A Deep, Dark Depression

Okay, now everypony whispers about me when I walk in town. All I've gone around with is an anger frown and a straight, pink mane. I can't smile anymore. I honestly feel like I'm just a doormat AGAIN. Not again. Last night I had a dream about it. Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Fluttershy, Twilight, and Rarity were all giants stepping on me over and over again. They were laughing. I was crying, yelling at them to stop. They wouldn't. They called me a baby and continued stepping on me. That was until I stopped crying and yelled that I'd had enough. I grew the same size as them, and beat them all up to death. I woke up, sweating and panting. I was terrified that I was going to do that to my friends! Wait, no. They aren't my friends. Why am I becoming so soft now? I've gone to far to destroy it all now. I'm going to continue to STOP being a doormat. That's my objective. I'm done being treated like a fool. I'm sick of it. I can just imagine myself taking action. I can imagine myself hurting somepony.

I can imagine myself in the Evergreen Forest, tying Rainbow Dash to a tree. I'll smile an evil, mischievous smile, and she'll be pleading for her life. "Oh, great Pinkie." She'll say. "Please forgive me for being a jerk!" Then she'll cry some more and I'll just be laughing at her misery. She deserves it. My conscience will say.All of it. It'll be true. Then I'll take out my birthday cake slicer and slice a 'P' into Rainbow Dash's belly. She'll yell in agony, pleading for me to stop. But I'll ignore her. I'll just laugh and laugh. The tears will fall down my cheeks. I know it'll hurt, but she deserves it. My conscience will applaud me, and I'll be happy. Happy once I kill her and the rest of the pathetic ponies that dare call themselves my 'friends'. I'll finish off Rainbow by spitting in her eyes. Then, I'll chop off her wings with an axe, making her cry out even more. "Please, Pinkie, STOP!" She'll cry. I'll just laugh as the blood pours all over me. Flowing like a fresh river. Fresh, cold blood. It'll be amazing. Once she dies, I'll carve my name onto the tree. So everypony will know I'm not a doormat. They'll be scared of me. They'll really stare at me. They'll really whisper about me. "That Pinkie Pie, she's mad." "Isn't that the crazy mare who killed her friend?" They'll all know. Know what I'm capable of. I'm not a doormat.

Oh, I've almost forgotten. Me and Twilight had a fight. She's heard about all the rumors, too. She called me down to confirm if it was true. I told her that everything was a lie. A fib. A MYTH. And guess what? SHE SAID I WAS LYING. She said she talked to Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy. They confirmed I was being rude to them, and being just plain violent. I hit my hoof down hard and yelled at her saying that it was all lies and how dare she invade my privacy like that. Twilight yelled straight back saying that I had problems and that she could help me. All the anger released inside of me, and I slapped her with my hoof. I jumped on her, and she was terrified. I was trying to choke her. She was struggling to breathe, and I was so happy. One less person to care about. All of a sudden, Spike jumped on me and pushed me off. It didn't take much to get out of his grasp and then I had realized what I had done. I had almost killed my friend! Twilight was getting up like old Granny Smith trying to get up from hurting her leg.Finish her, Pinkie Pie. You can do it. I felt the tears in my eyes, and I ran out before Twilight finished saying 'wait'. I ignored her, and ran to Sugar Cube Corner. I locked myself in my room for the rest of my day. Now, I'm here, writing. I've been more guilty than ever, ever since today. It's unfair how everyone treats me, Pinkamena Diane Pie, like a nobody. A doormat. That is something I will never be. Something I don't WANT to be. Something I'm sick of being. I'm crying right now. After I'm done, I'll read over this and cry some more. I guess this is it for this entry. I have to go off to help Mrs. Cake bake some cake. I told her yesterday that we shouldn't bake anymore cupcakes until this blows over. I'll see you in a bit, diary.

Thanks again,
Pinkamena Diane Pie