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// Another Child 
// Story: A Runaway's Letter 
// by Inspiration 
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Dear Dad,
You got what you wanted. I'm gone. Your home is now souly yours. I hope you're happy with your choices. I honestly do. Have fun drinking your life away, getting angry at nothing. You are a disgrace. Understand? A disgrace. You're horrible. I can't believe anypony would have a foal with you. The thought of somepony loving you makes me sick.
Only two things come out of this for you that are good. You get more money, and you get more room. I, on the other hoof, get more. I get to go to a personal Shangri La. An Eden. Nirvana. Paradise. I get to be somewhere where nopony yells, or hits, or ignores. Where foals are treated as they should be. Best of all, I get to be away from you, you dangerous psychopath. Don't blame me for running away, blame yourself for driving me away.
Think about everything you've done in your life. I hope that your life is filled with misery. Because that's a peek at how I feel. I hope you feel empty. Helpless. Sorrowful. Just plain horrible. And when you do, I hope that those feelings carve a hole in your heart. Because I won't feel bad for you. I never will.
Why do you think that yelling and hitting solve problems? Do you think that by injuring somepony, they have the drive to do better? Because, guess what. All it does is make them grow to despise you. There's a reason you're hated by the town. Now, you know why. Now you know why I left. You are a plethora of disgust and hatred. A failure.
Remember this, and this alone: there is a special place in Tartarus for those just like you. I hope that you rot there. I hope that you suffer the worst pains there. Because, you know what? You won the battle. I'm gone, and you won. I hope you understand what you did.
Loathe,
Phoenix Fire
P.S. I'm changing my name.