. She digs into the cracks of the pillows in the couch. I'm breathing heavily, not knowing what to do. If I make a grab for her, the small string of trust we have could be snipped, but I can't stop a storm.
A huge clap of thunder explodes, and all the lights blow out.

Power cut.

The filly shrieks in terror.
I turn on my iPhone. "Shh," I say, burying my hands into the couch and pulling out the poor pink being. She's shivering, and I can feel her little heart beating in her chest.

"Aaaaww..." I coo, before clutching her to my chest and hug her.

"Here comes the sun,

dada dada,

Here comes the sun,

and I say,

It's alright," I sing, softly.

I don't even know the words to this song, but she doesn't seem to mind.

She jolts every time she hears the thunder.

After kneeling down, clutching her to my chest, slowly rocking from side to side while singing 'Here Comes the Sun' for what seems like forever, she finally starts to calm down.

"Now, I know you don't understand me, but when I was a little girl, I was afraid of thunderstorms too. I used to count. The higher the number before the next clap of thunder was the further away the storm is." I say. "Let's count."
She stares up at me in the darkness. The thunder starts to roar, and she nuzzles into my arms.

"One....two....three....four.....five.....six...." The thunder broke out again.

I count to three. Then five, then three, ten, six, one, three, seven, eleven and finally twenty. And then the storm goes away. The lights flicker on again. Pinkie opens her eyes, and blinks up at me.

I smile brightly, "You did it!" I cheer in a squeaky tone. Most unlike me.
Pinkie knows I'm happy, and cheers in her sweet, high pitched voice to show me that she's happy.

"Good job! See? That wasn't so scary!" I smile, scratching behind her ears softly. Pinkie beams at me with pride.
"Now, you must be hungry," I say, standing the small filly on the ground, before standing up myself and walking into the kitchen. Pinkie follows me. I open the fridge.

There must be something in the fridge that ponies eat. Haven't got any daisies or hay....

I grab a perfectly triangular carrot, a fully red, round apple, some perfectly light green lettuce, a perfectly round, red tomato, and a perfectly round orange (I'm picky) from the grocery bags and chop them up into perfectly even amounts and place them on a plate. I Lift the small pony onto the counter, and present the plate of food in front of her.

At first, she does not know what to do with the food that has been presented before her.

I reach out to the plate and grab a perfectly round bit of chopped carrot and pop it in my mouth, chewing thoroughly before swallowing.

Pinkie does the same. When she bites into the carrot, her eyes light up and she stuffs her face in the 'carrots' section of the plate. There were so many times when I wanted to correct her eating. But I stopped myself.

Instead, I just crawled around on the floor picking up bits of carrot that was falling out of her mouth.

She later tried everything on the plate, scoffing it down her throat one section at a time. All the time, I was running around, collecting all the disgusting bits on chewed up food that she had not eaten properly that had fallen on the ground.

When she's finished, I thoroughly wash the plate and dry it, and then put it in the exact spot I found it.

I grab a bowl and fill it with purified spring water, cooled to exactly two degrees Celsius (roughly speaking) and give it to Pinkie. She laps it up, no questions asked. Well, even if she did have a question, she couldn't have asked, nor could it have been answered.
I wash the bowl afterwards.

"What shall we do now?" I ask her pointlessly.

Then I remember the bubblegum bubble bath mixture I bought at the shops. "How about a bath, little filly?" I say to her.
She looks up from sniffing the bottom of a chair as I grab the bottle. "Come on!" I gesture my hand and she follows me to the bathroom.