The Dreamrunner

        The iron door of the damp, dingy cell opened, letting a stream of bright light into the small concrete box. It was barely enough to stay sane in. The walls were slanted in just such a way as to keep it dark, damp and cold.

It was torture.

A grey figure appeared out of the light and dropped a metal tray in front of me. “Dinner,” he said simply as he closed the cell. Darkness once again ate at everything. From the uncomfortable steel bed bolted to one of the walls, I dragged my malnourished body to the tray. Stale bread and water lay pathetically in the center. Quickly, I scarfed down the food. After a month in this place, I had gotten used to it. I drank the water in a single swig and dropped the metal cup onto the tray and cringed at the loud sound that echoed off of the walls. I dragged myself back to my bed and lay on top of it and pulled out a journal from under my pillow, and picked up a quill from under my bed. I wrote with my mouth instead of my magic, as they’d put a magic dampener on my horn so that I couldn’t use it.

        My name is Sweetie Belle, and I am a prisoner. I’ve been taken by the Griffonian government because they thought I was part of some plot to assassinate the Queen of Griffonia and overthrow their parliament. They continue to torture me to try to get me to give them answers that I don’t have. They allow me a journal and a quill to do whatever I need. After a week of refusing to touch it, I decided to write my story anyway. Maybe they’ll read it and let me go. It was all just a massive misunderstanding. I was going through Griffonia to get to Zebrica, and, through some great feat, ended up here.

        So, If you’re reading this. . . it means either that I succeeded, or I died trying. It also means that if you’re reading this, you’re someone close to me. Rarity, if it’s you reading this, I want you to know that I love you with all my heart. I’ve remembered you every day of my trip. I know I haven’t seen you since I left three years ago, but I can still picture you in my mind as beautiful as ever. Scootaloo, Applebloom, If you’re reading this, I succeeded. I want you to know that you are my best friends ever. Even though we drifted apart throughout the years, I still had you two in the center of my heart. Princess Twi- sorry. Twilight, if you’re reading this, I want you to spread this story around. I’ve gotten this far. Even if I failed, I still got this far. No other pony on this planet would have gone as far as I have. I’m not a pushover anymore.

        For all of you who are reading this who have no clue who I am and have no clue what I’m talking about, you’re in for an interesting story. I’ll sum it up as quickly as I canm without giving away too much. I’ve been traveling the planet to see if I can chase down Death. Literally, and metaphorically. I’ve seen and learned so much from the ponies, griffons, zebras, and minotaurs I’ve met over the years. Heck, one of the minotaurs even left a parting gift over my eye. If I had moved just a little bit to the left. . .  never mind. I’ll tell you about that later. Currently, I’m 21 years old and I’ve seen more than the oldest and wisest beings on this planet. I’ve fought in more wars than most battle-hardened veterans.

I just want to go home. I’ve been trying to find a way to break out of this place, but no luck so far. I’m trying to remember a moment when everything started going wrong. Was it when I was born? No, I think it was my 8th birthday. Actually, everything mostly started going downhill after my 17th birthday, so I guess I’ll start there.