The Past Life of Pinkamena Diane Pie

by Mlws

Why Am I Pink? (Wednesday, October 11th)

Wednesday, October 11

I was born a pink mare with a straight, uncurled mane. There lay the rest of my family, with other features that I do not share. I often think I might have been adopted. Gertrude and Helga share the same bland hues, while I am bright pink. The color of my coat clearly does not reflect on my life. My luminescent mane was just a visual. The real deep truth was full of darkness. Pa never treated me well, and never wondered about my feelings or beliefs, and Ma never talked to me. Helga was a bully, and like me, Gertrude was silent. Except Gertrude could hide pain better than I could hide my sautéed rock in my milk, if that actually worked, that is. I don’t understand how I turned out pink. My parents refuse to tell me anything, and that makes me very suspicious. Oh well. I need to go wash the pebbles, or, that’s what Pa’s yelling throughout our cottage. My eye twitched for a second, and I rubbed my eye and ignored it. I heard the slam of a door, and a loud slurred scream of anger. I ran outside, expecting there was a bug, and Gertrude had yelled, but then… I walked outside to find my father screaming and crying at his bird cage. I heard a “drip drip drop” noise, sounding almost like water on the floor. I soon realized this “water” noise, was blood dripping into the dirt.