Originally Published June 26th, 2013

>A strong, cold wind rustles your mane and rouses you from your half-conscious gallop.
>You lock your legs and lean onto your back hooves, kicking up big swirly dust clouds as you stop at the edge of the cliff, getting a quick view of a far-down lake before leaning back towards safety.
>You are Pinkie Pie.
>And you are on top of a mountain.
>And for once, it’s not because of those Yoke peppermint patties.
>You feel like you’ve been running for days, and when you look at your hooves you see that your feeling isn’t far off.
>Each hoof sports a few cracks and chips, and some of the fissures leak a small red pool onto the soil beneath you.
>You can feel the adrenaline begin to wear off as the pain starts to rear up in your hooves, so you fall over painlessly onto your side.
>Is it painless because of a pain-cancelling spell?
>Is it because fuck you you’re Pinkie Pie?
>No; your exclusive diet of sponge-cake, marshmallow, and Jell-O has transformed a good percentage of your body into a cakey shock absorber.
>You pound you’re your hoof against your chest, which gives of a hollow metal sound.
I’m forty percent shock absorbOHHHCELESTIATHATHURTSWHYWOULDIDOTHAT
>You proudly and painfully exclaim to your friendly national demi-god.
>A few minutes later, after the pain has ebbed and your leg has stopped throbbing, you begin to remember why you ran here….
….
Oh well. Not like I really need a reason to run a comatose marathon, right?
>You turn your gaze directly at the nor/mlp/0nes.
Right?
>A deep, throaty chuckle comes as an answer.
”Silly mare, just because you deny it, doesn’t mean it no longer exists. ”
>An inky fog materializes in front of you and more laughter is coming from its core.
>A ghostly leg protrudes out of the cloud, and the rest of the mist swirls behind it and gives rise to a more tangible grey mare.
”It still happened, and no matter how much you wish otherwise, you’re the one who made it happen.”



>That…thing was back.
Leave me alone. I’m not in the mood for this.
>The shadow mare responds with a small smile.
”Oh, but that’s exactly why I’m here my dear Pinkamina!”
>She disappears for a split-second before rematerializing by your side.
”…so that you can see the grim truth of it all.”
But I didn’t do anything!
”Exactly!” 
>Her grin widens, revealing gums studded with dagger-like teeth.
”You could’ve gone back to work, made a few extra bits, and left Anon to his fate; it would have been just like one of those ‘humanrape’ stories you love so much.”
Stop it.
”But you didn’t. You stayed at his house and did nothing.”
Stop.
>You look away to avoid her gaze, but you can feel her press against your side.
”And by the time you finally snapped
 out of your love-struck stupor and could’ve acted, the necklace was already around the clone’s neck.”
>You feel her hooves dig into your shoulders.
”And who was the one who threw the necklace to Anon?”
>Your vision clouds as hot tears fill your eyes.
>You can feel her breath as she whispers in your ear.
“Who killed her best friend?”
I DID! IT WAS ME! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?! YOU SADISTIC FU-
>You whip around to face her, ready to bellow out a stream of foul language, but you stop yourself before you could further break character.
>She was gone.



>You search frantically, desperate for a sign that she was there.
>But all you find are your bloody hoof prints leading up to your outline in the dust.
>What if she was never there?
>What if you imagined the whole thing?
>What if you were…loco in the coco?
>And with that thought, you go cold. Being loco in the coco makes absolute sense. Only a crazy person would kill their friend.
>The realization scares you.
>And when you were scared, you would think back to Granny Pie, and how she told you to laugh away your fears…
>…and how Granny Pie’s much younger Doctor colt-friend told you when the laughter doesn’t work, you should run.
”It’s not going to work.”
>You hear her voice, and fight the urge to turn and look at her.
”You can run as far and as fast as you like…”
>”I wonder...”
“And you could even split your hooves from the effort…”
>”She would have to be standing right on the edge.”
“But the blood on them will never be yours.”
>In one fluid movement, you turn and leap at the shade.
LEAVE ME ALONE!



>You focus all of your weight and will into your right shoulder, hoping to knock her off the mountain.
>You can see it all play out perfectly in the moments before you make contact. 
“Silly mare.”
>You pass cleanly through her, like she was nothing more than air.
>And as your hoof leaves the earth, you turn around with the hope that you might still be able to grab her.
>But like before, she was gone.
>The wind rips past you, trying feebly to slow you down as the lake rushes up towards you.
>In the moments before breaching the water, a voice, her voice, sounds in your mind like a stray thought.
“I would never leave you alone. I am you.”
>You strike the surface of the lake head-on.
“I can help you make everything go back to the way it was.”
>A cold blackness starts to wash over you, numbing the impact.
“And once we get the real Fluttershy back, we can make Anon ours.”
>And then nothing.


INITIATE MUSICAL FORESHADOWING: 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y0Qz0wZSzZc