Diary of a Young Griff

by Isuvyw


XIII: Entries 47 to 50

7th of Blossommonth

I carry a burden, Eva. One that is hard to bear. I don’t know how to continue. Life in this place has become dark. Every morning, the sunrise seems dull, and every evening the moon is less bright. 

Princess Celestia and Luna wouldn’t cry for us, would they? After all, they don’t even know we are here. Otherwise, our life would have become better. But it is not.

Matilda is sick. Sick in her body, and sicker in spirit. She is in pain. She says it hurts very badly below her tummy. But it hurts the most in her heart. How can one give life if it was caused by evil?

But it is still life, Matilda said. She says she would keep it. She doesn’t want to destroy what life comes out of her, even though it was caused by such scum.

Speaking of scum, Gravel did some real work yesterday and today. Since Matilda cannot work until she is well, he has to take on her jobs as well. She actually gave him the simplest work, which was to watch over the meters on the pipes. Now he has to shove the coal, and make sure the pressure inside the boilers is at a safe level, and repair any broken pipes.

But he still likes to complain, even while he does his work. I should like to slam his beak shut with my coal shovel. He deserves so much more because of what he did to Matilda, but she has already scarred him enough.

Nevertheless.

Eva, I have been clean with my writing, but now, I don’t care. I have learnt many words, and I will use as many as I can think of to curse those wasteponies who almost destroyed Matilda.

***

[REDACTED SECTION – 17 uses of sh-t, 14 uses of ass, 33 uses of various maternal insults, and an uncountable number of male organ insults, all in Snjojordska]

Please do not wonder what most of these words mean. They have deep meanings, and all concern their bodies or anything that relates to them.

I hope Matilda won’t be upset at how foul my tongue actually is. Goodnight.

***

10th of Blossommonth

I’ve been sick Eva. My head hurt a lot, and I was unable to sleep peacefully. I am better now though, and I think I can work tomorrow.

Matilda has been resting, which is good for her. I want to give her more hugs, and tell her that I’m still around. Hopefully she can skrif to you once again. She appears much better in spirit. I believe it is because she doesn’t carry the burden alone now. She has begun to smile once again. I’m glad for her.

Gravel has begun to take his work a little bit more seriously. Maybe I will be nicer to him once a pipe falls on him, or a piece of hot coal jumps onto him, so that he knows what it is like to live in this boiler room.

I am tired. I wish I could talk to you more, but there are so many things that worry me. 

Goodnight

***

12th of Blossommonth

I don’t know how to begin talking to you again Eabha. But, I am glad I can talk to you again.

Sven has been through much. I’m afraid he has lost his innocence. He's seen a dark side of ponykind now, and it's one he will never forget.

I still ask myself whether I was the one who did wrong. Whether I am the debauched one. It took Sven’s hugs and comforting words to realize it wasn’t me. But it is still hard to believe so.

I now carry something that lives – inside an egg. It hurts though. Half of it hurts because it is still forming, and the other half because it was caused by force. I think I have to start eating a bit more, so that it will form healthily. More potato sandwiches then.

I wish I could write to you like a little fledgeling. No worries, no hurts, no tears – just happy chatting and maybe a little joke or two. But, I’m no longer a fledgeling. I’m a grown-up griffon now. And it’s always the grown-ups who experience hard things.

Try not to worry about me too much. I’ll be fine soon. Goodnight.

***

14th of Blossommonth

I have just finished dinner. I just want to talk to you like a normal griff, Eabha.

It seems that Gravel has improved, even if a little. He better, otherwise I would not hesistate to pluck off half his wing feathers. Sven did say somewhere that he would see if scum would turn into gold. Well, I can see only a glint of silver in those rusty brown feathers of his – not gold yet. 

Maybe he struggles. Maybe something happened to him before. Maybe that’s why he has a [REDACTED] attitude. Sven said that he began to change after two of us were whipped bloody. I will see then, if he can truly be at least decent. 

If not, [REDACTED] him and his [REDACTED] balls.

Forget about the pipe map in miss Hawkrose’s office. Her assets and all can kiss my flank goodbye and sail down straight to Tartarus. We’ll just have to live with these malfunctioning gauges and what-nots. I just really hope it won’t blow up in our faces.

Daren lew, i mewn corw ta bhoi again.