Trixie

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My mother hurt me: what most would call abuse, she called 'A better alternative to school... It actually teaches ya shit.'. What most would call love, I'd call lies. She didn't love me. She didn't care when I came back from school, battered and beaten, my horn scratched and my still-blank flank beaten black and blue. They claim she did it out of love, they didn't know. The day when I was called to the head teacher's office, my eyes hopeful and wide, the deep gashes on my body seemingly trivial. That was the day when I had hope, the one day out of the few years that I believed in better, the last day where I had a place to cry.

My head teacher was an old one: her maize mane intricately streaked with grey, her sun-kissed coat patchy and wrinkled with faded golden eyes; her yellowed teeth failing to block the foul odour escaping from that mini pit of Tartarus, her coat falling out in places, leaving a trail of scratchy yellow fur in her wake with her clouded, rheumy eyes, looking and searching and never finding their target. She sat me down in one of her many antique near-braking chairs. 'Just because they're a little old doesn't mean they can't be used... Just like myself!’, her personal motto. So after I was seated in the school's very own Busby's Stoop Chair and had gotten as comfortable as I could on the brittle oak, she looked at me. Just looked. Not like she was sizing me up or anything. Just, looking... After a while she sighed deeply and passed me an old canned tomato soup receipt. I looked at her curiously, not quite understanding what to do with it. That was until I recognised my mother's hoof writing: scribbly and most likely filled with errors.

Look. I'm not gonna bother with bieng precice and whatnot. I'm taking my little brat out of your hell-whole. If you try to resist I wil have the cops come in here and brake your ass. And sue you for everything your worth and dooble. See ya in hell.

"Look, Trixie. I don't want to get into any trouble with your mother but I'm afraid I can't just let you out of the school just like: that!" She waved her hoof around to emphasise her point. "So I'm afraid your going to have to tell your mother that it simply can't be done." I promised myself everyday that I'd be strong, that no matter how beat up I was, no matter how degraded, no matter how much pain I felt I would never cry. Never. But really while similar pain and fear are technically different right? I never thought it'd ever happen, I never wanted it to happen. I cried. No, scratch that, I screamed. One thing lead to another and soon I found myself at home, if you can even call the back alley of a strip club that just has a tarp covering the front, home, with a letter, a letter of admittance. And just like that I realised that my last day of school was over.

Despite what I expected it wasn't better. No, not at all. In fact, the only reason my mother had removed me was for her own, selfish desires: to hurt me more. I became something less than dirt, something less than dust, something less than the dead. But I'm not here to talk about my mother's cruel ways. No. Now I'm going to tell you about someone special to me. Quite possibly the only pony who loved me. My sister.

Ever since I left the school, I, or my family really, became a bit of a legend. Not like 'Wow! Look at her! She's so amazing!!!' But rather more something to laugh at. Some scum of the Earth. Something not to be. So it only made perfect sense that when my sister went she was bullied. Often she'd come home bruised and battered, with deep gashes up her legs, shaking and crying. My mother didn't care, and if it weren't for me having been in that exact situation or worse, I wouldn't have either. Each day when she came back I'd pry myself from my mother, scoop her up in my arms and cradle her as if she were my child. As she grew older she grew tougher too. The vandalism would be less and less frequent until it disappeared all together. But each day, despite, she'd still come home crying, I'd still do my little routine, and one day she told me why she was crying. They hadn't stopped, she'd merely gotten faster. Fine, that's fine, isn't it?

"However," she continued, "whenever I run, I barely escape. I barely make it out. This makes them madder each day." Pausing for a breath she looked up into my eyes, they looked so round and scared... Did I ever look like that? She continued her speech, in that same innocent scared voice I was so accustomed to. "But whenever I run I feel as though I'm about to collapse: my vision gets blurry with dark spots at the edges and my fetlock feels like at any moment It's about to brake and send me tumbling down to my doom where they'll get me and hurt me and..." She was hyperventilating at this point. I could see the fear building in those too young eyes, too young to be exposed to this, too young to have this many fears, too young to let alone know what death is, but to fear it as if it's just another one of her bullies. Before I could get to her and give her as much comfort as I could, my mother stormed in and dragged me out to return me to my endless torture. But suddenly it didn't seem like much anymore.

That very next day, as fate would have it, while on her sprint home, she fell. The brats ran on her like a pack of savage and starved wolves would on a freshly killed elk carcass. One wolf had a knife and got her right in the neck. She died within the hour. Oh how I wish.

A local neighbour saw the butchery and called the police and an ambulance. They managed to get the wounded, dying elk on a stretcher and to the hospital. She survived. But the knife had damaged part of her nervous system so she would have random spasms and her hind leg, the one with the bad fetlock funnily enough, was damaged and dragged when she walked.

But since my sister was in so much intensive care and my mother couldn't even afford health insurance, the bill was too much. So my mother took the 'only logical answer' and sold one of us. Guess which one. That's right: me. I was sold off as a slave to some rich guy I've never heard of. Amazingly he was somehow worse than my mother, I'm just that lucky. But he died of lung cancer from smoking only mere weeks after my 'purchase'. But I'll tell you more about that later. This last but here is not only the last part of this section, but also my sister's life. Driven by guilt and mental-self torture she hung herself. Or so I've heard. The last time I ever saw her, I was leaving to go to the 'master's house', as I looked into those wide eyes full of every emotion imaginable, excluding joy, spirit, hope, even all her love for the world around us and herself was gone. As I stared into those pits of pain I realised that maybe she wasn't too young, but the world too old.

Almost as if Celestia herself was playing a cruel trick on me things got worse. Yep, that's right. Things somehow got worse than having your own younger sister brutally committing suicide because she failed me. So I got to the mansion where my 'owner' lived. I wasn't impressed. True it was infinitely larger and well maintained and overall better and actually had a roof; but something about it just seemed off. The whole place did. The master had a son about sixteen: a tall, lanky, shy unicorn, much unlike his father, who would stay in his room all day. But not play video games or go onto forums and hate, but just sit there. He'd just be sitting there staring out where a dead oak withered away, dead leaves in the midst of rotting, squirrels chasing each other, oblivious, around its large greying trunk. Picking up the laundry: staring. Sweeping the floor: staring. Hiding in his room to get away from the master and his sharp words and whip: staring.

The last time I saw him like that was on a cold mid-January evening: the sun was setting and casting golden lights around the large, empty room; I was sitting there on an old mahogany stool, the wood worn from age and use, sowing a patch of moth brown onto an old, beige curtain. I had finished the stitching a good time ago but something about the way this young stallion stared, so intently kept me waiting in this room. At times it seemed like he'd forget to blink, one time I swear he stopped breathing. Whatever it was that interested him I could never see it from any other windows, even while in the room it eluded me. I decided that day, that all this mystery would end. So I got up, put down my curtain and sowing materials, walked over to him and sat down. I stared forward and for a split second I saw it: just a flash of white. Then it happened again and this time I saw more: a pony, no, mare, in a white ethereal gown, with flowing, tattered lace at the ends of each layer. I was so transfixed I didn't even notice the pony talking beside me at first.

"Now you see her?" His voice was high and wispy, almost damaged sounding. "Nopony else could ever see her. Not even daddy." Hearing such a young sounding word on such a pony was unsettling to say the least. "She's always there, she would never leave me again. Sometimes she talks, but mostly we just gaze at each other. When I told daddy he got me a therapist. They didn't work either."

"Do you know who she is?" Amazingly my voice only showed a fraction of my horror, which was still a large amount.

"Huh? Oh yeah, of course? How do you expect me to forget her? A mother's not easy to forget." I gasped.

"Your, mother. How? Th-this is some k-kind of weird joke. Right, right? I mean, your mother's gone, but not, dead..." I trailed of at the end. The words 'dead' or 'death' weren't foreign in my mouth, but, just this once it felt wrong, strange, unnatural.

"That mare claims to be my mother, she may look like me in most ways. But I know. She's not my mother. Besides, why would the dead lie? What vengeance d they have to make others do for them when no harm can come to them now?" His tone turned dark. Looking at him now he seemed to be surrounded in a dark, thick aura. But yet, there was still a child-like spark in his eyes, or the way he slumped his shoulders, much like a pouting colt. "You believe me though, right? You saw her. You know that she's there. That even through death she still walks beside me. Would anypony else do that?" I didn't even have to look at his face to know he was smiling, that his eyes were gleaming, that he was both tainted and impure, but also full of child-like innocence. I couldn't be in the room any longer. Sprinting as fast as I can, I made it to the door, pushed open the large double doors and never went in again.

The master died around three weeks later from lung failure.

The young master took the old one's place: head of the house. At first it appeared as if he was impossibly worse: longer hours; less pay; more domestic abuse. But then after two eons of months he came up to me. I was in the middle of mopping up the floor, the wide, oak boards slippery with the murky water from the bucket. He wore long boots about a foot high all four plastered in thick, drippy filth. He walked right up the path I had just mopped, leaving a trail of thick, brown goo behind him, stomping out my hard efforts. He stared at me with those large, fragile, porcelainesque, muted brown eyes. He moved like a hunting snake, slowly then with lightening speed, smashing the mop out of my hooves and grabbing my face. I could feel the ancient filth being smeared over my face, I had to suppress vomiting, it proved harder than first thought. He brought his lips close to my ears and whispered,

"I'm letting you go."

"What?" I shouted, he lightly smacked my face, thought all it did was just further envelope my face in the wet muck. Shushing me he continued,

"I'm letting you go. On one condition, and I must warn you now if you fail to complete this each and every time, then I shall have Burt and Frank personally come and torture it out of you, you remember them don't you? Burt and Frank?" I nodded shuddering, Burt and Frank were pretty much the only menacing, besides the masters, ponies here: they were once frontline soldiers before Princess Celestia called a cease-fire, ever since then they've staying in this house, keeping guard. They were both tall, tall stallions, Burt being a faded crimson red and Frank a dusty corn coloured, reminding me of my old head mistress. "Well what do you say, dearie? Are you gonna or not." At the word not his hooves pushed together, pinching my face into a weird fish-like shape. His breath smelt like expired booze and old cigars.

"W-What's the condition?" The young master laughed at this, a low gritty laugh, ending in a cough.

"What do you think, Luv?" At that moment the term 'Luv' lost all affection and endearment, and became a cold, hard, insult, a threat almost. "Don't answer that, I don't expect a... Common pony like yourself to understand. What I want you to do is: all fame or riches or anything related be given/owed directly to me. I don't care how you'll get food, or how you'll survive. Follow my conditions and I won't have to. Now, whadya say?" It sounded more like a command then a question, though I felt to insignificant to point it out.

"N-" He started squeezing my neck, strangling me, I knew immediately what to do to make him stop, but some part of me wouldn't allow it, some part of me would rather be strangled to death then allow this buffoon to some in and take my earnings, and for a while I was letting that part win.

"I can't wait all day for an answer Sweetie. What. Do. You. Say." With each for he emphasised his point with an increase in pressure on my failing neck. Defeatedly I slouched down and whispered a yes.

Just two days later a coach came and picked me up. Ending one chapter of the many of my eternal torture.

I wandered streets for months, getting by one just change I found or pity donations, I at times almost missed my old life. That was until I got it. Finally, nearly a year later than average I got my Cutie-Mark: a blue, star wand with a swirl of sparkling magic. It came to me when I was feeling particularly depressed, a young colt had just walked by, clinging to his mother at the sight of me. At that moment I just wanted to know why he did that, to know what he was thinking. I focussed all my energy into it, guessing what the correct spell would be... And then I heard it, a slight voice in my head

"Why is she staring at me?" Shaking my head I stopped the spell, he looked away and ran after his mother who had walked ahead. I guess the shock of the spell had overridden the feeling and joy of getting my Mark that it was just there. I got used to it as quickly as it came, though it gave me some form of condolence, some form of normality, I still had my struggles, I still had to learn how to use my talent to my advantage.

By this point my eighth birthday had come and gone, remaining uncelebrated, with my ninth on the way. I had started a small stall in a travelling fair, in which I'd do simple magic tricks for the little ones, mainly bright coloured lights and levitating them around, much to some parent's horror. I had come as far as to create a little name for myself, a little money and even a kooky family of fair workers.

Keep in mind I was young still, I had just come out of a tough time, of course I wasn't going to think about past promises. He came a few months later, just knocked on my door then demanded everything, of course only an insolent twat like him could think to bring body-guards with him, but yet, there they were, standing there, just looking down at me with an expression that was either pity, apathy or no emotion at all.

I stood there, what could I do? I couldn't fight them, I couldn't run, I couldn't even say no. I let out a whimper. The young stallion smirked, his horn flaring, suddenly I felt my body go numb, as I lost control of everything, I tried to scream but my mouth didn't make any noise. I couldn't even blink, I had to just float there and stare as I watched him go into my draws, remove my small envelope adequately filled and walk away. The ponies left me there. Teleporting away without a trace.

I just lay there, staring vacantly as my senses and control returned. As soon as I had sufficient power over my magic I teleported away, as far as I could go. I found myself near an old shack in what looked like the Everfree Forest. There I stayed, foraging for food, practising my magic, building back my life.

Life continued as normal after that. I found out that the Fair I worked with went out of business soon after I left. So I figured I'd go back and visit my old romping ground, that's where I found my old stall, after fixing it up I finally felt ready. I started my trek to Ponyville, after that things didn't go so well. I bumped into an old acquaintance: Twilight Sparkle. Thing really went down after that. I still don't know why I went back. I had just had my flank handed to me again by that purple nightmare, even with the Amulet I still seemed inferior.

When I got back to my little shack, which over the years had been greatly improved, I noticed a little note on the wall, which read:

"You promised.'

Shivering I walked into my house, I was still slightly pumped from the Amulet and knew that against most I could win. I never expected it to be him. He was a frail old stallion now, hobbling and limping as if all those years of drinking and smoking away his depression had caught up with him.

"You promised." He croaked, soundly uncannily like his father, "You promised, and I don't like it when people don't keep a promise."

"G-Get out." The old man chuckled.

"But you promised, and I don't think you even have it in you to harm me. I'm not leaving until I have it, or you could kill me, either way is fine."

"I don't give a rat's-flank about some damn promise. So get out, or are you too deranged to remember where the door is?" Once again that sickening chuckle.

"I believe the word is senile, but of course you never were properly educated were you?" He smiled, it was the perfect mix of rictus and grimacing. He had turned out exactly like his father: always being able to chill me to the bone.

"P-Please, ju-just get out of here..." He slowly limped closer towards me.

"But dearie, you promised." His last word echoed in my mind. Promised, promised, promised.

A boom was heard all the way throughout the Everfree forest.

As I stared at the little pile of ashes in the centre of my shack, the dark stain tracing the edge of the heap, a little sweet, melancholy tune started to dance through the wind...

Oh the mare with her pain, and the sire wanting gain,

Promises were said, promises left dead,

Oh the mare with her pain, and the sire wanting gain,

Ashes in the wind, sanity's been thinned,

Oh the mare with her pain, and the sire wanting gain,

Joy is put on hold, stories will unfold

On top of this I felt my spirit lift, I walked outside, looking up to the cloudy evening sky, opened my mouth and let loose...

"Have you come to then end of my walkway?

Have you seen as the life fades to grey?

As my time ticks low,

Its flaws will show,

And it seems that everyone has lied, Oh,

No one cried when I cried,

Not a single shed a tear as I tried,

Scorn full of snide,

Chide after chide,

But still no tears were shed when I cried,

But still no one has cried when I cried...

Planning

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Trixie = Her mother was abusive, and her sister committed suicide after she was stabbed in the neck, but the hospital bills were to expensive and her mum had to sell Trixie as a slave, the owner was even more abusive but died of lung cancer due to constant smoking, her son set her free in return for all her wealth and fame going to him. She wandered the streets with no luck but then finally found her talent in magic, she then managed to create a small living but still all the fame going to the slave owner's son, one time she doesn't give the fame to him and creates a small name for herself, but the guy comes and demands that she give him all her money and everything she owns and from now on all fame, she gets really mad and gives him (shoots him in the head) the gun that he was threatening her with. Ends with:

'No one cried when I cried.' ~~~ Trixie Lulamoon~~

Chrysalis = She wanted to be good, she hated her mother for trying to make her evil or her father for punishing her when she acted nice, when she tried to make peace with the griffons they shunned her out and called her a pest, a few trying to eat her, she came back beaten up and furious, so much that she kicked over a neighbours pot, it wasn't much for most but for her it was horrible, her father saw and she immediately prepared herself to apologise only for him to smile, come over to her and hug her, smile at her, love her, she was full for the first time and never wanted to go back to being hungry, so if that means being evil, so be it, as long as she didn't have to starve anymore. At school people bullied her and called her weak for only being able to kick over a plant pot and be sorry about it, she was kicked and beat up and even shunned by the teachers until she finally snapped, her father died and her mother was so furious that she(the mother) killed the ling that killed him (the queens husband) but was murdered for reason, everyling was mean and teased her about how evil her entire family was but how good she was, she snapped when she snapped her best friend's neck (her best friend was just the only ling who didn't tease her and tried to act nice to her) she loved the feeling of cleansing the world for the better so much that she went around killing everyling who was mean or evil (to her) and torturing the others for not stopping the evils, everyling feared her so much that when she asked if she could rule them into cleansing the world. By the time that she was sixteen everyling was nice and only the highly trained guards ever held a weapon, she had cleansed all of the changeling race but the others must feel her blessing, she went around the surrounding areas cleansing them and forcing them to either die, become a changeling, or a recruit. Sadly during all the adventure she eat a type of rotten meat and her thoughts were twisted so badly that they were practically reversed, she still want them to be good but her good was now other's evil. She devised a grand plot to cleans the main continent, Equestria so she invaded canterlot, it failed and for the first time she was hungry again, but not just for love but also for power and fear, she decided that since all lings no longer feared her or loved her that she would make them, she walked over to the male ling that she recently became mats with, called all lings over to her, and ripped of his head for a demonstration, as she was about to swallow she stopped and thought, what am I doing, how will this help the world, this is just evil. She stopped for a moment but smiled then swallowed. Ends with:

'No one cried when I cried.' ~ Queen Chrysalis, Supreme Ruler Of The Changelings

Gummy: (Never mentions who it is) Master stole him from his mother when he was just a few weeks old, master tortured him by putting him in horrible costumes and outfits then showed him off to everything. His name was just a painful tease of his mutation that he got due to being taken away from his mother too early. Master speaks so high pitched and rapidly that it hurts him and he has started to go deaf so master just speaks louder, every living moment for him is pure torture. In real chapter dwell further on these ideas. But now it's time for revenge, now it's time to gain control and punish all that hurt him. Ends with:

'No one cried when I cried. ~ Him, Servant Of Master

o0o
Gummy stepped out of Sugarcube corner, a knife in his jaws.

Derpy: I was born defective, well sort of, she was born with the capability of brain mess up, when she was about 8 and had a life she fell while rock climbing giving herself the last tip into defectivity, she lost all her friends except for one who was small and had lots of conditions and could empathise, her friend died when she was sixteen and found that she was pregnant with a child that once born she named Dinky. And so her life as a defective, single, foal-treated, forced solitary mother began. One of the few times that she actually smiled was when she found out that her daughter was normal, and that she had friends. When Dinky was about 6 she found that people stopped knowing her as her real name (Bubbling Muffin) and started knowing her as, even her 'friends' Dinky's mom. She tried to tell them to stop but, in doing so made a complete fool of herself and ponies started treating Dinky like an adult more then her. She decided to embrace the one few things that made her happy still: muffins. Soon she was known for muffins, and one of the few saying her damage hadn't messed up so much on: I just don't know what went wrong. When she decided to ask for help from one of her 'friends' they would think of an excuse, even the element of generosity, refused to and made up a half hearted excuse. On night after being tormented once again for her defective eyes, and speech, and control of her body, she came home to find Dinky, the one pony that she could trust to help her sitting on the couch watching TV, she was amazed and when Dinky saw her she asked what's wrong, Derpy sat down and talked about the usual teasing, she then looked at her daughter, and asked what her name was, Dinky stuttered before saying Derpy Hooves... No, maybe Ditzy Doo...' Derpy tells her her real name and Dinky asks if she's sure, Derpy gets mad and tells her to stop acting like that, she then apologises and asks her if she can help her do the dishes, Dinky asks if she's sure that Derpy can handle that, then when Derpy asks if she'll do it for her she creates an excuse about homework. Derpy is so mad that she commands Dinky to come in the kitchen and starts throwing dishes and cutlery into Dinky's arms asking can you not handle this? She does it so viciously that when she gives Dinky a knife it stabs her, Derpy sees it and stops for a second before pulling it out and repeating the process even after Dinky is dead. Derpy then stops to catch her breath and looks at the mess on the floor then she mimics 'I just don't know what went wrong!'. She sighs and cleans up the mess, has dinner as normal, then goes up to bed, opening the door to say goodnight to Dinky when the realisation dawns on her. She then smiles and makes a nonchalant noise. Ends with:

'No one cried when I cried.' ~ Derpy Hooves/Ditzy Doo/ Bubbling Muffin

Octavia: My parents didn't want me, but by law and social class they had to, not that I actually helped their social class, as soon as I was of legal age they threw me onto the street, I was in the middle of a music course at university, what? just because they hated me didn't mean that they didn't nurture me. They made me do what they wanted to do, many still say it was fat, just like my cutie mark says, but they never did tests to see if being forced to do something since you were capable of holding an object (but still dropping it) up until they were 18 would have any effect on one's cutie mark (I got my cutie mark when I was 14 for the record), I had nothing except my bow tie, my bass, and my class. I was taken in by a kind but over excited mare who and I quote: 'At day they call me: Vinyl Scratch, but at night they scream: DJ Pon3!*Insert Echo effect*' she was nice enough to let me stay at her place until things picked up, of course they never did so I stayed with her, we became roommates, and I'm having my first concert, she's there in the audience hooting away as the other ponies just clap, (go on about the concert more) the concert ends and Octavia, is greeted by her parents, they suddenly act nice and accepting, when Oct says no they get mad, soon they start to argue and the father snaps her bow, Oct is so mad that if they want to break her bow how bout the cello as well, and smashes it on their head until they die, freaking out she goes and pretends to come back from the toilet and acts as if someone murdered them, when the police ask she says the first pony she can think of (Vinyl) and Vinyl gets taken away in jail, Oct acts sad and angry but really is giggling at how easy it was. Later in the apartment Oct reads the head lines: 'Murderer Vinyl Scratch Is Executed' Oct looks sad at first but then smiles and says "Well, that's another pony on my killed list, let's see if I can make it four, maybe even five if I really try". Ends with:

'No one Cried When I Cried' ~ Octavia Philharmonica

Glitchy Cyclops pony: Mutant they called me, I had to fend for myself when my parents disowned me, I raised myself in the woods, I got my cutie mark when I hid myself and went to a concert, I've finally decided to come back, nopony knows I'm alive anymore, but they will, whether it be seeing me in the living or not seeing me in hell, if being raised around timber wolves has taught me anything it's that savage is the best answer, savage gives you peace, savage gives you food. So when I meet civilisation again, there's going to be no stopping me, I'm going to be savage and I'm not going to have mercy, mercy is for the weak, mercy is for the loved, mercy is for the normal. Cyclops pony walks outside, grinning like a mad man, stalks down Fluttershy near the edge of the forest, and grins just like the timber wolf beside him. Ends with:

'No one cried when I cried.' ~ Cyclops pony/ Outcast

Luna: (always sad) I just wanted to be loved, for my dear night to be loved, describe night, sister was loved, day was loved, describe day, but when I asked for just a mere few more hours of night I was scorned, they laughed at me, gave me petty reasons that were irrelevant and then left me. If they won't let me have more night then I'll let myself, I am a princess and I demand respect, none shall stand in my way, the night shan't take just a mere hour more it shall encompass the day completely, the night will last forever. Luna walks out into the night describe transformation and the landscape, she flies into the sky. Ends with:

'No one cried when I cried.' ~ Luna Nocturne

Nightmare moon: (constant omnipotence and contempt, sadistic almost) I didn't know it was possible the elements beat me, the world was in panic (describe), then that white prick sunbutt came with the elements and banished me to the moon, (dwell on the fact that she thinks that moon is a punishment it's not), I'm not mad about the moon thing anymore or at least not in comparison. When I first heard the screams I had to admit it was mesmerising (describe the screams with pleasure) continue on the pain thought, how did it come to this, describe events without sadness. I suppose I should be sad but I feel no regrets (list things she might regret). Though I may be eviller than ever I feel at peace, the moon is a beautiful place (describe moon). When I get back I will find Sunbutt, torture her in the most horrible ways possible then while she's dying send her to the sun, let her suffer, the sweet innocent loving sister has gone, a stronger, better, merciless model has replaced her (continue on that thought track). Yes, let the weak runt I once was leave, dissipate, I'm here now, and when I get to Equestria, they'll now it. If Celestia is that nice then she can greet the others on their trek to Tartartus. Ends with:

'No one cried when I cried.' ~ ~~Luna Nocturne~~ Nightmare Moon

Pinkamina: I don't want to hurt them, but the voices tell me to, I don't believe them, I know they would never do anything like that (according to mane 5 something bad they wouldn't do but is still related to them), but sometimes they're so convincing it's hard not to believe them, I just want them to stop. Sometimes now I find myself believing them so I hide myself from them, but in order to do that I need to hide myself in my room, now my only friends are Rocky (describe him), Mr. Turnip (describe all), Sir Lintsalot, Madame le Flour, they're my best and only friends, they understand me when I act introverted, when I'm happy, when I'm scared and always know what I'm thinking, they also understand and support me in everything even when I asked them If it's right for me to trust the voices, like I said they always support me and never lie, when I asked them if it would be alright to stop my friends from hurting others by killing them they responded with great support and certainty so I know when i stop them I'm doing the right thing. Pinkamena Diane Pie stepped out of Sugarcube corner (describe her) stalked along the empty streets of Ponyville to a large oak with flickering candle light pouring into the streets. She walks over to the old wooden door and knocks hard three times. Twiloght comes tot the door.
"Oh hello Pinkie... You're looking different..." Twilight notices the faint glimmer of a sharp metal object in Pinkie's mouth, A smirk holding it in place. Ends with:

'No one cried when I cried.' ~ ~~Pinkie Pie~~ Pinkamena Diane Pie

Other: Tormentors, abuse, fear, hate. These things made me into what I am today, a cold blooded killer. No mercy was given to me so no mercy is returned. Past is abuse. Present is tormentors. Future is fear. Life is hate. I'm amazed nopony suspects me, I guess that's a benefit of being forgotten. Continue like this for a while. I'm still a pony and I still have a soul, because of this weakness I have come up for many forms of mental defence from further insanity (list a few). But the one that helps me the most must be thinking of it not as them dying but as sending them on a journey, instead of calling them dead I call them departed, it isn't much but it helps. The first pony that I sent on a journey was a filly, she was small with a pale violet coat and emerald eyes and periwinkle mane, her voice was twangy and irritating, she teased me everyday and tried to hurt me and my pet, time went on and I got to furious and (describe the killing with emotion), talk about the next killing (a police pony(the only one that knew)), then the next big milestone (his parents(he was unstable and they were acting mean and about to punish him)). List the amount of departed ponies and naming a few of the important ones. Talk more about why he did that and his 'regrets', it's time to take it further (conspiracy theory for celestia and luna) I need to take action, like I said, I'm not a monster, I want to protect people, therefore if it means killing, then so be it. When I take this into action then I doubt I will come out alive, so I just want to say: Good bye. I hope you enjoyed murdering my life and hope. Buck you. May Celestia have mercy on your soul and may you spend the rest of eternity rotting in hell. (In real life) The pony walks out of his cave and heads towards Canterlot. Ends with:

'No one cried when I cried.' ~ No Name

No One Cried When I Cried

by well_thishappened

Trixie

Planning